Patra's Other Place

I started out with Patra's Place, primarily dedicated to my linen collection and stitching projects. But I kept getting side-tracked, so I decided to create Patra's Other Place for anything not related to embroidery topics. So you now have a choice. If you are interested in me, read this. If you only want to see my linen and stitching, visit Patra's (original) Place! (Please note that by clicking on any of the photos, they will be enlarged to fill your computer screen.)

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Location: Melbourne, Vic., Australia

I am married to Ken. We have no children except a cat and a collection of Australian parrots, finches, canaries and a dozen hens.

Monday, September 07, 2009

I wish this year was over and done with!

Again, thank you everyone who has sent me good wishes for Ken's health. The cardio. phoned today to inform Ken what he has planned to do. First off, he's doubled the beta blocker meds. In six weeks time he wants to see Ken again to see whether that has made any difference, and if it has, Dr.H said they might try open heart surgery, in spite of the lungs. Hm. I don't know how Ken has remained so calm. I think I would have slashed the proverbials by now.

He says he's more worried about his Mum than himself. She has been hauled back to hospital again, this time with severe gastro-enteritis, which is not a nice thing for anyone, but even worse for a 96 year old. We went to visit her today, but she was so exhausted from 24 hours of chucking, she was asleep, so we came home again. On the way, we stopped off at a friend's house to say hi. Her street is on a very steep hill, and when Ken parked the car and put the handbrake on, something went PING! and the handbrake went loose in Ken's hand. As luck would have it, our friend wasn't home, so we went home, picked up my car, and drove to the local Tyrepower garage who service our cars, and left Ken's car there to be fixed.

Earlier tonight we were sitting in the lounge room, and became aware of a pungent smell. We looked at Topsy, who had been with us for most of the time, behaving herself for a change. She looked back at us in that unblinking manner of cats who defy you to blame them for anything at all. Ken crawled around the floor feeling for wet patches, and sniffing under furniture, but could find nothing. I blamed him for walking around the house in his old shoes when he's been in the chook house collecting eggs. I've been nagging him to leave those shoes in the laundry instead of trekking through the house in them with chook poo and wee on the soles, but he 'just forgets' to take them off. He has just came in here and said "I know what that smell reminds me of. The last time we had termites in the house, it smelled like pee". I'd rather it was chook pee....


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