CABG surgery plus nine days

Final blood tests done. Discharge medications received. X-ray films too. Outpatient cardiac rehabilitation (at The Royal Melbourne Hospital starting in a week) organised. Review appointments by cardiologist and heart surgeon fixed. Final physiotherapy and dietitian sessions attended. Patient Cardiocard received. Discharge Instruction Summary signed. Big bag of chocolates plus a card bearing Sweetheart Vivienne’s heartfelt (pun intended) words To the amazing team on the 5th floor. From Ross and his grateful family. Thanks! presented to the staff.

So…Farmdoc leaves the hospital. Reverts from a patient back to a person. Deliberately. Eagerly. Meaningfully.

Due to a 2 kg lifting limit, unable to carry his bags. So his long-time friend Peter – Melbourne’s best physician – carries them. Poignantly.

Met in the Admission/Discharge Office, then walked to the car, by darling Kate. Unforgettably [1]. Met beside the car by Sweetheart Vivienne [2] and darling Indi. Lovingly.

Home Sweet Home. A cliché. But a welcome reality too.

The first day of the rest of my life.

This week's compendium

Here’s this week’s compendium. This week…

1. a lower Grand Prix attendance confirmed the event’s moribund [1a]. But the evidence doesn’t faze its apologists [1b].

2. SecondBite [2a] collected 1½ tonnes of leftover Atlantic salmon from the Grand Prix and distributed it to the needy/hungry [2b]. It must be the GP’s only benefit.

3. the CEO of Tasmanian electricity supplier Aurora Energy, defended prices rises [3]. His bonus size’s probably linked to the electricity price.

4. the American Academy of Pediatrics published a Policy Statement on Child Passenger Safety [4a]. Every parent of a child younger than 13 should read at least its summary [4b].

5. Qantas staff objected to John Travolta starring in a new pre-flight instructional video [5]. I don’t blame them. That’s not a job for a celebrity.

6. Grammar Girl wrote a piece on writing ‘e-mail’ versus ‘email’ [6]. She concludes it’s a style choice, but the trend’s to the latter.

7. following last Monday’s post [7a], I read this terrific article about various potato growing methods [7b]. Hmmmm. Food for thought.

8. I found out that only the most beautiful girls get to have an airline named after them [8]. Go IndiGo!

Finally, I wish you, dear Farmdoc’s Blog readers, a wonderful week.

Review Tuesday: 'The Adventures of Indi'

Today’s ‘Review Tuesday’. Today I’m writing about the longest play I’ve ever known. It’s called The Adventures of Indi. Production began 10¾ years ago, and its first public performance was 10 years ago yesterday. Can you believe that? The star, of course, is the spectacular Indigo (pictured) [1]. Lots of characters have smaller parts – including her parents, sisters, grandparents, aunts, cousins, schoolmates and friends. The cast also includes animals (mainly dogs, but two goats years ago) and birds (especially chooks; lots of chooks). But it’s Indi herself who steals the show. Definitely. She’s bright, sensitive, cool, creative, artistic, loving and loyal. And of course beautiful. She’s also funny. So funny that audience members sometimes pop their buttons from laughing. It's impossible not to love her. Her adventures include bike riding, skate boarding, roller skating, swimming, guitar playing, singing, and watching films and DVDs. Her life’s so busy that the play’s stage crew get exhausted from all the changes of sets and scenery. Oh there’s no shortage of action and activity in Indi’s life. That’s for sure. The plot’s full of twists and turns. It keeps the audience guessing what’ll happen next. And they usually guess wrongly. In summary, I highly recommend The Adventures of Indi. I rate it ten stars (out of a possible five). And the good news is: there’s a sequel. Production has already begun on More adventures of Indi. I can hardly wait to see what Indi does next.

Annie Leibovitz watch out

Today’s ‘Positive and Optimistic Sunday’. I’ve no doubt women and men see the world differently. I reckon the cause’s not environmental. So it must be a genetic thing. To do with that extra X chromosome. Perhaps mediated by hormones. Perhaps not. Anyway, put a camera in a woman’s hands and you’ll get totally different types of images than you’ll get from a man in the same spot. And it’s never too early for a woman to start taking pictures. On darling Indigo’s 7th birthday in November 2007, Sweetheart Vivienne and I gave her a digital camera. So on darling Jarrah’s 7th birthday 15 days ago, our gift was preordained. Darling Kate – her mum – said Jazzy’s obsessed with her new camera. It’s red. And so it’s caused her favourite colour to change. From pink. I haven’t seen any of her photographs yet – but judging by the photo top left, she looks the part. Maybe that’s because her mum (who took that photo, and this one [1]) is a keen – nay, fanatical – and wonderful photographer [2, 3]. I don’t know much about famous woman photographers. But some websites have lists of them [4, 5, 6, 7]. Maybe one day darling Jarrah will be on those lists. If that happens I’ll be delighted to say that Sweetheart Vivienne and I gave her her first camera.

P.S. Darling Pepper, whose 3rd birthday’s today, wants a camera too! No show without Punch [8].

‘Jewish Cooking for Beginners’. Oh what fun.

Some months ago, darling Meg asked Sweetheart Vivienne and me to run a 4-hour session on ‘Jewish Cooking for Beginners’ at the Daylesford Neighbourhood Centre [1]. Though we’d never taught cooking before, we agreed to do it. The DNC’s facilities accommodated eight participants. Our session booked out soon after bookings opened. Amazing. Over subsequent weeks we discussed what we’d do. A plan gradually emerged: four dishes, i.e. challah [2], chicken soup, matzo balls [3], and honey cake. Me being me, I drew up a running sheet, and ingredients and equipment checklists. The session was last Sunday. Darling Meg and darling Indigo came to help. Bottom line: it went well. Better than I expected. The atmosphere was relaxed. The food all turned out nicely. There were coffee breaks for socialising. There was ample time for questions and discussion. And despite all this, we ran 20-25 minutes ahead of plan. For the final 45 minutes, to the accompaniment of klezmer music [4], the 12 of us sat around a big table covered with a white tablecloth, and partook in a delicious meal we’d all contributed to. I hope our ‘students’ enjoyed the session, felt they received their money’s worth, and thought the return on their 4-hour time investment was reasonable. Sweetheart Vivienne and me? We had a great time. So we’re already discussing next year’s session.
P.S. Grateful thanks to darling Meg and darling Indigo. It wouldn’t have been anywhere near as good without your help.

Post title change, Petey's prize, State election

This is Farmdoc’s Blog 700th post. Until today, I’ve titled the posts numerically, e.g. farmdoc’s blog post number 699. Seemingly due to a Blogger idiosyncrasy, this titling prevents Farmdoc’s Blog appearing in blogrolls, and also in the Reading List on the Dashboard page of the blogs that are followers of Farmdoc’s Blog. So starting today, I’m giving each post a unique title. I hope this cures the mischief. Time will tell.

Last 25 February on her (non public) blog, darling Indigo ran a random giveaway. The prizes were hair jewels and Hama bead items. There were 22 entries. On 28 February Indi announced four winners. Numero uno was Petey Boy. Last week in Daylesford Indi gave me Petey’s prize. Yesterday I affixed it to his enclosure’s gatepost. As the photograph shows, he was mildly interested. I think he’d have been more pleased if the prize was edible, though.

Yesterday an election was held for the lower house of the Tasmanian parliament. With a population of only 0.5M, Tasmania’s self-evidently over-governed via national, state and local/municipal governments. Anyway in my electorate of Lyons there were no candidates I felt able to vote for. So I cast an informal ballot. I’m unsure if this was a copout. I appreciate suffrage is a privilege that shouldn’t be abused. But as an ethical man, I can only be guided by my principles and conscience. (As I write, a hung parliament’s the certain outcome. So political fun times lie ahead, methinks. Ho hum.)

farmdoc's blog post number 678

Here’s this week’s compendium. This week…

1. Torah Bright won Australia’s first gold medal at the Vancouver Winter Olympics [1]. Funny that – I thought Torah Bright was an evangelical Jewish sect.

2. talking of Olympic medals, the Vancouver Winter Olympics is the first Olympics whose medals contain recycled materials, i.e. gold, silver and copper from recycled e-waste [2]. Well done, Canada.

3. a mere month before the event, Qantas was announced as the naming rights sponsor for the 2010 Australian F1 Grand Prix [3]. Where the bloody hell have you been until now, Qantas?

4. I read that cat food has been successfully used to control cane toads – by attracting carnivorous meat ants that eat and kill baby toads [4]. Will the ants follow the toads – which themselves were originally introduced as a biological control – and become a major environmental scourge?

5. I came across this fascinating article about how love improves health [5]. I’ve been in love with Sweetheart Vivienne for over 45 years; and I’m healthy for my age. QED.

6. this paper describes methods of muscle cramp prevention [6]. It says quinine’s effective but unsafe; and vitamin B may be the best bet. It doesn’t mention corks in the bed.

7. I read this report of the promising early results of using paracetamol to help prevent heart disease, rheumatoid arthritis and some cancers [7]. It may be the next wonder drug, but the article cautions that paracetamol is now Australia’s commonest cause of liver failure, having passed hepatitis and alcohol.

8. Darling Indigo, on her blog, offered ‘Indi’s random giveaway’. Coco the wombat [8a, 8b] hopes she'll win.

Finally, I wish you, dear Farmdoc’s Blog readers, a wonderful week.

farmdoc's blog post number 601

Here’s this week’s compendium. This week…
1. Gunns Limited’s chairman John Gay has offloaded 3.4M (i.e. 20%) of his Gunns shares [1]. Hardly a gesture of confidence when Gunns is still seeking finance for its controversial A$2.5B pulp mill project.
2. I read this joke [2]: “Johnnie.” “Yes teacher.” “If there are twenty sheep in a field, and one gets out through a hole in the fence, how many sheep are left in the field?” “None, teacher.” “Johnnie, there are still nineteen sheep left in the field. Obviously you don't know arithmetic.” “Sorry, teacher, but I do know arithmetic. Obviously you don't know sheep.” Yep.
3. the day before President Obama received the Nobel Peace Prize in Oslo, Oslo University named Iran’s Ayatollah Ali Khamenei ‘Dictator of the Year’ for his achievements in ‘inspiring hostility among nations, increasing human suffering’. There were 11 candidates; Khamenei received over 72% of the 4145 votes [3]. A worthy winner indeed.
4. I read that Israel has the highest density of tech start-ups in the world. Israel’s venture capital dollars per person are 2.5 times the US’s, 30 times Europe’s, 80 times India’s and 300 times China’s. Israel has more companies on NASDAQ than any country except US; and more than all of Europe, Japan, Korea, India, and China combined [4]. A surprise, yet not a surprise.
5. a medical journal paper titled: ‘Age-associated cognitive decline’ calls such decline ‘an important human experience which differs in extent between individuals’. And it says the determinants of the differences in age-related cognitive decline are not fully understood…(but)…There is growing appreciation that factors affecting general bodily ageing also influence cognitive functions in old age [5]. The more research done on cognitive decline and dementia, the more likely scientific breakthroughs will be.
6. the Journal of the American Medical Association published a paper concluding that among women with breast cancer, soy food was significantly associated with decreased risk of death and recurrence[6]. How fascinating.
7. the Age reported that in 2008-9, during the GFC, the profits of Australian businesses soared to record highs. Corporate profits continued to increase – up to a record 27.7% of national income [7]. Why have corporate dividends fallen, then?
8. I was lucky enough to have several Skype conversations with darling Indigo. She has such a wicked sense of humour.
Finally, I wish you, dear Farmdoc's Blog readers, a wonderful week.

farmdoc's blog post number 580

Due to a lightning strike yesterday morning, I have no internet connection. The Bigpond technician’s coming next Tuesday. I hope he’ll fix it then. So for the next few days, Farmdoc’s Blog posts will be irregular. Sorry.
Here’s this week’s compendium – without links. This week…
1. former Victorian Premier Jeffrey Gibb Kennett who hijacked the F1 Grand Prix to Melbourne, said WA Premier Colin Barnett should forget about importing big events and focus on promoting ‘organic’ events such as garden shows. I’m sure Kennett hasn’t had an epiphany. Rather they’ll be some undisclosed benefit to him for saying what he said.
2. I learnt that cast-iron cookware can react with liquid and/or acidic foods like tomato sauce, to leach small amounts of iron into the food. Thus, cooking in cast iron can increase your iron intake. This is especially good for vegetarians – whose diets tend to be low in iron.
3. Greg Combet, the Minister Assisting the Minister for Climate Change, spoke in inspirational terms about one of the big problems facing Australia: ‘We should not ignore the demanding nature of this project, which will require every bit of scientific, technological and industrial capacity that Australia can muster’. Unfortunately he wasn’t speaking of global warming and climate change, but of Australia’s need to spend tens of billions of dollars over the next two decades building 12 new submarines. Ho hum.
4. I came across a ‘new’ word that I can only call an abomination: ‘webinar’, meaning a seminar that’s sent out simultaneously by teleconference and webcast. Ho hum again.
5. talking of new words still, I read that the New Oxford American Dictionary says the word of 2009 is ‘unfriend’- which is a verb meaning ‘to remove someone as a 'friend' on a social networking site such as Facebook’. Ho hum yet again.
6. I read that acidic liquids such as lemon juice and carbonated drinks can wear away your tooth enamel. To prevent this, you should drink them with a straw, or follow the drink by chewing sugarless gum. Or if you want to brush your teeth straight after the drink, swish your mouth out with water first. Makes sense to me.
7. indeed last Friday, I took delivery of another wombat, courtesy of Angela and Anna who brought her up from near Hobart. Her name’s Precious. So far, she’s settling in well. All wombats are precious.
8. I was overjoyed to kiss and hug darling Indigo on her ninth birthday. I can’t express in words how wonderful that felt to me.
Finally, I wish you, dear Farmdoc’s Blog readers, a wonderful week. (And for myself? A restored internet connection, of course.)

farmdoc's blog post number 575

In the past week there’ve been many joyous times in my life. One of the best was this morning, when Sweetheart Vivienne and I accompanied darling Jarrah and darling Indigo to their classrooms to start the new school week. Kate and her girls arrived late – because Indi slept in after her weekend birthday festivities. As we waited for them, I saw the Lollipop Lady (pictured) going about her business. Fluorescent, attentive, deliberate, measured. Impressively and compellingly so. As I watched her, it occurred to me what a responsibility society at large, and her community in particular, places on her. That is, to ensure the physical safety of a generation of schoolchildren as they enter and exit her workplace. She has no margin for error. One mistake would make her life intolerable. Unlivable. The captains of industry justify their multimillion dollar pay envelopes by the onerous responsibility they shoulder. Yet I’ll bet the pay rate of lollipop ladies and men is among the lowest in our workforce – despite their job being among the most responsible. Sure they may value their work for its intrinsic value, and also its community value. But its value to society is low – based on pay dollars. And, I note, their occupation isn’t among the 30 included in Roy Morgan Research’s annual survey of occupational ethics and honesty [1]. Ho hum. Despite this – no, due to this – I salute you, Lollipop Ladies and Men. Wherever you may work.

farmdoc's blog post number 574

Ralph McTell is an English singer songwriter. His most famous song is Streets of London. He wrote it when he was aged in his early 20s. Now aged 64, he’s not written anything better. So he peaked early. Today’s the ninth birthday of my darling oldest granddaughter – Indigo. As I sat down to write today’s post, the first thing I did was to read this post I wrote exactly a year ago – on Indi’s eighth birthday. And not only is each word I wrote then true today, but I can’t improve on it. So I peaked early. Just like Ralph. That’s not to say Indi means the same to me today as she did a year ago. As each day passes, I love her more dearly. And even though we live over 600km from each other, I feel like the bond between us grows stronger. Her triumphs are my triumphs, and her disappointments are my disappointments. My heart melts when she sees me, beams a smile at me, and runs into my arms. And these days, speaking with her on the phone is a real conversation. At the age of nine years, Indi has established a special, indeed unique, place in our family. It’s hard for me to believe I have a 9-year-old grandchild. But I have one. And I’m so overjoyed she’s Indigo Ulman Eisner. Happy birthday to you, darling Indi.

farmdoc's blog post number 563

Sometimes after darling Indigo and I chat on the phone, I want to talk with her mother, and so I ask to please speak with ‘my little girl’. Indigo thinks it’s really funny that her Mum, who’s a grown-up, can still be called a little girl. I still mean every word of this post I wrote about darling Kate exactly one year ago today. I think that because birthdays are a year apart, they’re a convenient time for periodically taking stock of your life. Far be it from me to evaluate Kate’s life. That’s her job. But I feel entitled to talk about Kate from my viewpoint. And I reckon the last 12 months have seen her blossom – as I wrote here. There’s been the prestigious Vogue Produce Awards, her wondrous two blogs, her superb photographs, her creative and exquisite craft, and her mouth-watering cooking and baking. Come to think of it, the blogs illustrate it all – figuratively and literally. She’s a blogger extraordinaire. How she has the energy for all this while getting little sleep, is beyond me. I’m in awe of her: She’s an attentive and adoring wife and mother. She’s a loyal and caring friend. She’s a beautiful person. And, not least, she’s my little girl. Happy birthday to you, darling Kate.

farmdoc's blog post number 535

I have a younger sister. And no brothers. So I’ve no idea what it’s like to have an older sibling. But I imagine it’s difficult. Because the trail’s blazed by the older sib. The younger one can but follow. And try to emerge from the older one’s shadow. Preferably as often as possible. And for as long as possible. But if you’re not the oldest or the youngest? Your trouble’s multiplied. You cop it from above and below. You’re the meat in the sandwich. I’m certain darling Meg and darling Emily could tell you how it feels. Now our daughters no longer live together, perhaps it’s easier to live as individuals unencumbered by sibling line rank. From my viewpoint it looks like it is. But I’m not them. So I really don’t know. Thus to darling Kate’s three daughters. Darling Indigo leads the way. Beautifully and amazingly. First sibling to do this. And that. Then there’s darling Pepper. She’s at that endearing toddler stage. Cute. Very cute. So it’s not easy for darling Jarrah. Who’s every bit as deserving as her two sisters. Accordingly, when something fantastic happens in her life it must be celebrated with extra joy and gusto. Like last evening when she proudly told me she has a loose tooth. Her first. Which one? See the photograph. Will it come out before, on, or after her birthday next Friday? Who knows? Who cares? I adore her however many teeth she has.

farmdoc's blog post number 527

My eldest darling granddaughter [EDG] is ill. She has been for a few days. With a rash (pictured), a fever, and malaise. And anxiety – because she’s usually well and active, but now she’s not. I was consulted early on – by phone and also digital image email attachment. When I was a medical student over 40 years ago, dermatology wasn’t taught at all well. So I’m not a dab hand at rashes. With an acute rash, as in this case, my strategic plan’s to first rule out a serious cause; and once that’s done, to treat it as skin manifestation of a general illness, to treat it accordingly, and to reassure the patient. Some rashes are pathognomonic, i.e. the rash’s features make diagnosis easy. But this one wasn’t. I thought EDG’s rash was most likely insect bites, or alternatively the rash of a non-specific viral illness. It’s hard enough to diagnose a rash in the same room let alone from 622 km away. So I began the above plan; and by phone twice a day I checked on progress. EDG’s mum – darling Kate – consulted a doctor at the local hospital who diagnosed a viral rash. Whew! My second horse had come home; though my first’s still wandering free in someone’s back paddock. So far treatment has settled the itch, fever and anxiety. A bit. But the rash is unchanged. I expect full recovery by week’s end – thanks to Mother Nature, Father Time and EDG’s immune system. But with two schoolgirls and a childcare toddler in the family, the next medical help call to me is likely not too far in the future. I can hardly wait. For can there be a greater joy in life than helping one’s grandchildren? Don’t answer that – it’s a rhetorical question.

farmdoc's blog post number 437

A sheltered life. I’ve led one. But now I must thank my darling granddaughters for, bit by bit, removing the shelter and exposing me to some aspects of the modern world that, had it not been for them, would’ve passed me well and truly by. For example Hannah Montana. I won’t say I know much about her, but I’m pretty confident I know more than do most 62-year-olds. Which is cause for celebration. Next, though I’ve had PowerPoint on my computers since 1999, in the 10 years since then I’ve never opened the program. Not even once. So last weekend, oh so naturally, darling Indigo gave me a PowerPoint lesson. She’s mastered it like she’s been doing it all her (8¾ year) life. Next, my darling granddaughters, at least the oldest two, have begun to select the DVDs they think I should watch. Last Saturday evening it was Bedtime Stories which they thought I’d like. I did. Very much. And watching it with them made it even better. Finally, last Sunday evening, darling Meg (pictured) told me that earlier she and darling Indigo and darling Zephyr had fun by making prank phone calls. I said to Meg she was leading my grandchildren astray. As quick as a flash she replied: ‘Guess who led me astray?’ Come to think of it, perhaps my life hasn’t been as sheltered as I thought. But now it’s much less sheltered, thanks to my darling children and grandchildren.

farmdoc's blog post number 412

Darling Indigo gave me a Snakes & Ladders board for my birthday. It’s beautiful. Like she is. It obviously took her a fair while to make. I’m flattered. Oh the joys of being a grandfather. Her grandfather. I think she got the idea because we played Snakes & Ladders in late March in Musk Vale. With much laughter. Joy brought by ladders. And many sighs and groans. Due to snake misery. It’s said a Snakes & Ladders variant originated in India over 2,000 years ago. It was used for teaching morals. I can see that. Do a good thing and climb to get ahead. Do a bad thing and slip down to where you once were. The board darling Indigo made for me came with a single rule: she had to win. We played two games. I wanted so much for her to win. She didn’t. I won both times. I’m just not clever or sneaky enough to lose without being seen to cheat. I suppose there’s a deeper meaning there. I’d love to shield her from setbacks in her life. But I can’t. Life has losses and setbacks aplenty in store for everyone. Put there to test us. Which they must. Should. Anyway I’ll treasure the board darling Indigo made me. And I hope she and I play on it many times in the future. And that she wins.

farmdoc's blog post number 408

When I did matriculation in 1963, I took General Mathematics (which I saw as practical and useful) rather than Pure Mathematics (which to me was abstract and abstruse). So I didn’t study chaos theory then. And I’ve remained ignorant about it ever since. Though I know nothing of chaos theory, I’m an expert in chaos practice. At least I have been since last Friday afternoon when darlings Kate, Brendon, Indigo, Jarrah and Pepper arrived for a 5-day stay in Mole Creek with Sweetheart Vivienne and me. I've previously written that ‘Where I live it’s so quiet that when birds fly over, you can hear their wings flap. I love the silence here. It lets me think. Concentrate. Ponder. Reflect. No noise to distract and irritate me’. Well, folks, not since Friday. It’s been full on here. No. More than full on. Go go go the whole time. Noise. Mess. Laughing. Crying. Drawing. Games. Cooking. Eating. DVDs. Singing. And more. If not true chaos then close to it. But I wouldn’t change a thing. Wouldn’t have it any other way. The exuberance of our granddaughters is a joy to behold. And what’s more, I get kisses and hugs and high-fives. Too many to count. Each day, come early evening, every one of us seven is zombified. Tired beyond tired. Like I am now. So, chaos or no chaos, I’m off to bed. Sweet dreams, all.

farmdoc's blog post number 394

You know how the personal ads go: ‘MJM, NS, GSOH’. Good sense of humour? Is there such thing as a bad one – a BSOH? I think you either have a sense of humour or you don’t. But even if you have one, it doesn’t always show. It depends on the circumstances of the moment. I guess that at birth we don’t have a sense of humour. Or at least one that’s apparent. But it’s remarkable how quickly one develops. Or becomes obvious. Darling Indigo, my first granddaughter, began to show hers well before her first birthday. She’d pull funny faces, or try to yank my spectacles from my face, and then laugh and laugh. And then she’d do it again. And laugh some more. Louder. I called her ‘a little tricker’. I still do. But she’s not so little now. She’s aged 8½. And her sense of humour’s more developed. More mature. Wryer. Have a look at the third comment from the top here and here; and the fifth from the top here. Arthur Schopenhauer, a philosopher not known for his sense of humour, once said ‘A sense of humour is the only divine quality of man’. Whether or not divineness is involved, I doubt it’s possible to be a well-adjusted functioning person without a sense of humour. I’m aware that it’s important to live in the present, but I can hardly wait to see how Indi’s sense of humour develops in future.

farmdoc's blog post number 209

I’m a grandfather. Became one on 15 November 2000. Eight years ago today. And being one is one of the great joys of my life. That’s a no-brainer. But as the late Professor Julius Sumner Miller posed: ‘Why is it so?’ And of course, my answer is that I don’t know. I suspect a grand-paternal instinct is hardwired into men, or at least some men. Including me. Teleologically its objective may be the protection of the grandchild. And/or prolonging the family lineage. As for many of life’s mysteries and wonders, I’ll never understand the reason and the mechanism. But I relish the outcome. I adore being a grandfather. The feeling of two-way unconditional love bridging an age difference almost double that between parent and child. The shared joy of the grandchild reaching life milestones, and mastering new skills. The phone calls. The skits. The stories. The songs. The notes. The photographs. The drawings. The jokes. The kisses. The hugs. All so special. All so precious. Whenever I exalt in my own grandfatherhood, I remember that my father didn’t live to see any of his seven grandchildren, even though each of them carries 25% of his genes. How fortunate I am. On 15 November 2000 my life changed. Amazingly, Unbelievably. Permanently. Happy birthday, darling Indigo Ulman Eisner.

farmdoc's blog post number 36

I remember the first moment I rode a bicycle. The bike, street, weather, onlookers. I recall the lot. I was exultant. It changed my life forever. In 1993 Meg – the second of Vivienne and farmdoc’s four beautiful daughters – did a university project called Objects. She asked people to write a paragraph about an object they chose, then she photographed each person with their object. I wrote: Freedom. Fitness. Environmental responsibility. Simplicity. Congruity of form and function. Hassle free parking.. Traffic jam irrelevance. Travel savings. These are the main reasons I ride a bicycle – for about 100 km per week. And of my six bicycles the Cannondale in the photograph is my favourite – dare I offend the other five – because of the beautiful aluminium frame, its Shimano 600 parts, and the wonderful memories it evokes of several long touring trips. I am a bicycle person and this is my bicycle. Nowadays, I’m not proud to say, I ride less; sometimes not for weeks. But the good news is that Indigo – the oldest of Vivienne and farmdoc’s three beautiful granddaughters – has the bug. She is hooked on riding her bike. Is it genetic? Her mum Kate rode a whole Great Victorian Bike Ride without changing gears once. Anyway Indigo is a natural. And I am exultant. What goes around comes around. Just like a bicycle wheel.