Happiness | jmgoyder

Annie get your gun!

by jmgoyder

Well last week I finally got my firearms licence and was able to collect Anthony’s rifle from the lockup. It was a rather strange rigmarole which began three months ago when a policeman came to the door and frightened the hell out of me (because I keep getting speeding tickets – another story). He said he had come to seize the guns because Anthony’s licence had expired due to nonpayment of annual fees. I said I had deliberately let that go because Ants was in a nursing home now, so not in any fit state to shoot, and that I had no idea where the gun cabinet key was but his brother probably had the guns anyway. The policeman said he would go across the road and ask the brother and give me a few days to find the key.

So, as the brother did have the rifle, but said he didn’t have the other three guns (an air rifle and two shotguns), the policeman seized the rifle and put it in the lockup place for me to pick up when I got my own licence. Then I had to search for the gun cabinet key. Now you might be wondering why on earth I didn’t know where this was but (a) I have never known Anthony to shoot anything and (b) pre-nursing home, he had a habit of hiding strange things in strange places throughout the house and (c) when the new gun laws came in way back when, we got the gun cabinet and it hasn’t been opened since – nearly 20 years ago!

I didn’t even know what was in the stupid cabinet except I recalled Anthony putting a bunch of antique walking sticks in it (yes, he was eccentric even before the Parkinson’s disease). Anyway, after a 3-day search of all the nooks and crannies, I found a zillion keys, including the one for the gun cabinet.

Inside was one rotting old shotgun (which had to be seized and destroyed) and the walking sticks.

You see, I have to shoot the rabbits before they dig up the foundations of the house. Of course I am not relishing this horrible task, because I love animals, but these rabbits are taking over. Here is one of the bigdaddies flirting with one of the peahens – argh!

I will get a better shot of how MANY rabbits are here tomorrow. If I can’t do it with the camera, how will I do it with the rifle? Oh dear.

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Blogging and memory

by jmgoyder

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!

by jmgoyder

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

by jmgoyder

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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The big red shed

by jmgoyder

Family Grief Happiness LOVE STORY Marriage Parkinson's disease Teenagers Wings

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Going with the flow

by jmgoyder

This afternoon, I went and picked Anthony up from the nursing lodge to take him to the upholstering business that last rejuvenated the three antique armchairs in the living room. Since then, around 18 years ago, the business has changed hands and is owned by a delightful sister and brother. Today we actually found that the exact same fabric is still available, so that’s what Anthony wants.

But now here’s the thing: I don’t really love the fabric and even felt it was a little too dark all those years ago. I would much prefer something a little lighter and less flowery. The decision hasn’t been made yet so we shall see, but what I really like about this experience is that, even though it’s down to me in the end because I’m the one who lives here, I want him to choose, so he still knows this is his home.

When I got home from this mini-adventure (if you care for someone with advanced Parkinson’s disease, you will know what I mean by ‘adventure’), I decided to cook myself some cauliflower soup. It looks gross in the photo but is was delicious.

Then Ming and Blaze posed for me.

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Ming’s adventure 2

by jmgoyder

Well he finally got home just as it was getting dark. He hardly texted me at all, but at midnight I received:

All’s fine as wine summer shine!

Then today he wasn’t answering his phone so, in order to avoid another bout of worry, I went into town to see Ants. Just as I was about to come home again, the brat finally rang to say he was halfway home himself.

As I was about to turn into our driveway I noticed that a young steer was on the road (had gotten out of one our neighbours’ paddocks), so I quickly texted Ming with:

Steer on road.

I was ridiculously happy and relieved to see him again until he said grumpily, “Do you think I don’t know how to steer?”

We have both agreed to improve our texting skills – ha!

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Ming’s adventure 1

by jmgoyder

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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Metamorphing 1

by jmgoyder

I seem to be experiencing one metamorphosis after another, having finally adapted to, and accepted, the way my own life has changed since Anthony went to the nursing lodge.

The terrible sense of loss, and the unending grief, haven’t dissipated, but I seem to have developed/discovered a bedrock of joy, no matter how sad or anxious I get about things. It’s so weird!

Yesterday I tried to describe this to Anthony, while I gave him a taste of my latest baked delight – a date loaf recipe my friend Nicola gave me, enhanced with the addition of glace cherries and coconut butter. The result, according to Ming, was a disaster, and, according to Ants, rather dry, and according to Nicola, almost like her recipe but not quite. Oh well, it is edible and that’s the main thing! I will do her recipe properly tomorrow.

Anyway, I was telling Ants about how my whole attitude had changed and that I felt like I’d fallen in love with him all over again. My euphoria was slightly dented when he responded with a rather lame “That’s good then,” between mouthfuls of the rather dry cake.

“You’re supposed to be really thrilled when I say that kind of loveydovey thing,” I harrumphed, indignantly.

Anthony looked at me, his face nearly smiling, his eyes nearly twinkling; then he reached out and took one of my warm hands in one of his always-cold hands, and said, “You are wonderful. I wish I didn’t love you so much.”

Gutsy9 (pictured) is always a source of cheer for all three of us.

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Two very wet alpacas

by jmgoyder

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.

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.

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.

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!

Animal Birds blogging Family Friendship Happiness joy LOVE STORY Marriage Parkinson's disease Parkinson's disease dementia

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jmgoyder

wings and things

Annie get your gun!

Blogging and memory

It will soon be Spring!

Sinking into self-pity

The big red shed

Going with the flow

Ming’s adventure 2

Ming’s adventure 1

Metamorphing 1

Two very wet alpacas

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