My dearly beloved had a small operation the other day on her right hand, which she normally does everything with. I mean everything. And I was engaged to do everything for her, except for one thing which I begged her to use her other hand for – lucky for me she was successful.
The other week I wrote about being in lockdown, which was a window I looked into for retirement and didn’t much like the view. Being the right hand of the boss of me was another reminder that in retirement I will need a hobby – one that gets some distance between us on a semi regular basis (well, let’s go for regular).
I was pondering how much I would delve into being the right hand when I heard a reverse beeper in the driveway. It was a click, pick and pay Woolies truck delivering to the new neighbours, which made me think about old mate’s version of pick, click and pay last week. She clicks, or in fact points, her fingers of her left hand, I pick and pay. Great system.
I tried to talk her into letting me go grocery shopping by myself but got a roll of her eyes and a “by the time I explain it all to you, take pictures it will be easier to both go. At least I know what to do.”
As painful as that trip to Woolies was for both of us, I still learnt more about old mate. Like she picks everything she needs for her flock of birds whether on special or not, apart from refusing to pay $1.50 per single passion fruit. But everything else has to be on special, especially if it’s something I want. The Arnott’s biscuit aisle didn’t have one bloody special ticket in sight, so no biscuits for the fat boy.
We painfully got through the list, the looking, the checking what weight or metric volume, expiry date versus price. Wow. We ended up at the deli and she headed straight for the prime grain-fed Wagyu beef, not on special. She didn’t even ask how much a kilo it was, just ordered it and I picked it up in its own special brown bag. As I fondled the beautiful lump of meat I thought, finally something I like. It must be the way I was looking at it because she said, “George will like that”. Alas, it was for George the kelpie cross.
Another window for retirement and another bracing view of what’s to come.