Vale, Dad

Red Kennedy, my father, died this morning.

It is too hard to sort out feelings and thoughts right now, but I will miss him very much.

He was a great father. I am old enough and have heard the stories of so many other people to know how blessed I was to have such loving, supportive parents as my Mom and Dad.

And he was a surprising man, as well. Many who knew him would be unaware that he loved writing poetry. Given the time of year, I thought it might be nice to run one of his poems here.

Rest in peace, Dad.

Waiting for Spring

By John "Red" Kennedy

I am hopefully waiting for spring to appear
To wash away all the winter fears
Of slippery roads and piles of snow
And give the flowers a chance to grow

They are sticking their heads out ever so slight
But the frost comes back most every night
I know they will win out in the end
And their lovely blossoms on stems will bend

The vegetable gardens are in men's thoughts
They will have to wait awhile to prepare their plots
The sprouting and growth will surely come
As His labor of love has just begun

Fishing season seems to fit in here
With a reel and a rod and a couple of beers
They roam the streams all about
Hoping to catch that elusive trout

The hay in the meadows is starting to grow
And come July the first cutting they'll mow
But for now the sugaring season is here
Their yield will be short and sweet I fear

Baseball has started, so it must be spring
As the bat on the ball has the familiar ping
The roads are full of potholes and bumps
When you drive over them, they give you a thump

And in conclusion I would like to say
Spring is not always this way

Joe's Gone

We haven't seen Joe for five days now, not since he put the finishing touches on the bathroom he renovated for us. Our lives seem a little empty without him. After all, he was here nearly every day for seven weeks and we grew quite fond of him.

Oh sure, I always knew this was just a summer thing that would end some day when Joe went on to other projects. And to be honest there is a limit to how many times in our lives we want our tiles laid or need a good grouting.

Rob the painter is here now, but it's definitely not the same. This is three or four days of slap and roll and then he too will stop coming around. And then there will be only one tradesman left, the guy who will put in the carpets.

But with only the bedroom and closet, there's no question it will be a quick lay and see-you-later on the way out the door.

Such is life with tradesmen in reno land - the center of your world for a while, then never to be seen again. But at least we have lovely memories of our times together:

The shower is great - but it's tough seeing much with the window reflecting on the glass panel

The room may never look so neat and tidy again, so enjoy

Not sure why they call it a vanity, but there you go

A throne fit for a king

Bath and Beyond

What a hot weekend! Yesterday the temperature rose to 39C -  that's more than 102F for the folks in America.  Today we're going back up to 37 (99F). And the best news - we've been getting nice breezes off the water and even though it's very warm, it's not humid and definitely not unpleasant. Very best news - it is very comfortable sleeping.

The house doesn't have air conditioning, and it's pretty obvious that we would never need it after yesterday's near-record temps.

What the house does have, however, is a nearly-new guest bathroom. This was not on the cards. Or to be accurate, was not on my cards. I am not 100% sure about my beloved's cards.

Perhaps the best way to explain what has happened is to just list the thinking without elaborating:

1. LK points out that the shower cubicle in the guest bathroom definitely needs replacement. Since we have the cast and crew of Australia's Slowest Home Renovation in for the month doing the bathroom off the main bedroom, let's have them do that at the same time.

2. DK suggests that if they're going to do that, we may as well get a larger shower cubicle so XXL people can turn around.

3. LK agrees and adds that it is very economical to do the guest bathroom this way because we won't need to change the vanity or tile the floor or do any work with the plumbing.

4. We have a new vanity. They are tiling the floor. The plumber was in yesterday.

As you might guess, there were a few steps in between, but I doubt that anyone who knows us is surprised by the end result.

I am certainly not surprised.  Because we had exchanged toilets for the master bath, we had ended up with a $19 credit at the plumbing supply store. I knew at that moment that this would burn a hole in LK's psyche until she had to spend it. And I knew there aren't a lot of things at Mornington Plumbtec that cost only $19.

Anyhow, the guys were sweating away yesterday, working all Saturday to move things ahead. The master bath is 95% there now that the shower panel has been installed and the mirror mounted over the vanity. Only a few things like towel rings and toilet paper holders left to install.

The guest bathroom floor is 80% tiled. The shower walls and the backsplashes for the tub and (new) vanity need to be done, and then the glass for the cubicle installed. Then we bring in the painters and the carpet guys. 

It should happen fairly quickly. No, let me be precise. It could happen fairly quickly. But at the pace of this work so far I wouldn't be surprised if our hot late summer days are a distant memory and we're wearing wool and turning the heat up by the time it's done.

Little Room

There's a world
Where I can go
And tell my secrets to
In my room
In my room

The Beachboys, "In My Room"


We have spent the past month fixing up the most important room in the house. My favorite room. The very private room dedicated to getting naked, getting wet and taking care of bodily functions. The bathroom.

We have not used the bathroom off our bedroom since we moved in. It had no shower, only a spa tub, and we are not tub people. (Yes, I know I am a tubby person, but there's a difference.) In fact, when we sold our Sydney house we had lived in it for 9 years and never once even turned the tap on in the bathtub much less sit and soak.

Once we moved here, I made a comment which, in hindsight, may have been a mistake. I said how nice it would be to get rid of the spa tub and put in a walk-in shower,

Replacing a tub with a shower sounds simple but it's the first step on that slippery slope known as renovation.  Can't remove the tub and put in a shower without tiling. Might as well tile the whole room once we start. Since we're doing the floor, this is also the perfect time to put in under-floor heating. And we certainly don't want an old vanity with new tiles. Ditto the mirrors. And just how out of place is that old toilet going to look with all this new stuff? Oh, and since we have tilers and plumbers in, shouldn't we at least replace that grotty old shower in the guest bathroom? And it's only a tad more to get new taps for the vanity and bath there to match the new shower. But don't worry. We will save money because we won't get a new vanity there.

Those, needless to say, are not all my thoughts, but rather a pretty good approximation of the logical conclusions of Project Manager Linda. With her leadership and management, we are now almost through the renovation of the master bathroom. All that needs to be done is installing the screen to the walk-in shower, hanging the mirror, putting up the bits like towel hooks and toilet roll holder, and painting the bit of wall at the top that isn't being tiled.

To be very fair, I have contributed a few ideas, most having to do with comfort and ensuring a large human can easily move around the room. Project Manager Linda has done the rest, and successfully reprised a technique she used during the kitchen renovation.

Working without a budget, she declares to me, to tradesmen, to just about anyone who will listen, that she doesn't want a $20,000 bathroom. That is a statement with which I can very easily (very, very, very easily) agree. Some time during the project, though, the success and reasonableness of the final project gets equated to that statement. If the room is beautiful and if it didn't cost $20,000, it is a success. And when, as in this case, we don't come remotely close to spending $20,000, then it is a roaring success.

As it is.

The trouble right now is that this project isn't quite done and has been dragging on well past when it should. Originally we were set to have the work done in October when we returned from the US, but Joe the Tiler had not reserved the  time for us as we asked. Then it was going to start right after the New Year but Joe had a family medical problem.

And I am not even going to mention chasing down the tiles we had paid for when the company went bankrupt. OK, I've mentioned it, but I don't want to relive it.

It finally started on January 24, but Joe was backed up so badly with his projects that he has been spending only part-time here. Completion had been promised by February 10. We think it may be this week.

Anyhow, once Joe leaves, we're getting the painters in and laying carpet in the bedroom, hanging the drapes and calling 5/7th of the house done. Or 5/8th if you count the extension we are thinking about. But now is not the time to have that discussion.

I uploaded pictures of the shower installation's progress here.  Having documented the stand-up part of the room I will upload the sit-down side of the room tomorrow. Completed pictures by the June  solstice. (A joke. I hope.) And we will be able to go to the US then with the change left over from our not-a-$20K bathroom.

Waist Management

We've been on this diet a month now. It's pretty much the South Beach with a few tweaks here and there. The first two weeks are the toughest - no booze, no starch, no fruit, no sugar, almost no carbs and almost no fats. Of course you lose weight fast, but the creator of the diet knows that you don't get fat because you have great will power so he moves you onto Phase 2.

It seems like a mini-Christmas. You can add in a starch, a fruit, a couple of glasses of wine. It's still small portions, of course. LK and I almost drooled as we toasted a single piece of spelt bread for our afternoon snack. I even surprised myself by discovering that I craved fresh fruit more than old wine. So I had a small apple one day, counted out my allowance of 12 cherries the next and went into dieter heaven with four apricots the day after that.

All of which is odd because I ate almost no fresh fruit before the diet.

The wine allowance is vague - and I am delighted it is. "You can even enjoy one or two glasses of wine with your dinner" is the wording. Now you may not consider that vague, but I believe I am remaining well within the limits of the diet if I use large water tumblers instead of those skimpy little wine glasses. After all, they don't say you can't.

The second phase, of course, slows down the rate of weight loss. After losing a quick 10 pounds in the first two weeks, I've now lost 4 pounds in the next two.  (By the way, I am truly bi-measured and can think in pounds or kilos. But there was never any question that pounds was the measurement of choice for my diet. Can you even compare the psychology of "I've lost more than 2 pounds" to "I've lost 1 kilo"? I don't think so. And if our scales measured in ounces, I would probably move to them.)

The slower weight loss in Phase 2 makes sense and must be healthier, of course, but with my size and target weight, it also means I am likely to be on this phase for another year or more. Which is where my bride enters the picture.

Linda started us down this course of weight loss with the stated desire of keeping me around longer. Had she really thought that through, I am not sure she would have been so committed to the program, but nonetheless it is her efforts that are making this work.

Like a contestant on one of those cooking competition shows, she has set about trying to use the allowable mix of foods to make meals that taste great, are varied and don't rely on large mounds of lettuce and veggies to fill you up.

And for four weeks, we have had dinners that make me forget we are watching our waistlines. Last night we had three lovely lamb cutlets with a salad of broadbeans, mint and quinoa. After hearing so much about it, last year was the first time LK used quinoa, the grain that seems to me like a stepchild of rice and couscous, and she was excited to see it on the list of starchy foods that could be added back to the diet on Phase 2.

Perhaps in her excitement, she overdid it last night with a whopping huge serve of the salad. You know you've locked into the dieter's mentality when you're eating grains and beans and the cook apologizes that tonight is a bit of a carb overload.

Which, it turned out, was OK. I still lost 16 ounces yesterday. More quinoa, LK!

By Sea and By Land

We still have more than a third of summer left, but celebrating Australia Day always makes it seem as if we're nearing its end. The kids here in Tassie still have a couple of weeks left of their summer holidays, but just about everyone except teachers is back at work with only memories of holidays for this year.

So, before we move any further from the sun, I want to catch you up on a few things from the past month.

The tall-masted leaders approaching the Iron Pot lighthouse

First, we had a fantastic day on December 28. It's the first time we've been here then, and from our back deck we had a great view of the Sydney-to-Hobart yacht race. (Although I believe that there is significant reason to rename it the Hobart-from-Sydney race. We certainly call it that already.)

The flotilla welcomes the leader passing Kingston Beach

It was a pretty summer's afternoon when the first two yachts came into view. LK had made mojitos as we transformed the back deck into our very own corporate hospitality box.

It was the closest result in the race in decades, and it was quite special seeing these two huge sets of sails loom out of the ocean haze and approach the Iron Pot on their way past our place down the Derwent River to the finish line in Hobart.


I remember my Dad once commenting that yacht racing was about as exciting as watching grass grow. To non-sailors like me, that is undoubtedly true. But on a beautiful summer afternoon, it was fun watching a couple of those massive sails looming hugely over the dozens of smaller boats that came out to welcome them to our city at the end of their 2 1/2 day race. Of course, the mojitos didn't hurt the ambience.

The rest of January has been much more focused on land than sea, as we tended to our garden. What looked easy at the beginning, needless to say, is not quite the cup of tea it seemed. We lost all of our peas to pea blight (which is just about as bad as it sounds) and several of the tomatoes went down to fungus. The good news there is that still leaves us with about 25 tomato plants.

The veggies do seem to grow well here, and if we were growing them for their leaves we would be deilghted with the results. Unfortunately the bits we do want to eat are coming along but more slowly than we hoped - even adjusting for the climate. But with sunny warm weather forecast for this week, we remain optimistic gardeners.

Mind you,  we have eaten a little bit of our efforts. I think the radishes are averaging $85 a bunch and the one zucchini I did cook wouldn't have cost us more than $30 to grow. On the other hand, the beans are coming along niceley and were very tasty with dinner the other night. The carrots, beets and parsnips look quite promising. The cantaloupe (rock melon here in Oz) looked like it was growing brilliantly until we realized yesterday that what we were nurturing was a weed and the melon was dead. (This is, after all, a learning year!)

I have such great memories of the garden my grandfather had in Rutland. And every summer my Uncle Bob and cousin Jerome pop round to my folks with enough stuff from their gardens to start a farmers market. So I know there's some farmer genes somewhere in my makeup. Now if I can only figure out how to make them come to the fore.

It's not quite a cornucopia yet, but the garden is definitely coming in:

Yellow and green beans, oddly round zucchini, the first little squash, weird purple carrot, strawberries,a very late spring onion and a very badly shaped RolyPoly carrot that is supposed to be round

Mrs K Meets Some of the 99 Percent

Welcome to 4Q's new year. Sure, it's late in the month to be posting for the first time in 2012, but with personal batteries recharged and a refreshed look for the blog, it is back for a new season.

I knew it was time to get back to posting for a couple of reasons. One, it seemed like every other phone converation LK has had recently has included comments like "I know, and I'm disappointed too, but he just doesn't seem to want to do it any more."

I am pretty sure she was talking about this blog, but actually her comments were not all that compelling a reason to re-start. Survival in retirement years requires - at a minimum - the ability to not pay attention to whatever critiques your spouse is making. And that's if they're talking directly to you. If you can't ignore it when they're talking to someone else, you may as well go get a job flipping burgers at McDonald's because life around the house will be just plain miserable.

No, the real reason I knew it was time to post again was that the other day we went through an experience and all I could do was think about how I wanted everyone to know what had happened.

And this is what happened.

With Jason and Laura moving down here in a couple of weeks, we've been doing house-hunting for them, checking out rental properties in the area. LK has been a woman on a mission, spending hour after hour checking out the ads for rentals, scheduling viewings and scoping out the prospects. In recent days she has been the Communications Center for the project, this week spending more time on the phone with Jay and Laura than she probably has in the past five years.

Her reports are pretty predictable: "It's small but in good shape, you should apply"; or, "Don't bother, it's run-down and it doesn't look like the landlord bothers to keep it up", etc, etc. We have walked into very attractive places with views of the water and very unattractive places with clutter everywhere and a dwarf trying to stop his dog from jumping on us. (Really.) The latter, by the way, elicited the report: "It's not bad, but I wouldn't apply. It's the vibe." Apparently clutter, jumping dogs and small people make for bad vibes even though, presumably, they won't be around once new tenants move in.

But the icing on the cake happened Tuesday. We arrived at a property to be viewed a few minutes early and parked near the house. While the five or six houses on the cul-de-sac were in fairly good condition,  I couldn't help notice that the lawn next door hadn't been mowed in a long, long time, most likely not yet this year.

That's not a good sign for the neighborhood, I said to LK who - ever the optimist - said it was hardly anything to worry about. As we sat there, I looked in my rearview mirror and saw a very large child sitting on a neighboring porch. The kid was quite a bit overweight and several years over age to be sucking away on a pacifier (dummy, to my Aussie friends). Then I started to notice the little things - a rusting, abandoned washing machine by a back door, a few engine parts in a yard. I was sure I could faintly hear banjo music playing nearby - da da da dang dang - and was getting ready to practice squealing like a pig.

The agent arrived in time to distract us from the neighboring houses. LK and she went into the house as I re-parked the car. It would have only been four or five minutes before I walked into the house, but before I got to check it out (well, other than the mattress leaning against the wall in the entrance foyer) LK came bustling out of the living room.

Her eyes were a little bigger than normal, her lips pursed a little tighter. "No, no, no, no, " she whispered to me. I thought she meant the house wasn't right for the kids, but she meant she didn't want me to come into the house and she wanted to get out, Which we did.

Apparently, after she saw the kitchen and living room, the idea of examining the bathroom and bedrooms sent her into panic mode and she was in full retreat. As we walked down the driveway, the duelling banjoes were getting louder and louder.

The agent told Linda that the house would be cleaned, of course, and LK replied that it really needed blowtorching. She later told me that even if they cleaned it, she could never go back there because she had seen what it was like now. Skeeve City was the term she used, I believe.

We saw one other house that afternoon, but LK was by then in no mood for anything but wonderful. She noted the very worn carpet, the damage to the wall and the agent's attitude that it wasn't that big a deal. LK left without looking at the bedrooms. She was so distracted, in fact, that she hadn't even noticed that the current tenant had taken a black marker and written profanities and racist comments all over the refrigerator, next to his collection of 20 or more empty bouron bottles.  I waited until we had driven away to let her know about the fridge graffiti.

So we ended our househunting Tuesday learning a couple of lessons. First, our alcohol-free lifestyle experiment was officially over after 14 days and ending as soon as we got in the house.

And second, when it comes to bad vibes,  we now know that clutter,  a dwarf and a jumping dog are not  anywhere near as bad as they seem at first.

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And as a postscript, today is a national holiday here (not that this is very important once you're not working.) Happy Australia Day to all our Aussie mates and family.