Dearly deleted
Please know that your posts are not deleted, that you are not deleted; it’s just that my email inbox is having a heart attack. I believe this is a common condition with inboxes, but I’m not sure.
Dearly deleted….
Love story 91 – Another world
We’d rented a cottage at Flinders Bay, a tiny, magical little place, consisting of only forty-two tiny blocks – a two hour drive south for us.
“How big is the world?” Ming asked from his car seat in the back. He was three years old. We were only an hour into our journey and I wondered if his question was another version of “Are we there yet?” I hoped not.
“Huge,” I said.
“Are we aweady in the other one?”
“The other what?”
“The other world?”
“Not yet.”
“Yes we are so!” he said with certainty.
“What do you mean?”
“We doan have hunnerts of twees in our world.”
We were driving through a forest of beautiful karri trees and I suddenly realised how weird this would seem to Ming who was used to living on a cleared farm.
A few minutes later we stopped at a parking bay to eat our picnic lunch. The forest towered above us, filtering out the sunlight all except for a few bright shafts that Ming took great delight in jumping through over and over.
“I like this world way better than our one,” he said, decisively.
An hour or so later we approached Flinders Bay and I reached behind to nudge Ming’s leg until he woke up. “We’re here, Ming.” I said, excited myself. “This is Flinders Bay.”
He took his dummy out [yes, I know a 3-year-old with a dummy is bit unusual] and watched silently through the car window as Anthony eased the car down a steep slope into the tiny bay area. The view of the water was spectacular.
“It’s annuva world!” Ming exclaimed. “One, two, fwee – this is numba fwee world! How many worlds is there, Andony?” He always addressed these more difficult questions to Anthony, which was usually a great relief.
“Just one,” Anthony said, still negotiating the steep slope of the road.
“No it’s not!” Ming replied indignantly. “This is numba fwee – I just toldja that.”
I nudged Anthony as we pulled into the driveway of the beachside cottage. “Ming thinks we’re in another world,” I whispered. “Humour him.”
“Whadidja say to Andony, Mummy?” Ming shrilled, never one to miss a whisper.
I gave up on Anthony, who looked perplexed. “Daddy reckons this is another world but he doesn’t know how many there are, all together, Ming,” I said, getting out of the car.
Ming unclipped his seatbelt and threw himself out and onto the grass. “Are we gonna live here in this world now?” he asked, pointing to the cottage. He was so excited he could hardly contain himself.
“No, just for one week, Mingy,” I said, picking him up.
“How big is one week, Mummy?”
Argh! “Ask Anthony,” I said, knowing then that Ming would definitely provide us with a whirl-wind, one-week trip around the worlds!
This was confirmed when Ming looked over my shoulder at the incredible beachfront and asked, “Is this where all the worlds get borned, Mummy?”
I looked at the view through his eyes and said, without hesitation, “Yes.”
Why wait?
I have been so excited about my idea for a Christmas present for Ming who has become so musical over the last few years and is now doing his Certificate 4 in music.
So anyway, he started volunteering at a local school called Djidi djidi Aboriginal school a few weeks ago. Coincidentally, he had become a great fan of Xavier Rudd’s music.
So my brilliant idea was to get Ming a didgeridoo for Christmas. I got it today and have hidden it so I can give it to him later this afternoon. Why wait!
Sneak peak:
Oh I love surprises! Ming knows he is getting a present but he has no idea what it is so I said if he helps me feed the birds and put them away, he will then have to sit at our picnic table and close his eyes until I say ‘okay’!
Excitement makes me a bit incoherent – ha!
For the love of geese and ducks
The gang get very excited when they see me.
They push the guinneas out of the way and rush towards me gleefully.
Their happy-to-see-me honking is deafening!
Their faces are alight with love….
…. of lettuce!
Spot the difference
Here are two photographs (I concede that these are not very good photographs but that isn’t the point of this game). Okay, so you know those newspaper games where there are two pictures that, at first glance, look identical and you have to find the differences? Well, here are two photos that are different from each other in numerous ways but there is only one significant difference. Can you find it?
Tall peacock!
King has finally grown all his feathers back and he likes nothing better than to stand ontop of anything – tables, chairs, roofs – and, here, one of the feed bins, to show them off! He seems to like appearing to be taller than he is.
I love sitting quietly with him in the late afternoons (before being surrounded by Godfrey’s gang). King will take bread from my hand but I am not allowed to touch his feathers; it is an unspoken rule.
Love story 90 – My camellia tree
I think we have over 20 camellia trees here – it is too rainy for me to go out and count them so it’s on my long list of ‘things to do’. Anthony planted most of them when he and his mother and brother first came here (he was 21 I think so it was before I was born and that’s why I don’t necessarily know all the details).
After we got married, he started planting more – I’m not quite sure why and, not being the least bit interested in gardening, I didn’t take much notice. But one day, on one of his rare days off from milking the cows, Anthony coaxed me to hop in the ute and drive one hour north to a camellia nursery called Heavenly Gardens. Booooooring, I thought, as I strapped little toddler Ming into his car seat, but I resigned myself.
When we got there, we were greeted by the owner, an ancient looking woman, almost bent double with a back condition, like an upside down L. She and one of the men who worked there, showed us through forests of camellias while I tried to allay my own boredom by allaying Ming’s. Then, all of a sudden, I saw it, a tree in full flower, each one like a ballerina. It was nothing like any of the camellias we had at home; it was much more beautiful and it was really unusual. My interest sparked, I inquired about it but the elderly woman said it was the only one she had, it was very rare and it was definitely not for sale. Her off-sider pointed out to me that it was planted in the ground and well established so there was no way she would sell it to me.
It came time for morning tea and the elderly woman and her off-sider welcomed us into a shed to share tea and cake and we sat down together while Ming vroomed around the shed with a pretend car. I said to the elderly woman that I was not a gardener but I really loved the tree and, with a twinkle in her eye, she told me that the boys would have to dig it out of the ground, and that she really didn’t want to sell it. “I wouldn’t take anything less than $350,” she murmured, looking into the distance nonchalantly.
“It’s a deal!” I exclaimed. Anthony, who was sitting next to me, had overheard this little exchange and pinched me on the bum, whispering, “Are you crazy? It’s only worth $50 at most. Nobody pays $350 for a camellia.”
But already, the elderly woman had somehow signalled her troops and three men, including her off-sider (who later told us he was a nephew), were walking away from the shed with shovels in their hands. My heart did a grin flip! I pulled my money out of my back pocket and gave it to the elderly woman who smiled softly at me. Anthony sighed and hurried down to fetch the ute. Then he helped the men load the tree on and I shook hands with nephew who told us to drive out and around the side of the nursery. He had a mysterious expression on his face.
Well, we drove around and he loaded three more potted camellias onto the ute. They weren’t the same as my tree but they were still lovely. The nephew said, “The old girl really ripped you off, so this is to make up for it. She won’t know.”
Not long after, we heard that the elderly woman had died and that Heavenly Gardens had closed down. By this time Anthony had planted my tree for me and look at it now – 16 years later!
I am going to pick some now and take them into Anthony at the nursing lodge.
Love story 89 – I miss him
The trouble is I miss him the way he was, not the way he is now. It’s okay, I tell him this to his face and he understands because he misses himself too. My Anthony – just a couple of years ago.
Assertiveness
Daffy: I’m scared, Bubble. Godfrey is approaching me.
Bubble: Stand up straight, Daffy, and he’ll have much more respect for you. Oh, and if he speaks to you, answer in a loud voice, not your usual whisper.
Godfrey: Good afternoon, young man.
Daffy: GOOD AFTERNOON, SIR!
Daffy: Wow, that felt good and he just walked past me – he didn’t tell me off or anything! I just wish I could have looked him in the eye, but I’m too frightened.
Bubble: I can give you daily lessons in eye contact beginning right now, Daffy. Okay, now look at me and try not to blink.
Daffy: I did it, I did it, Bubble! I looked Godfrey straight in the eye for a whole minute. He was asleep but it still counts for my certificate doesn’t it?
Bubble: Well done, Daffy, but I will need to give you a few more lessons [sigh!]
jmgoyder 