The very consequential week

Ten years ago this week as very consequential for me. This week in 2016, I unexpectedly recived a stent in a 90% blocked coronary artery, and because of that, I’m still here to talk about it.

The story began on Monday, August 15, 2016 I went to my doctor because I thought my medication was making me feel bad. Nigel coached me on what to say, how best to stand up for myself. Neither of us expected that I’d be sent to the hospital in the back of an ambulance, let alone that they’d admit me so they could give a treadmill stress test the next day. That test was stopped after only a few minutes due to the readings. I was scheduled for an angiogram for the next day, Wednesday, andwhen they discovered the blocakage in my coronary artery, they inserted a stent. I went home the next day, Thursday, August 18, 2016, and on Friday, back at home, I mostly just rested and relaxed.

I talked about this story in great detail a few days after I got home, and in that post I said:

All of this came about because my doctor listened to me and investigated my complaints, but the reason I complained was because Nigel both nagged me and coached me. Without his support, I may not have pursued this, and there’s no way of knowing whether I’d have had another chance.

As I've said many times and in many ways, Nigel was my rock, my trusted advisor, my advocate, my coach, and the one person I could always count on—including taking me for treatment when my heart started acting up, like the two times I ended up in hospital. I spent the three years after getting the stent dealing with tachycardia, then atrial fibrillation, and also trouble with several prescriptions, and Nigel was there every step of the way.

The last time I was admitted to hospital (so far…) was around four months before Nigel died. In fact, when he was first admitted to hospital in September 2019, we joked about how it was his turn and the Middlemore “spa” (the hospital name is Middlemore). Ten days later, he was gone.

Around a month after Nigel died, I had a follow-up appointment with the cardiology team, who recommended me for cryoablation treatment to try to fix my afib. That appointment was the first medical thing I’d done after Nigel died—and suddenly realised I had to figure out who to name as my emergency contact, after a quarter century of Nigel being that person for me, and me for him. It was an incredibly difficult moment for me, but I managed to not cry in the waiting room.

Three months after that cardiology appointment, I shifted to Kirikiriroa-Hamilton. A couple months after that, we had the first Covid lockdown. In December 2020, I finally got my cryoablation procedure at Waikato Hospital (a day treatment), after months of delays caused by the insurance company I had at the time taking many months to finally decide to decline the claim, then there was Covid, and the fact I needed to see (and pay for) a private appointment with a cardiologist here in Hamilton to get onto the waiting list for the procedure.

When the day finally arrived, my brother-in-law drove me to the hospital, a my sister-in-law Barbara picked me up afterward (both because I wasn’t allowed to drive due to receiving a light anesthesia). Also, my sister-in-law Carolyn stayed at my house that night (in order for the hospital to let me go home, they required that I have someone stay at my place overnight—just in case, I guess). The procedure seems to have been a success, since I haven’t had any afib incidents since. But the we also lost Carolyn to cancer in February last year.

My story underscores several things. First, paying attention to one’s body is extremely important—obviously. It’s also important to have people on your “team”, and, as so many of my stories have underscored, when I married Nigel, it meant becoming part of a large family, and I know that if I need help again in the future, they’ll be there. However, I have to be honest: It’s not even remotely the same as having Nigel with me, in sickness and in health—though that particular phrase wasn’t actually part of our civil union or marriage vows.

I’ve had other health challenges since Nigel died, some scary (like the cryoablation procedure), others merely annoying, and most were just kind of meh. The family was, of course, there when I needed them to be, and I’ve been deeply grateful each time. I know, though, that if Nigel had been with me over the past nearly seven years, my journey would have been so much easier. Even so, there’s one thing more: I also know that Nigel would be proud of me for having successfully navigated the challenges of my health journey, things he never lived to see, and especially that I’ve been working hard on trying to prepare myself as well as I can for my elderly years. He’d also be sad that sometimes my journey’s been really difficult for me, but mainly he’d be happy that I chose to thrive well into the future (if the fates allow…).

In so many ways, this week a decade ago was a turning point, though some of what my journey was to become was utterly unimaginable for me back then. Even so, I’m still here, and still pushing forward. Sure, Nigel would be proud of me for that, but maybe more importantly, I’m proud of myself. That really is just like ten years ago.

A project finally ends

Today I finished a project to install a wardrobe shelving system in my guest room wardrobe (this is the project I mentioned a couple weeks ago). The short video above shows the project.

This sort of project would normally take me two or three days, but this one took four weeks. Part of the reason for the extra time was that I had to make a LOT of repairs to the walls because the supports for the former single shelf were glued and nailed to the walls, and when I removed the supports, it tore chunks out of the wallboard.

However, the main reason it took so bloody long was that I started the project during the time I was taking that ill-fated prescription I talked about a couple weeks ago, and it’s taken time for me to feel like my usual self. Today I was determined to finish the project—forcing myself, if necessary—and I succeeded. My guest room is again neat, tidy, and ready for guests—FINALLY! This evening I turned on the bedside lamps so I could see the room as it should be every time I walked past the room. Kind of my reward, I suppose.

The video was made automatically for me by the Photos App on my iPad, including adding the backing music. I’d placed all the progress photos and videos I took over the weeks I worked on the project into an album I created, and then the App put all of them into the video, in order (though I rearranged a few photos because I’d added them to the album out of order). And, of course, the photos and videos are all mine.

The stuff of life

Many years ago (up to 15, I think), I switched us to the soy and linseed variety of a supermarket bread called Bürgen. It was for specific health reasons, and that decision meant that bread was a part of the life Nigel and I shared. Today it was announced that the Australian owners of the Bürgen brand are withdrawing it from New Zealand. That baked up some memories.

I suggested to Nigel that we switch to the bread because its soy and linseed were good for heart health, and especially because at the time it was the only low GI bread sold in supermarkets (this was well before my cardiac stent). Nigel and I ended up having some nearly every morning after that—in fact, it was part of Nigel’s weekday breakfasts for the last several years of his life (usually prepared by me): Peanut butter and jam on toast, and put on a plastic plate so he could bring it in the car on his commute to the office, and he’d use an old tea towel as a bib so he wouldn’t drop any on his work shirt. Because he’d often forget to bring them back into the house when he came home, he’d sometimes bring in a stack of plates and tea towels for me to deal with—and several times I had to go out to his car to collect them myself because we were starting to run out of the supplies (I mentioned all this in a a 2023 post (forst iterm).

After Nigel died I moved to Kirikiriroa-Hamilton and noticed that particular variety of bread was getting harder and harder to find, especially at my local Woolworths, where it was often out of stock (I could get it for more often by home delivery from Woolies, or from the nearest New World). So, I started using my breadmaker sometimes, and then started experimenting with other supermarket brands, including others with soy and linseed. That led to a bit of a revelation.

I was surprised at how much more fibre per 100 grams other brands had than the Bürgen loaf we’d always bought. In fact, I thought about blogging about that, since I’d talked about the bread and it also relates to my continuing health journey. If I’d done that post, I would’ve mentioned that the Bürgen Soy and Linseed bread has 4.4 grams of fibre per 100 grams of bread, along with 347g of sodium per 100g, and total cabs of 27.6g per 100 grams. This compares to the bread I usually buy these days, a “lower carb” loaf: Fibre is 8.9g per 100g, sodium is 355g per 100g, and total carbs is 24.8g per 100g. Well, at least the fibre of the current bread is a lot higher. But, there’s more!

As it happens, I’ve been learning a lot lately about healthier eating, and I learned that if you freeze bread, the carbs are turned into what’s called “resistant starch”, which is important because the body can’t break it down as quickly as normal starch, and that means the body treats it more like dietary fiber, which reduces the bread's glycemic index (GI), reducing blood sugar spikes (and lower GI bread was one of the reasons we switched to the Bürgen all those years ago). Bonus fact: refrigerating cooked pasta or white rice overnight does the same thing for them, and that doesn’t change when you re-heat it the next day. I definitely plan on starting to keep my bread in the freezer, but I need to clear space—and I only learned about these “resistant starch” tricks in the past week, so I’m cutting myself some slack on this.

in the past couplpe years, and probably partly because it was often difficult to get the Bürgen bread here in Hamilton, I gradually became less enthused about the bread we’d had for all those years, so I doubt I’ll miss it. However, the Bürgen slice size was smaller than most supermarket breads, and that I will miss.

Seeing the announcement this morning made me think of two things. First, how even something as small (literally) as a loaf of supermarket bread can be a constant in our lives. The other thing was that I really ought to resume trying to find a breadmaker recipe that I actually like (the results have been mostly “meh” for me for several years, which is why I hardly ever make bread any more). I know I probably won’t do that, though—there are far too many other things demanding my time, attention, and my sometimes limited energy. Besides, there are plenty of options available already made for me.

Yes, all that. But what I wouldn’t give to still be making peanut butter and jam on toast for Nigel. Of course.

A good day’s adventure

I had a good day today. The big event for today was that I was meeting-up with some of the family for lunch at the casino in central Kirikiriroa-Hamilton. First things first: Getting there was a challenge for me. Several challenges, actually.

The big challenge for me today was the fact that I’ve never driven myself to the casino before, and I usually get pretty anxious about driving somewhere I’ve never been. In this case, it was especially true because I’m not familiar with the streets in Central Hamilton. Nigel always drove us to places like that, and he never seemed to have the same issues that I do now. It's just yet another thing I need to work out on my own. Nevertheless, when faced with tasks that make me uncomfortable or anxious, I try to force myself to do things (like today’s trip), despite the unease I feel, because I refuse to let fear, great or small, stop me from doing things I want to do (except when I do let it do that, of course—it’s a journey…). Nigel was often impressed (surprised?) when I'd "feel the fear and do it anyway". Maybe because it wasn't often enough? 

As it happens, I only made two wrong turns, both of which were my fault, and not the GPS’ (because I’m not familiar with the layout of the streets, I twice turned a street earlier than the GPS commanded, but I guess that at least I became slightly more familiar with some of the streets in the area?). When I turned onto the street that I knew led to the casino carpark, Apple Maps kept growling at me with what seemed like increasing annoyance (though reason tells me it was probably just increasing frequency…), over and over again demanding that I “return to the route”. Instead, I ordered Siri to “cancel navigation”, and silence again reigned supreme.

Today was the birthday of one of my sisters in law, which was the reason for our gathering. I thought the food was nice (I had the fish and chips, for the record, and the fish of the day was snapper). One odd thing, though, was that if a customer doesn’t finish their meal (And, again for the record, I absolutely finished my meal), they can’t take the leftovers home. It supposedly has something to do with food safety, but I’ve never heard of a NZ cafe doing that.

In general, casinos aren’t a draw for me, mainly because I’m not the least bit interested in gambling (unless you count me buying NZ Lotto tickets, where the profits are returned to the community, not shareholders). The Hamilton casino is much smaller than Auckland’s, of course, but it has a strong advantage for Hamilton in that it’s pretty central in the CBD (aka “downtown” in Americanese). But both the Auckland and Hamilton casinos are mainly about gambling, and so, they aren’t places I’d go to except for occasions like today’s.

All joking aside, I had a good day today, and I got myself to my destination and back home again. Actually, I already knew how to get home from the casino, and that means that next time I’ll also know how to get to the casino, too. So, it turns out that today’s mission wasn’t just a travel adventure, it was also a genuine learning opportunity.

Today was a good day. But I still didn’t gamble—well, apart from the drive to the casino, maybe.

A creative haul

Two weeks ago today, I went on a mini-shopping trip. I intended to do a blog post of the “haul”, much as I did way back in March of 2022, when I shared a “shopping haul” photo, in a post that was somewhat tongue-in-cheek. So, I began a post in the same vein, however, I was having trouble making it come together. When I got to the third draft of that post, I realised that this one was different: It was motivated by a very specific thing, something I kept putting off: I wanted to get supplies for certain creative things I wanted to do.

The photo up top was my second attempt to capture the “haul”, after I worked out there were two very separate “hauls”, both with stuff with different stories. This post is about the more important of the two (the other will follow tomorrow).

Of the stuff in the photo, the item standing in the back is the most general: It’s an A2-size cutting mat, something I use whenever I use a razor or craft knife to cut things out of paper, like when I make labels for storage containers in my pantry, but I’ve used cutting mats for all sorts of creative projects over the years. I already have one cutting mat that’s smaller than a sheet of office paper, and I’ve had it for 20+ years. I also have one that’s A3 (similar to 11x17 in US paper size, and the A2 one is like two of those side-by-side vertically). The small one is often too small (even WAY too small), and right now I have no idea where the larger one is, or even if I still have it (I think I do…). This new cutting mat is big enough for everything I need/want to do, which is why I’ve wanted one like it for so long.

At the right-hand side, and leaning against the mat, is a pad of paper suitable for use with acrylic paints, and on the ground in front of it is a set of acrylic paints. To its left, in the centre on the floor, is a set of mixed media brushes. To its left (the left side on the floor) is a pad of watercolour paper. I already have a set of watercolour paints that I bought a couple years ago and never used because I didn’t have the right paper. The final part of the painting supplies is standing up on the left-most side: A pad of palette paper for use with the acrylic paints. Together, all of those supplies were the real point of my shopping excursion.

Both my parents occasionally painted, mostly using oil paints, so I grew up with the (occasional) smell of oil paints, linseed oil, and turpentine, and to me, it smelled like art. A decade and a bit later, I was in high school and found myself with long blocks in “study hall”, which was boring. So, I added a basic art class. The next semester I took a painting class. After high school, I continued to paint in oil and water colours, but stopped—for absolutely no reason—before I was 20.

In the decades since, I often thought about picking it up again, and in the Covid Era I even ordered a basic set of water colours, which is what I referring to earlier. A couple years ago, I went with my brother-in-law and his partner to Raglan, a bohemian beachside community on New Zealand’s Tasman coast, west of Hamilton, and it has a lot of artists’ galleries of various kinds. We were walking through one gallery when I said offhandedly that sometimes I thought about taking up painting again, and my brother-in-law said, “why don’t you?” In a rare moment of clarity I said, “Because the last thing I need is yet another thing I’m NOT doing.” And there it stayed.

Three weeks before my shopping trip, I went to Warehouse Stationery and looked at the stuff I’d need (all of which is in the photo), but bought nothing. The first Tuesday of every month is “Gold Card” day, which gives us cardholders (folks 65+) a 5% discount, and while that’s not much, it’s also not nothing. But, why this month, and not any of the previous “Gold Card” days over the past few years? It was because I came to a realisation.

There are many things I want to do that I’ve felt I couldn’t do for one reason or another. For example, I can’t work on furniture because there’s no room in the garage, and because that was the case, I felt I couldn’t do anything about any of the other creative things I’ve wanted to do, either, and that obviously included painting. I also realised that there were specific barriers, such as, I didn’t have any of the things in the photo. Buying them wasn’t horribly expensive, and getting them means that I can paint, regardless of whether I actually do. The barriers are now removed, and the rest is up to me—and inspiration.

I have no illusions that I’ll ever be objectively “good” at painting—though, how can I ever find out if I never try? However, the reality is that the main reason I started focusing my visual creativity on photography was that it was the first time I managed to capture what my mind saw. At least now I have what I need to find out if painting is for me—assuming I choose to try.

There’s one more thing I bought for creative reasons: In the centre of the things standing and leaning against the cutting mat are some house-shaped cookie cutters. I saw them by chance when I was looking for something else, and they’re perfect for a craft project I’ll work on later this year, which I’ll talk about then—also assuming I actually do that, of course. However, I’ll also use them for making cookies, so even if the craft project doesn’t work out, I’ll still get use out of them—which is honestly more than I can say about anything else in the photo, apart from the cutting mat, which will get a lot of use.

Part of my motivation for acting was that I got 5% off everything I bought, which, as I said, isn’t much, but it’s also not nothing. But everything I bought—in this “creative haul” and the one I’ll talk about tomorrow—was something to me, regardless of whether I use the creative stuff or not. The biggest thing, though, wasn’t the stuff I bought, nor what ultimately happens with them, it was that I decided to start removing barriers that have kept me from doing the things I want to do, the things that might actually finally help me build whatever my life is going to become. Actually, that’s precisely why I created my latest plan to change my house, as I discussed last Friday.

In the end, my hope is that all of this barrier removal so far will lead me to remove even more barriers. If that happens, it’ll be a bargain at any price. Discount not required.

The next phase

I have a plan. It’s no longer theoretical, or merely possible, but actually already in progress. I entirely skipped over the concepts of a plan stage, though, obviously, no sensible person would ever think that was actually a thing. Of course. Instead, I’ve made actual plans, and they’re now beginning.

This all relates to what’s essentially the last remaining work on the inside of my house, and I’m starting inside for good reason: It’s literally the middle of winter here in Aotearoa-New Zealand, and that means that it’s not pleasant to be doing stuff outside (or in the garage), though I do make sure I mow the back lawn every other week. It’s cold and damp outside most days, and while neither would my choice of weather to work in, it also a lot rains this time of year, and so, outside work isn’t happening right now.

A month ago, I wrote about sending piles of clothes and bedding off to a charity shop, something that took me a couple months to finish because I constantly kept finding more stuff to donate. On that last day, when the stuff left my house, I already had a vision for what was next.

As I said last month, my priority is the inside of my house because “I want it to be my sanctuary”. I decided to start with what seemed to me to be the “easiest” room, the living area. The stuff headed for the charity shop had been piled up in the living area of my house all that time, and after helping me get it all packed and ready leave, family members then helped me tidy and clean up the living area, something I definitely neglected during the sorting phase. Since then, I’ve focused on keeping it tidy, and that includes vacuuming a couple times a week (and I’m very glad I bought my stick vacuum last September.)

The next phase is to finish decluttering the living area, because there are three spots that have some excess stuff. However. This work will be interspersed with a different room, the guest room.

Work on the guest room isn’t about decluttering as such because the room doesn’t have unnecessary stuff in it. However, the room’s wardrobe has become a sort of storage cupboard, and one that’s not well-organised. So, I’m going to finally install the wardrobe system I bought for the guest room wardrobe. That project will mean I first have to do some wall repairs, then prime and then re-paint the inside of the wardrobe. While those repairs are drying, I’ll work on finishing the living area. I emptied that wardrobe today so I can start working on that wardrobe tomorrow morning.

I’m pretty sure that I’ll finish the decluttering in the living area before I’m done installing the wardrobe system, so if I still have down time on that wardrobe project, I’ll use it to work on tidying my bedroom. I’d almost completed work on my bedroom (not including the wardrobe) quite awhile ago, but when family was staying with me for a time recently, I needed to empty out the guest room and its wardrobe, and some of that stuff ended up in my bedroom, back where there hadn’t been any clutter since last year.

Finishing my bedroom’s not a big job, so I can do it in small doses, like when I’m waiting for paint to dry in the guest room wardrobe. Installing a new wardrobe system in my bedroom’s walk-in wardrobe will be sometihng I’lll do much later on, mainly because the decluttering of clothes gave me a lot more space to hang things, and so, the reorganisation of that wardrobe isn’t a priority any more. My final inside project will be completely re-doing my office, which is so overrun with stuff that doesn’t belong in there that I very rarely actually use the room. I’ll talk about that more when I get to that stage.

I also have a number of relatively small projects for every room that are related more to decorating than mere decluttering and reorganising. Much of this will also be work I’ll do concurrently, and not entirely separately, so I’ll mostly talk about each room separately because it’ll be easier to understand what I’m talking about. There will be photos, of course.

The final inside project is The Garage Of No Return, and I hope to begin that in early spring, when it’s no longer bloody cold in there, but before it gets hot. That’s also the time I’ll start working on outside projects, too, so that when spring actually arrives I’ll be ready for it. As with the projects for each room, the garden is a subject all on its own, and I’ll talk about that when I get to it.

And that’s the entire plan: It’s not linear, but it’s definitely about methodically working on the things I need to, and in the ways that work best for me. I expect it’ll be quite a ride. I planned for that, too.

Successful return to the past

Yesterday morning I did something I haven’t done for nearly 60 years: I made scrambled eggs in a cast iron pan. That sentence raises so many eyebrows (even for me), that there’s only one logical solution: A blog post. And here we are.

When I was a young boy, my mother used cast iron pans—a larger-sized one, a medium one, and a small one. She also had a large deep-sided pan with a cast iron lid that she called a Dutch oven, but, to modern day me, it was like a very deep fry pan with a lid, though the use is what matters. Her pots, on the other hand, were all aluminium.

At some point around 1970, my parents got an aluminium fry pan with a Teflon coating, and that’s what I used after that—and nearly all my fry pans from that point were also aluminium with a nonstick coating right up until very recently. Some years back, I became aware of the research showing evidence of the potential toxicity of PFAS, the chemicals that are the artificial chemicals that are used in nonstick coating for cookware, but also in flame retardants, waterproofing treatments, carpets, yoga mats, wall paint, adhesives, and lots of other stuff. The stuff stay around in the environment for such an incredibly long time that they’re commonly known as “forever chemicals”. Some PFAS are carcinogens or endocrine disruptors and have been linked to all sorts of health problems. I wanted to move away from non-stick cookware to avoid PFAS.

Sometime between 15 and 20 years ago, Nigel bought us a set of stainless steel pots and pans from an online liquidation auction company, and I still have them all. He later got us a set of name-brand non-stick pots and pans that were all in a line carrying the name of a famous British chef and TV cooking show presenter (the brand and names aren’t relevant to my point). Nigel preferred the non-stick pots and pans, and for a time I was indifferent—though the nonstick frypans were undeniably easier to clean than the stainless steel one we also had.

Around 2015, give or take, I’d started becoming increasingly concerned about the proliferation of chemicals in everyday life—but I still used the non-stick cookware. That all changed after Nigel died and I moved to Hamilton: The hob (cooktop) in my new house was induction and incompatible with the non-stick cookware, apart from the two frypans, which had a steel plate in their bases for better heat capabilities (the pots’ metal were all exclusively aluminium). I gave the pots away, and kept the frypans.

The smaller of the two frypans (the oldest one, which Nigel bought separately) began to lose its non-stickiness, and I knew I needed a replacement. I decided to go back to my roots and buy a NZ-made cast iron fry pan, which I did in 2022. I didn’t mention that here at the time, but I did in 2024 when bought the same company's cast iron dutch oven to replace our older one that was also incompatible with my induction hob.

Cast iron has to be “seasoned” to be used, and over time it develops a natural non-stick surface. However, I only recently started using that pan reasonably often, so I didn’t know if it was non-stick enough. But it was becoming more urgent that I use it because a similarly sized ceramic-coated pan I was using was losing its non-stickability, and I needed an alternative.

It turned out that the cast-iron pan performed very well, with only a little sticking at the edges, where the base meets the wall, which is acceptable to me. It was, in fact, better than either the failed nonstick pan or the ceramic one, and the scrambled eggs stayed together, which is what I was after that day. My next attempt will be to try making fried eggs, and if that’s acceptable I’ll no longer need either the ceramic pan or the last remaining nonstick pan I have, although that one I’ll need to replace regatless because it’s slowly losing its non-stickability, and its surface is starting to get pits in it, which means it’s time for it to go).

I’m still mastering (re-mastering?) the use of cast iron cookware, a lifetime after I last regularly used that kind, but I feel good about this change—actually, it’s not a change as much as it’s going back to my roots. Apparently, this really is a successful return to my past from decades ago, but one that’s been in the works, one way or another, for many years. It’s about time. And patience. And the right cookware.

Resetting the house, part one

This photo might not look significant, but what it represents is huge: Four large rubbish bags, one ordinary one, a shopping bag, and a box, all filled with stuff that I was donating. This is an ongoing story.

In late February, I started going through clothes and continued off and on until last week (I kept realising there were more drawers or boxes to sort through). It’s a mix of stuff that was mine, Nigel’s, and Nigel’s partner before me, Gary (who died a couple years before Nigel and I became a couple). On Friday, as my final sorting before the donation, I gathered all the bedding I don’t want or need anymore, mostly duvet cover sets and some sheet sets for a bed I no longer have.

Friday evening, one of the family and I finished sorting and folding the clothes, and then Saturday morning another family member packed it all up and took it to the op shop (aka charity shop or thrift store). The photo is of the stuff’s last stop before leaving the house.

Getting rid of the clothes, etc., wasn’t even remotely emotionally challenging for me, though I did keep three things of Nigel’s for purely sentimental reasons (two shirts and a jacket). However, most things had memories or stories attached to them, and remembering them can actually be more tiring than the sorting itself—tiring, but not even remotely painful.

I still have a lot more stuff in the house to go through, like, for example, Nigel and I had lots of stuff for big family get-togethers, and I don’t need all of it anymore. That’ll be a big job, too, but it’ll free up a lot of space for the stuff I DO need or want.

Then, of course, there’s still the garage to declutter/clear out, but I don’t actually care about that: My top priority is to free the house itself of excess stuff, and then take on the garage. The reason is simple: I don’t go into the garage often, but I’m inside my house every day (obviously…) and I want it to be my sanctuary. First things first, in other words.

I first mentioned this decluttering in a post back in April, when I described as a project “neither planned nor even intended”. Technically, it’s actually a “sub-project” because it’s really one part of my “Operation Re-invent My House” project—or maybe “mega project” is more accurate? Anyway, this particular part was done in small bits, mainly because I kept sorting through more stuff until I decided to stop for the time being simply because I wanted to get the massive piles of stuff I’d set aside to donate out of the house. There will definitely be a lot more.

So, yesterday what felt to me like a massive amount of stuff left my house, and that was just the beginning. Suddenly this long and difficult journey I’ve been on felt a little bit shorter and easier, and, yet again, the family helped me get there. Now, on to the next goal! It feels a bit more achievable now.

Leo is nine

Today isn’t merely the first day of winter in this part of the word, nor is it merely the King’s Birthday public holiday in New Zealand, no, the MOST important thing is that today is my little boy Leo’s ninth birthday!

Leo came to live with us shortly before his first birthday, and was such a gentle, loving soul that Nigel said, "we're besotted with him,” and he was right. I still am enough for both of us.

I've written several times about the how he and I are the only survivors of the family he joined back in 2018, and how how he's on of the main reasons I'm still here to talk about it—and no, I'm not talking about anything dire that might have happened, but, rather, simply that he gave me a reason and focus to keep moving forward. In other words, Leo was with me during every loss, and that's made me feel incredibly lucky to have had him with me.

As has often happened in past years, he needs to be groomed, but unlike in the past, he's been allowing me to trim his fur and we're making progress. Hopefully he doesn't change his mind before we finish. Today, however, was a day off for him. Of course.

Happy Ninth Birthday, Leo!

(Also I don’t think he’s intentionally giving me side eye in his birthday portrait…)

Related:

Leo is eight – 2025
Leo is seven – 2024
Leo is six – 2023
Leo is five – 2022
Leo is four – 2021
Leo is three – 2020
Leo is two – 2019
Leo is one year old – 2018
Another new addition – The post in which I announced Leo joined our family
All blog posts tagged “Leo” – All the posts in which I’ve talked about him

Fortune’s favour

Maybe fortune favours the bold, as the saying goes, but maybe it’s simply persistence that wins the day. I’d like to think so, anyway.

Back in March, I wrote about a failed project to help Leo: I bought some steps to help Leo get up onto the bed more easily. At the time, it seemed like a good idea, but he wouldn’t use it, which I talked about in that post. But, contrary to what that post implied, I didn’t give up.

I recently moved the steps back to the foot of the bed, but rather than being parallel to the end of the bed as before, I turned them so they were perpendicular to the foot of the bed. I thought that in that position, when viewed from in front of the steps, they’d appear to rise easily from the floor to the bed top, and so, be less intimidating for Leo.

While I’d thought about doing that back in March, the reason I didn’t do it is that I felt it would stick out too far, maybe even creating a tripping hazard for me (I walk past it every twice a day, in the morning to open the window blinds and later in the day to close them for the night). I thought the tripping hazard had become minimal because I’d cleared out some “stuff” that had been stored in my bedroom for “quite some time”, and that meant there was more room at the foot of the bed. It was worth a try, I thought.

A couple weeks or so ago I moved the blanket box over a bit and dragged the steps to the side of it (see the photo up top). However, Leo still seemed uninterested in the steps. As I did in March, I tried to encourage him up the steps, placing his paws on the steps for him, and I did that a few times. That much worked, but he never initiated the climb on his own. I decided to regroup—and chill out.

I thought that maybe he just needed more time to feel comfortable with the steps and so be willing to use them on his own terms. Over maybe a couple weeks, he didn’t use the steps, preferring to jump up, awkwardly and seemingly with much effort.

Then, it suddenly changed.

The night before last, I said to Leo, as I do every night, “let’s go to bed,” and as is our ritual he walks slowly, looking up and me expectantly. I then ask him, “aren’t you forgetting something?”, and he runs back into the living are to grab Brown Dog, his favourite toy. Then we can go down the hallway to the bedroom at the other end of the house, Leo trotting ahead of me, tail wagging.

Two nights ago, he entered the bedroom, and started to veer right, which usually means he’s about to climb under the bed (he always goes under the bed from that side). However, he simply walked up the steps and then climbed them to get onto to the bed. I was shocked, and may even have gasped a bit as I put my hand over my mouth as I muttered a (nearly) silent, “oh my god!”

I praised Leo effusively, and he looked up at me with one of his, “what are you carrying on about? looks. I understood my notes from him and left him to play with his toy while I got ready for bed—wondering all the time if that had been a simple accident.

Last night we did our nightly ritual again and, as I’d hoped, he climbed the steps onto the bed. I cannot express how happy this made me: I started the whole thing to make his life a little bit easier, and seeing that he appeared to have adapted gave me all the feels. Nothing will change that, even if he doesn’t continue using the steps—but I have a feeling he’s worked out that the steps are a much easier way to get up there rather trying to jump up. It did make me think that maybe I should come up with a similar solution to help him get up on the sofa, but that space is much smaller and tighter than the bedroom is. More thought is required.

One thing I didn’t bother to mention in March—or at any other time, for that matter—is that for both me and Nigel, our dogs have always been allowed on the furniture, including the bed. I’m well aware that some people are against that, perhaps even strongly so, and such folks may harbour quite negative judgements of people like me. I couldn’t possibly care less. Both Nigel and I always considered our furbabies to be family, but after Nigel died, having the dogs sleeping near me every night was comforting, and now, after we also lost Sunny and Jake, I appreciate Leo’s presence even more. Many nights I wake up, then reach over to pat Leo before I go back to sleep. After so much loss and the change that demands, having Leo’s reassuring presence is pretty damn important.

And, that, in a nutshell, is why I launched this little project in the first place, and why I persisted after the initial failure. Leo has been so vitally important in my journey to learn how to create a new life for myself that there was never any doubt that I’d find a way forward.

This isn’t just about a plan coming together, or that persistence was a vital ingredient of the success. Instead, it was always about doing that I could to make my little guy’s life a little bit easier. It the very least I could do.

But, yeah: Maybe fortune really does favour the persistent.

A well-meaning fail

Not every project I take on works out, but all of them begin with good intentions. Recently I tried a project with the best of intentions, but it didn’t pan out. Even so, I don’t regret a thing.

The background is simple: Leo will turn nine in a few months, and I’ve noticed that as he’s grown older, he’s had more trouble jumping onto furniture, like our bed. To be honest, I think some of it is performative, because if I walk over to lift him up, he suddenly manages to jump up on the bed or whatever. Even so, he’s a little guy about to turn nine, and, just like me, he’ll need some minor alterations to things to make his ageing easier.

I thought that there was something I could do to help him, and I designed something, a kind of steps to put at the foot of the bed. I imagined a three-tier thing with storage in each tier. It’d be strong enough for me to sit on, like wooden the blanket box that’s there right now. However, the Garage of No Return doesn’t have enough room for me to build anything, and I don’t know when that will change (note I didn’t say “if”—I live in hope).

It was then that I found a four-tier step system (the bottom of the two photos at left; the blanket box I mentioned is the top half) that I thought would work. It’s a bit smaller than what I designed, but I thought that the four steps would make it easier for Leo. Each “step” is actually a soft-sided storage box, and each step is attached to the next-smaller step using a zip (aka zipper) on the front and back. The zips were a little tricky to fasten, but assembly was otherwise straightforward

And that was the end of the success. Leo wouldn’t step on any step, and wouldn’t jump onto a high one like he did on the old blanket box. I tried to lead him up the steps, but his reaction was as if he thought I was trying to hurt him. He didn’t “get” how to walk up stairs. He’s a smart guy, so this puzzled me—after all, we had stairs in the last house we all had together.

Yeah, well, I often forget how much time has passed since then. He lived in that house for 19 months (beginning shortly before his first birthday, and we moved away when he was 2 years old). I can’t remember how often he went up and down stairs at the old house, but we left that house more than six years ago, and we’ve lived in this one-storey house ever since.

I know that it may have nothing to do with his past, but the small stairs I bought for him may not have felt safe to him. So, I put the old blanket box back with just a blanket on top of it (making the top he jumps onto a centimetre or so lower than it had been).I moved the fancy steps over to the other side of the bed and put some of his toys on higher steps: He’s never tried to get them, not even when I put his favourite toy on it. I think that if the steps were more conventional, he might’ve been more willing to use it—or, at least, not as frightened of it as he seemed to be, but it it what it is.

This means I’m probably back to building something for him. Right now I think it should have a wide lower step for him to step onto, but I’ll have to create a temporary one to see if he uses it. We’ll see. The point is, just as I have various plans to make this house better for ageing me, I’ll make changes to make things easier for an ageing Leo, too. This particular attempt just wasn’t a good one. Oh, well—onward.

Being prepared is a journey

Three years ago yesterday, on February 14, 2023, two days after Cyclone Gabrielle had left Kirikiriroa-Hamilton behind, we lost power in my neighbourhood, something I mentioned in my treatise post about the cyclone a week later. It turned out that the power was shut off in order to repair a fallen cable, which is why it was only off for a couple hours—though I didn’t know any of that when I made the Facebook post up top.

In the part of my post where I talked about the power outage, I talked about what I did to cope, thinking the power might be off for a couple days. I mentioned going to one of the hardware home centres to buy a shop light that runs on the same 18v batteries I use for my power tools (and that now also powers the stick vacuum I bought last year). I later misplaced that light during one of my millions of failed attempts to tidy the garage, but, fortunately, I haven’t needed it since.

I also mentioned that I got an LPG (propane) bottle for the BBQ so I could cook, and that I couldn’t get it to work. That’s still not working. However, I didn’t mention that I’ve never actually used a gas BBQ, because that had always been Nigel’s job and I never learned). However, I still have the full gas bottle, and now that I’ll be able to actually use the patio I want to get the BBQ going again. Failing that, I also still have an LPG table-top outdoor heater that was the only thing Nigel wanted for his 40th birthday, and it may be more useful to me, particularly with Autumn only two weeks away. Or, not.

At any rate, I blame sleep deprivation three years ago for my lame jokes in the post. Coincidentally, parts of the country, especially the east coast of the North Island, have been experiencing a big (but non-cyclone) big storm, and that includies areas that got hit by a fatal storm three weeks ago. Kirikiriroa-Hamilton’s weather wasn’t too bad, though, fortunately.

In the three years since that cyclone, I haven’t done anything about electricity reslience, like adding a battery bank to my solar power system or getting a battery back-up that I can use to keep my fridge running it the power goes out. I still think a single back-up is a better option than a whole-house battery backup, but it’s a huge topic and researching it has require far more time than I’ve had available. Finding the right solution is still on the agenda, though—alongside so many other things.

New Zealand, like most places, has been experiencing more bad storms more frequently than, say, 30 years ago when I arrived in New Zealand. That trend will only continue in the years ahead, and we all need to do what we cane to prepare doe “severe weather events”. Despite everything, I’m actually better prepared than I was in 2023. That’s a good start.

Keeping the bugs outside

Today the flyscreens (aka “window screens”) were installed at my house. It took a couple months for that to happen, but they’re better than I expected. This is also the final of the home improvement projects I hired others to do. It’s been a long journey.

Back in October, I went to the Waikato Home and Garden Show with my cousin-in-law, and I signed up for quotes on patio covers, ducted air conditioning, and fly screens. The quotes were all in by mid-month, apart from the screens because I decided on a different kind of screen than was originally quoted, and they had to re-measure the affected windows. That happened in early December.

What I opted for were simple screens that attach with magnetic tape. Because all the joinery (windows and window and door frames) is aluminium, they put magnetic tape of one pole onto the window frame, and the other pole is attached to the screen. My windows are all awning-style, hinged at the top and opened with latch-handles at the bottom. When the window’s closed, it pushes the bottom of the screen forward, then when the window is closed, the screen snaps closed against the magnet tape on the window frame (see the photo up top).

I originally wanted a more or less conventional type with an aluminium frame, but it’s hinged at the top. Unfortunately, I couldn’t have those because the blinds I had installed when I shifted into the house didn’t leave enough room. It took me around a month to decide what I wanted to do, basically, if I couldn’t have what I wanted, did I want what I could have?

What motivated me to proceed was nature: I always open the en suite window after my shower (year round) to help the extractor fan remove the moisture better/faster, and I leave it open for around 15-20 minutes. Two different times this past Spring, a big, ugly outdoors cockroach crawled in through that open window. Both of course exited the house as ex-cockroaches. That horror was enough to convinced me to get the screens I could have.

I ordered nine screens: One for the en suite, three for the main bedroom, one each for the other two bedrooms, one for a little window in the living area, along with one for the window in each set of stacker doors (and because they’re stacker doors, this was the only screen option possible).

I chose not to put them in the two front windows because Leo might go through them to try to get at a passing cat or dog, and, anyway, I’ve never opened those windows, and can’t image that I ever would. I also didn’t get screens for the two windows in the garage (I’ve never opened them, either), nor for the toilet (room, not throne) or main bathroom, mainly because of cost.

The guy arrived a little after 9am (ugh) this morning, and he was finished a couple hours later. I kept Leo close to me, on lead, and he eventually settled, though he wasn’t too pleased about it—apart from when I slipped him a little treat. Twice.

So, that’s that: The last project I hired people to do is now finished. The first to be completed were window blinds for the toilet (room not throne), bathroom, and en suite. Then it was the ducted air conditioning (with an add-on project to remove the broken split unit from the living area, along with its compressor on the patio). Next was the roof over my patio (installed on my birthday, no less), and today the screens.

I’ll probably have more things done, but the only one I’m planning at the moment is having the range hood/extractor fan raised because it’s far too low—though, technically, it’s in the common range of height above the cooktop. I’ve my head on the thing many times, and I can’t see any pots on the rear elements unless I duck—and probably hit my head. I’ll need to replace the backsplash, too, but I’d thought about doing that, anyway, because the builder installed grouted tile, which is hard to get/keep clean.

I should add that I’m aware that there is an ideal height for hoods so that they can work efficiently, but this thing had a very powerful fan motor, so much so that when it’s running I feel like a guy at the airport loading luggage onto a jet—only a slight exaggeration. Actually, when I began talking about this above, I accidentally typed “rage hood”, which is a pretty fair name for it, really.

Mainly, though, the projects will now be all mine. I still have my outdoor work to do, delayed by all the heat and rain. The rain will come and go, but the heat will ease in a few weeks—which also means I’ll be able to open the windows and use all the new screens, and not just the en suite one.

Inside the house it’s mostly about redecorating, but I’m also prioritising decluttering/downsizing. Then I’ll do whatever decorating, organising, etc. that each room needs, including putting in shelving systems in each wardrobe (this will the third house I’ve done that, actually). The garage will be last, and in mid-autumn or so, after the temps are cooler, but before it gets too cold. Then, if the fates allow, my entire house will be done. Finally.

Whatever happens—or doesn’t—I’ll document every part of it. And I thought that getting all those projects I hired people to do had been a long journey…

Obsessions

From time to time, I become obsessed with something or other. I’ve probably always been that way, but it was noticeably different in the Covid lockdown era, but then it morphed again, turning into something different and quite useful. But noticed that change only recently.

I should explain what I mean by “obsession”. I don’t mean that in the way that online influencers use the word to describe their focus on the latest trends in fashion, home decor, food, skincare, whatever. On the other hand, what I’m talking about is about a kind of hyperfocus on things, but mine is about stuff for my personal life and usually it isn’t remotely connected to anything trendy.

That out of the way, what I become obsessed with usually refers to things for projects or to solve some problem or other in my home. Like lamps, for example.

During the first Covid lockdown I became obsessed/hyperfocused/whatever with lamps to put on the nightstands either side of the guest bed. This was odd because during lockdowns I couldn’t have guest, so bedside lamps were irrelevant. I ended up ordering a couple inexpensive ones from a discount chain rather than the ones I actually liked because I wanted to see those in person, which I couldn’t do, obviously.

I think the reason I was so obsessed with lamps was because at that time we were all powerless against a disease that we still had no vaccine against. Maybe it gave me a feeling of some control at a time when we had very little of that.

I still have those lamps, so ordering them wasn’t a terrible decision. However, there was one other purchase born of obsession that was a huge mistake: A garden shed I bought online in February 2021. In the weeks that followed, I eventually realised that it was a mistake. In 2022, I sold it at loss just to be rid of it.

That shed debacle was both a low point and a turning point: Since then, I’ve never ordered something expensive merely because I was obsessed about something. I’ve ordered a few things I ended up regretting, but none of them were the result of an obsession, nor were they expensive.

As time has gone on, there’s been a change. I may become obsessed with something and do hours of research to to find the best option—and then I stop without buying anything. I saw a YouTube video in which the person described that sort of thing as enjoying the shopping without actually spending any money. I think that’s true, but it’s also true that doing all the research can make me realise I don’t want the solution I thought I did, but sometimes I realise I already have a usable solution.

The photo up top shows a grill named after a famour boxer. Nigel and I bought it many years ago, and we’d also had an early version of the grill (which was quite large). We used it mostly for making things like Rueben sandwiches, though we also sometimes used it to grill meat. We used it less often as time went on, and I think I may have used it only once since shifting to Kirikiriroa-Hamilton, though my lack of use was mainly because it was hard to get out of the cupboard (I had to get down on the floor and reach into the back of the cupboard).

I recently became obsessed with buying a sandwich press (this Google search shows examples). It’s a kitchen device for making toasted sandwiches, like Reubens and what Americans call “grilled cheese” (called a “cheese toastie” in New Zealand). I wanted to get one years ago, and Nigel didn’t want me to, though he never said why.

I don’t know why, precisely, I became obsessed with getting a sandwich maker, but I was. And then I remembered the red grill I already had. We used it as sandwich press, so I knew it was suitable for that. Last week, I used it to make ham and cheese toasties (using what the supermarket called "ciabatta pockets" instead of regular bread). At first I used the two ribbed grill plates, but then I remembered there was a smooth one for the top grill and switched to that. I think it worked better for the later sandwiches (like what's pictured).

I’ve also realised that the grill would be the best way for me to make burgers. I have a “grill pan”, which has ridges so the grease can drain. However, there’s often a lot of water added to the raw beef mince (aka “ground beef”), and that means the burger is steamed as much as fried. The grill machine has angled grill plates, which allows the grease (and added water…) to drain out. The thing is, I can’t remember if we ever used it for that, but we may not have because we used to have cheeseburgers and melted the cheese on the burger in the pan, so I may need to experiment a bit.

There have been times that similar things happened, but this particular reuse of something I already have is the most recent. I like that I’m getting use out of stuff I already own even more than that I'm not spending money I don’t need to. That’s what’s changed the most for me—and it's so thrifty, too!

Seriously, though, it really is satisfying to come up with solutions for my home using stuff I already have. Sure, I still sometimes spend a lot of time researching options to buy, and sometimes I still buy things, too. As long as it’s not a garden shed, I’m okay with that.

Side quests

I completed a project today. It wasn’t exactly on my list, though it was at least somewhat related. And overdue. I also completed a chore that was also somewhat related to my current projects.

I’ve been fighting weeds on my property for most of the time I’ve lived in this house. It took them about a year to get started, but once they did, it became a constant battle. In fact, it’s the biggest challenge I face in getting my back yard under control, let alone to make it what I want it to be.

At the moment, the biggest challenge is still clearing the weeds that grew around the edges of the patio, but today I went to the other side of the house where there’s one spot that had the same problem. The photos up top are of a spot right next to the side door that goes from the garage to the spot where the clothesline used to be attached to the fence. Obvious, but left is before, right is after.

Undeneath that mass of (mostly) dead weeds (kikuyu) were three black rubbish bags and an LPG (aka propane) gas tank. Those weeds took around nine months to get to that point. I clear the weeds there once or twice a year, but this time was a bit longer than usual. So, my first step was to spray weed killer on them. A week or so later, I sprayed them again, and they finally started dying.

The thing is, the only reason I thought of spraying them is because the compressor unit for the ducted air conditioning is just along the wall from this spot, and the weeds were starting to grow behind and next to it. I couldn’t get the line trimmer behind the unit, and I don’t use it every week where I can use it. So, I decided to try to kill the weeds instead. Since I was out there spraying, anyway, I sprayed the kikuyu mountain, too.

Actually. , it was the second attempt at spraying that worked. A couple weeks earlier I sprayed an “organic” weedspray. It did nothing. A week or so later, I used the spray again. Still nothing. So, finally, I used stronger weed killer, and also twice, but this time it worked.

The mountain of kikuyu was mostly dead, so it was somewhat easier to remove than it would have been if it was alive, but I still needed to cut it up with secateurs before putting it into a large black sack. Once I cleared all that, I needed to deal with the three black bags that were underneath them.

When I clear weeds anywhere on the property I put them into back rubbish bags to begin to make sure they’re dead, and to let them start to break down. Then, I dump them into my compost bin to finish breajing down. This seems tp work better with kikuyu, which is extremely difficult to compost.

When I empty out the compost bin each summer, I take the oldest black bags and put the contents into the compost bin. And that repeats every year. However, those particular black bags have been there longer. In fact, two of them had weeds I’d pulled out of the bank along the side of the property, something I know because there were chunks of bark mixed in. All of those black rubbish bags are now in one big black sack (it’s the one in front—you don’t need to know that, but including that fact here will hep me remember it later). Because the back back contains weeds that were sprayed, I need to give that stuff some extra time to make sure any residue (and there’s probably not much after all the rain we’ve had…) can finish breaking down.

That LPG bottle is one Nigel and I bought many years ago. In fact, ten years ago it reached the date at which it needed to be tested (at our expense) or taken to the tip (dump) to have it disposed of responisbly (at out expense). But, it still had gas in it we wanted to use up—and, in fact, it still does. The problem is that I’ve never used my barbecue, and I’m not sure I even know how (Nigel always did the BBQing, and the only kind I’ve ever used had charcoal).

The other thing visible is the hose reel thatis once again the hose reel I’ll be using, since the handle broke off the one I’d had on the patio (this one’s handle is aluminium). Which I haven’t needed a hose in awhile, I will be needing a hoose, and, fortunately, I’ve now liberated that hose.

This was a good test run for what I plan to do with the weeds around the patio, sp I now have a plan of action. It’s also possible that some of the weeds in the black rubbish bags came from near the patio.

Once all that was done (it took me maybe an hour or so), I went inside to have some water and to rest and cool down. Then, I went back out and mowed the back lawn, something I also did last week, but I was suprised at how much the lawn itself had gown so much in one week when last week, despite all the rain, it was mainly the weed stalks that had grown. I’m probably the only person who finds that interesting, but that’s not unusual.

Today I completed an outside project and an also an outside chore. Sure, maybe I should’ve worked on the bigger project around the patio instead, but progress is progress, and sometimes that’s really all that matters. Today was one of those times.

Shadow of change

I’m still getting used to the changes already made to my house, but I’m also starting to visualise what further changes I might make. But it’s the “getting used to” part that’s dominant at the moment.

There was so much rain since the patio cover was installed (including on the day of installation) that I couldn’t really tell what it’ll be like sitting under the roof when the sun is shining. The photos above from last Friday show part of the reason I wasn’t clear. The photo at left shows the roof panels clearly cast a shadow on the lawn. However, in the photo at right (special guest appearance by Leo), the shadow isn’t obvious. That day was the first time I noticed that.

And then came this weekend.

On Saturday, and especially Sunday when I was installing the gate lock, I thought to myself, “golly, that sun’s hot” (or similar words…). But, was it really? After all, when I was working on the gate I wasn’t standing under the roof.

Nevertheless, yesterday I researched options for awnings supplied by the company that installed the roof, and I think that it's a no-go. They crank out like an awning (ironic, since at one point I considered installing an awning), and are hooked to the beam running on the outside edge of the roof. They say that it’s best done with two people (first strike against it), and it’s meant to stay out all season long, which was strike two.

Getting people to help with things I can’t do is fine, but I want to be able to do routine things on my own. Having awnings that are “best” extended with two people is kind of deal breaker by itself. In addition, I don’t want shade all the time—especially not on rainy days—so that’s another important negative. The third negative is that I’m sure it’s probably expensive for what it is.

Right now, I think that, first, I should take more time to figure out what it feels like when the summer sun is shining, especially at a time when people (or even just me) might be sitting there. If I think it’s hot, I think a simple shade cloth (some people call them a “shade sail”) would be a better option.

I also noticed during the (many) rainstorms that when the wind blows the rain, hits the patio even though the roof extends over the grass a bit (the left photo above is the area I’m talking about). There are options for that, if I feel I need it, and the company also provides some, but I’m even less certain about any of that.

The truth is, I’m pretty much out of my depth with all this. I’m not a landscape/garden designer (or even much of a garden maintainer, if I’m honest), so I’m thinking again that maybe I should hire the folks who are. This is, after all, a Project!, but that doesn’t mean I’m necessarily going to do it all personally.

Besides, I still have lots of other projects, big and small, so it’s not like I risk running out of things to do. Running out of gumption to do them is another matter, but still—I have choices.

Turns out, though, that I’m still finding out what the exact shape of all these changes will end up being. But, honestly? That kind of makes them more interesting to me. That, at least, is nothing new.

An old project no more—again

Five years ago this month, I wrote: “Sometimes it just takes time to get to a project around the house, let alone finish it.” No kidding: For me, “taking time to get to a project” is an understatement. But even for me a five year delay is a new wrinkle.

In February of 2021, I replaced the bolt locks on the outside of the gates on both sides of the house, and also installed a second one on the inside of one gate, but not the other. At the time I wrote a post (linked above) describing the project and why I did it, and I added this:

So, this project is now, finally, nearly done. I say “nearly” because I have one more padlock latch to install on the other gate, but I dropped in in the garage somewhere and haven’t found it yet. Oops. However, the ordinary latch on the outside was always fine (though much better now that it has a longer bolt), so it’s padlocked on the outside (I never use that gate, anyway).

The following year, in October 2022, I moved the Vegepod onto the patio, and I put it right in front of the gate. I don’t think I used that gate again until the broken air conditioner on the patio was removed this past December. Because of that, I never got around to adding the lock inside on the inside of the gate.

The new patio roof meant I’d need to move the Vegepod (a project not yet done, oddly enough…), and that meant there would no longer be anything in blocking the gate. But first I had to find the missing lock parts.

I somehow remembered that I’d dropped it in the garage, but the main part was on the garage shelves where they both should have been, but the loop part the padlock closes on wasn’t there. I assumed it was on the floor.

I tried searching on the floor, but it wasn’t easy with the garage such a disaster area. I decided to see if I had some sort of replacement. I kind of did, but it wasn’t ideal I then went to one of the home centres that sells more parts and odd things (unlike the other shop), and bought a new loop thing for a couple bucks. Once I got home, I tried it out, and it would work—but it wasn’t the original thing, so it wasn’t effect.

So, at the end of last week I got my telescoping magnet thing and stuck it under the shelves in the garage: The loop thing wasn’t there. Then I saw a bolt latch on the shelves, and noticed some other metal things, so I moved a couple things around and there it was: The missing loop.

Yesterday was the day to finish the project, technically some five years after I started it. It was also really hot out there, but that just added another layer to the experience.

The installation (before and after photos up top) went fine, really, though I forgot that the hinge-like thing moves and that made it hard to get it level; it ended up level enough. The only difficulty was the final screw: I didn’t drill the pilot hole deep enough, and the head of the screw started to strip. So I removed, drilled the pilot hole a bit deeper, but still not deep enough, because the head of the second screw started to strip, too. Third time was the charm—for the last screw.

Now, because it’s been five years, the hinge thing on the five year old one is rusty, as are the screws. NOW I realise I could have painted them to help keep the rust away longer. Maybe someday a new owner can worry about that.

Something I didn’t talk about five years ago is why I added the second lock inside the gate: It’s because the gate latches should never have been put on the outside of the gate because the only thing needed to open the gate is a screwdriver. Adding the second latch inside the gate means it would take an intruder longer to get through the gate, and they’d probably make much more noise—the goal is to slow down and deter miscreants.

However, my major reason isn’t about intruders per se, it’s about stopping someone opening the gate and Leo getting out. Even so, the gates are now both far more secure than the way teh builder left them. I’d like to get one gate widened a bit, and the builder could install the proper latches, and on the inside of the gate. Whether I do it—sorry, I meant have that done for me—or not will depend on what I do with the rest of the back yard, and I’m not there yet.

Still, a project I began five years ago is now done, and that’s a good thing. The only casualties were two screws and my left forearm: Because of where the lock had to go, I had to use the screwdriver in my left hand (my right hand is dominant, but, oddly, I can use a screwdriver with my left hand), and the muscles were sore today. But the jobs is done, so it’s kind of worth that.

Cost of creating

I spent most of my working life in what is said called, somewhat overly grandly, “creative industries”. In my case, it was doing design and layout of ads, newspapers, magazines, and various other printed materials. I’ve owned products by Adobe for years—right up until they stopped selling the software and instead made users subscribe to their “Adobe Creative Cloud”—at fees that keep going up. We had no other choice than to accept that because the software was vital to do our jobs. I’m not sure that’s true any more.

Now that I’m not working anymore, it doesn’t make sense for me to pay nearly $100 (roughly $US60) a month so Adobe will allow me to use the software. To be clear, I DO still use their software: I use Photoshop to prepare all the photos I post to this blog, I use Illustrator to create things like album art for some episodes of my podcast, and I use InDesign for general layout work, including all the labels I made for my pantry reorganisation. I’m really glad I have the software when I meed it, but am I nearly $100 a month glad?

Last year, I started researching alternatives to Adobe. At the time, Affinity was highly rated and cost less to buy permanently than paying for only three months of Adobe’s Creative Cloud. Last year, Affinity’s publisher was aquired by Canva, an Australian-own software company whose site, Canva, is used by people to creat visual assets, like title cards for YouTube videos. Affinity is now “freemium”, but a paid subsription is needed to access AI features (Adobe also offers AI features).

Today I got an email from Apple about their new subscription service, Creator Studio. Some of the programmes are more powerful versions of their free software, like Final Cut Pro to replace iMovie, and Logic Pro to replace Garage Band, but everything seems to have added other things under the paid model, including—surprise!—AI features. Apple also promises to protect users’ privacy.

The various parts of the “suite” can also be purchased separately, basically like all software used to be. As is often the case with Apple, subscription pricing is—interesting. Here in New Zealand, users can pay $24.99 per month ($US15.08), or $249 annually ($US150.30), which is like getting two months for free. This is a fraction of what Adobe charges, but that assumes the Suite is comparable. However: In the USA, Apple charges users US$12.99 (NZ$21.52) per month, or US$129 ($NZ213.72) per year. As usual, in other words, Apple charges overseas users more than it charges users in the USA for something entirely digital.

At the moment, I don’t have a solution to entirely replace the Adobe software I’ve depended on for decades. Rightnow, I think it may turn out that “good enough” will have to be enough. I hjave a lot more research to do. All of which means this is yet another project for this year.

The weather gods cooperated

I don’t want to alarm anyone, but today there was a bright light outside all day. It seemed to be coming from a bright disc in the sky—so bright, in fact, that I couldn’t even look at it! Also, the clouds broke apart revealing a pale blue colour behind them. Am I on a television film set, like in The Truman Show? Or was it the end of the world?

Well, just in case it wasn’t the end of the world, I mowed the back lawn today, something I haven’t been able to do since January 9—two and a half weeks ago—due to all that rain we’ve had. It looked pretty bad, but it was mostly because of the long weed flower stalks.

I also trimmed all the edges (!), though the fates didn’t want me to. The line in the trimmer ran out after only a few minutes (not a surprise—I was expecting that), but then the battery gave out much earlier than expected (it wasn’t at 100% charge when I started, but I thought there was more power…). I swapped the battery and continued on—and the line ran out again! It may have broken off in the bump head, but by then I was over it, put the trimmer away, and brought out the mower.

The mowing went without incident, however, there were two medium sized birds (I have no idea what they were) that kept landing on the lawn where I’d just mowed (looking for disturbed bugs, probably). They flew away when I started walking toward them again, landed when I’d turned around and was mowing away from them, all of which was repeated several times. I’ve never had that happen before.

When I was doing the last bit of lawn, I mowed close to the fence to chop up the weeds the line trimmer sliced off, and I noticed a tiny green frog trying to get away, moving toward the fence. It was the third time I’ve seen one, but it’s been a few years.

I then came in and drank some cool water, which helped cool me down. It was 26 today (roughly 79F), which is the warmest day my neighbourhood has had for a couple weeks, I think, and it had pretty high humidity. I did a few ordinary chores before dinner.

After dinner, I decided to go back outside because the temperature was lower—though the humidity was not. I started chopping at some of the weeds I hadn’t been able to get to before, swept up after myself, and then repotted a couple plants. And that was my day, the first one I’ve been able to get outside things done in a couple weeks.

I have some errands to do tomorrow afternoon, so I hope to get a few things done in the morning. But my main event will be to pick up stones for making the new Vegepod parking spot. And once I get that done, I’ll have cleared enough space on the patio to start working out what I want to do with the space.

Today, though, was a productive day. It apparently wasn’t the end of the world, fortunately. But whether today took place in a version of The Truman Show remains unknown.

It’s now my roof

Today I received the final invoice for my patio cover. I have no idea why it took them nearly a week to send the invoice, but I paid it today, too, because the due date was also today (as it was with the other two invoices, so it’s no big deal). At any rate, I now officially own it.

It’s rained, often heavily, though not constantly, pretty much every day for at least couple weeks. Because some of the dowpours were really bad, I didn’t want to start any outside work, even under the roof, because I knew I might have to stop suddenly.

It turns out, though, that the same weather that kept me from doing much outside also showed me that when I set up the patio I’ll have to keep things away from the edges, because—surprise!—rain doesn’t fall straight down. I know they make shades of very kinds, so they might also provide the clear vinyl ones like cafes use. Maybe? I think I’ll try managing the arrangement first.

The weather will be improving from tomorrow, with a sunny afternoon and then two days in a row (!) of sunshine, then a weekend with two days of mostly sunny weather before the rain returns on Monday. Put another way, I should be able to get some outside stuff done over the next few days—fingers crossed?

Still, the new patio roof is now officially mine, and so is all the work I need to do to be able to actually use it. With great privilege comes great responsibility, they say. At least I should sleep well for several days.