jmgoyder

wings and things

MAGIC!

Yesterday was a magical day. My cousin and her daughter are visiting from Sydney and staying with my mother so they all came over with lunch. I haven’t seen my cousin for 15 years and it was wonderful! Ming and my cousin’s daughter are the same age and already friends on FB but there’s nothing like face to face. My mother made the lunch and served everyone which gave me more time with the cousins . It was fantastic and I am still tasting the joy of yesterday and looking forward to seeing them again tomorrow before they go back.

After lunch my mother took them to a magical little corner of our countryside called Gnomesville. I stayed home with Ants.

I had had Anthony wheelchair- taxied home for the event but he was mostly withdrawn and became sullen when he had to go back which always upsets me no matter how much I steel myself for it. His withdrawal isn’t intentional; it’s because he can’t focus on more than one thing at a time, so five people conversing excitedly is impossible. I remember when he was being assessed by a Parkinson’s Disease specialist in a Perth hospital, a kind lady who also had PD, befriended Ants and told him about this inability to focus on more than one thing and both Anthony and I realized how true this was for him too. For me it explained why he had become so silent and for him it was reassuring to know he wasn’t the only one to be confused by crowded conversations.

He is getting more and more shark-eyed. You can kind of see it in the photo below which is from ages ago. Now his eyes are often half closed and he looks at me with what seems an expression of malevolence but is really him trying to focus cognitively (well that’s what I think anyway!) He doesn’t know he’s doing it. Ming, on the other hand, appears to know exactly what he is doing with his eyes in an expression of unadulterated sarcasm! The only resemblance between these two sets of eyes is that they are blue.

[Oh, see that little spot next to Anthony’s left eye? That is now the massive skin cancer I was talking about the other day and, yeeha, we finally have an appointment with the surgeon tomorrow morning!]

Speaking of blue eyes, my photos of Woodroffe’s and Ola’s blue eyes yesterday intrigued a few people one of whom was Susan at http://susandanielseden.wordpress.com/

She is a talented poet and I can’t always keep up with her blog because she is so prolific. I suggested she might write a poem to go with the blue-eyed geese and within what seemed like minutes, she wrote this:

blue topaz eyes
chipped ice set in softness–
unexpected jewels

MAGIC!

So I decided to try and find a few more photos of the blue eyes!

And then I found this one. I had forgotten that the geese have an ability to change their eye colour if prompted.

MAGIC!

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Blue eyes

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This wrinkled soul

This soul has developed crinkles like the white linen shirts I used to wear but gave away because I hate ironing.

This soul has developed wrinkles – frown wrinkles – not very becoming at all.

This soul is like a boiled egg – perfect until you crack the shell, peel it off and mush the egg for a sandwich.

A splintered windscreen.

An improbable jigsaw.

This soul has also become argumentative and I am getting really sick of the way it nags, nags, nags; no wonder it has wrinkles.

No wonder it has crinkles.

I know I should probably try to iron out its crinkly wrinkles.

But that would be as stupid as ironing a Sebastopol goose.

I’ll try to make friends with this soul on my way into see Anthony in the nursing lodge.

His soul is much better behaved!

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Love story 100 – Do males always love themselves this much?

Prince (our only white peacock): I just love the smell of my feathers – glorious!

King: I know what you mean, Prince – I love the angles of my shadow on the lawn.

Okay, years ago – well before Ants and I got married and had Ming and well before Ants got so sick – I asked him to explain his arrogant, strutting self-posturing.

He said (and I will never forget it), “Jules, men have to love themselves just in case nobody else does.”

Oh!

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Peacock feathers

To those I offered to send peacock feathers to, I apologize for not having done so yet but apparently each country has its own rules about this kind of gift. So, if you want some, you need to check out your own country’s rules and get back to me and then I can arrange.

King  and the others will be shedding again soon, so I will have plenty. I/we just have to work out the legal logistics.

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Are you there?

Angelina: Are you there, Jo and Terry?

Angelina: Are you there, Robyn and Rhonda?

Angelina: Are you there, BB,CC and WW?

Julie: Angelina, will you stop it! Go to bed. Yes all of those people are there/here – angels like you!

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Butterfly haiku

The utterfly looks

for the B that will heal it

under the grey rocks.

The utterfly has

enormously big nostrils,

like big purple eyes.

The utterfly finds

its missing B in the hug

of an old, old man.

The utterfly finds

its missing B in the smile

of a young, young man.

The utterfly speaks,

sheds its mothy shabbiness,

enfolds its own B …

And becomes a butterfly.

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Mixed messages

Me: Good evening, my beautiful gang!

Seli: Julie!

Woodroffe: Julie!

Zaruma: Julie!

Pearly: Julie!

Godfrey: ABOUT FACE, gang, that vroom herder is coming. Quick, get into the yards!

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Spring storms

It is the third week of Spring over here in the southwest of Western Australia and we have only had one week of sunshine. Today the winds are whipping up, the rain is relentless and the forecast for tonight includes gusts of 100kms – mmm.

The animals get nervous when it’s like this and so do I!

Yesterday, some guys I’ve never met before arrived to chainsaw and clean up the debris of fallen wattle trees from the last storm. In a couple of hours they did what seemed to me to be an insurmountable task and they didn’t even charge very much. They said that if we had another storm, the remaining old trees at the back might fall over too because they are ant-ridden.  There was no sign of today’s storm yesterday – weird!

I think Ming may have organized for them to come (he is very keen to be the man of the house!) but when I asked the main guy, he said, “God sent me!”

I wasn’t sure whether he was joking or serious so I just shook his hand – mmmm!

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Looking up

I’ve been asked a few times now about the rationale behind having so many birds when life is already complicated enough with Anthony’s Parkinson’s Disease, the nursing lodge transition traumas, Ming’s back surgery and subsequent life adjustments. So here is an explanation:

Last year, when Anthony was still living here at home and the idea of a nursing lodge had not even been contemplated, and I was already on an extended leave arrangement from my job as a lecturer at the local university, I decided to do everything possible to make our lives brighter. It began with the guinnea fowl because Anthony has always loved them; then poultry; then the peafowl (that was my idea). We had chookyards built, began to reap the delight of fresh eggs and the guinnea fowl (a dozen) made a very interestingly noisy addition to what had become an overly quiet life.

I befriended all of the birds and, to some extent, tamed them but it wasn’t until that first dusk when I watched, amazed, as all of the guinneas and peafowl flew up into the trees to sleep, that I realized I was hooked. Why? Because for the first time in years I was looking up.

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