Yes, it’s about time I get out of this bloody hospital. Don’t get me wrong–it’s a perfectly good hospital, but frankly I’m sick of it. The trouble is, for most of the time I’ve felt fine. I just am not allowed to put weight on my right leg. That isn’t as easy as it may sound to some of you, but to the scoffers I say — just you try hopping up a step on one leg
My surgeon doesn’t trust me to Do the Right Thing, so I’m here being supervised and rehabilitated. A bit like prison. I confess, it is hard work. And I don’t like it much. I’ve been feeling embarrassed–guilty, if truth be told– that even though I have had rather a lot of time on my hands these past many weeks, I have done very little writing. I don’t blame myself entirely. There seemed to be an awful lot of sleeping required, and to be honest it turns out that drugs do not fuel my creative — or any other — energy. But even once past that hazy stage, I haven’t shown up for work.
I’m not taking all the blame for that either. My only connection with the outside world, as in Internet, has been my iPad. I think it is reaching its Use-by date, or in need of its 50,000 mile check-up. Performance is right down. And for the iPad as well. The main hiccup has been the erratic signal available. Maybe it’s the hospital’s location or too much competition from medical thingy-ma-bobs. It makes me crazy…
The good news is that I will be discharged (some might say disgorged) on Monday. I’ll head straight for Wilmot. Well, Erriba, actually. That’s the next spot (not a village) up the road. The operative word is UP. As in up the mountain. I’ll be staying at a friend’s house for about five weeks, four of which will be house-sitting while she is in Thailand. I’ll share some photos once there. Gorgeous 360 degree views.
And it’s about time I tell you what ELSE has been going on while I’ve been (incarcerated) in hospital for the past five weeks. My former home at Fossil Cove was finally sold. With much to-ing and fro-ing, it eventually settled in late November. There was no champagne celebration in my hospital room, but there was a modicum of relief…
The next big thing that happened–again with much, much to-ing and fro-ing, was that I bought a property. That has been a long time in the planning. A long struggle, really, but I’m pleased to say we have a signed contract. Settlement won’t happen until late January, but there’s lots to do in the meantime!
The thing is, I’ve bought a business! The Wilmot Country Store. (AKA “the shop”. As in “Shall I go to the shop and get some lunch?”)
It’s an absolute hoot. I am very excited about it. There is a residence attached, so that’s where I’ll live. The store is nearly 100 years old and an historical icon of sorts. It was the first grocery store owned by the Coles family. Today the Coles empire is the largest retail enterprise in Australia, owning around 750 supermarkets for a start, plus a range of other retail businesses. Big deal!
Another feature is that it sits right on a major tourist route–the road to Cradle Mountain, which is one of Tasmania’s premier tourist venues. Especially for Eco-tourism. And–wait for it– there is nothing else for over 30 km in either direction. Woohoo!
But apart from its historical significance, and terrific location, the store itself is interesting and quirky. It’s not only a grocery store, but also a post office, a news agency, a petrol station, a bottle shop, and a take-away food and tea room. You will certainly be hearing more about it from here on! Meanwhile, I have to get a liquor license, post office qualifications, inc a police check, and P.O. training, and all sorts. It’s been a challenge trying to pull things together from here (Hobart hospital) when it’s all happening up north in Wilmot. My son, Adam, has done the running, and he will run the shop when its open, with about 5 or 6 employees, and I, dear friends, shall swan about, being Proprietorial.