Merry DXmas [049]

Greetings from the shack...

Dec 24, 2023

Just a short one before the end of the year. There is some partying to be done.

HERE

The shack is tidier than it has been in a longtime. Feels good. The blinds are drawn against the night and I’ve got a glass of port sat on the table beside me. Tastes good.

I’ve put on a Joni Mitchell record, placing the needle on the track River and after a brief QSO on HF I can now hear the gentle whine of FT8 under the music. Sounds good.

THERE

Earlier in the week I was out on a muddy dog walk and while crossing a field in the middle of nowhere, I spotted some legs poking out of a ditch. As I got closer my first thought was it was its strange place to be taking a rest. I was chatting with G0FIJ on the local repeater and as I got closer I realised someone was in difficulty and relayed a quick message to Mish and told her to stand by. I was pinging APRS but there would be little chance of anything other than a helicopter getting to the location.

One of the wellington boots twitched as I got closer and when I arrived I saw that a woman in her senior years had slipped on the wet mud and fallen headfirst into a thicket. As I assisted her up, out and back onto her feet I could see she was bleeding from the bridge of her nose. But after cleaning her up I could see that apart from being a little shaken with a scratch on her nose, she was more embarrassed than injured.

I recognised her. Every time I take this route she is either passing one way or the other. Head down and forging onward. She always stops for a moment to fuss my dog, nod a hello and then power on. But today we made time to chat.

I put a call out to Mish saying that the situation was not serious and I’d be back in touch in a bit, then arm in arm the lady and I walked towards more stable ground. We swapped names and she asked about my radio. I gave a brief explainer and she said she was glad I was walking the same path. She told me that she had walked the same path daily for many years. Six kilometres to an isolated bench and back. Over 2000km a year. She’s only fallen over once before.

“Not bad for 95 years old.” She said with a smile.

“Wow.” I said. “You are not wrong.”

When we got to paved road she tapped me my hand, let go of my arm, thanked me and strode off. As she powered on she called back.

“My daughter is always telling me to slow down. But that sounds boring.”

I could almost hear a cheeky grin. Me and the dog followed at a distance to check she got home safe. But there was no need. She was the youngest old person I’ve ever met.