Who ARE these people?

As my friends irl know, I have been involved in chasing up my ancestors for a few years. On one side my mum’s forebears have been thoroughly researched by others because they were the first Australian First Fleeters to come ashore at the founding of our country in 1788. Legend has it that my GGG Grandfather, convict Henry Kable (also spelled Cable, Cabel, Cabell and Cavell), and another guy named Green carried Governor Arthur Phillip ashore through the shallow water left after the landing craft was rowed in. They placed him on the sand in Sydney Cove and there he raised the British flag and founded the new penal colony of New South Wales at Port Jackson, later renamed Sydney.parttalm

My father’s family were, in contrast, extremely difficult to trace, not least because Walker is an extremely common surname, especially where his family originated in Midlands Britain. I didn’t even know the names of dad’s parents and only vaguely knew some of his brothers and a sister. It took me two years to locate records for the correct father for my father whose name was William Walker although his mum, Gertrude Lawrence was much easier to trace. I remembered at some stage that my grandmother had the same name as a singer from way back and that’s how I knew who to look for in the Births Deaths and Marriages, otherwise I was clueless.

How I discovered the rest of my Walker ancestors back to 1810 is a long story, peppered with false leads and a stack of logic tables, so I’ll save that for another time. Meanwhile I came across a twisted little tale with some 20th century descendants of my GG Grandmother, Eliza Cadby (born 4 May 1812 in Birmingham, Manchester, England; died Jan 1878 Dudley, Worcestershire).

This little tale started when I had a lot of trouble tracing what had happened to a descendant named Frederick Norman Cadby who was born in 1892. He married Alice Mary Ashlee in 1916 and she bore him a son in 1916 F N William Cadby. After some searching I found another son, James Leonard born in 1923, but no more children. As I had no idea of Fred the father’s job, since he hadn’t been an adult during the 1911 Census, I had a look in the Electoral Registers but couldn’t find him anywhere! Perhaps he had joined the Army and got killed in World War I? So I consulted the Deaths section of the BMD and discovered the poor guy had died in 1916, one month after his marriage! He was killed on a trawler that got torpedoed by a German U-boat and his body never recovered. He left his wife with a new baby to care for and the course of her life changed forever. But, hey!, where did the son come from who was registered in 1923, seven years after his apparent father’s death?

Then I discovered that Alice Mary had remarried to a Charles Victor Cox in 1921 and had a further 4 children, including  the one named in the BMD as James Leonard Cadby. Had Alice met one of Fred’s brothers later, or what exactly was going on here? It took a contact through that big American genealogical company to reveal the hidden twists and turns of Alice Mary’s life and I will leave that for tomorrow’s blog post. See if you can work it out!

 

Oops! Slipping a bit.

Didn’t manage to blog yesterday. No excuses. Today I wasn’t wildly inclined either but I’m trying. (Yeah, I know – very trying!)

Yesterday I was trying to tell someone that other people don’t really care what happens to you. She has a hang-up about caring and she thinks everyone should make allowances for her when she’s been ill, just because she says she’s been ill. She frequently says things like “They don’t care about me. I could drop off a cliff in front of their eyes and they wouldn’t notice”.

Now in real life I know some people are very attentive if they know you have been crook, but these people are few and far between. Most of us say we care and we think we are caring people but we don’t ever follow up with some caring act. And that’s what is the norm. Sure we care while we’re saying it but we forget a minute later and never do anything. This is accepted but is abhorrent to people who are Narcissists (who also never do much for anyone else either). Narcissists think everything is about them. If their electricity goes off during a suburb-wide outage, they have the loudest voice at the front door or on the phone, describing all the disasters the outage has created at their place. They never ask if it caused a major inconvenience for you even if you’re obviously halfway through drying your hair. But their oven clock stopping is everyone’s problem and you’ll never hear the end of it. It will be sooo difficult to restart and you have to run through the whole twelve hours before you can reset it to afternoon time… and it’s sooo hard for her to hold 2 buttons down at once with her fresh nail job!P1120036 (2)

Narcissists also prey on people via social media. They have some problem and they want everyone to pay attention to it. For instance, it might start with something simple like where to buy a certain type of light bulb. But when they get little response they can up the ante until they’re demanding you come over and stop them from over dosing or similar. Kind but naive people can become virtual servants to narcissists who operate this way and start phoning or going around to check they are OK! The best thing to do to protect your own mental health is to kindly and firmly explain to the narcissist that this is exactly what you are doing. Tell them you are protecting your own mental health and you can’t afford to be taking care of others at this time. Advise them of the accepted channels for getting urgent help and wish them well in therapy, meditation or whatever they may have chosen to assist them after you cut ties. Then un-friend or cut contact, block their number on your phone if you have it and start concentrating on yourself again!P1120067 (2)

No trip

 

 

I couldn’t quite believe I would not go on our planned trip to Iceland when my back was playing up. I thought the back would get under control before we left and could I look after it well while we were away. But no, once we got into the “no withdrawal/no refund” period of two weeks the bloody thing got worse.

So I had a CT scan and X-rays which showed that the disc between L5 and S1 (in the small of the back, where it curves towards the stomach), was bulging out in a big lump that would not fit back through the space leading to where it belonged. I decided to get some physio to relieve it but finally gave in and had a cortisone injection into the nerve root. I screamed a little but did not lose my cool. The radiologist was quite surprised I held so still he got it in first go! So now I can sit here comfortably and blog in contrast to my constant twitching, and getting up and down, beforehand.

Iceland would have been brilliant. Steve wants to do it in a few years’ time by car on our own while I still want an organised tour to take me to places I normally couldn’t go. A movie funded via Kickstarter was on Netflix the other night and showed the main tourist attactions very nicely but I’d like to see the bird colonies and geological hotspots. Named “Bokeh”, keen photographers will know what it means and labeled as “sci-fi”, younger viewers may be perplexed to find something slow and uncomplicated.

With full-on gorgeous cinematography you could believe was directed by the Iceland Department of Tourism, I didn’t have to worry about the characters and plot. Although they weren’t bad at all! There  were scenes of the hot lakes in the snow where you can swim until your hair goes all stiff with mineral salts, of gigantic waterfalls you can walk behind and view the world through a curtain of crystalline water, and geysers that whoosh up boiling water into the air at regular intervals. The two characters gallivant about on devastated black-sand beaches and over ancient lava flows covered in lichens, having picnics in the grass and swimming in a variety of settings. Very picturesque, both the young actors and the scenery.

The typical Icelandic golden horses appeared in the movie, abundant and friendly as reputed in our tourist brochure. It was a shame the movie didn’t permit a glimpse of the abundant nightlife in Reykjavik, but the plot didn’t allow for crowd scenes. If you are intrigued, there is a review at Screen Anarchy and I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of finding alternatives.

Meanwhile, I can cruise among the photos on Flickr and do some armchair travel while my various structural problems resolve. Look at this!

I took this in Adelaide, years ago and thought it looked a bit Icelandic:

Adelaide could be Iceland...I don't think so!

For the real Iceland, you’ll have to go to Flickr and enjoy the amazing pix taken by people who’ve been there (lucky sods).

Here’s a link to the tour we had booked:

https://www.odysseytraveller.com/tours/iceland-cultural-and-wilderness-tour-for-groups/

 

 

A new kitchen for a new start

We have decided we need a new kitchen after putting up with the boring and inconvenient one of the original owners for 12 years. It is drab (all a creamy white with  ?brass handles), the glass front of the oven surround had a crack and chip out of it, the sink is right in the corner and our fridge opens the wrong way in it.

Although recently I have been unable to do much at all, even when Steve cooks I need to enter the kitchen for glasses of water and to throw out organic recyclables like banana skins. The dopey arrangement of workspace means we bang into each other (or the fridge door), frequently and I hate that! At our other homes we used to call it “the kitchen quadrille” and laugh about the fancy footwork needed to avoid getting in each other’s way! The new kitchen should prevent most unwelcome dancing. So far the kitchen company has been outstanding in it’s friendly design service and attention to detail in the planning. We chose Wallspan rather than one of the upmarket kitchen companies as we have fairly simple tastes – no marble, ice makers or Miele.

We even decided to get our awkward laundry re done as well when the guy came to measure up. Appliancesonline.com.au has already delivered a new front loading washing machine to get us started in style in there.

Since I have no access to the autocad depiction of the new kitchen, this is a photo of something similar to show the quiet colour scheme. The paint colour is for the frames on our conservatory window over the sink, rather than wood tones.

Can’t stop now. Living I mean.

I feel absolutely dreadful these past few days. I hope it’s just a reaction to the stomach thing, not a sudden depressive relapse. I could burst into tears and never stop (it feels as if) or worse. But that would be giving in. I have this awful sense of loss. Just survive. Just survive. I can’t explain it. Trying to think about other people but only the ones that make me sad come to mind. Survive, endure; not explain.

No- not the PINGS!

Anyone familiar with the pings will instantly recognise what I’m referring to; the rest should be bloody glad they have NO idea.

After absolutely years of never having any pings, I got them back yesterday while enduring this strange stomach condition where I got all swollen (others might call it bloated?) after a seemingly normal meal (dining out). When I was younger I had a few of these episodes and named them “stomach migraines” because they felt like the ones I experienced in my head since the age of 10 until I was 32, when they left forever.

The current episode is nearly over and the pain and swelling have departed. I just have these abominable pings which I first experienced when starting SSRI anti depressants many years ago and which occur if I reduce my dose too much when feeling good. These pings seem to come from right inside my head- some call them brain-zaps – and the worst ones make my eardrums crackle and vibrate to every sound, even the softest flutter of leaves in a breeze. However, this time they are not making me cry and run away because I know they are temporary and I am not deeply depressed.

In the past the pings were unendurable when I sat next to a friend of mine at dinner, who has an incredibly breathy/spitty way of speaking (sorry if you read this). The eardrums could not recover between one burst of her speech and the next and eventually I would crash out of the place crying uncontrollably, sometimes just collapsing, unable to make any progress with my legs. The most abysmal sensation and one that could make anyone want to die on the spot. Not kill themselves – just wish fervently for instant annihilation, being unable to take any action to bring it on.breathy

The congestion or whatever it is in my abdominal area must use up all my free serotonin to produce the pings and I am not sure if it is the pain or the congestive process that uses it. I think it might have some relationship to the flow of enzymes and whatever – bile etc – that help digest food as I don’t feel nauseated or chunderous, nor do I get “the trots”. Whatever the cause, folic acid tablets and cutting out excess sugars, any oils and fats for a few days stops the episode from continuing. All I get now is the PTSD from the pings. Gee, thanks, Nature.

Anyone in the known universe get this stomach thing? I would have experienced about a dozen episodes since I was 20, so not all that frequent. But VERY unpleasant.

What the hell to blog about?

It seems I’m still waiting for things to be right. Now they are even less right than they were before. Slipped disc. Sheesh.

As we all know (??) a slipped disc is actually when the jelly stuffing busts out of the disc that cushions one segment of the spine from the next. The disc still clings valiantly to the vertebrae but the stuff that makes it cushiony has escaped so everything hurts. Currently I have slipped stuff pressing on my right sciatic nerve and it is an absolute killer. Gimme Pethidine! Uh-oh- I promised myself none of that until I am screaming because it is something I would never be able to get off!

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, a lot and not a lot have happened. My partner suddenly retired from work after seeing his boss finally retire after years of stalling. Steve is more than ten years younger than said boss! It was a bit of a shock and I’m not sure I will ever get used to being accompanied 24 hours a day, seven days per week. I have been so used to being on my own all day for the 8 years since I last had a regular job. Not that it meant I accomplished anything.

Random insert 3. Pansy monster

Random insert 3. Pansy monster

My love of photography is still lying dormant after being grossly disappointed by an ex-friend who had become a good photo and camera-chat companion. One day I suppose I will get back to it. All in good time.

ggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg

That contribution was by Stormy the drain-rescue kitty who desperately wants to sit on my cream furry jumper because the First Day of Summer is 10 degrees cooler than the last day of Spring. No aquarobics today as I tickled up my back by going once last week. Must wait until Craig (my physio) gives the all-clear. This means hopping up periodically to do several minutes bending in various directions to squeeze the disc back in, sleeping on my stomach on the floor and finding it very difficult to go to the loo!

Dreaming garden

Random insert 4. Dreaming garden

On the positive side, I managed to order lilium bulbs in time for planting during Spring. The results are now sprouting up to 1.5 metres high, some with buds ready for a show of colour later this week! We already had the light yellow lilies left over from a previous planting several years ago, but they are a bit past it and need renewing.

The kitties are looking after me with Bendix draped over the arm of the sofa purring quietly and Stormy tucked up on the other side in a tight ball! Aren’t they sweeties for looking after me? 🙂

Random insert 3. Pansy monster

Random insert 3. Pansy monster

Millions of things have obviously happened since I last blogged, but this diary-style entry is all I can summon at the mo.

Maybe I’ll be able to focus better now and discover a REAL topic to write about. I’ll insert some random photos now, merely for the sake of tradition and inserting photos.

PS. While reading an old National Geo at Craig’s while I got electrocuted, I discovered a 1992 article on an airship I had never heard of, so there’s a good topic (for me, not necessarily for anyone else, LOL!).