Posts by Ruben Hillier

Ground zero, version 8.0. Welcome back.

Nurse Futures

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I’ve been a registered nurse for a mere six months now and am very aware of my ignorance. University did not teach me about the paperwork and associated procedures to arrange things like outpatient xrays. However I know I’ll figure that stuff out with experience. In the meantime I worry that some of the stuff I enjoyed learning about at Uni is going to fall out of my head. A lot of the stuff I was taught at Uni was probably a bit ahead of where we’d begin as n00b nurses. Nonetheless I’m starting to consider post-grad study/options. Some starting points:

In the meantime I intend to study bits and bobs in my limited spare time. Using HETI and associated services:

Markup Cheatsheet

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My blog is currently built with the help of the now defunct Octopress. I intend to switch to Jekyll when I can be arsed. I write posts using John Gruber’s Markdown. As I write so infrequently I will maintain this brief cheatsheet to remind me of the syntax.


An [example]( "Title")

An example


![alt text](/favicon.png "Title")

alt text


# Header 1

Header 1

## Header 2

Header 2

###### Header 6
Header 6


*   Abacus
    * answer    
*   Bubbles
    1.  bunk
    2.  bupkis
        * BELITTLER
            * knob
    3. burper
*   Cunning
  • Abacus
    • answer
  • Bubbles
    1. bunk
    2. bupkis
        • knob
    3. burper
  • Cunning


> Email-style angle brackets
> are used for blockquotes.

> > And, they can be nested.

> #### Headers in blockquotes
> * You can quote a list.
> * Etc.

Email-style angle brackets are used for blockquotes.

And, they can be nested.

Headers in blockquotes

  • You can quote a list.
  • Etc.

Code Spans


<code> spans are delimited by backticks.

You can include literal backticks like `this`.

`` `this` ``

You can also indent every line of a code block by at least 4 spaces or 1 tab.

This is a preformatted
code block.

Horizontal Rules

Three or more dashes or asterisks:


* * *

- - - - 

Manual Line Breaks

Just end a line with two or more spaces:

Roses are red,   
Violets are blue...

Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
This blog is crap
and so are you

Seventeen Months Is a Lifetime

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According to the Wayback Machine has been running my blog for over 16 years now. So, maybe not posting anything for almost a year and a half is OK. It’s not that I have nothing to say, it’s just that I’m not sure you need to hear it.

A lot has happened. In short I have left behind my previous life and found a new one. All the old reference points have been rearranged. I’ll not dwell on it, you can figure it out.

Red Wedge 1918

Thanks Mr White

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I’ve been ramping up my running lately. It’s a type of meditation. Sometimes I just run. Other times I run and listen to music or podcasts.

Yesterday I went for a tempo run in the rain. I listened to the album, “Rave On Andy White” and entered my usual running dream/pain state. I thought of the inspirations I attached to these songs over the years. I thought how those inspirations morph into reminders. Sometimes they are just reminders about the stupid things I used to get inspired about. Other times I am reminded about the type of person I wanted to be.

Andy White sung about Reality Row like it was a bad thing. Maybe he is right?

I think he rather fancied himself as a ‘WockStah’ as he walked down Six String Street in a Groovy Kind of Way. Despite Andy being a bit of a narcissistic wanker I’ve always loved his cheerful tunes. Show me someone without a crazy self-centred dream and I’ll show you a dull ass. Andy liked to pretend to be some sort of romantic version of Bob Dylan or an Irish version of Billy Bragg, some say he is. I wore out several of his cassette tapes over the years and I always love rediscovering his pop-with-a-hint-of-politics but mostly silly-romantic. Which probably about sums me up.

Here is a picture of me in the midst of a depressing and life changing time in 1990-ish.

I was probably recently returned from or soon to go to one of the many music festivals around at the time. I remember the Fleadh at Finsbury Park and the FĂ©ile in Tipperary. I am sure I was listening to Andy White when Neil, Gareth or Lizzy snapped it.

So, the run was shit. I could barely walk to the bog last night. Andy, as always, was good company on my crap journey. He helped me crack open a few insights along the way. Thanks for that Mr White.

The Granny in Oz

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My Ma recently arrived home in chilly Totnes. I loved having her staying with us for the tail end of our summer.

We had lots of fun cycling and walking around the beaches, town and village. I had been worried she’d be too hot but I think it was mostly pretty good. There was the obligatory few rainy days but it was mostly blazing sunshine.

I posted some photos on FB, for those that choose not to partake of the electronic crack, here are some of those pics.

Win’s Thai Kitchen Menu

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As many of you know my fabtastically hard working partner in crime works at Win’s Thai Kitchen.

A wildly popular place which gets very, very busy, especially on the weekends. When a queue of customers is waiting to pay or order and the two woks are crashing and sizzling away the staff are working flat out to keep up with the rush. The phones are ringing off the hook, it can be really difficult to hear the caller.

So, here is my advice to the discerning phone order customer, choose exactly what you want before ringing. Just to help I have posted a picture of the current menu below. If you find it hard to read grab the original pdf here or click any of the menu pictures below.

Alien Terror and Weather

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Em and Ev had been talking about the Alien movies for quite some time. Em decided it was time for him to brave the terrors. Last night we stayed up and watched the first Alien movie. Em had never seen it before and was slightly terrified throughout. His older brother Ev was unsympathetic.

When the alien baby was being birthed out of John Hurts’ belly Ev was admonishing Em to keep his eyes open and unblock his ears. He went on to tell of his stalwart bravery when he first watched Alien. I let Em bury his face in my chest and put my arm around him. I remembered Ev’s sheer terror at seeing ET hiding amongst the cuddly toys.

It’s now Tuesday morning, ten to nine. The sunny spell has been broken with a night of thunderstorms. The rain is blatting on the roof like machine gun fire. Like most mornings of late, I had intended to go for a run. It is not very appealing in the sweltering heat nor in a cold hard deluge of rain.

My Ma is probably enroute to Australia by now. No doubt her departure triggered the thunderstorms last night. We have had almost two months of beautiful weather, admittedly far too hot. It has been the kind of weather that is good for barbeques on the back deck, swimming and kayaking in the creeks and surfing off the headlands. My favourite being evening strolls into the village with the smell of jasmine. I have been mostly laying in hammocks and sofas on our back deck reading books or going running. I’ve had occaisonal visits from friends, we generally talk about books or complain at the heat. When the weather turns inclement the back deck becomes a cold place of misery. The grass grows even more rapidly, it cannot be cut. Even the dog refuses to wade through the wet tufts. The tin roof amplifies the impact of every rain drop making conversation difficult. Even listening to the radio becomes an ordeal. The forecasters are saying this rain has been a long time coming and we can expect it to stay. Sorry Ma.

I’m going for a run anyway.


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The Gift That Keeps On Giving

The Brisbane summer has been hot and humid. Clothes sticking to sweaty skin and fresh cut watermelon turning sour within ten minutes of leaving the fridge.

It started with the dog. She could not look at anyone and hung her head in shame, “Poor dog, you must have eaten something bad”.

We cleaned the mess and went out visiting everyone for Christmas. By the time we got home Ev was complaining of sulphurous burps and ominous gut rumblings. The next day he declared it must be Ebola but was still able to drive the six hours home.

We caught up with Ev a day later and so did the gut rumblings. I ignored the symptoms, perhaps I was imagining it. I went running on the beach and fasted for the rest of the day. The heat and humidity of Brisbane had followed us home. The next day after a light breakfast I ran again. I had a minor fall, grazing my knee. My ankle throbbed, then my knee. I was drenched with sweat and the wind felt cold under the midday sun. My guts clenched. It had me.

C rescued me, she took me home where I paced between the loo, the sofa and the shower. Eating nothing I spent the day and then the night reading and feeling sorry for myself.

Lying awake during the night I was remembering a family holiday in Scotland when I was a young boy.

The roof of my mouth was burnt ragged eating thick hot porridge mixed with melted butter and Tate & Lyles Golden Syrup. My enjoyment was cut short by gastro. I dropped my spoon in my haste to get to the toilet. When I came back Z had cleared away my half eaten bowl. Unfinished meals have never again tasted as good as that porridge. I must have dozed off because I was woken by C returning from an early moring coffee with her mate. She was buzzing with caffeine and shortly after began to feel nauseous.

Gastro is truly the gift that keeps on giving.

Happy New Year.

Crappy Christmas

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A beautiful, fantastic girl once gave us a fantastic, beautiful card for Christmas. It was many years ago and is still my all time favourite card. Much love to all our pals and families everywhere.

Enjoy the shopping folks.

13 Years Ago

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Thirteen years ago I missed out on being in this family pic. Next year I hope to complete my Nursing degree and a year after that I hope to complete a Post Grad year. Maybe then I can afford a proper trip home.

Two more years seems to be so far away right now.