Courage and strength

 This last few weeks had become, according to a previous blog, “my choice”. It had been my choice to move out of Scarborough, it had been my choice to move into the community at Cootharaba. How many people make the wrong choice? It sure was me.

This place I have loved. I still do… parts of it. When I first came here there were seven people at the lunch my friend and I had been invited to. It was lovely. I saw the cabin I was moving into, and that was lovely too. When I had moved in, there were only four actual residents, including me. One of the earlier residents had left before I moved in – I never knew why, but I’ve been given some hints.

It wasn’t until after the first two weeks there that I started to feel uncomfortable. One of the other people was often in a bad mood, and took some out on me. I had problems expressing myself, and he didn’t understand what I didn’t understand.

I had problems with the suggestion of extending the porch roof from my cabin, but it would be without a flyscreen. The plantation shutters, which are my doors in the present situation, have no way to stop wind or rain coming into my cabin, which I found out after some very heavy rain and wind. In the end I didn’t agree to extending the roof without a flyscreen because I knew that insects would have easy entry through the shutters. I suggested plastic roller blinds which I could roll down during any rain or storm. That was discarded – not by me. I hung a sheet and one of my own shower curtains inside the porch flyscreen to stop the wind from coming inside. I also pegged a small blanket inside my doors. Even the porch was very wet when the storm finally stopped.

We had a lot of problems with the solar power which this property has – it’s the only power, and when I’d first been told about it, it sounded excellent! But during the rain periods the power never charged as much as it was needed. Even when we had four people living here we didn’t have enough power.

I had seven large plastic containers which held my history stuff. Those came everywhere with me. My landlord had suggested building a mezzanine floor above the window in the highest ceiling area. I couldn’t picture it. He changed that to building a set of shelves, which I also couldn’t picture. He packed a shitty. I told him I didn’t understand. Nothing yet done. I’m pleased it hasn’t been!

I attempted internet connections with a NetGear device from Telstra which very rarely works on the farm. Twice a week, at least, I would drive into Noosa and park at the library. That was the only way I could have gotten online as I really needed to. My personal website was not good out at the farm, and I’d lost enthusiasm with the blogs because I couldn’t ever upload them from out there.

Another person left. This person had only just had her cabin built, but had been to visit her parents who are on the Gold Coast. They are old, and it seemed they were even worse. She moved back to where she had come from. I have recently been given a few hints about why she had left, and not really about her parents.

We had another resident, who only stayed here only for a week. We were then due to have another resident, for who the landlord had driven past Brisbane to pick up some of her furniture. She didn’t even move in – I was told some of the reasons, and not personal to her.

In the following week I began feeling very uncomfortable. After the landlord had left on his holiday there were only two of us staying on the property, when I’d met seven people before I’d moved in. I started to look at somewhere I could move to in Brisbane.

Last weekend I went down there to stay for a weekend with friends. We went to the Springwood Lions Club and enjoyed a group called InExcess, who were playing INXS songs. They were very good. That weekend I went to a retirement village and checked it out. It wasn’t the best, but it would have been good for me and my dog. I paid $100 deposit. I’d had to wait for 5 days before the retirement home finally told me I was unsuccessful. I’d been entirely alone back on the farm, with just my dog, whilst the other resident had to go down to Mt Tamborine to return furniture. I was feeling extremely depressed.

I had also applied for a couple of other retirement villages. On Monday this week I finally had a call from one in Bethania, and it’s definite. I am moving there in just over a week, with my dog.

Why? I made the wrong choice to move out here. I am so hoping that staying in the city I’ve lived in for the last 11 years will still be good for me. Change, not choice.