It’s been a while.

Well. I’m back. Mind you, this is not a well-thought-out return. I haven’t carefully considered what I intend to write about and how it shall be approached or anything as meaningful or strategic as that …

No. I’m here because two World Cup gambling providers decided to use the comments section on my blog for spamming purposes and I ducked in to delete them. Then I thought I really ought to write something; anything.

My long silence began upon my return to Oz nearly 11 months ago. When I arrived here, I discovered that my Polish housesitter – who had come highly recommended – had been just a tad psychotic. There were plastic plants in my garden beds, accompanied by treasured china ornaments that had belonged to my late mother and grandmother. All my pot plants had been disposed of, including one that contained some of my mother’s ashes.

The house had been neither dusted nor vacuumed during the 6 months I was away and everything was covered with a fine layer of white – it looked as though it had snowed inside. My kitchen surfaces were covered with half-used packets of food and these also occupied my entire refrigerator, half my freezer and the half of my pantry that I had cleared for her use. It took three large garbage bags to get rid of her leftovers. The kitchen floor turned to mud when I took a mop to it – you get the idea.

She had used my Tupperware and put it back in the cupboard unwashed. The same applied to my Mixmaster. She had glued things to the sides of my refrigerator and stove and a montage had appeared on my the door of my bedroom wardrobe. This depicted a $1 million house.  I know this because the figure appeared in the montage.

She had moved in (crappy) furniture and left it behind for me to dispose of. including several rather large trip hazards in my bedroom. By the end of the second day I was covered in bruises from bumping into all these extra obstacles in my house.

However, the worst part was the condition of my poor darling 14-year-old cat, who was the only reason I had a house sitter in the first place. I had wanted to minimise the stress she endured while I was gone for so long.

Her basket, scratch pole, feed dishes and toy had all been taken away from her – she has had these things since the day I brough her home all those years ago – and her reaction as they were found and reintroduced to her home brought tears to my eyes. Her physical condition made me sob my heart out.

My 4.8 kg cat now weighed 2 kg.

The house-sitter had told my step-father (who did the hand-over) that the vet had said she was a really good weight. When I contacted the vet he said he had told her repeatedly that her weight loss was too rapid and that she ought to contact me to have blood tests authorised immediately. The vet thought her kidneys were failing; a suspicion highlighted when he learned that the sitter wasn’t feeding her the correct food (that I had left plenty of money to buy during my absence.)

It turned out the Tash cat was suffering from hyperthyroidism and was close to death. Indeed, if I had returned a week later as originally planned, she wouldn’t have made it. She had been so horribly neglected that she panicked every time I left the house just to check the letter box. She had been banished from the bedroom and, judging by her frantic efforts to escape whenever I took her in there, this had been reinforced in a violent manner.

It took months of intensive nursing, but she is now back to her normal weight and she is calm and secure in her self again. I have since called all Lidia’s referees and informed them of my experience, reasoning that she wasn’t going to use me as a reference. I’ve also had her struck off the Housesitter registry.

All this had a disastrous effect on my own health and I was plunged into a severe MS attack which took months to recover from. Then I developed some other rather nasty symptoms and have spent the last four months being investigated for different forms of rheumatoid arthritis.

Before you ask – no, I haven’t finished my novel.

However, life is starting to get back under control and I should be more productive over the time to come. I have almost got the house back in order and the creative juices are starting to flow again.

So stay tuned.

ttfn,

S.

I’m home, kinda …

I’ve been a little quiet. Sorry. I have reasons though!

There was the jet lag, the unpacking, the plastic plants in my garden, the seriously ill and half-starved cat, removing the house-sitter’s furniture and the incredibly large amount of cleaning I needed to do.

Plus a few crying jags – to round out my activities.

Don’t adjust your set; you read all of that correctly.

I shall fill in the details at a later stage. However, people were wanting to know why I hadn’t posted since I left Texas. Well, now y’all have the goss.

In the meantime, the beloved Tash cat has started purring again and no longer panics if she wakes up and can’t see me. She has also stopped shouting at me. And she’s gaining some weight.

Phew.

Now, I must go and tend to the large area of soaked and mildewing carpet I have just discovered below my refrigerator and start lifting the vinyl kitchen tiles that have curled due to the same mysterious moisture.

Fun, fun, fun.

S.

Right wing red-neck rubbish.

Okay. Brace yourselves. I feel an essay coming on.

As my time in America comes to an end, I am still appalled at the contempt the conservative media commentators have for their audiences. Alan Jones has nothing on this lot, let me tell you.

Apparently, an American child is not guaranteed a secondary school education and this shows – unfortunately. The general public is so ill-informed about the world in general that they are easily swayed by the red neck rubbish that is fed to them by these bumptious idiots.

Mind you, if you dare to contradict anything they say, they pipe up with “Freedom of Speech” and label you “un-American.” It’s very sad really. Apparently the American version of freedom of speech includes never having to acknowledge another point of view or admit that you are wrong …

Firstly, let’s deal with ‘Socialism.’ The airwaves are full of rhetoric condemning this ism.

Ahem, Hear ye, Hear ye …

Socialism is the making of economic decisions based on what benefits society as a whole.

Capitalism is the making of economic decisions based on what benefits the owners of capital. Capital = Money.

Socialism does not mean communism. That is a different kettle of fish altogether. Most democratic nations are Socialist Democracies – there are no purely capitalist nations on the planet.

Are you still with me? Good.

At the moment there is a HUGE debate about the possible provision of a government run form of health insurance in the USA. The right wing are against this.

However, these are also the people who wanted unions to make concessions in the run up to the demise of GMH et al. What’s the link? I’m glad you asked, because not one of these commentators has addressed this.

In America, the large corporations include health insurance in their salary packages. This is something that started as a dodge to get around war-time caps on salaries – but that’s another issue.

The companies pay their workers’ premiums – not only while these people are working for them, but after they retire as well. If you are retired due to a disability, your company-provided health insurance remains. If you retire due to old age, the same thing happens. So companies pay HUGE amounts insuring people who no longer work for them and often the families of these people as well.

If the company goes broke, you lose your insurance. If you have stopped working due to a disability that was covered by your spouse’s insurance and you get divorced, you lose your coverage – and you can’t get covered by anyone else because you have a pre-existing condition.

This situation places an enormous strain on companies and formed a large part of the liabilities that were discussed during the debates on restructuring the motor industry. The right-wing media goons demanded that unions surrender the right to this coverage without actually explaining the wider implications of such an action to their audiences (ironically the audience tends to consist of the people who would be disadvantaged the most by these actions). They felt that it was unreasonable of the unions to try to hold onto this benefit for their former members.

However, the unions were very much aware that these retired sick and/or elderly members would not be able to afford coverage on their own and would be terribly vulnerable without it. They stuck to their guns. Yippee.

Health insurance is incredibly expensive here – often in the five figure range. Probably because it is usually paid for at the company level where monies paid can be claimed as expenses, and because there is no competition for the sector. This puts it out of the reach of most individuals.

Those people who don’t have insurance because they don’t work for a company that provides it, often don’t seek medical treatment. This means that medical conditions that can be reversed, if treated at an early stage, are instead left to continue on their natural course. So, people who may have been able to live long, healthy and productive lives, instead have their working lives cut short and their quality of life destroyed. In addition, their families are often bankrupted by the medical costs incurred while taking care of their loved ones.

This is where the socialism aspect of this issue comes in. If the government provides a form of health insurance at the federal level it will benefit American society as a whole at several levels.

Firstly, it would provide the competition that is missing in the sector and allow market forces to lower the cost of insurance across the board. (A fundamental tenet of capitalism by the way.)

Secondly, it would take a huge burden off companies, allowing them to deal with the here and now and to build their businesses – instead of taking care of superannuated former employees. That would make them more efficient participants in the capitalist system and stop them behaving as Socialist States all of their own.

Thirdly, it would mean that people would seek medical help at the earliest possible opportunity instead of waiting until it was too late to do anything about it. So, someone with gingivitis would get it treated and prevent the inevitable heart attack from happening. (Yes, gum disease causes heart attacks.) Someone with a cough from smoking might not develop full blown emphysema and someone with too much weight on their bones and a bad diet might not progress to Type 2 Diabetes and all that entails.

Similarly, their family members would not have to give up work or education opportunities to take care of them. In addition, these spouses and children would not suffer financially while they struggle to pay for the much more expensive medical treatment that their relative’s advanced condition would require.

So the benefits to society as a whole are many. The patient would remain a productive member of the workforce for a lot longer and their contribution to the capitalist system would increase the nation’s Gross Domestic Product – gotta be happy with that.

They would also be paying taxes for a lot longer, enabling the provision of better public services for their compatriots.

Their relatives would be able to work and pay taxes, or finish school and go onto higher paying jobs than they would have been able to secure otherwise.

The cost of health insurance would fall and new insurance products would become available as the insurance industry received an enormous boot up its complacent backside.

Also, hospital emergency rooms could be left to deal with true emergencies instead of the aftermath of long-ticking health time-bombs.

The only thing that would be left to happen would be requiring pundits to acknowledge that theirs isn’t the only opinion and to actually provide a factual basis for their arguments. Umm, hang on, I think the Easter Bunny is at the door …

Animal crackers.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the travel accessory of which I have the most need is a small donkey.

This, I feel, would meet so many of my requirements that I am – quite frankly – surprised that there aren’t more of them on the market. Or at least on more street corners.

A small equine-like mammal could lug around all the accoutrements so vital to surviving in the current Texan climate. You know: a hat; a cool drink; sunscreen; travel guidebook; umpteen million bus timetables; another cool drink; a snack; digital camera; wallet; moist towelettes to help one to cool down somewhat, and a cool drink. On occasion it could even be used to carry my own person out and about. And possibly to lug a liquid refreshment of the cool persuasion. Maybe.

It is mind-blowingly hot here at the moment. The daytime temperature is around 40 degrees and there is very little humidity. Needless to say, I am busy plotting my escape to the winter in Oz. Hopefully they will have the winter that Texas did not. If they don’t, I’m going to be needing a few more cool drinks.

I’m just saying ..!

This is not the place for a person with heat intolerance problems. However I soldier on. I’ve managed to get out to a few places in the last few weeks, but have always needed several days to recover afterwards.

Last week I visited the San Antonio Zoo which is situated in an old quarry not far from the centre of town. It had a lot of hills and a lot of small children – the summer holidays have begun here.

I must say, I found it quite distressing at first. The bear exhibits seemed terribly bare (excuse the pun) and then I saw the primate cages near the Butterfly House and thought I had gone back in time. Picture a large bird cage with some monkeys in it. Horrible isn’t it?

Monkeys at the San Antonio Zoo

Those leaves are PAINTED onto the wall - there are no plants in there.

I didn’t think you could see things like this in the western world any more. I very nearly turned around to go home, but it had taken me so long to get there I thought I should persevere.

I don’t know. I’ve been spoiled by the zoos at home, I guess. Some of the newer exhibits were up to standard – they had actual vegetation in them and room for the animals to move around. Very few of them had both. It looked as though they are slowly building newer displays for the animals, but the whole experience left me feeling very unsettled.

On the bright side, I bought an ice-cream from a machine and got a one dollar coin for change!  That was exciting!  I had to ask someone if it was actual currency …

ttfn,

S

Dulce et decorum est …

Last weekend was a long one here in the USA. It was Memorial Day weekend.

My military friends tell me this is a holiday to mark the sacrifice of all those who have died in war. They have another – Veterans Day – on what we would call Remembrance Day, which is a day off only for those in uniform and marks all those who have served.

I think the closest Australian comparison I could draw for today would be ANZAC Day but without all the history, patriotism, grief, ritual, ceremony, weeks of preparations, etc…

Instead, it appears to be an occasion on which one either has a barbecue or attends sales at malls. The particularly versatile members of the population do both and buy barbecues on sale at malls.

You get my drift.

I know I worked for Defence, and perhaps I have a greater sensitivity to these things than other Aussies, but frankly I am shocked. It’s bizarre. I am accustomed to weeks of buildup to commemorations, preparations for dawn services and pilgrimmages to ANZAC Cove. There are no television programs talking about the military history of America, explaining what the reasons were for sending these young people to die for their country, and nothing on the news programs about commemorations.

There have been no set pieces about school kids wanting to represent their grandfathers in marches or anything like that; nothing, nada, zip. There has been no examination of the role of other countries armed forces in American Celebrations (heaven forbid). There haven’t even been any people out collecting money for veterans’ organisations like our Legacy, etc.

Of course, they are quite entitled to mark the day as they see fit. Don’t misunderstand me here. I’m just remarking on the contrast between the cultures.

That’s all. It’s a shame really.

ttfn,

S.

Downbeat in San Antonio.

Hello All, I’m back – just.

I have been blogging over the last week or so, just not hitting the ‘publish’ button. It’s all been very beige, shall we say.

So, here I am attempting to publish something – anything -for the benefit of all those getting RSI from checking in 4 or 5 times a day to see if there is anything new up here. Yes, I know who you are, where you’re from and how often you are checking. Big brother loves the blogosphere.

In fact, for these people’s benefit, let’s visit the little orange button at the top left hand side of the screen … just under the masthead. Yes, that’s it, the one that appears next to the words “subscribe to feed”.

Can I suggest you take advantage of that and lodge me somewhere in your menu bar. That way you can just click on the button and see the titles of the last 5 posts – if there’s one you haven’t read, click on the link in the list and “Hey Presto!” you’ll be magically whisked off to read it. I promise.

In the meantime, my room has been “fogged” and I am no longer plagued by what turned out to be gnats. In Australia we call them sand-flies. I hate them – they love me. I’m still healing. On the day my room was fumigated I headed off to the Tower of the Americas on what was a mild day. Unfortunately, it turned into a scorcher and I have been recovering ever since. Hence the lack lustre writing efforts.

On the bright side, that day I also explored La Villita (the old city of San Antonio, now an arts precinct) and found a shop with a cat! A real live, purring feline. He was asleep on a garden chair outside and was quite happy to let me pat him for a while. It made my week, really.

I miss my cat. Can you tell?

I’m going to attempt to write more novel now, so that’s it for today. Hopefully I’ll be more sparkling in the next post.

ttfn,

S.

The latest from San Antonio.

Well, howdy do. I’ve been a tad quiet, I know. I have a very good reason for that – I’ve been writing. In fact, I’ve turned out more than 10,000 words in the last three days. So there.

I’ve now come to a bit of an impasse and have decided to take some time away from the room and the laptop.

I seem to have become the favourite midnight feast of some kind of insect and have reached the limit of my tolerance. My room/bed has been checked for bedbugs and none were found (phew!) However, I am going to set off what I would call a flea bomb, but what is known here in the States as a “fogger.” The room needs to be vacated for at least 2 hours while this happens, so I’m going touristing.

In fact, it was asking if said fogger would set off the smoke alarm in my room that led to the manager searching for bedbugs. I think it’s just mosquitos, but who knows? What really concerned me was something I came across in my search for a solution. I really didn’t want to have to cover myself in repellent before going to sleep – the scent would probably keep me awake all night – so I was looking for a more final solution.

Then I noticed that all the cans of mozzie spray had subtitles stating: kills insects that carry the West Nile Virus. Che?

There’s a West Nile? I’d heard of the Blue Nile and the White Nile, but wasn’t aware there were directional versions. Or that they had viruses, virii, virussies … argh?

Either way, don’t want none of that, thank you very much. So tomorrow, I fog. I’ll probably also suffer from heat exhaustion because it’s into the high 30s here. I’ve wanted to do some more exploring though and this is a fine excuse to do so.

And my fingers hurt.

ttfn

S.

On the road again…

No, I’ve not moved, I’ve just managed to get moving again.

I had to stop exercising when I was laid low by the dreaded porcine lurgy. It is very dangerous to exercise when you have a virus, as it puts too great a load on the heart.

I had been very good up to that point. I’m not able to do a great deal when it comes to physical activity as the MS tends to jump up and bite me at inopportune moments – like my legs failing somewhere away from home if I go walking, just as a f’rinstance.

One thing I have always done is light handweights and I am quite muscular in my upper body, though not bulky. This has caused me insurmountable grief when shopping for clothes in the USA as it appears that American women don’t have biceps. Of any kind. Apparently. I have to buy shirts several sizes larger than I need, just to get them to fit around my arms. Sigh.

Anyway, I couldn’t bring my weights with me – can you imagine the excess luggage costs? – and I needed to do something before I turned to flab. So, I used the old noggin and went to Walmart. There was no way I was spending money on weights while I was here, so I bought two 1.2 litre drink flasks with handles on them instead.

My makeshift handweights.

One litre of water weighs one kilogram. So, I started off doing my routine with 500ml and worked my way up as I got back into form. The bottles are a little bulky, but I can hold them by the handles and they cost me $1.40 each. I’d just gotten to the two sets of reps stage when I got sick.

So, I started again yesterday with only one set – it almost killed me. I couldn’t believe how hard it was! Man!! No ill effects today though.

I have been wanting to do some more aerobic-type exercise. The treatment for an MS attack is large quantities of IV corticosteroids, which cause the body to retain fluid and create abdominal fat; both of which are incredibly hard to shift and cumulative. I’m thoroughly sick of both of them and want to get something resembling my own body back.

At home I have a stationary bicycle, but I’m unwilling to pay to join a gym here to use one of theirs. I considered going walking around the neighbourhood, but the fear of getting away from the hotel and being unable to get back is a major deterrent. The heat outside would cut my ability to move short and I wouldn’t be able to get any sort of speed up without running the risk of the legs not obeying instructions at the next step. That also puts my dignity at risk, and is terribly unattractive as an option.

However, the less you move, the harder it becomes to move. So, I had started setting a timer for 10 mins and just walking on the spot in my hotel room for 10 minutes at a time. I fold up the coverlet from the bed (which I never use, as it is far too hot) and walk on it. It cushions my steps, so I don’t get shin splints and means my downstairs neighbours don’t get disturbed.

When I was at Borders last week, I picked up a copy of the Prevention Guide, Walking Fit. It advertised walking fitness plans inside and that grabbed my attention. It was/is an absolute treasure trove of info and I was all fired up to get going after reading it.

The interval workouts seemed to be the most effective and involved walking at different speeds for different periods of time. The problem was that I had no idea how fast I was going at any time!

Then I saw an article on songs with the right beats per minute for different speeds and started toward my computer and iTunes… then something else caught my eye. Instead of listening to the same tunes all the time, someone called Podrunner had put together podcasts to fit the different walking plans; available through iTunes or their own site.

Hmmm. Went to the site, downloaded the tunes, like them very much. I quite like techno and electronic music, so these mixes are right up my street and I won’t get bored hearing the same music each time. I also don’t need to think about what order I should do things in or any other technical stuff. The music is slow, I walk slowly; the music is fast, I walk faster. Bewdy.

And if I get too hot, I’m near the airconditioning – if my legs fail, I’ve got a bed to fall onto nearby. So, I’ve got a plan and a pleasant listening experience to look forward to.

I did the first “walk” out today and it pushed me, but not too hard and I now feel like I have achieved something. It’s a 10 week programme, so we’ll see how far I get, but I’m feeling positive and (ahem) upbeat about it all!

Now, though, it’s back to work on the novel.

ttfn,

S.

Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oi, Oi, Oi!

I’ve reached the stage in my trip where I am absolutely desperate to hear an Australian accent.

I mean it. Everytime something even remotely sounds Australian on the TV, I stop what I’m doing and come running. The Sunchip ad is my favourite, although I’m still trying to figure out why they have an Aussie doing their voiceover.

Australian characters keep popping up in television shows and, instead of thinking about how unbelievably ocker these people sound, I just think, “Yep, that‘s the stuff.”

I can’t listen to American radio, strangely. I’ve been trying to figure out why. I think it’s because I’m so used to hearing American accents on the telly at home, so it’s no big deal, but I’m not used to hearing them on the radio. I won’t even listen to the American Top 40 at home, so I’m not about to start here, I guess.

I’ve recently started watching the morning news suite on ABC2 on-line. Mind you, it’s an afternoon broadcast for me. It’s also one way to get a look at what is happening in the world, rather than just what is happening in the USA. The reported lack of US news about international affairs is not exaggerated back home. The only time you hear about anything happening elsewhere is if it is in direct relationship to the USA.

Quite strange for anyone who has grown up with balanced, neutral journalistic standards – cause they don’t exist here either. In fact, I find myself appalled at the absolute contempt with which a lot of the commentators treat their listeners (esp. on the conservative side of things), but that’s another post I think.

I am feeling much better. I woke up feeling quite ill and weak, with a high temperature and excruciating joint pain, especially in my hands and wrists. The pain is still there but, as of about an hour ago, I feel much better over all. I also have doctor friends emailing me at regular intervals to check on how I’m going – so sweet!

I think a nutritious meal and a good night’s sleep and I should be back to – almost – normal.

Then back to the manuscript tomorrow, hopefully.

ttfn.

S.

I opened the window and in flew Enza.

I have a flu.

I don’t know what sort, but it’s one of them. Everything aches and my wrists and elbows are particularly painful. My temperature has gone up a degree or so, but it’s not yet at the “fever” level and my neck glands are up too. I’m also very, very tired.

However, I have no signs of respiratory distress at all – so chill, everyone. I’m not coughing, sneezing or wheezing. I’ve had pneumonia in the past and know what it looks and feels like, so as soon as I think I’m even looking like I’m in trouble, I’ll find a doctor.

I promise.

I guess I should also contact my health insurers and ask them what I should be doing… Maybe tomorrow, after I’ve had a bit of a lie down. Again.

In the meantime, I wish my cat were here. There’s something infinitely comforting about having a small, warm purr-box in the bed with you.

I’m not surprised that the virus may have travelled so far and into unconnected communities, this has got to be the windiest place I have ever been. I’d really hate to be in Chicago if that’s considered to be the windy city. I’ve lost track of the number of times that shopping bags have been whipped out of my hands on the street!

What I really need is one of the kites my brother bought in Bali a few years back – that would be fun. I did have pork mince chilli for dinner though – I think of it as pre-emptive revenge.

This post is beginning to ramble and the world is spinning slightly. So I shall sign off and crawl back into my bed.

ttfn,

S.