Don’t set your mind on things you don’t posess as if they were yours, but count the blessings you actually possess and think how much you would desire them if they weren’t already yours.
Marcus Aurelius
What if…
I never met Amy? Hayden was never born? I never met Paul and Charlie? I never saw the Sex Pistols on TV? I never met the Gaunts Common kids, Rupert, Jeremy, etc? I never made plans for where I live now? I never studied anything else after getting my first job? I never took the chance to travel to China? I never took the time to study about Asian music? Hayden had a disability? I didn’t have my own space? I hated reading books? I didn’t enjoy music? There was no internet?
I have so much in my life to appreciate and I really do!
“You may not sleep again”
Gratitude Journal
I am so happy and grateful to be able to look forward to ask things in my future. Just as we are now settled and made ourselves a beautiful home the question has been raised about selling and moving to the city. I really really love where I am now but selling this house would give us a huge boost of money that could take all pressure off us having to work all the time. Stay or go – everything is great!
To-do list
Read three chapters of Anna Karenina.
Sort music files and CDs (ongoing).
Upload TCRAH to SoulSeek.
30 squats after waking up.
Email to Aaron.
Record another TCRAH?
Sort more files for TCRAH.
Close some Chrome tabs!
Did it list
30 squats.
Sorted some music files and CDs.
Closed a few Chrome tabs.
Dictated and posted 2 blog entries.
Had a good time teaching the kids.
Went to a craft fair with Amy, Aing, Nu and Gus (enjoyable).
Not yet hungover, still wobbly and happily void of any stresses involved with departing my home country of the last 24 years, Thai Airways does its usual job of safe and stylish delivery. In between meals and bouts of sleep, I observe the passenger in front of me constantly annoying the hostess and interrupting her as she talks and serves others. Finally, she firmly tells him he has to wait his turn.
I tried to watch the new Blade Runner movie but this surely wasn’t the right environment. Much more satisfied with the mindless comedy of Thor: Ragnarok. Pretty sure I was still drunk at the time of arrival in Bangkok where the queues for transfer were horribly long but still, I didn’t care as other foreigners stood by and shook their heads. “Welcome to my country” as Amy sarcastically often says.
The short flight to Chiang Rai is not of any particular note except for the Sumo who steadily waddles on the plane and listens to something on his headphones. I’d like to think it’s the latest grindcore release or something equally zen.
Just my luck, I get stopped at customs, where no one ever gets stopped and they pick out the new iPhone I bought for Amy as a surprise, at duty-free in Sydney. They want me to pay tax on it. Apparently, you can bring stuff in without tax if the value is under 20,000 baht and this is over. I plead with them that I have just relocated from Australia and this is how I am welcomed to Thailand. I tell them my wife will be furious if she knows I had to pay tax on the gift. I look at them puppy-eyed. They discount the tax rate for me but it’s then I realise I only have 500 baht on me anyway. I offer it to them but they seem unimpressed. They look over my shoulder and ask ‘Is that your wife?’ Amy is waiting just beyond the doors with a curious look on her face as the officers her invite her inside.
Some discussions later we end up paying the tax and told that it was just unlucky they decided to check my bag. It’s also apparent that if the phone had been unpacked and in my pocket, no one would have noticed either.
Welcome to Thailand, indeed.
Next day the hangover finally kicks in, added to by the approach of a cold, no doubt initiated by the last night of drinking and talking which caused me to almost lose my voice. Now the coughing starts.
Both our cats are confused to see me again but we soon make up when I start feeding them. Whoever feeds them is their favourite, always. We are all camped in a bedroom in Amy’s parent’s house. A place that is her childhood home and we’ve often stayed here on our previous travels but is not quite comfortable for us as we don’t know where their things are, and all our things are stored in the multitude of boxes piled high in the living room.
We head off to visit our house, the first time I have seen it in person. Now I can appreciate the dimensions of each space, yet can’t imagine it as a home just yet. It won’t be long now and we can start filling it with the things that make it homely.
I start my life as a gardener today, breaking up big clumps of clay and watering all the various plants and trees still left growing which includes durian, ten lime trees, jackfruit (already with one big fruit almost ready), papayas, Thai chillies and multiple frangipanis. We’ve also ordered 5 Jacaranda trees that we hope will grow and blossom at the front of our land and attract visitors should we run some business from there. A small reminder of Australia too.
We pick up some drinks for the workers at the local store where I’m introduced to the shopkeeper. May as well start the village gossip at the source. I hope we’ll become good friends in the future.
The workers live in temporary tin sheds they have built alongside our house and we are doing little extra things for them to keep them content and happy to work for us. They are not quite used to some of the designs and plans that we have so we need to explain things often and carefully for them. They are very hardworking men and women, mostly from Burma, though legally working I’m told. One wife is fairly heavily pregnant and presumably (hopefully) not doing any heavy work but maybe preparing meals for everyone. Despite their poor accommodation they still have a TV and satellite dish rigged up to keep up with their favourite shows or maybe the EPL.
Despite our tiredness and my now constant coughing, dad (father-in-law) decides we must all go out to the new fish restaurant to welcome me here. I try to partake accordingly but between us, we only manage three bottles of beer. The food isn’t as good as some other places we have tried in the past and the service was still going through a teething period. There’s a big lake out front with attractive table settings but in the evening it’s a constant battle with mosquitos, which would spoil things somewhat. I still have to invest in repellents and appropriate clothing, luckily those things are very cheap here.
Both our nights are fitfully slept as I cough myself and Amy awake but we stirred at 6am to get to our house again before it gets too hot. I set about the watering, almost completely covered head to toe from the oncoming sun. Next, I need to invest in some wellington boots as my runners get covered in muddy clay. It takes about an hour and a half to water everything and I start dreaming of automatic water systems. One day, one day.
The temperature is good in the morning and stays reasonable for the rest of the day. I, however, have to retire with medicine for a nice siesta.
The siesta soon became a full nights sleep, again, broken often by coughing. But we’re up and at them at 6am again stopping off at a little shop that has been running for 45 years with just a slim menu involving tea, coffee, toast and eggs. It’s brilliant and cheap but doesn’t do enough for me as we get to our house and Amy does some supervising and I fall back asleep on a deck chair on the terrace. I have nice dreams and awake delirious before driving back home and sleeping even more, until it is time for us get prepared for our next little journey to the UK, to farewell my mother and catch up with family and friends.
So now I’m taken to writing about this place that I live cos it’s meant a lot to me.* Let me describe some the two places me and my love shared before we came here, just to balance out the picture for you.
Well, December 92 saw me move away from mamas castle and seek out life on my own – find out what it’s all about and all that. Best way for my unsure legs to find some security was to live with people I knew so I prepared myself to live with mad Mick, a boyfriend of a friend that I’ve long known. Together we had to prepare his house for my arrival as there was already one other living there (drunk Rich) and not enough bedrooms.
Now, this house was mid-terrace in the centre of town (or near as dammit – just a spit from all facilities one could wish for, pub, chip shop, late corner store, town centre and hospital!) At the front was a main road, facing more houses and an old folks community Centre. At the rear a yard with a kind of singletrack service road and the backyards of the houses on the other side.
I was to have the big front bedroom that looked over the main road. Mick and Rich were not great housekeepers but that was fine with me. Many drunken nights had taken a toll on the house and its possessions – though plenty more were to come.
So it was Mick and I chop the living room in half by erecting a wall in the middle – a wall we were proud off because it stood and we didn’t believe it would! The kitchen and the bathroom both got our attention too though enthusiasm waned for DIY as time passed by and I moved in.
My room was the exception of the house tidywise as I cleaned it thoroughly before moving in and can sometimes be bothered to look after myself in that way. As the DIY got slated in favour of wild nights out some rooms became difficult to traverse. The Black & Decker workmate would often have to be negotiated to enter the kitchen or the bathroom. At one time the bathroom floor was awash with wood shavings and dust and even when clean and finished, the carpet held the dusty dullness. This was not a worry for us young active men who had no time to such activities as tidying up and our house (I could now call at ‘our’ house) was prone to the ‘let’s go to Mick’s’ after the pub closed syndrome i.e. it was a party house.
After only one month here I met my love (I knew I would) and after two more months (and a lot more story not yet wrote) she moved into my room. We were blissful and our surroundings did not bother us. Drunk Rich’s girlfriend moved in too.
As spring turned quickly into summer (I remember summer coming early) we’d all often sit outside for breakfast on any of the many cable drums I had deposited in the backyard as furniture. We’d chat lazily and plan the day in the hot sun. The summer wore on and my love and I made the decision to save up and leave the country – this we decided was not going to be an easy task in such a madhouse, and with that, with many other personal reasons, we up’d all our possessions into Pete and Catherine’s next door!
They both seemed reasonable people and not such drunken unreliable maniacs. This time we shared a back room a lot smaller and much of that taken up by a big double bed. This was luxury to us as we’d been squeezed into a single bed next door for several months. And so it was we slept most of the time on one side of the bed!
Not all our possessions would fit in the one room so we took up some of the spare too. This is where I think our first problem arrived. Most of my stuff was in that room and I’d spent much of my time there are my sweetheart would occupy herself in the bedroom. The kitchen too was small and the bathroom, though having the best show ever, being built as a downstairs extension, soon produced great mushrooms of mould. Though glad of a change in circumstance I felt this move may not have been a good choice.
Most nights we’d all sit together watching TV, eating our meals, drinking some beer and smoking some dope and as winter drew in, lit a cosy open fire. Though often interspersed by nights out or friends coming round we soon got bored with this and tried to occupy ourselves much more upstairs in our rooms but it wasn’t really working out. We soon got to the stage of going round to our friend’s (Kerry) house every night and spent a horrible chickenpox Christmas there.
We knew then that we had to leave so took to looking for flats or bedsits. Not cheaply priced in this area and not much for your money we were despondent of our situation until a longtime pal mentioned we could move into where he and his girlfriend were moving out from, as they were off to live in a house they’d just bought.
It looks like I didn’t actually get around to writing much about that house in the end. Just this:
Blinding brightness descends from heaven across the viewpoint in my yard, as I sit here and ponder. Here I am surrounded by bricks and mortar, shining pinks and reds in the sunlight and I smile, a beam of happiness. Even though the buildings encroach my view I am here with the trees and the flowers, the grass, and insects buzzing wildly by on their own little lives of adventure. And with the people. Gentle wisps of cloud delicately float by then evaporate in the all-encompassing, unforgiving heat of the sun, our noon Moon. Children play and scream in the dirt road at the bottom of the garden, down a gentle slope.
13th Dec 2025 – I came across this copy of my birth certificate today. I’m not even sure where the original one is now. My first home (apparently), near the river. I’m guessing we stayed here until my dad died a couple of years later. I assume that my mum then took me to the other end of the country to get away from the memories here and start a new life. Hmm – things I should’ve asked my mum, or maybe even did and have since forgotten.
It’s interesting to me how much this looks like the house I lived in during my early 20s. A small two-bedroom semi-detached with a garage. I think it’s a similar colour too but my memory could be playing tricks. Bronwyn also used to laugh at how pale and dull everything looked in England. I had to agree.