Queensland adventures

Take you driving in my car, car

To date, Franchesca Fiesta has done me good service. She's faithfully shuttled me around hither, thither and yon. Speedily ('cause red cars go fast) gotten me from point A to point B. Until yesterday that is.

A little excited about meeting the new graduate nurse transition coordinator at the Gold Coast Hospital, if not some potential research in collaboration with this group and with a colleague at Griffith University, I set off down the M1 singing happily to myself. What would this meeting unfold? Was I capable of guiding this conversation around to it being a win-win for both parties? Was this the beginning of a beautiful professional friendship? A little after 1/2 and hour into the journey, I noticed smoke in the rear vision mirror. "Someone really should have their car serviced!" I thought judgementally. Until I realised that the smoke was coming from my car. Franny "the beast" Franchesca was spewing thick, black emmission like I have never seen before.

Doing a fairly impressive triple lane change, I pulled over to the shoulder to investigate the problem. Turning off the car and taking the keys out of the ignition, I was impressed to hear and feel the car still going and to see the temperature gauge pushing hard up against the 120 degree mark. Holy leaping catfish, Batman. What is happening here? I called the NRMA who diverted me through to the RACQ (now I'm just showing off 'cause Queenslanders love abbreviations!) and assured me that because I was in a high priority towing area - i.e. on the freeway - that a tow truck would be there as soon as was physically possible. Uh huh. That took an hour and two follow up phonecalls.

When the towie arrived he blessedly had a) air conditioning (I break down only in the finest 32 degree, 98% humidity days thank you very much!), b) a tiny bottle of water and c) a fair amount of empathy for my situation. He took me to a very large service station where I could feed and water myself further (warning bells should have been going off at this stage) and assured me that the RACQ service guy would be there very soon. Cue another hour of investigating the service centre and all its functions, checking my email, calling various people to let them know of my "situation" and generally being bored. When the mobile mechanic arrived he took one look at the engine, muttered something about the "cams" not turning over and that it could possibly be the radiator. He wasn't going to be able to fix it then and there ... I'd need to be towed. "Where are you going?" he asked ... Brisbane ... "Hmmm. That's outside of the 10km towing zone from here. It's going to cost ya". Fine. I need to get back to Brisbane, to get my car serviced and repaired and think about getting to work tomorrow. The quote came back at $285 just to get me where I needed to go. I'd have to pay for it now and be reimbursed by NRMA when I called them, because as the mechanic said "they may work together, but they don't work together if you get my drift". I took this to mean that NRMA and RACQ sort of talk to each other but that I'd have to do a fair amount of work to make it happen. "I'll call in another towie and we'll get you home" the mechanic said. Cue another hour and a savage ant bite to my behind to find the towie who was going up to Brisbane and willing to take me to mechanic on Sandgate Road, Clayfield.

I'd spoken with the mechanic already and he was fine with doing the service when he got to it tomorrow (today by the time you'll be reading this). "Leave the keys with the guys in the petrol station and see if you can get a cab home". Done. Except do you think that I could find a cab at 1830hrs on a busy road like Sandgate Road? No. I walked about 2km down to where I knew there was a taxi rank, to find tumbleweeds kicking around the place. I called the cab company who told me that they were busy tonight and that it'd be about an hour (seeing a common time theme here?) before someone could get to me. The bus schedule had changed because of an issue with some of the buses in the fleet and I'd just missed the one that I needed. And a storm was a'comin. Uh huh. Great day huh?

I finally got home at about 2030hrs, wet, tired and with the sense that it might be worth buying a new car. I really shouldn't listen to various tow truck drivers who have variously predicted the end of the world of Franchesca Fiesta interspersed with "maybe all it needs is just a good going over". I'll speak with the appropriate people today. The NRMA to see if I can be reimbursed for the towing costs as well as the potential of a hire car, the mechanic to know the fate of FF and try to be cheerful as I speak with various new facilitators about the details of how to manage students misbehaving already.

Is it the weekend yet?

 

ADDIT: Much discussion with mechanics, the NRMA, my collegues and my family today. The FF case as it stands:

1. It'll cost me $4500 to have the engine replaced. The radiator is stuffed, as are the "heads" on the engine. This will buy me a reconditioned engine with only 35000km on the clock (apparently a good low number). There is the possibility that the radiator is OK, but they won't know that until they take the motor out and investigate it in some detail. Not a job to be taken lightly apparently. If this is the case, the cost will come down.

2. I can't afford to buy a new car

3. I can't afford to buy a second hand car

4. I need a car to get me around the place - the tyranny of living further out.

5. My mechanic up here and the one that I had in Sydney have both confirmed that this isn't a fault of the car itself. Any number of factors could have caused it. I've just been unlucky here including something flying up from off the road and causing it. Again the tyranny of driving.

6. Use is not a factor here. This could have happened to anyone and it's not because I've driven FF to and from Sydney in the last few months. This could be a reason that I'd consider buying a new car ... small engine, long distances etc.

The NRMA have been pretty good I have to say. They'll cop to the cost of the towing and have found me a replacement car while FF is being repaired. The help desk lady was indeed that - very helpful - and patiently answered all of my questions. I think her demeanour had something to do with the fact that I wasn't trying to screw the company, honestly just trying to figure out the best thing to do.

Cars. Why can't they be more like they are in movies?

All my virtual love to you.

Nx xxx ooo

Reiterating my irritation with all things "i"

I know you were all hanging out to see whether I would convert (suddenly perhaps) to loving the iPhone and dancing in the street singing "hallelujah! hallelujah! Praise the lord of iPhones!". The update is an overwhelming NO.

Problems recently:

1. Given that this is supposed to be a phone that makes phone calls (among other things), can you understand why I'm so irritated that the keypad for the phone function doesn't work? Can't press any numbers, make phone calls or access voice mail. I've reset the phone, restarted the thing, updated software - the usual stuff - and still the keypad for the phone doesn't work. Not anything else, just the phone function.
2. Randomly the screen goes black, then the phone reboots. What the ... ???
3. Intermittently when I try to turn the phone off, regardless of the length of time that I hold the appropriate buttons, it won't turn off. And no, the hold button is not on. IT will be getting a call from me today, lucky ducks that they are!
4. The thing is too large to fit in my pocket
5. I have to charge it every day as the battery life is ridiculous

In conclusion "I" still hate the "iPhone". "I" just don't think it's for me and will continue to have my blackberry work beautifully for me.

 

AAARRRGGGHHH!!!

Number of weeks back at work: 2 weeks

Number of PhD students for whom I have been invited to be associate supervisor: 3 (That's more than one a week people!!!!)

Number of nerves about various aspects of supervisory arrangement: In the trillions and expanding at the rate of knots.

So this post has been stimulated by the first meeting (well my first meeting) that we had with the second of three candidates (phew that's a lot of numbers). We were trying to unpack what this PhD submission was all about as the document that she had sent through was a little confusing (cue reflections on my own first attempt at the PhD plan. Why did USYD let me in???). The most senior supervisor on the supervisory team - there are three of us - and the student have a good working relationship. i.e. they've worked together before on her Masters by research degree and seem to be on the same wavelength. Excellent. Except as the meeting unfolded words were whizzing past my ears and I struggled to understand what the student actually wanted to explore. What had been written and what I think was being explained/discussed/unpacked were definitely not the same thing. And there seemed to be an implicit understanding between supervisor 1 and the student as to what they were talking about. I tried to contribute some of my "expertise" in the area and promptly sounded like a fool. Good first impression there Naomi, well done. Until I've done some further research/thinking about the topic under question, I'm going to keep quiet for the short to medium term future.

With the meeting over, my co-conspirator in this supervisory arrangement kindly and patiently and explained what had just happened. The question is a little bit clearer, sort of, but I'll wait till the second version of this proposal comes through to pass judgement. We did however agree that we're going to have to let this "relationship" between the four of us unfold. Not that it was going to be a problem, just that it was going to need to develop. I think I'm so keen to contribute to this process that I get my knickers in a bit of a knot and immensely worried that what I have isn't good enough ... yet. I'm sensible enough to realise that this is happening and to try to keep this in check until relationships have been more firmly worked out. My very first PhD supervisor Deb Neyle used to ask the student population at the end of her lecture if they had any sensible questions. I'll keep that in mind when I'm in these meetings.

Would you look at that? I'm back at the beginning of the learning curve again ...

The "roadie"

Finally, I've gotten my act into gear (following another surf yesterday morning!) and am able to give you a breakdown of "The roadie" as mum so fondly took to calling it. And she's right ... that's exactly what we did. I drove down to Sydney for Christmas and then we took about two weeks to meander back up the coast hitting as many of the surf beaches that we could. It was a really pleasant way of seeing places that we wouldn't necessarily have stopped and really relaxing into the holiday season. As an aside, I've vowed to myself that I'd like to surf at least a couple of times a month, either on the Sunshine or Gold Coasts as I'd forgotten exactly how much I enjoy it. I'm a water star sign but we won't go into that ...

So, a couple of hours away from Sydney, our first stop was Wamberal. Stayed in a B&B and on arrival were instantly greeted by iPod the dog. You can guess approximately how old he is by is name.

Putting my feelings about all things "i" aside, it was a really sweet place and beautifully close to a variety of beaches. Terrigal, the obvious one, followed closely by Shelley and Forresters beaches. All really fabulous to paddle in and I had one of the best surfs of the trip at Terrigal - perfect for someone who hadn't been in the water for a good 12 months. We caught up with an old friend of mum and dad's - Peter Smeeth - a retired GP now master painter. Really detailed, beautiful work ... http://petersmeeth.com/. He's had entries in the Archibald and has won the Sulman so clearly very talented. And we had the most amazing dinner at a restaurant called the Cowrie. Gorgeous food and amazing views of the entire bay ... http://thecowrie.com.au/. WOW.

On to Salamander Bay then where we stayed for four nights. The area was a really funny one and with extremes everywhere. Expensive, resorty looking large houses nestled next to beat up, weatherboard numbers in dire need of some love. Spectacular gentle waved bays backing onto sets of waves that saw me gasping for air an questioning whether I wanted to get back into the water again, EVER (Box Beach). The best stocked and looking information centre I think I have ever seen, staffed by perhaps the most incompetent set of volunteers I have ever met. It felt a bit like a large retirement village crossed with a children's playground. We happily checked out the area, stopping in to see our favourite people who happened to also be in the area, as well as venturing out a little futher.

It's actually not that far from the hunter valley and so we popped down to Audrew Wilkinson's winery and another little boutique winery called Adina's. Picked up some lovely bottles of the red and white varieties (in support of the local winegrowing community, not because we liked them you understand!!!) and subsequently swore every time we had to pack the car up again because we had a funny number and shape of bottles that didn't fit neatly anwhere in the available space.

Taking a walk down memory lane we drove to Tea Gardens. When I worked at the Autistic Association I took one of the adult residents on a week long holiday here, staying in a caravan and literally bumping into important people - the then Prime Minister little John. Perhaps I made Lisa (the resident that I was travelling with) shake hands with JH. Perhaps there was nearly an international incident when his bouncers got a bit rough in handling her. She was being a bit odd, but that's no reason to get defensive!!! Tea Gardens does indeed sound like it should be lovely but in reality, there's really nothing there. And I mean nothing. Do you remember the children's movie "The Never Ending Story" and the concept of "the nothing" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0VxGRWPh28)? This is what Tea Gardens was like. Evidence of the nothing of Tea Gardens here ...

(Lesley looking for something ... anything ... at Tea Gardens)

And then some excellent random things like this very large chicken coup along the road coming back into Salamander Bay ... a group of very happy chickens indeed!

Next stop? Port Macquarie. I loved the beaches here and spent a great deal of time at Flynn's beach. An open beach with glorious rolling waves, beautiful coastlines and really polite surfers. There was no dropping in on anyone, people apologised when they got in your way - not often mind you - and general conversations about swells and the state of the ocean were had while "out the back". We caught up with one of mum's oldest nursing friends, drank excellent sparkling wine that was given to me as a graduation party present and thoroughly enjoyed the area.

(Annie and Lesley enjoying a glass of bubbly ...)

On the way out we stopped at Cresent Head - a place that mum says that she has been hearing about all of her life, but never gotten to. The wind was up by the time we got here, but Crescent Head is probably the most spectacular set of beaches and bays along the mid north coast.

Breathtaking views up and down the coast and a lookout point to die for. I'd love to go back here and check it out more seriously. We were marching on though and had to get to Emerald Beach just outside of Coffs Harbour.

Driving, driving, driving ... we stopped at a little place off the highway called Ulmurra as there was a "MONSTER BOOK SALE" advertise. Who could resist that???? Not us that's for sure. And a good 2 hours later, we left the Ulmurra MONSTER BOOK SALE $200 poorer but intellectually richer for our efforts. A great stop off in a picturesque town complete with pub on the corner.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(See? It was a MONSTER BOOK SALE) (The lovely man who sold us all his books)

(And the fabulous old style Ulmurra pub backing onto the river)

OK, we're nearly there, I promise!!! Emerald Beach was quiet but beautiful. And there were a variety of gem-named beaches around the area. Sapphire, Ruby and Emerald as I counted it but I'm sure there were more. Our accommodation here was again very sweet - a huge B&B complete with what looked like a reserve behind us and a swarm of kangaroos! I kid you not! When we asked out host about laundry facilities she said that there weren't any for guests but would we please use her washing machine. We felt a little uncomfortable about that and found a laundromat, but she was very kind in even offering.

Our final stop before heading back up to Brisbane was in the Byron hinterland, in a little place called Clunes. Dad tells me that there is a fair amount of cousin marrying that goes on here, but we didn't see any evidence of it. We were a fair distance from the beach here (Byron), but the accommodation was marvellous. A place called "A shed with a view", nestled in the pocket of a mountain and overlooking a glorious countryside ... very lush for this time of the year. It was called the shed, because this is where the owners of the property stayed when they were doing up the remainder of their boutique cottages.

(The view from the shed)

(The shed itself)

(Inside the shed - i.e. the accommodation itself)

Very comfortable digs complete with visits from the chooks in the morning and dogs when we ventured closer to the main part of the house. We went to The Channon markets - great stalls, lovely atmosphere and definitely something to get to if you're in the area at the right time ... http://www.thechannonmarket.org.au/newsite/main.php.

And then we moseyed back up to Brisbane. All in all, it was a fabulous break stopping at some unexpected places and thorougly enjoying ourselves. Thanks mum - 'twas a great holiday!

All my love to you in the virtual world and I'll blog again at some stage ... it won't be as long, "nurses' honour"!

Naomi xxx ooo

 

Addit: This is especially for Maree. We did do some shopping and shopped well. Saw things, tried them on, bought them and then went and had lunch. This last item being the most important of course!!!!!

A funny thing happened on the way to Sydney ...

Greetings and felicitations to all in this the year of 2012. I'm not going to go through all of the irritating platitudes that (thankfully) I have now missed given that it's quite some time into the new year, but suffice to say I'm chuffed that we're still on this "journey" together. (Oh my god, did I just say that???? I vowed to myself pre and post PhD that this was one of the most overused and frankly most irritating concepts that I had come across in the last little while. And here I am, using the bloody thing. Mental note to self to remove this from every dictionary that I own).

So, the funny thing that happenend on the way to Sydney was that my computer blew up. Literally. There I was, working away happily about 3 days before Christmas, when a puff of smoke rudely interrupted my train of thought and my computer screen when black. Cursing like a sailor on leave, I restarted "the beast" only to find an even worse sign ... a second puff of smoke hit my right ankle as my hard drive internally combusted. "Hmmmm ..." I thought to myself "... this is not good". There was a glimmer of hope as I got the aforementioned "beast" to start once more, but subsequently Mr Microsoft asked me to insert my Windows disk, a sure sign of hard drive failure.

My little man from the computer village (http://www.geeks2u.com.au) confirmed my diagnosis and I had to buy myself a reasonably expensive Christmas present (cue the team of Visa cheering). "We can have this delivered tomorrow" the oddly named computer geek, Monk, told me. That was fine except that was when I was leaving to drive to Sydney. After some confusion/negotiation/persistance we arranged to have my new, very flashy, very fast, huge hard-drived "beast" delivered on the 10th, is subsequently in my possession and semi working. I'm in the tedious business now of reinstalling all of my software and trying to salvage some of the mail files that I stupidly didn't elect to back up. As we speak, I do have a micro screwdriver sitting in front of me ready to perform the necessary surgery on my old hard drive(s), and, with the assistance of a very cool SATA connection will extract the necessary files. Don't ask why I have one of these. It's a long story that requires and equally long glass of delicious red wine.

So this lovely people is why I haven't blogged in a while. Once I get myself sorted, I'll post pictures and tell tales of mum and my surfing "roadie" from Sydney to Brisbane, stopping at the appropriate beaches and eating the appropriate food (thanks Robin for doing such a marvellous job in this department!!!! http://my.travelmanager.com.au/robinfwoods/ ... Holy crap she's a brilliant travel agent. Please use her when you can).

I'll be off now, but will be back again soon.

My love to you all in the virtual world!

Naomi

Technology - a double edged sword for the idiot wielding it

After spying a chinese restaurant at Southbank on the way home from one of my hospital visits the other day, I had a hankering for some chinese food. I was dreaming of dumplings, salivating about san choy bow, dying for some duck (OK, not literally dying for some duck but I think you get the picture here).

I confidently said to myself in my firmest teacher head voice "you'll remember the name of that place, won't you?"

"Yes" I answered myself obligingly. "Of course I'll remember the name of that place. I'm in the mood for chinese!"

"Good".

And then I promptly forgot the name of the restaurant.

After I'd come back from the hospital, I'd spoken to Odette about this need for chinese and she agreed that she too could go a serve of sui min. She'd heard that there was somewhere good in Southbank and we set the date. Thursday night seemed like a goer for both of us and so I went about searching for this elusive restaurant whose name I couldn't remember. I'd make the booking.

"That's OK" I told myself again. "This is exactly what the internet was designed for. For finding restaurants that you know very little about in locations that you have minimal understanding. You'll find it, no worries".

I typed "chinese restaurant" and "Southbank" into my search engine. Bingo! There it was. The Red Emperor (http://www.redemperor.com.au/). I made the booking online, even provided my correct mobile number. The next day, the restaurant confirmed the booking and so I settled back relishing the thought of the meal.

We drove down to Southbank with a vague idea as to where this restaurant was but ready for a good feed. We got one of those magic parking spots - free and insanely close to where I thought we needed to be.

"Where is this place exactly?" Odette asked

"Definitely along Grey Street here. I'll look at the address that I've printed off though" I said with the certitude of someone who actually had a detailed knowledge of the Brisbane landscape. And that's when the belly laugh began. One of the ones that starts deep in the pit of your stomach and invades your entire being by the time it's done.

"What are you laughing at?" Odette enquired and looked at me quizically.

"So, I've booked us a table at 1830hrs for Southbank in Melbourne. I don't think we're going to make it in time".

Once we'd picked ourselves up off the floor from laughter and seriously considered calling the "Depend" incontinence pad group offering to be ambassadors for their product, we looked at each other and still giggling to our respective selves, silently got back into the car. Before we moved on, Odette looked at me again, and, shaking her head said "You idiot Malouf".

And she was right.

Who the hell left me in charge of making the booking????

A question of grammar ...

After marking my assignments, I keep on coming across a turn of phrase that I know is wrong, but I that I can't figure out/justify why it is wrong. Students keep on referring to "the provision of patient cares" and everytime I read it, I can feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Isn't it "the provision of patient care" ... singular? Can anyone help??

 

I'll have to find out where it is coming from and beat the offender/instigator of this heinous crime to death when I locate them.

A quickie ...

I'm sure I grumble about this every time that I do marking, but I find it fairly soul destroying to have to plow my way through marking assignments to find that students again just don't seem to get it. This is despite having a workshop that pretty much wrote their assignment for them. My honours thesis supervisor - John Lee - and I used to muse that if we gave the answers to the exams/assignments to students that the smart ones would still do well, the average ones would still be average, and the stupid ones ... well, say no more. And then by extension, I think about whether anything that we do/teach/try to explain will make a lick of difference to the students' learning. Man I'm happy today aren't I?

I think I'll eat a cupcake.

"Working 9 to 9, what a way to make a living"

Bastardising the verse of one short achillied, large breasted country singer, it would appear that the work goes on forever. I'm in the middle of 2 rotations of clinical placement for my 480 students, 2/3rds go out in "part A" and the remaining 1/3rd who go out in "part B of rotation 1. Now the intervening 3 weeks before the "part A" guys go out on rotation 2 and the process of seeing all facilitators at the hospitals begins again. In between these two rotations are two main classes ... 1) the workshops (this week just gone thank god) and two weeks of "high fidelity simulation". Fun but fairly exhausting.

 

This week has seen me run 22 classes (I only took 4 of them personally, but it felt like I had taken all of them) of anxiety ridden final year nursing students and trying to guide them through a self reflective process of what they do well and not so well in their practice, and developing up some achievable goals to implement while on their next placement.

 Two of the four classes that I took ran really well, the other two ...  if I'm honest were a bit of a dog's breakfast and if I'm using more PC phrasing, would have benefited from a little more structure. As has been pointed out to me by my colleague and friend Janice, the timing of said classes (i.e. when they fall throughout the day) is actually really important. The two excellent classes ran from either 0900-1200hrs, or 0800-1100hrs, crappy ones from 1300-1600hrs. Is there something in this?? You bet your sweet country singing life there is.

For those of you who know me well, I'm definitely a morning person. When I was writing my honours thesis, I'd often wake up at 0200 or 0300hrs and do a few hours work before starting an early shift in the hospital. This worked really well for me, because regardless of what time I woke up in the morning, come 2100hrs at night the sleepy dust had embedded itself in the corners of my eyes and not even Hercules could have kept me from hitting the hay. Nothing has really changed and I tire easily in the evening, but am firing on all cylinders come the wee hours of the morning. Unfortunately my afternoon students this time around copped the brunt of my diurnal tendancies and where the ideas and connection points flowed easily in the morning, they were less than fluid come the afternoon "shift".

What does this mean I hear you ask? Well, given that I am the CP5 coordinator and have the power to allocate whomever I want to whichever class I choose, I think I'll only put myself on morning classes (ah to wield the broadsword of power!). When staffing this time around, I was doing a whole load of backfilling as people kept on pulling out at the last minute and I had to keep shuffling people around. Next semester, I'm going to stand firm and keep the morning classes all to myself. So maybe not all of them, but definitely the ones that suit me. I am the coordinator, right? I hope this will make me not quite so tired as well. That I can get the admin stuff done in the afternoon when I don't need my brain to be so much in gear and hit 'em with my best when I'm more awake. I'll try it and see anyway.

I hope all is well in your spheres of influence! All my love to everyone.

(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mpKAA2VxWY8 just in case you needed a Dolly fix)

The proud owner of a new rental agreement

Last Saturday saw me sign on the dotted line of my very own rental agreement. I haven't had one of those in a very long while. It was quite interesting when I was filling out the rental application. Questions like "Previous landlord", "How long did you rent that property for?" and "Was your rental bond returned in full?". I had to explain myself ... I own a place (well at least half of it) so if you'd like to talk with the bank manager I'm sure that could be arranged.

Since yesterday morning I've been unpacking like a woman possessed ... My own place again - ah the bliss!!! More importantly, I'll be able to import Tosca back into my life again and have her grumpy little self around me! That's going to be next weekend (27th). I want to have a clean out of some of my stuff that I haven't used in a while, so if I can't remember what it's for, then it's going on the "to be sold" table. Tosca will like all of the action ... She's a busybody so will get amongst it all of the cleaning, boxes, nooks, crannies, bubble wrap, you know, the junk (I hope!!). If that fails, I'll bribe her with roo mince and some catnip.

There's an overlap of a week from when my shared accommodation expires and that I have the keys to this new place. So I'll spend all of this weekend and each day after work this week unpacking as many of the boxes that I can. The lovely lady - Andrea - who is minding Tosca has volunteered her husbands' and sons' services to help me move the big things next weekend (bed included) so I should be sleeping in my own place then.

Here are a few pics to show you where I'll be living. It's a good space - a little smaller than Cook St but definitely in the same vein. I think I'm going to enjoy it here :-)

(the double lock up garage)

(the front door complete with "Birds of Paradise")

(the kitchen - complete with gas cooking!!!)

(the view from my bedroom which comes complete with ensuite and walk in robe)

I've signed the initial 6 month lease and will give living by myself, in my own space, with my own cat, surrounded by my own things a crack in that time. There's room for a lodger if I need there to be and once I've settled in. There's 3 beds, 2 baths, big garage, a courtyard out the back and the property manager seems really approachable should I have any problems. All looks in order - at least it would appear that way.

So chin chin ... here I go ... Wish me luck!