Thursday 31st October
I am not sure
if I have written about my Oakley sunglasses…
When we were in
Townsville, my resourceful son Michael noticed I was squinting just a bit in my
ordinary chemist shop sunglasses. He let
me try his Oakleys and I was hooked. I
asked to be taken to the nearest shopping mecca so that I too could enjoy the
beautiful polarisation and the wrap-around comfort of these very expensive
glasses. And I have so loved them! Pete…not so much. He thinks they make me look like a gangsters
moll, just a bit sinister and dangerous.
I don’t mind; I don’t usually manage to project any aura of menace…
But alas and
alack…my Oakleys are gone. I had them on
my head when I went to the North Hobart Post Office on Monday. I filled in my passport renewal form, went to
the counter and dithered around finalising the details, wearing my reading
glasses, then left the premises. I
didn’t even get down the steps when I realized my beloved Oakleys were on my
head, or in my bag. In fact they were
nowhere not on the floor, the counter,
the bench where I had filled in the form.
Oh so sad…
I have spent
the last few days squinting miserably and complaining to anyone who cares to
listen. My Post Office lady hasn’t rung
to tell me she has found my glasses, so today I have to replace them…
I have checked
out the Oakley possibilities in Hobart, and in fact asked a slightly startled
shop assistant in Cat & Fiddle to take a photo of same-but-different ones.
I showed Katy the photo and she said, Well they would probably look all right
if you didn’t look so terrified…
NO it’s not a
good photo; my hair is all skew-whiff for a start…but I do think it is
funny. And I am very deeply attracted to
these startlingly purple lenses! WEE
HEE! No more gangsters moll!
I did take lots
of photos of tropical flowers, didn’t I?
All so glorious…
But…
Just look at
these…
Cold climate flowers...
Cold climate flowers...
(Thank you
Lorraine.)
While Pete was
enduring his three long days of posturing on his left side, he was able to
watch TV…in the dressing table mirror, like the Lady of Shallot. He wasn’t allowed to read; life was just a
bit hellish for him. He was, however,
able to listen to the radio, which he did all day and most of the night. ABC radio is such a good companion. And every night they have quizzes…
At 9pm on, I
think, Tuesday, Pete found himself able to answer every single question. When they were coming up to question 17, he
thought, Bugger it, I think I will try to
win this!
And he did just
that. With only a tiny bit of help from his friend…
We are now the
very proud owners of Series 4 of The
Inspector Lynley Mysteries!!
The funniest
part of this story is that Pete’s fiend Damien heard the quiz at his shack in
Orford. He immediately texted Peter in
wales and Roberto in Italy to say, That
bloody Headlam has just won the ABC quiz, with Marguerite helping him! He is supposed to be lying on his bed of
pain!
So this very
small victory went global in seconds…
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