Until yesterday, I didn’t know if Baby Turkey was a male or a female. Now I know. And he most definitely knows!
These turkeys grow up very fast!
Yeeha!
Husband’s new medical regime seems to be working and he is much better so I just rang him to say I’d pick him up for the weekend and he and I are overjoyed and Son is going to stay at his friend’s place anyway so we won’t have that conflict issue and I better sweep the verandas and get some crayfish and champagne and invite lots of people and dust the house and find my lipstick and find the Blackbooks dvds Husband loves so much and pick some flowers and maybe get a pork roast or a lamb roast and heaps of salad and to hear him sounding so good after the last two weeks of weirdness and stuff is great so I am experimenting with long semi-unpunctuated sentences that end with the words yeeha yahoo hurray but mostly yeeha because that is my favourite word tonight!
Around in circles
Peacocks love to show their plumage and in past posts I have talked about King, our big adult peacock, and shared pictures of him in all his glory. Spring seems to be the time of year they do this the most and it’s fantastic to watch.
So the above photos mystify me a bit. Firstly, this is not a peacock (male), it is a peahen (female) and, secondly, it is Autumn here in Western Australia, not Spring. Nevertheless, this wonderful peahen pirouetted nonstop this morning, just outside the back door. None of her sisters and brothers were around; it was just the two of us.
Wrong way – turn back!
A long time ago ( several weeks at least) I had an early morning routine. I would bring lettuce and stale bread, with my first coffee, and place everything on the picnic table pictured. Then I would let the gang out and we would all meet at same picnic table.
Well, I have broken this routine many times now, due to various circumstances. The gang, however, still live in hope, and sprint, or soar, towards this picnic table every morning regardless of whether I have any treats for them or not!
They are so enculturated into this routine that, even when I am behind them with tidbits galore, they always go to this picnic table first! Just after I took this photo, I said, ‘I’m here, you sillies!’ and they turned around very speedily!
Love story 6: sex
Hahaha! Tricked you!
Sorry, but I couldn’t help myself!
There will be no reference to sex at all in this love story.
I will now write a proper chapter!
Love story 5: first kiss….
… was six years in the making.
Yes, believe it or not, the first kiss happened six years after I first met Husband. I was 23 before he would come anywhere near me!
It was worth the wait.
Momentary
Many millions of moments ago,
I didn’t recognize what a moment was.
Many millions of moments later
I couldn’t catch it – this moment,
and, even if I could, it would probably flit away like an imaginary butterfly.
So I have had to put up with other moments,
stale moments,
injured moments,
stray moments,
bloody moments,
because I have lost that moment where everything fell into place …
that perfect apple crumble,
that perfect kiss,
that perfect fish mornay,
that perfect child,
that perfect everything ….
Next moment please!
I have my butterfly net ready
to catch the next millions of moments
and set them free….
Love story 4
When Husband first answered the door that fateful day, I knew he would be Husband, but I will never know how I knew – I just did.
Even when I thought he was a yob, the local cowboy, Inna’s overseer – dressed in his black t-shirt, football shorts – and still not realizing until later on that first day that he was her son, I would have married him on the spot.
Poor Husband! He, of course, had no idea he had made this kind of impression on a girl my age and, in fact, he didn’t actually ‘get it’ for another year or so.
But Inna ‘got it’ straight away and, once she and I had established a rapport she would often accuse me of having a “cuddle” with her son if I didn’t answer her bell soon enough (yes, she had a brass bell!)
I was terrified of Husband back then – terrified of his sternness and terrified he would somehow find out that I adored him!
Dead or alive?
This picture was taken at Husband’s 75th birthday party 14 months ago. A lot has changed since then, to say the least….
……………………………………………………….
I hesitate to write this post because I realize it might provoke the ire of some, but, when Husband said yesterday that it would be better for everyone if he died, I caught myself thinking yes and no in the same moment.
Obviously, my no response was the one I went with in order to comfort Husband and, when I saw him later in the day (he had been ambulanced back from the local hospital to the nursing lodge, but I didn’t know this at the time), I reiterated this no.
On the other hand, now that Husband, Son and I have managed to crack the shell of the boiled egg of death, that yes is a tempting thought if only to relieve Husband’s suffering in relation to his recent downhill ‘slide’ into this new phase of Parkinson’s disease.
Euthanasia is a terrifying topic; it is also utterly out of the question for us, but Husband is no longer in the throes of life but in the throes of death. This latter point is not an emotional statement; it is a statement of fact.
The other evening, as I was tucking Husband into bed here at home, I said, “Sometimes, when I can’t wake you up, I think you’re dead.” In reply, he said, drowsily, “That would be a good outcome,” and he actually chuckled. You see, I told you he is a hero!
I am not sure what Husband, Son and I are supposed to wish for anymore….
Waiting
There may, or may not, be some subliminal, symbolic significance to this crooked photo of Tapper sneaking away from her eggs to have a quick dip, but I probably just had the camera the wrong way around. In fact, as this photo took itself some time ago (because I’m sure I didn’t do this intentionally) and I just found it on my desktop, I thought I’d put it in this post just for the hell of it!
I am waiting for the hospital to ring me to confirm that Husband is now okay enough to go back to the nursing lodge. I have tried ringing him twice but no answer so I’m not sure what is going on exactly and I’m not very good at waiting.
If you aren’t already familiar with Samuel Beckett’s famous play, Waiting for Godot, it’s worth a google. If you are familiar with it then you will know why I feel like I am inside that play, not in a horrible, negative way, just in a waiting-for-nothingish way!
Like Tapper’s eggs – are they ever going to hatch?
I had a lot of birds waiting this morning outside the back veranda but eventually they gave up on me! It’s okay, I will get them some cabbage a bit later in the day….
Ah, the hospital just rang but it wasn’t what I expected; it was the physiotherapist saying she couldn’t continue to treat Husband unless I paid the bill from last year. I was so embarrassed and admitted I hadn’t opened the mail lately, then I paid it immediately on the phone with my mastercard and apologized for keeping them waiting! Argh.
I wonder if there is a philosophy out there that helps people to wait in a way that is fruitful rather than frustrating….
Still waiting but unsure of what exactly I am waiting for – hehe!
jmgoyder 