jmgoyder

wings and things

The difference between what matters and what doesn’t matter

WHAT DOES MATTER

– Ming began harp lessons.
– Anthony said on the phone this afternoon that he’d been kidnapped, but I calmed him down.
– Some lovely friends came to pick the dying figs.
– Gutsy9 (baby peacock) is thriving despite his wonky leg.
– We found a clock man who has now fixed three of Anthony’s clocks, so the house is chiming again.
– I finished delivering details to our accountant for our tax return from last year.
– I am going to purchase an ipad tomorrow so I can access the internet in Anthony’s room and show him stuff.
– Ming and I are getting on top of the housework/yardwork etc.
– I only cried a little bit today, instead of a lot.
– The blog community is amazing.
– Ming has stopped being so bossy!
– Lots of other good things.

WHAT DOESN’T MATTER

– It doesn’t matter!

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Farmboy 3

Don’t worry – this is not going to become a neverending series. It’s just that today’s incident was so funny.

An old friend of ours, who has a farm nearby, rang up the other day to see if Ming might be available for some odd jobs. Ming said yes so yesterday he had to drive a tractor (which he’s never done before but he learned fast) and today he was asked to come and help a cow who had just delivered a calf.

I think Ming might have anticipated patting the cow on the head or something but when he got back home after around two hours, he seemed a little shaken.

Apparently, the cow was unable to deliver the afterbirth, so Ming was told to reach inside and pull it out. So he did.

The cow is fine, the farmer is happy and Ming doesn’t want any lunch!

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Farmboy 2

Ming was still in nappies when the dairy industry here was toppled by deregulation.

We were just one of hundreds of families affected by this and, without going into the politics, let me just say that it was devastating.

Previous to this, Anthony was a workaholic dairyfarmer (to me, those terms are synonymous.)

It was around this time that Ants was diagnosed with kidney cancer and had to have two operations. Our dairy days were over.

Ming never saw Ants in his prime, never saw Ants working, so he will never know the Anthony I knew.

And yet – and this is wonderful! – Ming is now milking for our beautiful neighbours and has been offered a full-time job as of July.

Like father, like son!

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Farmboy 1

It was about two years ago when our lives (Anthony’s, mine, and Ming’s) altered dramatically. Here is an abbreviated list of events, in no particular order:

1. Anthony’s Parkinson’s became so bad that he required hourly nursing care during the nights.
2. I eventually got exhausted and was hospitalized for a few days.
3. Ming’s scoliosis required surgery.
4. I had to take extended leave from my university job as a lecturer.
5. Ming completed his last year of school.
6. We found that the farming family, whose property adjoins ours, was willing to lease our 100 acres for the correct rent.
7. We withstood the continuing verbal abuse from our previous lessee who we had already kicked off for negligence etc.
8. With Anthony’s approval, I contacted our lawyer to prevent the previous lessee from coming onto the property.
8. We accepted that Ming would have to have surgery.
9. We accepted that Ants would have to go into a nursing lodge.
10. Ming began his Certificate in music and, simultaneously, began milking cows for the same people we are now leasing to.

Our farmboy’s journey began!

Ever since Anthony went into the nursing lodge, and Ming had his spinal surgery, life-as-we-knew-it has altered dramatically.

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Role reversal

Tonight, when Ming and I were visiting Anthony and I was chopping his meal up, Ming said, sternly, “Mum, don’t you eat any of Dad’s food, or you won’t eat your dinner.”

You see, Ming had ordered takeaway pizza for tonight, and he had also ordered me to eat with him.

As Ming drove us home, I said, sulkily, “You’d make a great mum, Ming.”

“Don’t you touch that pizza until we get home, brat!” he said, flicking me a patronizing grin.

Arghhhhh!

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An amazing anniversary!

In just a couple of hours it will be Valentine’s day and the first anniversary of Ming’s spinal surgery. Yeeha!

I have put a few links to that saga below fyi.

Son’s surgery

Recovery

The ‘now’ of before, during, after ….

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377 days

I had to search through my blog to find the date of Anthony’s transition from respite to permanent resident at the nursing lodge. It was January 31st, 2012, 377 days ago.

How could this have happened just a year ago when it seems like a hundred years ago?

How could this have happened over a year ago when it seems like a few minutes ago?

377 days of separation.

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Dreams inside dreams

For the last few weeks I have been having rather dramatic, block-buster-type dreams. Inside the dreams, I am always the hero who knows she is in a dream, but also knows that, in order to escape the dream, she has to either get away from, or else confront, the baddies.

The most recurrent dream is of something preventing Anthony and me from getting married. This barrier is usually a series of verbal and visual ‘stills’ of what really happened (Anthony’s younger brother’s protestations, my bewilderment, and Anthony’s heartbreak). These dreams are becoming so boringly predictable that I am usually able to clamber free.

But last night’s dream was really weird. Inside the dream, I was away at a conference and Ming rang me to say that Anthony’s old girlfriend had dropped in and wanted to stay the night. Then, the next morning, when I got home from the conference, Anthony admitted that he had slept with her.

Okay, so this was all a dream within a dream, but even when I escaped the inside dream, I found myself trying to climb the escalators the wrong way, in an empty airport somewhere in the desert.

I was glad to wake up!

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Gutsy9 learns how to be a peacock!

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Gutsy9 is now outside for his third afternoon in one of the yards. It is foxproof and I check on him every hour or so. The cage is where he will eventually sleep overnight. In one of the photos you can see how his right leg is deformed. It probably always was but he was so fluffy to begin with I didn’t notice and was mostly concerned about his injured toe (which, ironically, is now his strongest toe).

His transition to the outside for so many hours per day is akin to a child in his/her first week of preschool! In other words, I am suffering!

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I remember

I remember when you first winked at me
across the dining room table,
when your mother said I had overcooked the poached eggs.

You were 40 and I was a teenager
so the wink was just a wink of humour,
harmless and not flirtatious in the least

But that wink burrowed itself into my psyche,
made me ache for another wink….

If I hadn’t boiled the grapefruit marmalade all over the Aga,
a second wink might have happened sooner.
Oh well.

I remember when you first hugged me.
It was a week after my father died suddenly and I will never forget
the hesitation of that first hug,
your delight and nervousness,
your big, muscled arms,
my tears on your shoulder.

I remember the evening when you first understood me
as we bantered philosophical conundrums across the kitchen table
while your mother snored gently in the next room.

You don’t remember much of this, your eyes have forgotten how to wink, I banter as you snooze, and your arms no longer have the strength to hug me.

The time may come when you don’t remember who I am,
but I will never forget who you are,
my rock,
my light,
my reason,
my love,
my laughter.

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