jmgoyder

wings and things

Embarrassing moments 2

A few weeks ago I had to get help from a computer technician, a surveyor, and a telecommunications antenna installer for various jobs. All three of them had the name Chris, a name I really like, but a name that I will, from now on, always associate with confusion.

Once Antenna Chris had attached my no-longer-mobile phone to a dock to an antenna placed on our roof, I was relieved to once more have a working telephone (since the land-line had worn out, literally). So when Surveyor Chris (who I hadn’t yet met) rang me not long after Antenna Chris had gone home, I raved on about how wonderful he was and thanked him profusely until I realized I was talking into a strange silence. Thinking I had another phone problem, I said, “Chris? Are you there?” and Surveyor Chris said, rather hesitantly, “Yes, but I think you think I am someone else?”

An hour or so later the phone rang and it was Computer Chris to see if he could come over the next day to finish up. Once again, I thought it was Antenna Chris who had left the antenna cord dangling until I tested it out and he had planned to tidy this up by attaching the cord to the wall with a bit of plaster. So I said that would be great and raved on about how wonderful he was and thanked him profusely until he interrupted me by saying, “I don’t know anything about the antenna – I want to finish up work on your laptop.”

Just for the record, I do not have a crush on Antenna Chris; it’s just that I think he is every other Chris.

Surveyor Chris is yet to ring me back.

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Peacock poop

Peacock poop is a bit unsightly when it is found on the top of your newly washed car, your outside veranda, or underneath your innocent shoe(s), but, once it dries, it is easy to sweep away with the leaves. Gutsy9 can ruin the immaculate neatness of this farm and house (ha!) by coming into the kitchen, flying up onto the table and eating whatever is on the table while I hang up the washing outside. Yesterday, she came into the veranda and purred (yes purred!) to Anthony until he stroked her little head. And then she pooped.

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The dangers of driving on gravel

It is nearly two weeks since the night of the accident in which my son was driving with four of his cousins and one friend in the back tray of his ute/truck. My family has learned so much from this, including the extent to which we love and respect each other. Responsibility for allowing the kids to go for a little ride has been shared and discussed, hugs have been exchanged, forgiveness has been a constant source of comfort to all I hope, but self-forgiveness is not so easy – not for me.

Even though I was the only one inside the house and didn’t know that my son had taken off with the kids for a second little ride, I should have already had a rule in place that this was absolutely forbidden. After all, it is against the law to have unrestrained passengers in the back tray of a ute. If I had had this rule in place, this wouldn’t have happened. Why didn’t I have this rule? Because it never occurred to me that my son would do this; he is such a cautious driver and has the reputation of driving like a granny! When they all came back from the first little ride and I realized they had been off the farm, I said to my son, “don’t do that again will you” but I should have said, “YOU WILL NOT DO THAT AGAIN!” If I had said that, this would never had happened. We are all struggling with our own ifonlys, but these two are mine.

What matters here is that, despite all five children sustaining serious fractures, with one still in hospital for some time, the longterm prognosis for all is full recovery, physically. Psychologically and emotionally, I think their recovery may be more complicated but as the young are so resilent, I hope and I pray that they will all unremember the terror of that night. For those in my family, who drove crazily around the outskirts of this country town, after my son’s panicked phonecall, looking for all of them, when they were only 2 kms away, the memories of our fear and horror will take longer to fade.

My son did a slow U-turn on bitumen, and was heading home again when he hit gravel and accelerated a bit, turning the steering wheel from left to right, just slightly, to give the kids a little thrill, and that is when he lost control and the ute fishtailed (I think); he tried to control it by braking, and steering it back, but nothing worked even though he was going less than 40kms.

If he had been speeding, hooning, drinking or a reckless person, this could have been worse. If he had coerced the children and snuck away for a little joyride, against our wishes, this could have been worse. The fact that everyone survived, and will recover, is the thing I tell myself each morning when I wake up to the horror of that night on constant replay.

When driving on gravel, be aware that your tyres only have half the grip they would on bitumen.
When driving on gravel, do not accelerate suddenly, even a little bit.
When driving on gravel, do not brake suddenly, even a little bit.
When driving on gravel, always go very slowly.

Nobody in this family – my beautiful family – will ever hop into the back of a ute again. Nobody in this family – my beautiful family – will drive without caution on gravel roads from now on.

My heart leaps with joy that everyone will be okay longterm, but his post is primarily to warn people of the dangers of driving on gravel, especially in a ute, and to never, ever, let your children get into the tray, no matter how much they want to, no matter how short the ride.

I am so sorry.

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A rabbity argument

Ming and I had an argument the other day about our rabbit plague. He said they were attracted to the wheat I feed the peacocks, guinnea fowl, geese, duck etc. I said, what nonsense – everyone around here is being rabbit plagued!

It was only when I went outside to feed the birds the other afternoon that I realized Ming is absolutely right!

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The Australia puddle and other Spring things

The puddle in our driveway has held the shape of Australia for weeks and weeks and even had a Tasmania, but the latter evaporated a couple of days ago, before I remembered to take a photo. I wish I had, as it might have made me famous! I’ve decided not to get that Australia-shaped pot-hole filled with gravel now, in the hope that next Spring it will once again rain relentlessly and re-create the Australia puddle, with Tasmania, on our driveway. Then I will take lots of photos and have an exhibition and get rich. The reason I didn’t take the photos this time was because it was raining and I didn’t want to get drenched to photograph a puddle (I think that is more for the professionals.)

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A blue wren (very hard to photograph because they are so tiny and so fast!) After several attempts to get him in more natural surroundings, he landed on one of Anthony’s salvaged washing machine insides, that we use for an outside barbecue.
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A rare vision of Uluru looking calm. He is usually feisty, having to compete for the wheat with all the winged creatures.
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G9 in a tree. I have never seen him her do this before (even though I know that, at sundown, she flies up into the wattle trees for the night with all the other peafowl).
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Ming, with the dogs.
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Something wonderful happened today; I became a great-auntie for the first time. A beautiful baby was born and I mean this sincerely because, let’s face it, most babies are quite ugly for the first few days/hours – but not this one! She is exquisite! In respect of the new parents’ privacy, I will ask them before putting any photos of the kid on my blog.

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