It is now the fourth day of Spring here and it hasn’t stopped storming – ferocious rain, wind, and a very frightened sun that tries to peek out of the black sky and then withdraws again. The whole house is rattling with this extraordinary weather and I don’t dare venture out even though it is already after 2pm. I await a lull so that I can go out and tend to the birds.
Love story 93 – Anthony’s 75th birthday party
Last year, before Anthony turned 75, I decided to throw him a huge party and invite every single one of his friends and relatives. I knew at the time that it would be our last opportunity to do this because of how rapidly Anthony’s health was deteriorating. The party was a resounding success with everyone here at the farm – over 100 people! One of the highlights was this poem, written by his friend, Eden, and read out by his nephew, Andrew. Eden had handwritten it and I now have it framed and on the wall in Anthony’s room at the nursing lodge. Every time I read it, it makes me laugh and cry and laugh again.
Goyder’s Show
So long ago by just a chance
to town he came for drink and dance.
That’s how we met so long ago, and
set the future’s wonderful show.
From Balingup hills to Dardanup flats,
drinking, hard working and fast cars to bat.
Like the “G.T.” roaring from “Bythorne’s” gate,
only shortly after to meet its fate.
The “A9X” would do no such thing,
It was far too precious with all its bling.
The shake of his hand is a law to abide,
welcoming many to “come inside.”
The kitchen table like a rock to the land,
a tea or a beer always at hand.
The AGA sits with pride of place,
the warmth of its glow etched in his face.
Cows in the shed, calves on the chain,
Shorts, teeshirt ’n boots he’d tend to them for gain.
The hours long and days of repeat,
milk quota cheques made it ever so sweet.
The “Inkys and Docs” were to provide for a stash,
when times were hard and the beef market crash.
That’s breeding the dachshunds should you not know,
just another chapter in this wonderful show.
Loyal to his siblings, workers and friends,
Arthur and Ken, the incredible men.
Side by side, intuitively so, Anthony Goyder
would give them a go.
So many shared his trust and kind ways,
so many fortunate come what may.
Somewhere in the midst came a wife and a son,
a job in the waiting, which had to be done.
They’re the pride of his fleet and ultimate test
To his boyness manner and youthful zest.
A husband sincere and ‘King of the Dads’
Menzies his son, such a fortunate lad.
‘His Royal Highness’ of Paradise Road,
is always there to share the load
of a mind stressed or persons ill,
he’s always kind and full of will.
Not father, brother or simply friend
but something of each his curious blend.
This man would show the way of right
and steady the wrong of which I might.
These qualities not destined at birth,
but earnestly found as he treads the earth.
This bloke of endless humour and wit
has a soulful nature blended from grit.
Should a scrap of fight I had to go
I’d have Goyder on side and not as foe.
The hard hits he’d take for all his mob,
then wryly smile and say good job.
His humour and wit come to the fore
exclaiming “they missed the Goyder once more!”
A yell to his mates would be “grab us a beer,
let’s get out now with something to cheer!”
In 25 years it’s cheers we will,
the time going by like the ring of a till.
With Queen’s telegram he’ll calling us back,
for a drink and a yarn at the “Bythorne Shack.”
“A Queen’s telegram! I’m one hundred you know.”
I can’t wait for that in his wonderful show ….
Me on the left and Ants on the right as the poem was being read out.
Love story 92 – Upbringingness, Andony and popcorn
“Danny and me is gonna get marrieded, Andony,” Ming pronounced after watching Three Weddings and a Funeral with us one Saturday afternoon.
“Are you just?” Anthony said, bemused. “When?”
“When we get all growed up – probly next year.”
“Who’s Danny?” I asked. Ming had never mentioned him before.
“He’s my bestest, bestest friend in the whole wide world.”
“I thought Dillan was your best friend,” said Anthony, passing me the popcorn.
“He is, Andony!”
“So why are you marrying Danny?” I asked.
“Because Danny and me hates girls.”
“But I’m a girl,” I said, indignantly.
Ming giggled, hysterically. “No you’re not, Mummy – you’re a woooomin.”
“Girls grow up into women, you know,” I said, passing Ming the popcorn.
“Oh.” It took Ming awhile to absorb this, but even when the penny dropped, he resumed laughing – (rather unkindly, I thought later.)
“Is Danny a new boy?” asked Anthony.
“He ownee comeded yesterday, Andony,” Ming said, his eyes alight with the elation of having made this new friend.
“Pretty quick courtship, then,” Anthony muttered to me, grinning.
“We don’t wanna do it like that vidido .”
“So how are you going to do it – the wedding?” I asked, intrigued.
“Jus out in the forest, just in a fort. We can build it.”
“Sounds quite nice,” I said. “You better invite him over.”
“NO!” Ming exclaimed, looking worried, and passing Anthony the popcorn.
Anthony and I glanced at each other, mystified. “Why not?” we said, in unison.
“He’s too special.”
I told my friend, Sue, the next day, over coffee, thinking that she, too, would see this as cute. I’d forgotten about her conservative streak.
“You need to put him straight, Julie,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s not natural, is it?” She frowned.
“It seems okay to me. He’s only four. Actually I think it’s quite beautiful,” I said.
“But what about, you know, the implications? Don’t you think you should explain that marriage is between a man and a woman and not … you know?”
“For goodness sake, Sue, he has a little-boy crush on another little boy. You’re making it sound like it’s somehow wrong.” I was getting annoyed.
“There are issues here, Julie,” Sue retorted.
“What – like he and Danny might grow up and find they still want to get married?” I laughed. “It’s not likely is it? And who cares if it is!”
“Well it’s much likelier if you don’t put a stop to it,” she said adamantly.
We finished our coffees and parted, agreeing to disagree.
When I told Anthony about Sue’s disapproval he roared with laughter. “Probably a bit homophobic, poor thing,” he said.
I hadn’t even thought it through to that extent – it seemed ridiculous to do so, but the really great thing Anthony and I discovered inside ourselves was an acceptance of whatever path Ming chose to take, sexually.
But I’ll never forget Ming’s words to me, back when he told us about getting married.
“I reeeelly love Danny, Mummy – way up to the sky.”
[Note: Sue doesn’t like popcorn]
Hilarious hindsight
During Anthony’s rather difficult Father’s day visit yesterday, there were a few moments of enjoyment (but only in hindsight). As I was hobbling around the kitchen using one of his walking sticks, and his nephew was trying to get Anthony to turn his walking frame around in order to sit down, Ming gave me a look of utter confoundment and withdrew to his room. I can’t say I blame him.
Once I put my boots on, my sore ankle steadied itself so I abandoned the walking stick for a slight limp as I poured teas, coffees and whiskeys for Ants, his nephew, another friend and me. Nobody seemed to care about my sore ankle as all the attention was focussed on Anthony who was a bit silent and slumpy, so instead we chased a few conversations around the room, had a few laughs and, when it came time for our visitors to go, I got up, winced with pain and said, petulantly, “How come nobody cares about my ankle?”
Suddenly, Anthony emerged from his silence and said to his nephew, “There is always something wrong with her!”
Hilarity filled the kitchen and I gave him a huge hug.
Oh no!
It’s Father’s Day today and Ants is being brought home by one of his nephews in about half an hour.
The trouble is that yesterday I somehow twisted my left ankle so badly that I can hardly walk, let alone drive.
Luckily the house is full of walking sticks!
Spring has sprung
It’s the first day of Spring over here and I want my heart to gallop with excitement but it won’t cooperate. Yesterday afternoon Ming and I had one of our serious talks. These always resemble the kind of discussion a grandfather might have with a small child (Ming = the grandfather; Julie = the small child).
Now it’s not particularly pleasant to be scolded by your teenage son but after much to-ing and fro-ing of our discussion, Ming finally summarized things by saying, “Mum, I just want you back the way you were. I want us to have fun again, I want you to be happy again.” (This was after he told me my office was an appalling mess).
“Is it Dad or me who is stopping you?” Ming asked.
“It’s Anthony, Ming. I just can’t seem to adjust. Come on, give me a break – he’s only been in the nursing lodge for six months. Give me a chance to breathe my grief!”
“You’ve been doing that for too long already, Mum. Please stop. We have to get this place in order – you have to help me!”
“Oh you’re not going to say that dreadful word again are you?”
“Yes, Mum. Teamwork, teamwork, teamwork!”
“Poo, poo, poo!” I retaliated (Ming loathes that word).
Anyway that was yesterday and now it is today. I just saw a blue wren and I am going to vacuum the inside veranda and it’s raining but sunny and later on I will go see Anthony and I will not cry when I get home again because if I do I will have to suffer another Ming discussion.
It’s the first day of Spring here and my heart has begun to walk again. I hope Ming doesn’t get too much of a shock!
Dearly deleted
Dearly deleted
Please know that your posts are not deleted, that you are not deleted; it’s just that my email inbox is having a heart attack. I believe this is a common condition with inboxes, but I’m not sure.
Dearly deleted….
Love story 91 – Another world
We’d rented a cottage at Flinders Bay, a tiny, magical little place, consisting of only forty-two tiny blocks – a two hour drive south for us.
“How big is the world?” Ming asked from his car seat in the back. He was three years old. We were only an hour into our journey and I wondered if his question was another version of “Are we there yet?” I hoped not.
“Huge,” I said.
“Are we aweady in the other one?”
“The other what?”
“The other world?”
“Not yet.”
“Yes we are so!” he said with certainty.
“What do you mean?”
“We doan have hunnerts of twees in our world.”
We were driving through a forest of beautiful karri trees and I suddenly realised how weird this would seem to Ming who was used to living on a cleared farm.
A few minutes later we stopped at a parking bay to eat our picnic lunch. The forest towered above us, filtering out the sunlight all except for a few bright shafts that Ming took great delight in jumping through over and over.
“I like this world way better than our one,” he said, decisively.
An hour or so later we approached Flinders Bay and I reached behind to nudge Ming’s leg until he woke up. “We’re here, Ming.” I said, excited myself. “This is Flinders Bay.”
He took his dummy out [yes, I know a 3-year-old with a dummy is bit unusual] and watched silently through the car window as Anthony eased the car down a steep slope into the tiny bay area. The view of the water was spectacular.
“It’s annuva world!” Ming exclaimed. “One, two, fwee – this is numba fwee world! How many worlds is there, Andony?” He always addressed these more difficult questions to Anthony, which was usually a great relief.
“Just one,” Anthony said, still negotiating the steep slope of the road.
“No it’s not!” Ming replied indignantly. “This is numba fwee – I just toldja that.”
I nudged Anthony as we pulled into the driveway of the beachside cottage. “Ming thinks we’re in another world,” I whispered. “Humour him.”
“Whadidja say to Andony, Mummy?” Ming shrilled, never one to miss a whisper.
I gave up on Anthony, who looked perplexed. “Daddy reckons this is another world but he doesn’t know how many there are, all together, Ming,” I said, getting out of the car.
Ming unclipped his seatbelt and threw himself out and onto the grass. “Are we gonna live here in this world now?” he asked, pointing to the cottage. He was so excited he could hardly contain himself.
“No, just for one week, Mingy,” I said, picking him up.
“How big is one week, Mummy?”
Argh! “Ask Anthony,” I said, knowing then that Ming would definitely provide us with a whirl-wind, one-week trip around the worlds!
This was confirmed when Ming looked over my shoulder at the incredible beachfront and asked, “Is this where all the worlds get borned, Mummy?”
I looked at the view through his eyes and said, without hesitation, “Yes.”
Why wait?
I have been so excited about my idea for a Christmas present for Ming who has become so musical over the last few years and is now doing his Certificate 4 in music.
So anyway, he started volunteering at a local school called Djidi djidi Aboriginal school a few weeks ago. Coincidentally, he had become a great fan of Xavier Rudd’s music.
So my brilliant idea was to get Ming a didgeridoo for Christmas. I got it today and have hidden it so I can give it to him later this afternoon. Why wait!
Sneak peak:
Oh I love surprises! Ming knows he is getting a present but he has no idea what it is so I said if he helps me feed the birds and put them away, he will then have to sit at our picnic table and close his eyes until I say ‘okay’!
Excitement makes me a bit incoherent – ha!
jmgoyder 