Losing your licence to drive because

you are no longer fit to drive is not something that happens often. It should almost certainly happen more often than it does.

Someone I know has just lost her licence. She is eighty-two and was asked to undergo a practical test. That has just happened. She failed the test. 

I knew about this in advance. I also thought she would fail the test. It is very likely she should have ceased driving several years ago. She has had several "accidents" which were clearly related to her abilities - or lack thereof.

Naturally this has upset her a great deal. It is more serious for her than it is for many people because she also has a serious mobility disability. She lives alone and lives some distance from most of the services she needs to access. Even before the loss of her licence someone else was taking her to do her shopping.  Now she will need to make more arrangements and use taxis more often. She will get half price fares for now.

I am both relieved she is no longer driving but concerned because it will isolate her even more.  Although she has staff from a nearby nursing home coming in each day to check she does not seem to have any friends. Her days are spent "gardening", doing jigsaw puzzles and knitting while listening to radio or watching television. She lives too far from me for me to visit. I tried to work out possible ways of getting to her using public transport but the journey is just not realistic. We talk on the phone quite frequently...at least, she talks and I listen.

Each time the driving issue came up for her in the last few years I have thought of the Senior Cat. I will be forever grateful he had the courage to make the decision to hand in his licence when he did. He was not a "good" driver but he was no better or worse than the vast majority of people who get behind the wheel of a car. He did not enjoy driving. It was simply convenient. He switched to his "mini-car" - his gopher. It allowed him to go to church, to the doctor, the library and the shopping centre. Middle Cat and friends and taxis did the rest. 

The problem for the person who has just lost her licence is that she has none of those things. She could still ride a gopher. There is one in the house which belonged to her husband. It has not been used for some years. The battery would need to be replaced and the rest of it checked over but there is no reason to believe it could not be used. I have suggested doing it but nothing has been done. It is like getting a mobile phone. She started that process but has not completed it. There is a computer in the house that has not been used for a decade and is probably not able to be used now. Other things need to be dealt with but she procrastinates. Well all procrastinate perhaps but her procrastination is chronic.

Her BIL, the only "family" she is in touch with, tells me her place is much untidier than the way the Senior Cat and I lived...and we were not "tidy" people. I am not a tidy person but I do like cleanliness and things do eventually get put away.  Her place is littered with things and I suspect the effort of putting them away is just too great.

I also think she is depressed although I doubt she realises it. The lack of a licence is not going to help that.  

She likes to read. The next time I speak to her I might mention the library service which delivers books on a regular basis...and I must make the effort to phone her more often.   

   

No it is not "stolen"

but try to explain the "stolen" idea to a ten year old. 

I had one of those disturbing conversations with a ten year old yesterday. He has been well, too well, taught about "stolen" land at school. He has been taught the land we now live in and on, that we were both in and on, was "stolen" from aboriginal people "back in 1832". 

That he could do absolutely nothing about this was completely beside the point. He was supposed to feel guilty about it. He had no control at all about what his ancestors did but it was "wrong" and he is the one who has to feel "sorry".

We actually have a "Sorry Day". It comes around every year and, unless you are aboriginal, you are expected to apologise for those past wrongs all over again. "It's a big thing at school," my young informant told me.

It should not be but I know it is. I listened as he went on to tell me about the "very special belonging they have to all the land and everything". He has been thoroughly indoctrinated about these things and many people will believe it is a very good thing. 

He has not been allowed to question. The idea that there might even be any questions about these "facts" had not even occurred to him.

The "connection to country" is something which is often talked about in relation to aboriginal cultures in this country. It is given special consideration when planning issues come up, when sentencing is being done, when hurt and harm are being considered. Activists like to mention it frequently.

There were more than two hundred and fifty languages once spoken by indigenous people and I wonder if there was a word for any of them that describes that connection between the land, particular places within it and their ancestry. I tried finding a word in the language of the plains people on which this city is built. The closest I could come up with was "yerta". That word seems to mean "country" but it does not seem to cover any sort of emotional attachment. That seems to be a much wider issue, one for which there is no specific word. 

I do not doubt the idea exists now but did it exist when the first white settlers arrived? Did the indigenous population of that time actually think in those terms? Of course they had a connection with the land. Their very survival depended on it. It was a practical connection, not a philosophical one. It was essential to the way they explained the world around them and the dangers they faced. And yes, they were capable of an emotional connection because of the physical connection.

The problem seems to be that the idea of belonging, if that is what it is, is now being described in words and ideas belonging to another culture entirely. It is useful to be able to describe it in these terms because it can be used as a grievance tool, a claim of theft. Doing it this way actually takes even more. It does not allow any connection to be felt free of all the negativity and claims of harm.

There is a similar idea about connection to country in Scots Gaelic. "Duthchas" can, I think, be translated as the connection between a place, the land around it and your ancestry. I cannot think of a similar equivalent in English but it is part of my Scots ancestry. It is an idea of "attachment". It could also be one of "grievance" for those who lost their land during the infamous clearances. Demands for "reparations" or "compensation" or apologies from present day inhabitants would get nowhere.

They do things differently here. I wonder what the ten year old would make of duthchas. 

 

Why is good food so expensive?

Our local shopping centre has been running one of the "school holiday programs" designed to pull people in and get them to spend money.  They cost a lot to run of course but the centre management must think it is worthwhile and that all those running a business there will benefit...and therefore contribute to the cost.

There has been the usual "face painting", some messy sort of craft (definitely fun), balloons being tied into various shapes (and bursting of course) and a "tiny town" with big cardboard structures I would have loved playing with as a kitten. There was also a wheel of some sort where you could spin it and "win" a prize of some sort. 

The prizes seem to have been small packets of crisps or similar sorts of food. One of the local grandmothers spoke to me as I was passing and asked with a sigh, "Why is good food so expensive? They could have been handing out pieces of fruit but I suppose the cost was too much."

Yes, she was almost certainly correct. It was likely cheaper to hand a child a small packet of highly processed, salty something or other with little or no food value than offer them an apple grown in the hills behind us...and they are more likely to eat the contents of the packet.

It is of course the same story inside any supermarket. The white "own brand" bread kept fresh with a lot of preservatives is just over half the price of the "speciality" less processed loaves. Soft drinks are cheaper than milk. In the meat area the sausages (with goodness' knows what in them) are cheaper than a chop but all the meat is more expensive than buying a ready made "pizza". 

Right now, in the middle of our winter, the locally grown fruit is mostly apples, oranges and mandarins. They may be local but they are not cheap. We can still get bananas all year round and, now, it seems strawberries and even raspberries. The cost is enormous and the quality is not as good as the "in season" fruit. 

There was a glut of cauliflower recently. I heard people complaining. The problem seemed to be that many people had no idea what to do with "so much" cauliflower. Aubergine? Most people just continue on to the next vegetable? Leeks appear only in tinned soup with less than three stars on the label but it is much cheaper to buy than even just one leek. Peas and beans are in the freezer section with the mix filled out with lots of relatively cheap and filling sweetcorn.

As a person living alone I do not need five kilo bags of potatoes but I wonder why someone shopping for four teenage boys ignores those in favour of a kilo of frozen "chips". The cost for the former was just a little more but would have ended up less per meal. 

The man who runs our greengrocery was looking carefully at a box of something the other day. "It will have to do but let customers know that we aren't happy with it. It's just the best we can get."  

Opposite the greengrocery there is a "fish shop". It is such a far cry from the way my paternal grandfather bought the Friday fish that I barely recognise it. We might not have been Catholics but we ate fish on Fridays. Grandpa would buy it direct from whichever boat had brought in something they thought worthy of selling to a man who knew a good meal when he saw one.  The price of fish is far beyond the budget of most families.

I will go and buy milk today. The cost of milk has increased dramatically recently but the dairy farmer is getting less. I am aware of how hard they work even now that "it's all computerised" and the computer tells them just how much to feed the cow and how much milk the individual cow has produced. It is still cheaper to buy artificially flavoured carbonated water which is loaded with sugar that someone had to produce in a factory and involves even more production. Why is milk more expensive? 

I am grateful I can still afford to eat but it would be good to know that the good stuff is at least just as cheap as everything else. 

  

There is an overflowing letterbox

in the bank of letterboxes belonging to the group of units I live in. The tenant for that unit is currently absent and nobody is clearing it.

Yesterday a parcel delivery person told me it needed to be cleared. Nothing else can go into it. No, he did not have a parcel to deliver but something had apparently fallen out and he was trying to do the right thing and put it back in. He saw me and asked me to clear it.

I cannot do that. It is not legal to empty someone else's mail box, even if you know the person is not there. You need authority to do it. I do not even know the tenant's name. I do not know where she currently is or why she is absent.  

I left an email for the "management" person who is supposed to be responsible for problems. There was an automated response.He is on sick leave. I have now left a message for the long-suffering person who is the "chair" of the resident's association. No doubt she will respond in due course. I am hoping she knows who the owner is and they can deal with the problem their tenant is causing.

Yes, it is a problem. It informs the world that nobody is there at that unit. Those with "intentions" will be "interested". They need to go past all the other units to get to that unit. The mail needs to be collected and dealt with anyway. Obviously the tenant does not have a computer or access one anywhere else. There is far too much mail for that.

That it is a problem at all interests me. According to the local "postie" the other residents get very little actual mail. Most of my mail goes to the post office box associated with my work. That makes sense to me. It is secure. I can access that box at any time. Like most people I know I get much less actual mine than I once did. I am, reluctantly, forced to use email for many things. There are companies which, wrongly, refuse to deal with matters any other way. I say "wrongly" because they assume that everyone has access to a computer and is able to use it with confidence. I know this not to be true. The argument that "anyone can use a computer at the library" is not the answer to everything.

There was a long ago time when the postman (never a woman) would deliver twice a day from Monday to Friday and once on Saturdays. They would blow a whistle if they dropped mail into your letter box. Most people had mail several times a week. There were the dreaded "window" envelopes with the bills and the letters with copperplate addressing from "aunty" so-and-so, birthday cards and Christmas cards, invitations and newsletters. I know that being sent outside by a grandparent to "see what the postman left" and bring it in was something you could do from the time you could reach and empty the box.  Posting letters was fun too.

Most of that has stopped now. I doubt childhood is as much fun in many ways. Too much happens on a screen.  

 

Bullying in sport?

Anyone who knows me well knows I am not interested in sport. I did not grow up in a family which suffered from "footy fever" or which went through agonies over a missed catch. The Senior Cat, Brother Cat and I spent our Saturdays doing other things.  We did not go along and cheer or boo from the sidelines.

Mum tried in a half hearted sort of way because she thought playing sport was a healthy activity. It was one of the "agree to disagree" areas of her married life. Had she been a little more determined it might have led to conflict but it might have thrown a spotlight on my complete inability to participate in competitive sport. That was something she wished to avoid. She was also aware that the Senior Cat could not see the various balls coming towards him and that throwing a ball he did manage to catch was likely to result in a dislocated shoulder. These were things even thinking about were best avoided.

Middle Cat and the Black Cat were those who did as I suspect she secretly wished. They played netball and basketball at first. Middle Cat went on to play just about every ball game available, two at "state" level. 

It is those earlier games I am now wondering about, those played by Middle and Black Cat when they were still in the very junior teams. Who refereed them? How seriously were they taken?

From memory adults refereed them. They were played on a "it would be nice to win but the world won't end if we don't" basis. All this took place out in rural areas. Getting on with your more distant neighbours was just as important as getting on with you immediate neighbours. There was a vague awareness some children were much better (and much keener) than others but sport was not an all consuming pastime. There were plenty of other things to keep you occupied. 

Apparently it is very different now. My witterings yesterday caused someone to inform me about how important sport was, how important it was to "win", how much time and money it cost. The person who informed me was apparently aware of the article in this morning's paper saying there is a red card system to prevent onlookers from being abusive at basketball games. Apparently winning is now so important parents are abusing the often very young referees. Those young referees are in training but this does not matter. Winning is what matters.

I am reminded too of an incident in the supermarket. It was years ago now but everyone must have heard the father shouting at his son. The father was shouting he did not care if his child wanted to play football or not. He, the father, wanted him to play - and not just play but win. That, he told his child, was all that mattered. Even now I wonder what happened to the child. He would now be an adult. It was bullying but happened so long ago nobody would have intervened. Now I also wonder how many other parents bully their children into competitive sport without the child being aware of it. How many children are told they will be rewarded for winning but get cold disapproval when they lose?  Are parents even aware they are behaving this way? When did winning become more important than playing for pleasure? Is this worse than giving every child who participates a prize? 

There seem to be mixed messages here. I am confused.  Isn't losing as much a part of life as winning? I lost out a lot as a child. I suspect most of us did. We are still here.   

Bullying is not

acceptable at any time and it does not matter whether the person is a child or an adult.

I was sent an email yesterday. "Is this okay?" I was asked. The person sending it was forwarding yet another email, one they had received.

That email contained details of an "annual general meeting". It is for a group of "units" (condominiums to Americans). Under the law people are required to attend it, send a proxy or somehow participate. It is not something which, like many other "AGMs" can be ignored.

Some groups of units have an external management company handling many matters. Meetings are generally held at those headquarters and at their convenience. Small groups do not always have any external management. They can manage their own affairs provided the relevant legislation is being abided by.  Meetings for such groups, perhaps a group of three to around seven units will usually be held in the unit belonging to one of the residents.

And that is where the problems for this group of units has suddenly become even more serious. It is a small group. It has been well maintained and there should not be any problems but there are. One owner is not an occupier. The unit is rented and the owner clearly sees it as an investment. That is fair enough but the owner is not making life easy for the other three owners. 

They have taken on the role of "presiding officer/secretary" for the group. It is not a popular job with most people but they were keen to take it. An attempt to have a management company handle the affairs of the four owners failed because this person made so many demands of the company they refused to continue working with them.

What they do not seem to want to accept is that it is does not give them the right to do as they wish or bully others into doing their bidding. They have tried to demand access to the unit belonging to another owner on the grounds they are "permitted" to check on what is there and the condition it is in. There is no such right under the law. It has to be by invitation or an actual emergency. They have objected to a legal, council approved addition which was there before they bought their unit. They have objected to a legal fence between two of the units even though the fence is not on common property. It is not even visible from the unit they own or any neighbouring property. 

They have clearly decided to take matters further. The email informed the other three residents of when the AGM would be held. It would not be held at the units. It is proposed to hold it in a board room belonging to a legal firm which specialises in issues around groups of units. The email mentions the cost charged per hour.  Yes, it is a steep cost. All this has been done without consulting all the other owners. 

A query has been made. Yes, the law firm will have someone present as "an observer". The observer only has the right to speak if the presiding officer allows this to happen. The presiding officer also has the power to prevent other observers attending the meeting. They cannot prevent a proxy from attending but using a proxy raises other issues. 

The email also states "offensive, disruptive and disrespectful behaviour will not be tolerated". I doubt that came from any lawyer but it is there and the intention is clear. 

There is more of course. The relatively new and very quiet owner of one unit is feeling understandably frightened, especially as her command of English (while generally excellent for everyday purposes) does not extend to a quick understanding of legal terms and applications. 

I do not have to deal with this situation and I am for that I am thankful. My response to the content of the email forwarded to me however was, "No, this is not okay. It is likely it is intended to intimidate."

"Was he old?"

or perhaps "Do you know how old he was?" or "Was he too old?"

There were some comments this morning about one of the American Senators. He has died very suddenly and he was "only 71".

Seventy-one is not "old" now. The expectation of "three score years and ten" has increased - at least in the minds of most people. We no longer wonder so much at those who live to a hundred or more. 

Not everyone does of course. I knew someone two years younger than I am. They died recently and a death like that does make me "stop and think". 

But there is also the other age related issue. When do you become "too old" to do something. There is legislation which is supposed to prevent age related discrimination but there are also other regulations which require "retirement" at certain ages. There has been some recognition that it might be wise not to permit people continuing to work beyond a certain age. It can give younger people a chance to take on those roles as well as ensuring people do not continue to do work they are no longer fit to do. 

I know one organisation where people on "the council" are required to retire at seventy-five. Bringing younger people is essential to the smooth running of the organisation and a major state event.  What they need is the "overlap" to allow information to be handed on. 

One of the local retired priests spends a greater part of the week sitting in a small coffee area in the shopping centre. He will drink coffee and read the paper. He is also available not as "the priest" now but simply as someone with whom to talk. The talk might be about anything. It could be the weather, sport, something happening in the community or, just occasionally, it might be a problem. That does not happen often and he is very careful not to interfere in anyway but he is there. The owners of the coffee area welcome him. He brings in business and they know he is still performing a welcome service to the community. 

I know of someone else who volunteers at a charity. She can no longer do the "running around" but she can sit at the cash register and deal with the customers. Some of the customers can be "difficult" in that particular location. More than once she has rung me to say someone has "forgotten their glasses" and could I "pop in and read some forms" to them. At eighty-nine she is still able but she has made a firm decision to "retire" on her ninetieth birthday. "I need a bit of a rest dear. The garden needs attention." I would very much like to be that able at that age.

There are rules about judges retiring here. They need to go at seventy but they can be called back for "inquiries". I once had to appear in front of one. He was in his later seventies by then but still sharp. It was one of those occasions when I was very glad I had done my homework. His predecessor was another one who did not simply give up working. He spent many hours helping young law students through the intricacies of constitutional law.

And there was the American senator who died so suddenly. No cause of death had been given at the time I started to write this but of course a "heart attack" comes to mind. I know very little of the man's politics but I wonder about his personal life. If he could suddenly return would he wonder if he should retire? Was there anything he wanted to do when he finally "retired" or was he simply someone who had no reason to retire?

I am still doing some work but I no longer work the very long hours I was once expected to work. I have refused. It has not always been easy. I can still put in more time than I would like but I try not to do it because, selfishly, there are things I want to do as well. I hope those things might give some others pleasure but they are not vital. Is this the way it should be or should we expect to go on working while we can?