jmgoyder

wings and things

“Mummy!”

Ming was allowed to come home today, three days after his surgery which was a fantastic surprise (we were told he’d be in hospital until Christmas Eve). I’d been staying in a hotel for a couple of nights and coming and going to the hospital, but checked out yesterday, planning to visit Ming then go home to the farm to feed and water the dogs, birds and alpacas, only to be told he’d be discharged today! So I quickly rang a friend to see if she could do the animals and checked back into the hotel for another night.

Yesterday Ming was still attached to the pain+antibiotic drip, a catheter, and a blood drain thingy, oxygen, and he could hardly get out of bed and walk a few steps, but today he was free of the various tubes and fighting fit – amazing! It is 8pm here and we got home around an hour ago. Ming is in a lot of pain but has three kinds of painkillers so is now in bed.

One of the painkillers has a strange side-effect – Mummy love! It is so hilarious; on Tuesday evening when he finally came out of surgery, he kept looking at me woozily and saying, “Oh, Mummy, give me your hand, hold my hand, I want to have a cubble (cuddle), you are the best mummy in the whole wide world, oh I love you so much” etc. If I let his hand go for a moment, he would yell, “Mummy, I need your hand! Muuuuuuummmmmmmyyyyyyyyy!”

Now this would have been okay if (a) he had a private room, and (b) he had a quiet voice. But he was in a shared room with three men who were all chuckling every time Ming yelled out, “Mummy, hand – where’s your hand?” After a couple of hours of this I started to get a bit embarrassed and sick of holding his stupid hand! His nurse was laughing hysterically (but quietly) at his antics and, as Ming got sleepier, she helped me remove my hand from his so I could escape to my hotel and have a well-earned wine.

My hand is still aching from his grip – so funny!

And so absolutely wonderful!

Note: Thank you so much to my WordPress and Facebook, and other friends and family (especially my own mother) for all of your prayers, wishes and messages to us. I haven’t had time to reply properly but please know how much your comments, care and love is appreciated by Ming and Muuuuummmmmyyyyy!

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Not buying into Christmas

Such a relief! Today, Ming and I had planned to go into town, get presents for each other and Anthony, get a Christmas tree, a ham, wrapping paper, sticky tape (which I can never find), send a few last-minute cards, decorate the house, find the Christmas tree lights and ornaments (oh where did I put them?) and generally have a frantic, stressful, expensive, horrible day.

But on waking up this morning to a day that was already promising relentless heat, I changed my mind and a bit later I discussed my idea with Ming:

Me: I think we should postpone Christmas.
Ming: What?
Me: Well, you will be in hospital until Christmas Eve … actually maybe we should just skip Christmas this year.
Ming: What? No presents?
Me: No presents.
Ming: No tree?
Me: No tree.
Ming: No turkey?
Me: No turkey.
Ming: No Christmas crackers?
Me: No Christmas crackers.
Ming: Mum, this is such a relief!
Me: So you agree?
Ming: I think it’s a brilliant idea!
Me: Without all the usual fuss we can celebrate Christmas for what it is.
Ming: Do you mean go to church?
Me: Yes.
Ming: Okay, let’s shake on this.

So we shook hands and grinned at each other.

The sense of relief is huge! I don’t have to fight through the throngs at the shops, spend a small fortune on ‘stuff’, don’t have to worry about how the hell I am going to cook a turkey with no oven, don’t have to search the whole of Australia for cranberry sauce, don’t have to spend hours wrapping presents, don’t have to queue up at the post office – ahhhhh!

A bit later:

Ming: But what will we eat for lunch on Christmas day?
Me: Ham sandwiches? I mean Anthony hardly has any appetite anymore anyway, it’ll be too hot for me to eat and you’re a fussy brat.
Ming: I like ham sandwiches.
Me: Good, then that’s decided.
Ming: But Grandma’s still coming on Christmas day isn’t she?
Me: No.
Ming: WHAT?!
Me: I’m joking, you idiot!

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh – now all I have to do today is frolic with the peacocks – yeeha!

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A peaceful place

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Mother goose

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After weeks of feeding Ola special grain and replenishing her water, and looking forward to her two goslings hatching, I went out this afternoon to find that she had abandoned the nest and there was only one egg there. So I brought the warm egg into the house and put it in my shirt pocket and googled goose hatching whilst stroking the egg and saying little mothery things to the gosling inside it. I found enough information to warrant going outside again and slightly cracking the egg so it could get out.

Well, guess what? There was no gosling; it was just an unfertilized and beautiful egg with a massive yoke – not a chick. And to think I was stroking this stupid egg for two hours when I could have used it to bake a cake! Argh!

Ola is frolicking without those eggs and I am feeling like a goose!

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My muse is a peachick

Gutsy 9 is one year old today (yes I got the date wrong in a previous post – I thought I found her on November 9!) For those who don’t know, G9 is the peachick I found scurrying around outside on 9 December 2012. I knew she wasn’t a duck or a goose but I thought she might be a chook, or a turkey, or even a guinnea fowl, and it took me awhile to realize she was a peachick. Since none of the peahens seemed to want her, I brought her into the house and raised her until she was big enough to go outside. As she grew, I discovered that she was pied (half white and half blue) and recently that she was a she after all (we had thought she was a he). She is a daily delight – she runs to me whenever she hears my voice and still does funny little twirlies, then follows me like a dog. Here are some photos of her a year ago – on my shoulder, Anthony’s lap and in Ming’s hands – and her birthday photo today. She has brought all of us a great deal of joy.

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Showing off, peacock-style!

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King (blue) and Prince (white) have taken a liking to flirting with the peahens just outside my office door. Needless to say, and the pictures show this I hope, the two white princesses are indifferent. King and Prince have a fraught relationship, but they never fight because Prince, being younger, always capitulates and stops showing off when King comes along.

Gutsy9 came to my office door, a bit confused, and wanting a pat!
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My baby chick becomes a show-off!

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This is Gutsy9 flaunting her unusual feathers today. She is ‘pied’ – half blue and half white. We still don’t know who her parents are exactly because we have too many peas (three whites and 12 blues) and none of them wanted her so she was mine from day 1. (Previous posts describe this).

Peafowl are tactile defensive (they don’t like being touched) but they will take bread or any other tidbits from your hand if you are patient. G9, having been hand-raised by me, is unusual in this respect. For example, today, she came up to me when I was hanging out the washing and she sort of purred until I reached down to stroke her neck and every time I stopped, she chased me for more.

Happy birthday Gutsy9!

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Banishing grey

This afternoon I ventured outside to catch a glimpse of something, anything, to free myself from the grey hopelessness of exile.

Earlier in the day, I had been to the local shop (in this little country town we have one shop, a butcher’s, a pub, a garage and a post office). For the last few weeks I have been reluctant to go to any of these places for fear that someone will ask me about Ming’s car accident, for fear that I will stumble into defensiveness, for fear that I will cry in public. So far, I have braved the shop twice. Today was my third time and I thought I would be okay, but when the shopkeeper looked at me knowingly and asked how I was, I started to say fine then, without warning, my eyes filled with tears and, when she reached over the counter to hug me, I was undone. Thankfully there were no other customers and I recovered myself quickly, making a quick escape to home – to my hiding place.

Yesterday someone asked me how Ming was coping with the fact that his ute (truck) was wrecked and the question almost felt like an assault. “He doesn’t care in the least about his ute; he only cares about the children injured. The ute doesn’t matter to any of us,” I said, my heartbeat thundering.

This afternoon I ventured outside to catch a glimpse of something, anything, that wasn’t grey. Each photo I took reminded me of how important hope is, and of how important every single member of my family is to me.

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Mating season again for our peafowl!

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The kiss
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If any Gutsy9 look-alikes turn up in the next few weeks, I have already found a home for them at http://www.fergusonfarmstay.com.au/‎ (a lovely place closeby.)

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Peacock poop

Peacock poop is a bit unsightly when it is found on the top of your newly washed car, your outside veranda, or underneath your innocent shoe(s), but, once it dries, it is easy to sweep away with the leaves. Gutsy9 can ruin the immaculate neatness of this farm and house (ha!) by coming into the kitchen, flying up onto the table and eating whatever is on the table while I hang up the washing outside. Yesterday, she came into the veranda and purred (yes purred!) to Anthony until he stroked her little head. And then she pooped.

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