Deb and I brunched at Bush Street Cafe. Deb’s coffee was great, my green tea was good. The food was delicious. I had the Caprese Toastie. And something you almost never find in Aotearoa’s cafes and restaurants: the knife was sharp enough to cut rather than tear the food. 🙌🏼

Caprese Toastie and chips.
Bush Street cafe menu.

My lying brain

In a few weeks I turn 68. These days I’m only too aware of how this 68 year old body doesn’t always meet my expectations. Of course, it’s my expectations that are at fault, not my body which has actually served me very well these last many decades.

Yesterday while I was walking along Sledge Track I found it harder going than the claimed “easy route”. I needed to watch my footing on the narrow trail by the river where every downhill had an equal but opposite uphill. There were many steps up and down on this route and I needed to take frequent rests.

That’s when my brain started on its “Other 68 year olds can do this easily” lies.

My brain was quite persistent about how inadequate I was, as if it was some kind of a race or endurance test rather than a simple walk for pleasure in the bush.

One thing this 68 year old brain is though is smarter than it used to be. While that critical sub-brain continued its jibes my more logical brain countered: “What 68 year olds exactly? I know a bunch of people my age who couldn’t do this walk at all.”

J1, for example, has had both knees replaced in the last couple of years and a poor sense of balance. This trail is not for her.

Or J2 who had a bad motorcycle accident a few years ago, crushing one leg. She tripped on a flat boardwalk when she visited a couple of years back. This steep in parts, narrow, rough-surfaced trail wouldn’t be for her.

And other friends about my age who have various ailments, who wouldn’t have made it up the first set of steps.

So, who are these other older folks who would walk this trail so much “better”, according to my critical sub-brain, than I was doing?

Well, there’s my friend L, a decade older than me. But then L has regularly gone tramping throughout her life. She’s spent thousands of hours walking trails.

I’ve spent thousands of hours sitting down honing my computer skills.

What is it that encourages this critical sub-brain to speak up, unashamedly, with its commentary on what we’re doing?

I thought about those many many thousands of hours I’ve spent learning about computer stuff.

I get a great sense of pleasure when I do something “clever” on the computer. I think “I love that I can do this.” What I don’t think is “Hey, other 68 year olds can’t do this”, even though that would be at least partly true, in exactly the same way that some folks my age would have an easier time walking a trail in the bush.

I’ve recently been reading writings by Stoics. Funnily enough, just the day before my walk I’d been pondering on these words by Marcus Aurelius in his Meditations (I’ve modernised the translation):

Practise the things you despair of accomplishing. Even the left hand, in effectual for all other things for lack of practice, holds the bridle more vigorously than the right hand; for it has had more practise.

And more:

Think less about what you don’t have and more about what you do have.

One of the things I’ve learned from listening to episodes of The Happiness Lab with Dr. Laurie Santos is that our brains routinely lie to us.

Thanks to knowing that my brain can lie to me, I understood that the “Other 68 year olds” criticism just needed to be put aside. It wasn’t true. When it came to walking on the Sledge Track, I was just an average person. Some may walk the trail ’better“, others ”worse". And anyway, it wasn’t a competition. There was no better or worse. It was just a way for my critical sub-brain to try to wound me.

“Hah! Your barbs are harmless! Be off with you!”

I enjoyed my walk, and the frequent rests were wonderful opportunities to breathe the fresh air, listen to the birds, look at the greenery.

Abandon your old foolishness like you abandon tattered clothes. You don’t have to think what you thought last year. — The Stoic Emperor

A tree branch across the ground, with light and shadow, vegetation, evoking subtlety.

Yesterday I hiked Sledge Track, an hour’s drive away. I found it harder than the claimed “easy walk”, doing the 5 Km out-and-back to the Swing Bridge in 2 hours, plus several rests. It’s a shady walk through bush beside a river. I’d do it again.

Sledge Track - steps up.
Sledge Track - the swing bridge.
Very tall Nikau Palm on Sledge Track.
Faulds Falls on Sledge Track.

Terrible photo, but it was what I could get. I thought 2 rabbits were playing in the lane way ahead of me. Then I realised one was too long in the body, had something in its mouth, wasn’t moving like a rabbit. I think it was a ferret, a terrible pest in Aotearoa New Zealand.

Long bodied small dark animal on grass in the distance.

And another view of the day before sunrise.

Look at this gorgeous morning — 20 minutes before sunrise.

Bored now.

My little buddy Leo. 🐈

Siamese cat, yawning wide.

Applescript to tidy Black Ink crossword app windows:

tell application "Black Ink"
    set baseFrame to bounds of window 1
    repeat with thisWindow in windows
        set bounds of thisWindow to baseFrame
    end repeat
end tell

-- script by Daniel Jalkut, 15 January 2023

Just one reason @danielpunkass is a favourite app developer — I emailed asking for a way to tidy up Black Ink crossword windows scattered all over my screen. Minutes later Daniel sent a great Applescript solution. 😀

Half a dozen crosswords all over the screen.
My email asking for a solution.
Screenshot of Applescript.

After a few hours the baling machine comes along, sweeps up the cut grass, then rolls it into big round bales, wraps them up and poops them out every couple of hundred metres.

A baling machine behind a tractor going along the rows of collected grass.
The baling machine poops out a bale.
Big round bales in the paddock.

Today the farmer next door was spinning the mowed grass into piles ready for baling.

A machine spins the mowed grass into piles ready for baling.

As usual I was concerned when I went out that Sasha would be stressed. I came home to this! 🐶💤

I’m so ‘something’ that my neighbour has now seen the extremely cryptic and Nationally Critical Matuku-hūrepo, Australasian Bittern at our local lake 3 times, yet I haven’t seen it even once. She gave me permission to post her 2 iPhone photos from a couple of days ago. 🐦

A heron-like bird peeks out of the rushes by a lake.
A slightly blurry bird in rushes by a lake.

This article is chock full of useful info for all users: The real secrets of iOS and accessibility.

The farmer next door is mowing today.

Tractor with large mower attachment moving through the paddock.

I missed the focus on this but still wanted to post this adult and two baby Oystercatchers. 🐦

Dark bird with long ornage bill and two fluffy brown chick on the beach amongst driftwood.

Heh, followed a link on a webpage to this address: h​t​t​p​s​:​/​/​b​-​o​k​.​c​c​ (I’ve added invisible characters to ‘break’ it here) and got to this FBI Seized notice.

FBI seized banner.

Whew, I’ve struggled my way through Meditations by Marcus Aurelius. Translated (in 1862) by George Long. The language is dense so it’s hard going. I’d love to see a modern feminist translation. I’ve clipped a number of pithy remarks though. 📚

Screenshot of title page.
Screenshot of hard to understand text.
Screenshot of several clipped passages.

This post from 11 January 2022 took me by surprise today:

It’s a year since I ordered my M1 MacBook Pro.

I was just thinking yesterday how much I love this Mac. 2 years on and battery life is still phenomenal.

This rather ruffled looking baby bird stumbled across the deck and took refuge in the passionfruit. 🐦

Baby bird sheltering in the passionfruit.
Baby bird sheltering in the passionfruit.