A Walk to Westfield Shopping Town

 Tired juggling looking after my elderly mother, maintaining a house and a garden, I opted to leisure walk from my house to Westfield Shopping town.

I used to do this during my working days.  The main reason was to maintain a good blood sugar level without having to take any diabetic medication.

This walk normally would take me 40 minutes—if it is not a power but  leisure walking.I usually enjoyed this walk because along the way, I always had the chance to meet and interact with my friendly neighbours.  In my street, lives three Aussie women I usually talk to—one is Jenny and the two others are Rose and Edna. In the corner perpendicular to my street lives Jim and Lily, a lovely couple who came originally from Malta. Jim gave me red rose plant to welcome me to the neighbourhood from day one and he also was the one who gave me bay plant. Lily dropped at my door limes and another plant which did not thrive in my garden. Further down their street lives Baby, Linda and Josie. Still far out the road used to live Jaime. Josie is a keen gardener like me and we usually share gardening notes. I remember Jaime most for his 5 voracious dogs. Along the main road lives a lovely Aussie lady called Rosemary who asked me to visit her church one time.  Off the main street live an Italian lady called Christina whom if I meet in the main street I used to walk with to Westfield and a German lady called Therese who always preferred to take the bus.

It was a quiet walk for me.  I could not see any of these people I mentioned above. I thought I must be a bit late for the walk. That is, as I had to hang out a big washing first before I could leave the house.

Besides gazing at the clouds or watching the birds that fly from tree to tree or alight on the ground in search of a feed, looking at the gardens of each house along the way is one thing I enjoy as I walk, which for me is like a learning experience.  I study what people plant and which ones thrive. I also observed how people shape their gardens so I could have some tips on how to improve my own garden.
 

One owner grows four or five mango trees which amazingly are now heavy laden with fruits. As far as I could remember, it was not even like four years when they first planted them and now they are flourishing.  Another owner has really beautiful tulip garden.  I wonder why I couldn't have one.  I tried growing tulips which flowered once but did not come back the following season. Still another owner's crepe myrtle  is bursting with pink blooms!  I wonder what their secrets in all these.  I thought it should be the good soil and fertiliser.-Well, I don’t have good soil at the moment and in general I don't fertilise, but just regularly add organic matter to the soil in my garden. 

In the long run, it does not really worry me, though, if my garden is not as good as anybody else's... I just have to be patient and I know eventually my garden will be  beautiful too---one day!. My next neighbour's whose garden is really beautiful and neat said it took them 30 yrs to establish their gardens.  I am not even 30 years in my house!

As I mused along garden thoughts, I remember the people in the neighbourhood whom I met--mostly elderly and are now deceased, who were also keen gardeners.  There was Simon (pronounced with a short i, because he was  from Ukrinia) who gave me dama de noche, which now grows in my garden; Arthur a Latvian who gave me radishes, cucumbers and really big tomatoes and Ces, an Aussie man who gave me various annuals which I no longer have now. I always told to myself then, I was not even in my 80s like them and here I am—so passionate in gardening! Well the most plausible explanation is I took after Delmar—my departed father!

Before I realised it, before me were two dogs struggling to get loose from the grip of their owner--- to get me! Whoa! Too late then to cross the road and walk on the other side.  I gave the woman a freaking smile and asked if her dogs wanted to bite me.  She laughed defensively and said no.

Of course not! The dogs were poodles and were so beautiful!  Not like that runaway big German shepherd I met one early cold winter morning, at the sight of which I crossed the other side of the road.  Unfortunately though, the big dog at the same moment had also crossed that  side of the road. I was deliberating in my head whether I'd cross back to the other side again. Before I knew it however,  the dog  was already running fast towards me, barking at me unceasingly. What had I done?  As scared as I was, I stopped and stretched my hand rebuking it at the top of my lungs--In Jesus name, flee from me!" And it did! Hallelujah!

No, I needed not be scared this time! Poodles are harmless, I guess.  I remember my first day on a low light studio during a voice over taping job when I accidentally stepped on a lying black poodle.  Surprisingly, it did not complain at all! Probably because I said sorry to her!

I continued walking until I saw a car had just pulled over and someone in it waved at me.  I could not see who the person was because the rays of the sun were glaring. When he came out, I recognised it to be my pastor friend.  Not surprising! because I was passing by right in front of his house. His wife and children came to meet him.  I stopped by as it was more than a year now I have not technically come out of the house.  The pastor suggested I visit to have a cuppa with his wife.   Not a bad idea—after all his wife and I had become good friends riding the same Penrith train line as she attended TAFE while I did some court or hospital interpreting assignments.  But I had to head on... 

I got to that point of my walk where I remember encountering when I was still holding a regular university job in the city at a particular time each early morning someone who resembled Frankenstein (true! gigantic and freaky looking!). After he gave me the impression that he was stalking me and consequently a scare, I took the bus for quite a long time instead of walking.

On this same spot of the road and also early morning, I remember meeting a group of teenage Goth at one stage. There were no other people walking except me and them. I did not freak out nor cross the other side of the road, but just asked God to cover me with the blood of Jesus.  I made it to the shop or train station without dramas.Thank God!

Finally, I got to Westfield, paid my bills and still met all along a string of people whom I used to chat from long time ago. As usual I window shopped for clothes, shoes and fashion jewellery.I did not meet Mercy whom I wouldn’t mind having lunch with, so I decided to go home after I got also the few food commodities and medications I needed to buy.