Mr Swampy

There was torrential rain in the night so mum decided she wouldn’t accompany me on my walk this morning. It would only be right to say that her knees were a bit sore as well. And she had to wash her hair. She has a problem with the world seeing her curlers.

Rather than walking into town, I decided to head in the other direction. When I was here 7 years ago, I would often walk down passed the Powerboat Club and up to the bridge and back. I thought it would be nice to retrace my historical steps.

Just before the Powerboat Club there is a mangrove swamp. On previous visits, the inquisitive walker has had to peer into the strange and mysterious world of the mangrove from the (relative) safety of the road. But no more! Oh, dear me, no, pilgrims. Due to the wonderful work of Bryan and Erica Costigan, we can now wander through it.

I do not know an awful lot about Bryan and Erica except that they did a lot to preserve the mangrove ecosystem around Golden Beach – which is pretty much enough for this old naturalist. The boardwalk through the swamp is named after them and now it is a wonderful walk with valuable information boards and terrific trees.

Today I learned that the stilt-like roots of the stilt-rooted mangroves are actually formed by the fruit of the tree. And that all the little stickie things that protrude from the ground in and around mangrove swamps are actually air tubes for the tree roots to avoid death by salinity!

On the way back, I snapped this lone palm tree because it reminded me of our garden back home…and because it pretty much reminds me of Golden Beach.

The wonderful Audrey had a day off chauffeur duty today as Rob and Norm came over and drove us to the hospital. It was great seeing them (it has been an age and yet they are both exactly the same as I remember them) and a nice surprise for dad. What a wonderfully well-travelled pair they are.

Dad wasn’t as good today. He seems to have suffered a bit of a set back. Denise reported that he was fine when she left him in the morning with his weet-a-bix but he was a bit sad in his Hitler hair style when we arrived. Personally I think the strange photo-sensitive guy in the next bed was getting him down (he certainly made me miserable) but what do I know. Although I do wonder why someone who is a bit upset by loud noises and light isn’t in isolation rather than in a general ward.

The bestest news of the day is that mum and dad have a new flat to go to! It’s at Kawana Island (wherever the hell that is) and sounds fantastic. The move date is likely to be the end of December so mum can now relax and I can go and see my wife.

Dad did (eventually) manage to drink the stuff that will make his bowels explode and we left him, confident in the knowledge that at some stage tonight, he would go to the toilet.