Can the real Pensioner please stand up!

Since my last post I have toddled off to Tassie and come back. Now, three days after my return,  I thought I had better put some of my adventures on record so that they are forever  remembered (by my aged brain)and so my sis can see them.

We  arrived in Hobart last Tuesday and, after consulting the anally pre-marked  map, headed off to every op-shop and antique store in the city centre. I hit pay-dirt in the first oppy, this lovely little Italian pot.

I could hardly contain my excitement. Was this an indication of things to come? Was Tasmania going to be the Motherload? I took the pot to the counter to pay for it, trying not to look to smug, but in hindsight,  maybe my expression looked somewhat contorted.  The shop assistant paused, looked at me keenly and then asked, “Are you a Pensioner?”

Well!!! I know that I am not the best traveller, and airplanes do dehydrate one, but really!

I squared my shoulders, (had I been bent over, crone-like?) drew myself up to my full height (of 5 foot 4 and half inches) and chin up, attempting  a withering look, answered with a very succinct and firm, “No.” Halfway through my haughty reply I thought to myself, “Mmmm, maybe she has a vision impairment, and she only sees blurry images like I do. I should be kinder...more of the Lady Bountiful. I shall smile.”  By the look on her face, my smile ended up like some grotesque grimace.

Then I took my fat wallet full of travelling bucks out and with a flourish paid with a $50 note. (It is a pity that I ruined my exquisite rejoiner  by losing the contents of my bag over the counter,  muttering  under my breath like Lady Macbeth and dropping my teeth on the floor. (OK, I do tend to exaggerate a bit.)

here

In the end, I gathered what dignity I could muster and (carefully) exited up the stairs, clutching onto the railing. It is true, I am known for my clumsiness, but jeez, now looking back at it...with my multiple layers, big overcoat, crazy hair, dry skin, unfocused eyes, excessive picking over of the stock,  and dependence on the wall extrusions, how can you blame the woman for her assumptions.

Onward and outwards, not looking back, we headed for a little town in the middle of Tassie called Tarraleah. These are a few buildings on the way. (I love a good roofline!)

This little card box was picked up at a little town on the way...

Accommodation at Tarraleah was marvellous, everything  a vintage lovin’ gal could desire. It consists of about twenty houses which were initially constructed to entice the elite hydro engineers of the time to construct the massive hydro electric infrastructure in the area. They offered every modern convenience and contemporary living design.

Today, the Cottages have been beautifully restored to their former glory and are painted in gorgeous sorbet pastels and decorated in the art deco style. Our cottage had three bedrooms, log fire, big telly, massive original kitchen, complete with inglenook dining, two enclosed verandah’s and a large bathroom.

Tomorrow, road kill, acid rain and nylon nighties.