Cool kitchen.

After an unprecedented run of nine days over 30°C (and many of those 35°C or higher), we're looking forward to tomorrow's promised cool change. Thanks to our Japanese-branded, Chinese-made inverter split system, we've been very comfortable in the kitchen where the old adage has taken on a new twist: If you can't stand the heat, stay in the kitchen! A new Nobo electric heating panel should arrive in a day or so. Hydronic heating with tubular radiators worked out at over $2200 per room and seems unsuited to our heat-only-some-of-the-house requirement. The panel heater is an experiment, to see if we can make do again this winter. None of the big appliance stores stock heaters in the midst of a hot summer and we were politely told to come back in two months. Fortunately, online stores were more accommodating.

La Valse d' Amelie

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The oh-so-sad tune from Amelie is sometimes heard in our kitchen. Ben played it in our Weldborough cottage; last May in the midst of all the drama. Somehow, despite ill health, that tune came to mind and was solemnly transmitted to his hands on the keyboard. I heard it again today while sitting downstairs. There's a happy polka version which I've never heard him play.

It's like Vietnam only cooler.

Today we ventured out for a few hours to Victoria Street Richmond. It's a busy place and difficult to find a parking spot. Lunch, at a Vietnamese restaurant, was organised by some of my old Monash Uni friends and Ben was happy to come along. Food was reasonably good and inexpensive. Mum's overseas at the moment, in the real Vietnam where it's hotter, busier, even harder to park and the food is more authentic.

Moroccan cotton.

For some time, Ben's been searching for good-quality T shirts, like those he saw in Germany last year, and like Bonds tops used to be before manufacturing went offshore. Today, the postal courier rang our doorbell twice; first with a parcel containing a hoodie and three T shirts made in Morocco and then, five minutes later when he realised there were two parcels for us, another package containing two books from Booktopia. The clothes, though made in Morocco and bought online, came from a supplier in Clayton, about 5km away. The books: a medical book to help us better understand what we're struggling with, and a sci-fi novel to help us take our minds off what we're struggling with.

Kitchen theatre.

The old TV has been replaced by a modest-sized flat screen but we hardly ever watch. Kiki's Delivery Service took five sittings and as many weeks to view from beginning to end. For several weeks we didn't know if Kiki would regain her lost magical powers and it was an anxious time, for the carer that is. Ben has regained some of his non-magical powers; now comfortable to sit and write for an hour or more and, recently, spending an increasing amount of time searching the internet for medical information. Kiki recovered her witch's magic, rescued a friend from a stricken airship in front of an admiring crowd and her delivery business flourished, an ending that made us both smile. (Apologies for the spoiler if you haven't seen it already!)

Torsades de pointes.

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Sound exotic? In French it means 'twisting of the peaks' but it's not a mystical location somewhere in the alps. It's the name of a potentially fatal heart arrhythmia which happens to be the worst-case side effect of the latest medication. For this reason Ben's having a precautionary ECG today, the third ECG since starting on the new meds. The unpleasant side effect of the old medication is gradually disappearing. The potential worst-case unpleasant side effect of the new is far worse, but thankfully rare. Thus far, the new meds are working well and ECG results show no cause for concern.

Music in the kitchen.

Music has returned to the kitchen in many styles and on all kinds of media. Weekly guitar lessons continue.