Twead - Two Old Fools Down Under

Chickens, Mules and Two Old Fools

Two Old Fools ~ Ol!

Two Old Fools on a Camel

Two Old Fools in Spain Again

Two Old Fools in Turmoil

Two Old Fools Down Under

Prequels

One Young Fool in Dorset

One Young Fool in South Africa

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* * *

Back in Spain, Joe and I had discussed what type of home might suit us best in Australia. At one point in the past, Karly and Cam had considered building a granny flat for us, but it hadnt been feasible.

Ill leave it totally up to you, said Joe. Something not too big, something easy to look after, low maintenance. A place that doesnt need any work done at all.

I had agreed, but I was in for a shock. House prices in Sydney were amongst the highest in the world. Our budget would barely buy a flat, or unit as they are called in Australia, let alone a house.

I had no idea they were so expensive! I said to my daughter. I think Im going to have to think again. Perhaps a retirement village might be the answer? Some of them look really nice. They have nice grounds, swimming pools, gyms, medical facilities. You can even have pets in some of them.

A wrinkly-ville? Are you quite sure? A wrinkly-ville was Karlys rather disparaging description of a retirement village. She was dubious. I dont think youre old enough to be happy in one of those. Not yet.

Well, I think its worth considering. Id enjoy having big gardens.

Shared with all the other residents.

And some of these places are close to a beach. And there are some not too far from you. If its comfortable and affordable, I should at least look. I think it might suit Joe very well, and thered always be doctors available.

Okay, well look.

There was so much to think about.

Indy was delightful. Three years old and full of mischief and imagination. Her favourite game was Princesses and she chose to wear tiaras on most days. Not only did she wear bejewelled crowns, but Princess Nanny was expected to wear them, too. In addition, Indy had sheets of multicoloured plastic sticky-back jewels.

Di monds, she said as she pressed huge sparkling jewels onto my earlobes. I make you a little bit quite pretty.

Sometimes I would completely forget about my tiara and generously-sized earrings when I answered the door.

Sign here, please, said the delivery man, looking at me strangely.

Only much later, when I caught sight of myself in a mirror, did I remember my finery.

Often wed play mermaids and swim together across the dining room floorboards. Or shops in the side garden where my son-in-law, Cam, had set up a Wendy house, called a cubby house in Australia. That little side garden was full of interest with its chicken coop, Balinese hut, cubby house and trampoline.

Adjoining the chicken garden was my den. If I needed peace, I could retreat to this, my writers lair, which had been created especially for me. I had a desk, Internet access, a TV, a kettle for coffee, a sofa, and a cupboard where I kept a few toys for visits from Indy.

It was here, sometimes accompanied by Indys tabby cat, Bandsaw, that I conducted all my research into retirement villages and houses for sale. In the evenings, I would Skype with Joe, or write, while bugs the size of small family cars threw themselves at my window.

During the day my lair was cool and I could gaze out of the window at the blue sky. It was springtime and the air was full of birdsong. Not the polite, tuneful tweeting we expect from British wild birds, but the raucous shrieks of cockatoos and the repeated snaps of whiplash birds.

The Happy Birthday bird sometimes sang his song, although nobody ever believed me when I mentioned it. Now that I know a little more about Australia and its wildlife, Im guessing it might have been a magpie. Magpies sing beautifully and can be excellent mimics. They also live for many years, which would explain why I heard this particular bird repeatedly over several years. Id first heard it on previous visits from Spain, and it was still performing the same birthday song.