A win

Another stunning morning in paradise.

It’s a two steps forward day today!

Great blood sugars over the last 24 hours, on two long lasting insulin (Levemir) injections only.

No mealtime injections at all!

Now to see how low I can go insulin-wise.

Insulin keeps me alive.

Yet, less is better. Insulin has many a dark side.

I count today as a win.

Come to this house

A Lillian Dawn, or SpiderLily Dawn.

…. And be one of us.

From the song ‘Welcome’ out of ‘Tommy’, written by Pete Townshend and sung so beautifully by Roger Daltrey.

Being a T1D is like walking through a market, where the vendors all loudly spruik their trinkets.

“Come to my house, we have the answer”. “No, come to this house, be one of us”.

I have sojourned with Keto and the Genics. Pitched my tent with McDougall and the Starchies. Of late, Ray Peat has been my shepherd.

Their houses all offer shelter and a story, for a while.

Then it’s deja vu: sigh, they’re trying to kill me, pack my diabetes shit, and wander on.

Science too, is in that market place. Sadly, diabetes medical science is mostly of the ‘Once upon a time’ variety. I asked my doctor: “Why did I get type 1?”. He rambled on some implausible story about the body attacking itself. Then he got the shits and snapped: “You should be glad you lived for sixty years without it”.

Pulp fiction.

He doesn’t know.

Science doesn’t know.

Come to my house of cards, we’ll sell you sackfuls of drugs, and be one of us.

Sick. Prematurely dead.


Fly me to the moon and back

One day the rain will stop and the sunrise will be visible again.

IMG_1563 (1)What to do!

Throughout the night my blood sugar was nicely trundling along between 5 and 6 mmol/L.

At 5am I get up, inject 2 units of rapid insulin to take care of my morning decaf with sugar and milk.

1 unit equals 20gm of carbs.

At 6.30 I have breakfast. Porridge, oats, honey, raisins with more decaf, sugar and milk. Carbs 90gm, protein 16gm, fat 4gm. No further insulin.

At 7.30 I climb on my bicycle for a 35km ride. At 12km I check da suga: bloody hell!

I keep my nerve.

At 28km I check again: bloody hell! I now have to eat, otherwise I won’t get home.

Munch a piece of dry toast on the banks of Freshwater Creek.

Arriving home: 5.6 mmol/L.

Should I have injected the 2 units with my wake up coffee?

The peak would have been even higher.

But, there is no point in eating extra food to keep up with the insulin.

What do you say?


An A330 dangling the Dunlops on finals into Cairns airport.

I like writing.

Many ideas for a blogpost whizz around in my head.

I don’t like words.

How to express those brilliant ideas in less than 200 words?

That’s my block.

Writer’s block.

Good thing I have a camera.

Losing it

Am I losing it?

I was certain it was grandson Cooper M.’s birthday. It falls 7 days before his father’s birthday.

It’s mid-morning and there’s nothing on FaceBook. Surely, have they forgotten him?

Fixed it in two minutes.

Ping!, my watch beeps. From his father. “It’s not his birthday. It’s a week after mine.”


I’ve lost it.

Happy first birthday, Cooper! Whenever it is!

Back from been

A nice pic taken with the Sony HX90V in watercolour mode.

It’s been a while.

Both posting here and building boats.

Between mid December and now 1,936mm of rain has fallen on the boatyard. “Miss Maree” nearly went a-voyaging on her own accord.

The ‘humpy’ (Aboriginal word for a temporary shelter) has withstood the deluge admirably well. The boat is dry.

No more excuses, I almost saw the sun this morning, I must go and float my boat.

First job is to remove the building frame from under the boat. The humpy is in summer mode to allow easy runoff for the rain. That means very little room to work over the port hull.

I need room to paint.

The mast and rigging have arrived, and eventually the boom too.

I have learnt not to set a deadline for launching.

The fixed price, fixed date phase is over, now we’re into the profitable time and materials phase.

Just kidding, of course.


Time flies, deadlines whoosh, building a boat proceeds at snail’s pace.

My wife was right. She always is.

Reason to prove her wrong?

In September the thought popped up: “I can complete this boat in 90 days”.

Those 90 days: been and gone. Much progress, but not enough.

Carpentry is done. Now I’m sanding. Have been for two weeks: bog, sand, bog, sand, paint hi-build primer, sand, sand, sand. Smooth as a baby’s bottom, ahem, from 2 metres.

Next up: topcoat.

Then paint the inside, fit hatches and windows, lift up boat, paint underside of bridgedeck, fit the luff boards, make and fit rudders, stand the mast and rigging, fit outboard engine, fit solar panel, wiring, battery and lights, fit all the sailing paraphernalia, slap on some antifouling.

Then: Splash.

I have the sails. I have the outboard engine. The rigger has gone from ‘mid-November’ to ‘soon’ to very quiet, and the trailer man’s ‘this week’ has turned into ‘busy’.

The rains have begun, the cyclone season is here. What’s there to be unhappy about!

Watch this space.



Watercolour Moggie

I’m a Fujifilm camera fan.

Sometimes I wish they’d have a zoom lens that doesn’t weigh a ton and cost a fortune.

So I picked up the diminutive Sony HX90V. It’s ultra zoom lens sees forever, it weighs nothing, and can be had for not too many shekels.

It has a watercolour feature.

It makes the ginger cat sympatico.

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