Author: ian

“Dad” brought me an old mattock which, he informed me, I could keep. He also handed me three plastic bags of galvanised two-inch nails. I was instructed to count the number of nails that were contained in one of the bags and then multiply this total by three to determine how many nails there were altogether. My grand total came to six hundred and fifteen.

On this warm, sunny day, which bore a maximum temperature of twenty-four degrees Celsius, I transported the remainder of the mound to beneath the lower rail and from about half past one unloaded a further one hundred palings from “Dad’s” red utility. I wheeled them up to the site as “Dad” erected what he termed a ‘height measure’, with the use of two palings and a board, to indicate a distance of one foot or thirty centimetres above the top rail.

He began to nail on the palings and after he had covered a distance of about eighteen feet or six metres we adjourned to partake of an orange juice each. I employed the use of the mattock and dug a trench in which the palings would sit. Where roots or rocks were encountered, I sawed an inch or two off a paling or palings to compensate for this.

“Dad” hammered one or two nails into each paling, but before we ceased work, at a quarter past five, he ensured that every paling was securely fastened by four nails. He hit his left thumb several times as tiredness overcame him. Once the final nail had been driven home he proclaimed that the fence would last longer than he.

I rubbed Tiki’s back, firstly with methylated spirits and thence with a cream, before we retired for the night.

Lately Tiki has been suffering from severe pains in her chest and this morning is no exception.

By noon the gale-force winds, that were to reach up to one hundred and nineteen kilometres per hour, had arrived. They had already wreaked havoc in Adelaide and Canberra. In Mildura a woman of forty-five years had had to have a leg amputated after she was struck by flying galvanised iron.

The sand from the dunes was blown into the radiator of our ‘Galant’ and all over the road as I made my way from Kurnell to Marrickville. Upon my arrival I was told that I had covered the distance in good time. “I had the wind behind me!” I quipped modestly.

I listened to 2UW from half past twelve. Bert Newton interviewed the veteran actor, Danny Thomas, who was still in the United States. Although it was thirty-one degrees Celsius at one o’clock, the mercury was to continue to rise to a maximum of thirty-four. When coupled with the high winds this served to make the day a decidedly unpleasant one.

“Dad” had left the remainder of the two hundred and seventy-six palings leaning against our front fence. I used our wheelbarrow to transport them into our backyard. It was five past six before I again entered the house to watch the remainder of the repetition from the series, “Wild, Wild World Of Animals”, about the elephant. The female gestates for a period of twenty-two months. Males leave their mothers at the age of six years and go off to live with other males. Females, on the other hand, remain with their mothers for a period of fifteen years.

“Willesee”, presented by Paul Makin at seven o’clock, featured a man who paints underwater, in a tank made of glass. He claims to be the only person in the world to do this.

“Space 1999” followed at half past seven. As I was cleaning my teeth an hour later, Tiki informed me that she was departing to go for a walk. I ducked out to the toilet only to learn, upon my return, that she had locked the front screen door from the outside. Rummaging through her handbag, I located our other set of keys and was setting out after her when she leaped at me from that space between the house and the garage. Terror-stricken, I had to restrain myself from throttling her in the seconds it took for my fear to subside.

Following our walk, Tiki made up the free sample of ‘Tang’, which had been placed in our letter-box. It is a new drink, which contains Vitamin C.

From nine o’clock, I listened to 2KY and the music that was being played on George Gibson’s programme, “Request Line”. Tiki, from today, is to receive one hundred and twenty-nine dollars net per week. Her main duties during a forty-hour week are those of a receptionist and secretary.

After work we delivered the new black radiator which is to be fitted to “Dad’s” Chrysler Valiant ‘Town And Country’ utility. Tiki’s parents weren’t at home, as they were at the dunes at Kurnell gathering sand for their builder’s utilisation. We did have a first look at the kitchen cupboards, sink and wall tiles that are to be installed, as are the fridge, stove, wall panels and floor tiles.

At six o’clock on Channel Two, ‘The Spider’ is the final programme in the series, “Wild, Wild World Of Animals”. “Willesee”, at seven, is presented by Paul Makin, and features the quite idiotic comedian, Spike Milligan. Paul is also shown to be mauled by a plump and excessively zealous female admirer whilst he is on location in the street.

During a live interview of Prince Charles, from Perth, Western Australia, I found my attention being diverted, instead, to my selection of our proposed entry in tomorrow’s trifecta: “Little Ben”, “Norm Park” and “Jester Boy” in that order.

We left on our walk and could not help but notice a cyclist, for the bright red tail-light on his bicycle appeared to be there solely to illuminate that small area of clothing which immediately covered his arsehole. Tiki laughed uncontrollably at the sight we had witnessed.

We’ve heard of the sun shining from that orifice before, but not a bright red flashing light!

I awoke at six to the sound of Tiki accusing me of hogging the bed. Tiki brought me breakfast in bed to eat whilst she showered. We were lying in bed, with me tickling her back, when “Mum” rang to say that “Dad” was on his way here to finish erecting the side fence.

By eight o’clock we had begun to nail on those palings that remained. Our progress on this almost perfect sunny day was, however, impeded by an entanglement of roots which, we decided, had to be cut through. Tiki observed and encouraged us in this endeavour.

Our neighbour’s young son came across and informed us that while he liked the fence, his father did not. It seems that the lengths of steel pipe, which we used as posts, are, from their perspective, noticeably of differing heights. Due to the fact that his father had done so little to help, word of this criticism really irked us.

We adjourned for lunch just after noon during which time I watched Demis Roussos in the hope that he would sing his hit of 1975, “Happy To Be On An Island In The Sun”. However, he did not. In fact, the huge, bearded Greek who was dressed in a white caftan, sang only one, instantly forgettable number.

“Dad” and I joined the fence at right angles to the end of our garage and it stood in its completed form by ten minutes to three. He left for home to shower and change his clothes because Tiki and I had agreed, between ourselves, that we should take he and “Mum” to K’s Snapper Inn for dinner.

We arrived at their place at twenty-five minutes to four, just before friends of the family came to look at the new tiles and cupboards in their kitchen. Once we finally managed to leave, I drove to Tania Park on Dobroyd Point in the now chilly, windy conditions to show the pair the view of Manly, the city’s centre, South Head etcetera. We passed the clock tower above Manly Wharf at twenty minutes to six and parked in the car park in Wentworth Street.

Upon entering the already busy restaurant we were seated near the cutlery draws as well as the toilets. This wasn’t going to dampen my evening and so I ordered Tasmanian scallops as an entree and joined Tiki in ordering a whole lobster mornay, at a cost of eight dollars, for the main course. This was followed by my usual pavlova and ice-cream for dessert.

The four of us consumed half a litre each of the restaurant’s house wine. The bill totalled forty-eight dollars and forty cents, which Tiki and I paid in full.

I walked outside while the others were in the toilets and happened upon a former schoolmate, who conveyed to me the result of today’s trifecta: “Tricman”, “Jester Boy” and “Little Ben”; which had paid approximately one thousand eight hundred dollars. We hadn’t had a chance to lodge our entry and had, therefore, saved a dollar. He concurred that the pop music of today is, in general, rubbish.

After the four of us had walked up and down The Corso and departed for home, “Dad’s” flatulence became all too much when the pungent smell of rotten-egg gas pervaded our nostrils. We feverishly wound down the windows simultaneously before all-out pandemonic uproar could gain the upper hand.

I returned us to Tania Park so that the four of us could gaze upon the lights by night before we made our way back to Tiki’s parents’ via the Cahill Expressway and the foreshore of Botany Bay. “Dad” kept stirring “Mum” about her haemorrhoids although the pair did take time out from this to express just how they had really enjoyed themselves.

We arrived at their place by nine o’clock and on Channel Two, from twenty-three minutes past the hour, watched the film, “Hauser’s Memory”, from 1970. It stars the Scottish actor, David “The Man From U.N.C.L.E.”/”The Invisible Man” McCallum and Susan Strasberg. A scientist injects himself with another man’s cerebral fluid, thereby enabling himself to relive the man’s experiences from the Second World War. To be honest, the movie didn’t impress me!

It was eleven o’clock before we left for our own abode. Although I felt tired, it was to take me until after midnight to fall asleep.

Having arisen at twenty past seven, I dressed and made Tiki a cup of coffee, which she drank in bed. My back is still sore from my use of the mattock yesterday.

I bought a copy of “The Sun-Herald” from the paperboy and read it as I listened to music that ranged from 1940 to the present on 2GB. Cliff Richard has just been voted England’s top male vocal recording artist of the past twenty-five years.

At half past eleven I spoke to our neighbour through the new fence about the payment of their one hundred and eight dollars — being what we believe to be their extremely reasonable share of the costs — which he has agreed to pay before Christmas. When I asked him whether he was satisfied with the finished product he told me what his son had conveyed to me yesterday.

Upon our return from our walk about the “block”, I mowed the lawns because the weather had become quite overcast although the sun was still managing to peep through. Once I had completed this, I watched a part of the Australian P.G.A. tournament from the Yarra Yarra Golf Club, in Melbourne. Michael Cahill held a lead of two strokes after yesterday’s third round.

“Dad” arrived unexpectedly bearing the heavy wooden stepladder that over many years has become bespattered with paint. He had promised to give it to us, to keep, in time for the removal of the few fittings by next Saturday. These fixtures must have accompanied the original blind or awning that must once have existed above our bedroom window.

Tiki chose to go to bed. She is feeling the effects of her forthcoming menstruation. I continued to watch the golf until half past three when I turned to Channel Nine to watch the film, “Land Of The Pharaohs”, from 1955. It features the English pairing of Jack Hawkins and Joan Collins. I remember being taken to see it at the drive-in by the family of three, with whom I was essentially obligated to board, during the first half of 1959. That night, the conclusion to the film caused me to experience a nightmare so traumatic that the lady of the house had me sleep in the conjugal bed, much to her husband’s disgust.

The tiro, Michael Cahill, won the Australian P.G.A. by four strokes from another novice in Queenslander, Mike Ferguson. Mike Cahill’s total for the four rounds represented ten strokes under par.

I left at half past six to walk the reverse and slightly more demanding circuit by way of Miranda and Gymea and, at half past seven settled down to watch this evening’s issue of the perennial dramatic police series, “Hawaii Five-O”. Ricardo Montalban is cast as a racing driver and Diana Muldaur, as his fiancee.

At half past eight on Channel Ten, the film, “Two People”, from 1973, has Peter Fonda cast as a deserter from the Vietnamese War, who meets a fashion model in Morocco. The model is played by Lindsay “The Bionic Woman” Wagner.

The press-button ‘Touchfone’ telephone, is now available in Australia. It costs fifty dollars to have it installed and twenty-four more dollars per annum to rent.

Today heralds Prince Charles’s twenty-ninth birthday.

A downpour struck shortly before three post meridiem on this humid day that bore a maximum temperature of thirty-one degrees Celsius. On the way home from work I listened to the music that was being played by Keith McGowan on 2UW.

I helped “Dad” carry what he described as their “old” kitchen table, and the six chairs that accompany it, up the steep incline at the western end of their house, and loaded it into his red Valiant ‘Town And Country’ utility.

We unloaded the setting at our place, but not before I had experienced his vehicle’s new air-conditioning for the first time. He took away the aged, far lighter table and chairs that we had been using. “Mum” also delivered her old electric tin-opener for us to have.

After I had assisted Tiki to hang out the washing, and we had consumed dinner, she insisted that we partook of our daily walk. Although we had had the portable fan — that Tiki’s aunt, Ruth, had given to us — on during dinner, a chill wind blew strongly by the time we arrived home at five past eight.

We aren’t going to watch television tonight.

Tiki dried my hair before I drove the two of us to work on a rather cool, sunny morning. En route John Burles played “I Need You” on 2KY. The single is the latest release from the Irish vocalist, Joe Dolan.

After work, I transported the hose to the front lawn in order to supply it with the water it so desperately needed. Whilst there, I set about removing the fixtures outside our bedroom window as they had been rendered obsolete with the installation of our new awning.

As they had been entirely covered with dark brown paint, they proved difficult to remove. One screw gave me particular trouble even after I had chiselled the paint from its groove. In fact, I have developed a sore back from flexing backwards in order to obtain enough leverage with the screwdriver.

On “Willesee”, this evening’s presenter, Paul Makin, sang a few bars of “Mean Woman Blues” during a skit he performed. “And Mother Makes Five” followed as per usual and once we had returned from our walk we watched the film, “The Private Eye”, which bears the copyright of 1972. Set in London, it stars the American actress and model, Mia Farrow and the Israeli singer and actor, Topol, who is cast as the private investigator.

Tiki angrily chided me for not having washed the dishes last night. We drove to work in relatively cool, overcast conditions. The maximum temperature only reached twenty-one degrees Celsius.

The general demeanour of Tiki’s boss is getting her down and, therefore, it was my suggestion that we should eat at McDonald’s this afternoon. I had two Fillet-o-fish burgers and a new banana thick shake whilst she consumed French fries, a Quarter Pounder and a banana thick shake.

“Willesee”, presented at seven o’clock by Paul Makin, included a segment on the allegations that have been levelled at the Federal Treasurer, Phillip Lynch, which accuse him of improper conduct that centres upon his alleged ownership of land.

My sister, Susan, rang to inform me that she and Roger are expecting to receive financial approval to purchase a brick house in Mooroolbark, an outer eastern suburb of Melbourne, at a cost of thirty-five thousand, five hundred dollars. Mooroolbark apparently lies between Ringwood and Lilydale, some twenty-six miles from the city’s centre.

We talked about the young man of eighteen who was knocked off his pushbike in Epping Road, Lane Cove, on the thirtieth of October. He was flung into Stringy Bark Creek and in spite of being burdened by a compound fracture to a leg, and dependent for his survival upon the consumption of weeds and water from the creek, still managed to crawl during a period of thirteen days to raise the alarm at a neighbouring house last Saturday.

It was almost half past nine before Tiki and I departed on our walk via the usual route. Tiki retired at half past ten, but I remained and watched the first hour of the film, “Missing At Malibu”. Produced in 1974 its cast includes Susan Strasberg and Michael “Then Came Bronson” Parkes.