jmgoyder

wings and things

A hot Christmas Day

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The first picture is of my nephew and niece over here with my brother from the Solomon Islands for Christmas. As you can see Gutsy9 was a hit! The second is of my mother and brother talking to Anthony (who is unfortunately out of the shot), with an ecstatic harpist in the background.

It is Boxing Day here and warming up to be another stinking hot day. Christmas Day was, as predicted, 40C so I am very glad we had cold crayfish for lunch. I always make Anthony’s mother’s cocktail sauce which consists of cream, tomato sauce, worcestershire sauce and lemon juice – yum. I had purchased four enormous cooked crays and my hands are now covered in little cuts from peeling them but it was worth it.

There were only four of us – Anthony, Ming, my mother and me. We usually do a bigger family thing at my mothers on Christmas Eve, but Christmas Day has always been fairly quiet which is the way we like it. We sat in our only air-conditioned room and ate the crayfish cocktail on our laps. Then Ming served pavolova with cream and bananas and we watched an animated film called Brave that Ming had chosen for the day. Anthony wasn’t coping well with either the heat or the air conditioning and he was extremely immobile but I sat in my usual spot on the floor between his legs and he stroked my hair and kept kissing me on the head, his hands on my shoulders. He loved having Gutsy9 on his lap.

It was indescribably hard to see him off when the taxi came to pick him up and take him back to the nursing lodge but, all in all, it was a brilliant day.

Later in the evening I rang Ants a few times because he was very low and I caught myself thinking about how heartbreaking Christmas Day is for so many and I got a big lump in my throat.

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Harp happiness!

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Ming’s Christmas presents

I am beside myself with excitement about Ming’s main Christmas present. It is being delivered today at 3pm while he is milking the cows. He has no idea and yesterday afternoon we sat outside and played a guessing game and he didn’t even come close – yay!

This is the first Christmas where we haven’t done the pillow case thing. Every year since he was born, we have put a big pillowcase at the end of his bed on Christmas Eve and I’ve secretly filled a matching pillowcase with presents. Then, in the very early hours of Christmas morning, I secretly swap the empty pillowcase for the full one and try (unsuccessfully) to go back to sleep. The Santa magicalness of this faded somewhat last year, not only because Ming was 17 and a little old for this but also because Anthony was so ill and, no matter how hard I tried, those gifts were bought in a state of stress rather than my usual euphoria.The brat was disappointed, I was despondent and Ants wasn’t even well enough to eat the huge meal of turkey, ham and all the trimmings. It was a complete fizzog.

So Ming decided that this Christmas there would be no pillowcase and that, instead, we would all get three presents each. So present 1 for Ming is a book about how to play the harp; and present 2 is a voucher for five harp lessons. Can you guess what present 3 is?

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“C’mon, Mum, have a laugh!”

One of things Ming says to me most often these days is “C’mon, Mum, have a laugh!” So today I will tell a funny story.

Gutsy9, the baby peacock, is now two weeks old and is quite happy to sleep in his box at night as long as he can spend the day on my shoulder. Well, when he was one day old, Ming and I had to go to town to do numerous things and I didn’t want to leave Gutsy9 alone for so long, so I took him tucked into my shirt. Ming had a gig to set up for, I had a lunch date with friends, then Ming had a counselling appointment and I was going to visit Ants (another reason I took Gutsy9 with me – I wanted to show him to Ants.)

Okay, so I dropped Ming off and went to the restaurant. Gutsy9 was asleep inside my shirt almost under my left arm so I kept my left hand on him through the shirt, sat down at the table with my friends and ordered. Gutsy9 was quiet to begin with but soon woke up and chirped, so I took him out and showed my friends who were rather aghast so I quickly chucked him back into my shirt and joined in the various conversations. A couple of hours later I picked Ming up to go to counselling and he’d forgotten I had Gutsy9 so said, “Oh that bloody bird – you’re the one who needs counselling.” He was quite nasty and I was hurt.

Anyway, the counsellor had asked me to come for the first bit of Ming’s session so I went in with him but said I couldn’t stay long because of the bird. I pulled Gutsy9 out of my shirt to show her and she looked, well, a bit surprised to say the least. Then we all sat down and she asked me how I was. It never ceases to amaze me how those three simple words ‘how are you?’ can reduce me to tears – which is what happened much to my horror. I said Ming and I had just had another altercation blah blah blah, and she suggested I stay for the whole session but I said no because I wanted to take Gutsy9 to show Anthony.

So I left and drove up the road to the nursing lodge and spent a very pleasant hour with Ants and Gutsy9 then went back to pick Ming up. By then, Ming was repentant but tentatively suggested that I should have some private counselling sessions of my own because he had been helped enormously. I told him I would think about it and we went home.

It was a few days later, when I was telling some other friends about the counselling experience, and they were laughing hysterically, that I realized how stark, raving mad I must have seemed to the counsellor and to my lunch companions!

Anthony, on the other hand, wasn’t the slightest bit nonplussed because he knows me, adores me and accepts me.

So, “C’mon, Ming, have a laugh!”

And guess what – we are both laughing today – yeeha!

Gutsy9 just hatched.

Gutsy9 just hatched.

 

Gutsy9 - 2 weeks old today!

Gutsy9 – 2 weeks old today!

 

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Last Christmas

Last Christmas, my husband, Anthony, was still living here at home. This year, on Christmas day, he will be visiting for a few hours via a wheelchair taxi and then going back to the nursing lodge. I am having a very hard time accepting the reality of what has transpired over the year – Anthony’s deterioration with Parkinson’s disease, Ming’s spinal surgery, me having to resign from my job as a university lecturer, and a whole lot of other stuff.

Tonight, Ming (nearly 19) saw me struggling with my seemingly endless grief and told me that he was scared – scared that I was totally ‘losing it’. That made me cry even more until he said, “Mum, please just let me in, let me help, we only have each other.” Then he vacuumed the inside veranda, cleaned the microwave and refrigerator, hung out the washing and sang one of the songs he wrote this year – You and me, cup of tea – while he was doing all of this.

I have never understood the term ‘griefstricken’ until now – not just my own, but others’ of course. And now I have the flu and am feeling sorry for myself while parents are grieving beyond any grief imaginable. I can’t say any more about this because I don’t feel I have the right to intrude on the already-trampled privacy of the griefstricken.

This will probably be Anthony’s last Christmas.

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Heaven!

Gutsy9: I love it here!

Gutsy9: I love it here!

Could I stay a bit longer? It's only early.

Could I stay a bit longer? It’s only early.

Yay - this is heaven!

Yay – this is heaven!

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Parkinson’s paradoxes

When most people hear the term ‘Parkinson’s Disease’, they tend to think of Michael J Fox and the Parkinson’s that make you shake, move haphazardly or suffer debilitating tremors. Anthony’s type of PD is not like that and is often termed ‘Parkinsonism’. His symptoms have included a dramatic loss of movement. In many ways this is a kinder PD because of the lack of tremors but on the other hand the crippling immobility of brain/body has been a long, slow series of gradual shocks. First his hands couldn’t do things like open a jar of vegemite, steer a car, operate a chainsaw; then his face stopped ‘working’ in the sense that he no longer smiled and he stopped blinking, so that his eyes took on a blank look. I have already written about some of these things in previous posts so I won’t repeat myself.

One of the most noticeable things about Anthony’s PD is his stillness. Before the nursing lodge he would sit for hours on the front verandah in complete stillness. Sometimes he would be so still that the blue wrens would alight on his lap not realizing he was a human. Sometimes he would be so still I would think he’d died. Sometimes he would be so still he would drop his cup of tea.

Well, today I took Gutsy9, the baby peacock, in again to see Ants at the nursing lodge and guess who loved Anthony’s stillness?

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Why on earth would anybody make their blog private?

I have often wondered this because, almost by definition, a blog is a public thing, isn’t it? When I first began blogging, a bit over a year ago, it didn’t take me long to realize just how public this kind of writing is. Comments from friends and family were encouraging and, like many, I discovered I had a ready-made audience. When people I didn’t know (other bloggers) commented, I was initially astounded but gradually I began to explore their blogs and became accustomed to the reciprocal dynamics.

A week ago, I re-started my romance novel blog. Originally this had contained posts about my life with husband, Anthony, then I decided to incorporate these into this blog and the romance novel blog lay dormant for awhile. Then, suddenly realizing I had an already written draft of a novel for Harlequin Mills and Boon that needed editing, I decided to re-motivate myself to do this editing by blogging it, bit by bit by bit. So far I am halfway through and up to Chapter 6.

BUT, when I got to Chapter 5, I was rather shocked to find that it contained some rather explicit erotic material. It wasn’t pornographic but it was odd to read something that seemed to have been written by somebody else. I was in a quandary, so (not having that many followers on that blog) I asked them what to do and it was suggested that I put an “Adult content” warning on any posts that were risque, so I did, and I posted one of these and hoped for the best. Before doing so, I asked my mother to unsubscribe but I forgot that many people who were already subscribed to the romance novel from way back (when it was autobiographical and PG!) might still be reading it.

My dad, nanna and grandparents are all in Heaven, and have been for some time, but what if Heaven has the internet now? And what if my sisters-in-law see the erotic post and show my brothers for a laugh. What if my previous workmates from the university see it? What if  – OH NO! – what if Ming sees it?

Hence I am about to make the romance novel private for a couple of days until I figure out who is still on the reader list. Yes, I am going to do this right now!

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Love story 125 -Needy versus needed

As indicated in a previous post, whenever I get to the end of my tether, the first person I talk to is Anthony – always.

I think it is remarkable that when I am the needy one, he becomes incredibly supportive and completely forgets his own neediness.

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This is Malay, our only remaining rooster. He has Anthony’s tenacity!

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Patriarch

Last night I rang Anthony and, instead of the usual commiserative, areyouokay? conversation, I blathered on about a whole bunch of farm/child/other problems I was having. My blah blah blah went a bit like this:

Can you believe it? The peacock man hasn’t come, I can’t find three of the girls so they’re probably nesting in a paddock or killed by the fox or maybe the neighbour has shot them and I am at my wit’s end!

Ming is fighting with me again; I think we should send him to bootcamp – what do you think? I can’t stand it!

Oh bloody hell now this other thing has happened and I don’t know if I can see you tomorrow because I have to …. argh!

You know that old lawnmower – is it worth fixing? What if it blows up? How am I supposed to figure all of this out? What! Are you crazy? How can you possibily help when you can’t walk – oh sorry, sorry!

Well of course I’m stressed – why are you chuckling? How dare you chuckle!

Yes, yes, yes, I know you love me. I love you too. Can we develop a new repertoire – this is getting boring!

Oh, all right, are you sure? Okay. Yes, I feel calmer now – thanks, Ants! G’night.

I miss the patriarch.

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