Snippet for Andrew at The Scenic News

One thing always leads to another.
One of the many interviews that I have done has lead to a learned fellow coming up to do a podcast about ageing, with me, the nonagenarian, doing the talking! He thought it was very good, and a week or so later I received a request from him...would I consider being interviewed by a well-known woman in New York who was putting a book together on aged women achievers.

TONSILLECTOMY

My little grand-daughter had a tonsillectomy last week. She has recovered well. It reminded me of my own experience when I was five.
After contracting the dreaded diphtheria when I was three (read about it in my book ‘ Gardening in Your Nineties’), I suffered from frequent bouts of tonsillitis. Our nearest doctor at Beenleigh advised my parents that I should have my enlarged tonsils removed.
Times were tough in 1933, and my father asked what the cost would be.

TO END...OR NOT TO END...

I cannot quite understand it. Here is this woman, 86 years old, very capable, well educated and articulate, good company and in good health, but who is flying to Switzerland next week to have herself euthanised. No, I don ‘t quite get it.

Now, I know she says she has been quite worn down by her bully of a husband, and that talk of a divorce brought on this decision. He is going to drive her to the airport next week. It has been suggested that he is so glad to be rid of her that he is making sure she catches the plane.

A CHILD OF THE DEPRESSION

When I say that I am ‘a child of the Depression’, most folk know what I mean. It tells them that I do not waste anything if I can help it; I buy hardly anything if I can do without it; and I get great satisfaction out of tastefully using left-overs that are in my refrigerator.

My freezer is full of bits and pieces...surplus food that I have frozen and which comes in handy when I need a snack. Or when I do not have the energy to cook a meal. They are always a nice surprise, even though I label each container, showing contents and date.

My book GARDENING IN YOUR NINETIES, the sequel to SEX IN YOUR SEVENTIES

A review from Canberra: I love your book, I really do. It’s very informative; you are adventurous and you have filled your life with experiences and enthusiasm. That North Queensland trip makes me smile. The Aussie can find a way when things fall apart. The overseas experiences are a lovely insight into your travels and determination to fill your life with all that it can offer. Also, I love your recipes and tips on gardening. A really terrific read.

VALE BETTY WHITE January 2022

So Betty White has died. She was almost a hundred years of age.
I remember, as a child, first seeing a photo of Betty on a cigarette card. Among a couple of others, I had one of Janet Gaynor, and these young women were so attractive to a ten year old, an impressionable country kid who was so ignorant of the rest of the world, knowing only the dairy farm of the early thirties and the surrounding district on the Logan River.

It was 1931 and Logan Village was agog! There was to be a Talent Quest in the only hall that was in the district. The old brown hall had been moved to a private property some years ago. It was small, but adequate for the few good folk who worked their dairy farms and ran their businesses in The Village.

I was recently on The Morning Show, Channel 7. It was all about my new book 'Gardening in Your Nineties, the sequel to Sex in Your Seventies.' In this latest book of mine, a nonagenarian (moi), who wrote the successful book 'Sex in Your Seventies', tells of her efforts at gardening after a life of some experience at tilling the soil. She deals with everyday problems and reveals her own solutions. But as she works away, her mind wanders to her past long life. She talks of her childhood on the dairy farm on the Logan, and remembers her many subsequent adventures...

HOSPITALS

Whatever has happened to our hospitals? Once upon a time, the welfare of the patient was the important theme; now it appears that the welfare of the hospital is more important. Or so it appeared to me recently during a stint in a well known, large, private hospital.

I was in pain, so it was suggested that I be admitted to hospital, ‘where you will be looked after...’ I just don’t know about that. It was the hospital ‘rules’ that beat me.

THE ENAMELLED PLAQUE

I was quite taken a-back when I received the e-mail. It was from a woman in New York State who had recently acquired a beautiful enamelled plaque. It still had my card on the back, and she traced me from the name to my website and to my email address. She, Donna, wanted to know the history of the plaque, which was titled ‘In Memory.’ I was thrilled, and remembered the painting well. So I told her the story...