jmgoyder

wings and things

Changeling!

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Yesterday afternoon I made a sudden decision to put Gutsy9 outside for the night, so Ming and I took him out to the chookpen, where he has been spending most of the afternoons lately, and put him in the big cage with food and water.

At dusk I snuck out to see how he was coping and sat at a distance, so he couldn’t see me. He was trotting back and forth in the cage and making his little howling sound, but he was also eating and drinking.

Eventually, when I could see that he would cope, I went into the pen, sat on the ground next to his cage and poked my finger through to stroke his head and he made a little trilling sound – happy. And even when I left him, he didn’t howl. But I came back into the house a bit teary.

Well, he was absolutely fine this morning! As soon as I let him out, he galloped after me into the house, straight to my office, flew up onto my lap and went straight to sleep while I did some writing.

He’s outside again tonight, but he isn’t howling – phew! He is becoming a peacock finally and the adult peas have almost stopped pecking him.

Don’t look back, my little changeling.

(Note: the pic. is nearly 4 months ago – G9 is a big boy now!)

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“Playing” dead (don’t worry – he’s fine!)

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Gutsy9 (baby peacock for those who don’t know) likes playing dead and I keep getting a fright! Of course he is not really playing dead, he is just playing.

When Anthony was still living at home, he used to do this (not intentionally of course), and I would find him slumped in his chair, apparently asleep but looking as if he were dead. Sometimes I couldn’t wake him up but he would still be breathing. This happened at least once a day over the year preceding his admission to the nursing lodge. Since then, I have had to get the ambulance three times when this has happened on a home visit.

The cause? Advanced Parkinson’s disease. The cure? None.

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A bird in the bush is worth two in the hand

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Have you ever had a tug of war with your child over a piece of plastic?
Have you ever stopped your child from munching the remnants of a Morteined cockroach?
Has your child ever bitten you hard on the finger in a fit of temper?
Has your child ever smashed your nose with his when you try to put him to bed?
Have you ever had a child who likes to bite his toenails?
Have you ever had a child who refuses the food you lovingly prepare?
Have you ever had a child that prefers rolling around in the dirt to anything else?

If so, you probably have a baby peacock on your hands!

Note: Gutsy9 is a typical adolescent, which is great because he is getting his independence.

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Galloping Gutsy9!

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Gutsy9 is now over 3 months old (photos are from beginning to now). When we go outside he literally gallops after me, despite his crooked leg. This morning I left him inside while I filled the outside ponds because he could easily drown at this age. When I turned the hose off I heard this unearthly howl from the house – quite guttural – and it was him! His voice must have broken because usually, when he can’t see me, he just cheeps forlornly.

What an interesting experience!

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Apostrophes

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Anthony’s wife is Julie.
Anthony’s son is Ming.
Julie’s husband is Anthony.
Julie’s son is Ming.
Ming’s father is Anthony.
Ming’s mother is Julie.

We are each others’ apostrophes.

And Gutsy’s mine.

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Oh the joy of cycling!

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Now don’t get too excited. I haven’t jumped onto the bike yet but I am dressed in my bike riding clothes (an old tracksuit I found which seems strangely snug but it will do.)

Okay, so the plan was to get up at 4.30am and follow Ming to the dairy (around 3kms away) but two things prevented this. Firstly, I didn’t wake up and, secondly, even if I had woken up, it was too dark.

I forgave myself and decided to ride around the block (around 7kms) later in the morning but Ming reminded me that I still didn’t have a helmet. And then I got a terrible attack of hayfever and I didn’t want to contaminate my new bike with nose drippings.

So now that it’s nearly noon, I will probably leave the ride until later when the wind dies down (yes, we are experiencing those awful easterlies that make cycling so difficult.)

In the meantime, here is a picture of Gutsy9 first thing in the morning, just before I get him out of his cot/cage and take him outside to play.

Tomorrow, I will go into town and buy a helmet and a basket to put Gutsy9 in on the bike. This afternoon I will do a few laps of the driveway again. I promise!

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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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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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Anthony adventures

It occurred to me today, while Anthony was home for the afternoon, that, instead of getting all anxious about his PDD symptoms, I/we could embrace this phase as a kind of adventure.

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