jmgoyder

wings and things

Self-censorship

During the time I taught creative writing units at the university, I remember saying to the students, “Just pretend your parents aren’t looking over your shoulder and write freely; don’t censor yourself!” This was very effective in some ways (a lot of powerful writing was produced), but it was also problematic in that sometimes I would become privy to secrets never shared before. So, over time (I taught for nearly 20 years), I changed my instructions to, “There will be no gutspill please!”

Well, blogging is now a well-established form of published writing and self-censorship is probably a conundrum that many bloggers wrestle with. When I began my blog here on WordPress, I used my own name but, in an attempt to be semi-anonymous and private, I called Ming, ‘Son’ and Anthony ‘Husband’. Eventually I began calling them by their real names (with their permission) and I felt comfortable doing so despite some of our situations being uncomfortable.

This week I have had the self-censorship wrestle with myself, yet again, because I was writing about Ming, and I realized that maybe the issues we were having were better kept within our little household. So I deleted two posts (realizing of course that they are still readable via email notification but I offed them from the blog).

But yesterday’s post deletion (my 3rd in two days – how embarrassing) was different. In that post I had related an anecdote that could have been misconstrued as black humor about an issue that is, and never will be, funny. I didn’t receive any negative comments, but I still felt a bit yucky about my anecdote; hence the deletion.

Today, I discovered a blogger whose experience with grief and loss is so profound that it took my breath away. I am yet to make contact with her, beyond following her blog today, but I want to because she has drawn my attention to issues I didn’t want to recognize, not just in my own life, but in the general community.

I am glad I deleted that post.

PS. Internet is only working spasmodically until new modem is figured out.

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Blogging and memory

Yesterday I was going to write about how glad I am that I started blogging back in November, 2011, because otherwise I would possibly have forgotten some of the events, details and emotions from then until now, and I don’t want to forget. But I was having a bit of a blah day so couldn’t be bothered putting the words down and decided, instead, to post the photo of the big red shed because I forgot I had already done this a few days ago. I’m surprised nobody commented on my memory lapse! And if my memory is so bad that I re-posted an already posted photo, then I am doubly glad of this blog as a memory prompter. But I still feel stupid – oh well!

Today I had numerous errands around town so I went to pick up Anthony to accompany me (as I often do now). He sits in the car with the radio on while I hop in and out, drive here and there. First though we met my mother at a coffee shop and, as usual, my ma and I had lots of conversation while Ants remained fairly silent (he doesn’t talk much now). Eventually, Anthony tried to get up out of his chair, indicating he’d had enough, so we left and, as I was putting him in the car, I asked, “How come you got sick of us?” and he said, with sudden articulateness, “Because nothing either of you said was of any interest to me.” As we drove off to the first errand, I could not stop laughing! His sense of humour is so slicingly droll.

The sun is having a hard time getting through the clouds but it is happening, this belated spring. Here are some photos to prove it (and so I don’t forget!)

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It will soon be Spring!

In Spring (only three days away), our Internet will work for longer than 30 minute bursts, I will resume blogging in an organised fashion, it will stop raining, Ming’s spinal problems will begin to resolve, I will get back on my bicycle, bring Anthony home more often, eradicate (humanely) the rabbit plague on this farm, learn to play the harp, continue baking sticky date pudding, grow tomatoes, sit in the sun, be a better friend to my buddies, reconcile with my in-laws (maybe), embrace the birth of my first great niece, get our finances in order, buy some laying hens to replace the ones the fox got, learn how to use the whipper snipper, prune the ancient roses, resume writing the novella, take faultless photos of the birds, dress to kill, hug anyone who is huggable, and use strawberry moisturiser.

Until then, since our telephone wiring is so dodgy, I’ve had the landline disconnected, and am mostly reliant on my Ipad for Internet. I’m not fast with this IPad yet, so have decided not to even try to keep up with blogs, Facebook etc. We are trialling a new modem thingy.

Tomorrow we see the spinal surgeon again to see what can be done to fix Ming’s injury to the titanium. Anthony wanted to come with us, so today I had to explain why this would be impossible with a 5 hour round trip. He doesn’t accept how difficult he is to lift.

To end this higgledy post, I’ve had my first harp lesson! See you in Spring.

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Sinking into self-pity

Sometimes I think that self-pity is necessary, maybe even vital, before taking the next adventurous step into a new page, whatever that page is.

When I told Anthony that Ming had damaged his back, AB’s eyes filled with tears, and that’s pretty much how I have been feeling too for the last week since finding out that our beautiful, heroic son has a titanium fracture (post scoliosis surgery 19 months ago.)

Ming, being the youngest of our father-mother-kid trio, is slightly more upbeat – emphasis on ‘slightly’. The worst thing for him is that he will have to quit his job, milking cows for our fantastic neighbours, a job that he loved.

So, I am going to indulge in some self-pity until tomorrow.

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Blog-cleaning

During yet another short blog break, I’m in cleanup/tidying mode so have tried to catch up with comments, and have visited other people’s blogs unhurriedly and with pleasure.

But I’m a little bothered by a couple of things:

1. I vividly remember re-blogging somebody’s post when I first started. At the time, I didn’t understand what re-blogging was and, as soon as I realized, I deleted it. It was about mothers and daughters. I apologize to that blogger for my ignorance.

2. During May this year, I took a blog break by unsubscribing from the nearly 200 blogs I’d subscribed to. Why the hell did I do that? Now I am still re-finding people. If I haven’t yet re-found you, please let me know!

One beautiful realization is that it isn’t necessarily necessary to engage with every single blog post (especially if the blogger is prolific!) There is no obligatory rule about this and silence is okay – such a relief!

I think, when I resume ‘proper’ blogging, on 1st September, I might do it on a weekly basis, rather than daily. Just until my heart catches up with my voice. So much is happening, and so much is not happening – argh!

Thanks.

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Whoops!

Since my May blog break, I have found it quite challenging to get back on board and am still in the process of resubscribing, replying to comments from ages ago etc. Sorry! I have learned so much about so many things from other bloggers so bear with me as I regain your acquaintances. One of the things I love about blogdom is that it is a very forgiving community. As an expert in the faux pas, I appreciate the forgivingness!

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Ming’s adventure 1

Ming is a big, loud extrovert of a son, but with a soft heart and a philosophical nature. I am so proud of the way he has coped with Anthony’s admission to the nursing lodge, simultaneous back surgery, and my subsequent bout of depression. These have presented him with some very difficult hurdles, like having to quit football, having to wait a year for his back to heal before going for his driver’s licence, having to wrestle with his feelings about Anthony’s deterioration, having to comfort me, and having to put up with the peacocks pooping at the door of his shed because they are so attracted to their own window reflections.

Late this afternoon, after milking, he is driving himself up to Perth (Western Australia’s capital city – 2 hours north of our farm) to see a band called karnivool perform. Even though he is staying overnight at his friend’s place, he is insisting on going to the performance by himself. I wanted so much to go with him (not to the concert, but for the drive – you know, to help him navigate the city) – but he gets furious at the suggestion. “I’m 19, Mum! I can look after myself!”

I feel like I felt, ten years ago, when he went on his first school excursion (a whole week!) I remember that Anthony and I took him up to the local primary school, saw him onto the bus, and I sobbed all the way home. I anticipate that I will want to sob like that when I wave him off in a couple of hours, so I will bite my lip. He has already told me to stop worrying or it will ruin his adventure so I will have to put on a mask of vicarious excitement for him and, as he says, “Stop being such a mother!” He is buzzing with excitement with just a slight hint of nerves. He will be okay. I will swallow my anxiety and give him my biggest grin and hug of confidence. Yes!

I just can’t wait for tomorrow afternoon when he will be safe at home again – our beautiful son! (Some of these photos have been posted before – sorry but I’m a bit sentimental today).

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Two very wet alpacas

Apparently our phone wiring has had the bomb and that is why the home phone crackles and the internet is having so many siestas. I am tempted to let the home phone die and get one of those usb thingys for the internet. I have already replaced my ancient mobile phone with a new one.

It is still very wet so I am practically living in my wellys.

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The alpacas are ambivalent when it comes to the rain. They seem to take everything in their stride, although Uluru looks slightly happier than Okami.

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The camellias are responding ecstatically to the rain. Now, even though I can’t think of anything worse than gardening, I do love the dozens of camellias Anthony has planted over the years. The one with the ballerina petals is the only one I bought myself. I took the first bloom into Ants the other day.

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I’ll take another one in this afternoon. On my way in, I’m hoping to collect a picture I’m having framed for Anthony’s wall. It’s a photo of Ants at around the time I first met him, 35 years ago. Funnily enough, it is not my idea to put this picture on the wall; it’s Anthony’s. I said why not one of our wedding photos, or that one of you on the motorbike with Ming?. But he said no, that he just wanted himself! His self-confidence is certainly still intact; he even got me to blow the photo up to a bigger size!

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So much rain!

It has been raining solidly for over 48 hours, and so wet here on the farm that Ming got the old ute (truck) bogged just outside his shed this afternoon, after milking!

Today I went into town and picked up Ants to take him to my mother’s place for afternoon tea (chocolate pudding that I had made the day before). Several weeks ago, I stopped using the wheelchair taxi for outings like this because I experienced a strange new surge in energy and willingness to take him out. My mother showed us more photos of Scotland, including one of her with the bride and groom.

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Then she showed us some of Mr Tootlepedal (my blogging friend) and his wife. I felt a vicarious sense of pleasure to meet them through my mother. They have a B&B and my mother stayed with them just before my niece’s wedding. She told me that the Tootlepedals, and their house and garden, were just as charming as I had imagined.

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This is the link to the Tootlepedal blog-post that mentioned my ma.

The Wizard of Oz

Anthony said my chocolate pudding was dry (you see, this where Ming gets his tact haha!) But his little highness polished off the rest tonight whilst watching a very serious episode of Home and Away.

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And I am now cooking some soup!

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Blog focus change

I’ve decided to post my tidbits in daily diary fashion – just for awhile – as an experimental experiment This is because, for the last few months, I have lost focus, have entertained too much bewilderment, have been too sad etc. As a result, I kept forgetting each day’s beautiful details. From now on, I will remind myself via the conduit of this blog.

For example: Last week, Ming transitioned from an L-plater to a P-plater which means he can now drive by himself. The joy of his independence has been resonating in all sorts of different ways. Ming drove into town today and the first thing on his list was to visit Anthony in the nursing lodge.

When he got home, he said “Wow Mum it was so much better visiting Dad without you and your stress!”

I understand.

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