jmgoyder

wings and things

Adjournment

Ming and I were in court again today but, due to a glitch in communication between the police and our lawyer, his case has once again been adjourned – for another three weeks.

I thought today was the day Ming would finally plead guilty so I was a bit agitated as we waited in the waiting room with a fascinating assortment of other criminals. Ming was dressed in a white, collared shirt and black pants (not jeans) but, on the way into town this morning, the button on his pants popped off so, not being the type to have a sewing kit in the car, I just told him to make sure the zip was up when he faced the magistrate but not to fiddle with it too much because that might look a bit odd. This was made a bit difficult by the fact that his shirt had to be tucked in at our lawyer’s advice.

It was weird to be sitting and waiting, more worried about Ming’s pants than the outcome, and my recent hand condition (the pompholyx I wrote about awhile back, which has come back again), started to erupt in front of my eyes. It was like a scene from a science-fiction movie!

All of the little blisters on my hands started to join each other until, one after another, big blisters formed – between my fingers, on the palms of my hands and on my wrists. Okay – gross-out alert here – then, as I rubbed my itchy hands together nervously, all of the blisters started to burst and leak, then re-form, again and again. Ming was so disgusted and concerned by my leaking hands that he, too, lost focus on the court case. This was our conversation before the hearing:

Ming: Will you stop rubbing your hands, Mum!
Me: Look at this blister! OMG it just appeared, Ming!
Ming: Don’t touch it, Mum. Oh please – I am going to vomit!
Me: Your zip is down again.
Ming: What? Oh, okay, don’t worry, I will pull it up again when I stand up.
Me: There’s the lawyer Ming!
Ming: Don’t shake his hand, Mum, please!
Me: Don’t show him your zip, Ming, please!

Lawyer: Hello, you two.
Ming: Hello (stands up awkwardly to shake lawyer’s hand whilst surreptitiously pulling up his zip).
Me: Hello (sitting down with my hands in my pockets but with a big grin on my face to make up for not shaking his hand).
Lawyer: It could be another adjournment.

He was right!

[Note: I am taking off tonight to spend time with friends at a chalet nearby so will catch up with other people’s blogs on Monday – in meantime have a great weekend!]

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Bed-time magic: how a peahen puts her chicks to bed

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The smile

Not quite sure how a light-hearted bird blog transmogrified into Julie’s gutspill but I am hoping to turn that around again soon. Tomorrow is Ming’s second court hearing so I guess I am a little bit anxious because I have just found out that this is when he will plead guilty. Apparently there is no risk that he will be whisked off to jail tomorrow so that is good and I am no longer sure what the hell I am crying about any more. Sad and happy tears look exactly the same, so it’s confusing.

Queenie camouflages the chicks so well that they are almost invisible to predators. I wish I could do this for Ming but he is a little too big and obvious!

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Yesterday afternoon I took two beers into the nursing home and Anthony and I had a drink together (the way we always used to at home). I apologised for my melodrama yesterday and he just said ‘Any time, Jules – I know you.’ Mmmm!

Then we had a rather weird but lovely interchange:

Ants: I just want you to come home.
Me: You mean here?
Ants: Yes, here – Bythorne.
Me: We’re not at Bythorne now, Ants, we’re at Wattle Hill Lodge.
Ants (trying not to look confused): That’s right.
Me (trying not to notice his confusion): Exactly – this is our second home.
Ants: So why are you leaving?
Me: Because I have to take dinner home to Ming.
Ants (hallucinating): Is that Ming there in the corner?
Me: No – he’s at Bythorne.
Ants: So where are we now?
Me: Wattle Hill.
Ants: So where is home?

At this point, I felt a bit lost, so I knelt down in front of him and threw my arms around him and said (rather profoundly I think now haha!) “Wherever you are, Ants, that is my home.”

And I finally got a bloody smile!

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Duckling update

Well the three ducklings have grown so quickly that they are almost too big to squeeze through the fence of the yard I put the gang in at night. They free range with their ‘minders’ all day.

Here’s a picture of Seli and Godfrey guarding the Twins.

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And here’s one of Ola watching over a sleeping Michael Jackson (the dancing duckling).

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I took a whole lot of better photos of all of them but had to delete these because Ming’s smashed ute (truck) was in the background. The gang + ducklings tend to hang out underneath it because it is near the pond. We have covered the smashed-in front of the ute with a blanket so that visitors, especially family, won’t be upset if they see it. The rest of the ute looks normal, with the tray intact. I wish we could get rid of it but we are stuck with it in the back yard for now until we try again to claim some insurance. Every morning and every evening, when I let the gang out, or put them into the yard, I have to walk past the ute.

There is also a clear view of the ute from the kitchen window, a constant reminder of the accident and everything since. And when I frolic in the dirt, and offer prayers to the sky, and watch the pea-chicks climb the avocado tree, or cry until my body is cramped like a dead leaf, I am always right next to the ute.

Ming brought Ants home for the afternoon yesterday and I (rather dramatically) threw myself into his chest and soaked him with some of these endless, futile, enormous tears. He held me and said nice things to me and then asked me about the ducklings.

“When are we eating them?” he asked.

I stopped crying immediately. “What the hell are you talking about? We are not eating them, Ants!”

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The loveliness of dirt

The other evening, I was watching the ducklings and peachicks go to bed in their different ways and, because I keep forgetting to take a chair or stool to sit on next to the yards, I just sat down on the ground.

The clothes I had on were my ‘city’ clothes – I looked in my files for photos that would go with this post but couldn’t find any that were dirty enough!

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Wrong number

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I have been trying to find someone to shear the alpacas, Okami and Uluru, because I didn’t get around to organizing this in January. They are not overly woolly and seem to be pretty happy because there is lots of water and shade, but it is very hot and March might be even hotter.

So I got a mobile phone number from someone who knew someone who might know a shearer and yesterday I rang it (assuming I was ringing someone who lived nearby). This was how the phone conversation unfolded:

Shearer: Yeah?
Me: Oh hello, I was just wondering if you shear alpacas.
Shearer (not a shearer): Not me, mate, naah, but me neighbor might.
Me: Would it be okay if you asked him for me? I don’t live very far away.
Shearer (not a shearer): No worries, love. Bloody hot isn’t it!
Me: Yes, that’s what I’m worried about, you know for the alpacas.
Shearer (who I will now call Man): Bitches?
Me: Well, no, it’s two males actually.
Man: Yeah I’ll sort it for you, mate – where do ya live?
Me: Paradise Road – not far from Dardanup.
Man: Where the fxxxx is that?
Me: I thought you lived in Dardanup!
Man: I’m in Queensland, darling!
Me: Oh, I’m so sorry – I think I must have rung the wrong number.
Man: No problems, love, better than the telly!
Me: Well, thanks so much and sorry for bothering you like this.
Man: Best fun I’ve had for ages, mate!
Me (laughing): Good to meet you, whoever you are and thanks!

This would have to be the best ‘wrong number’ situation I have ever experienced!

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Ten degrees of joy

Ming and I saw his surgeon on Friday and the X-ray shows that Ming’s spine is now almost back to the way it was after his first surgery. I won’t bother putting the stats here – just to say that he is now ten degrees straighter than he was after he fractured two titanium rods. But the best thing is the residual pain/ache (since fractures) has gone.

The surgeon said that Ming, despite feeling better now, needs to take another six months for the inside healing to happen. He said that the bone stuff they used was very expensive and had enzymes that needed to do their work. I am glad he told us this because Ming and I were beginning to leap around with joy a bit too much (well I was!)

One of the hardest things for Ming is that he can never, ever, lift anything too heavy, or twist and turn like most of us (yesterday, when I turned around to look at something, he said, ‘I wish I could do that.’) I pretended to play a violin of sorrow until we both cracked up laughing.

Bravo Ming!

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Motherhood 2 (a funny story)

The three people I see most of are Anthony, my mother and Ming of course. For some reason I sometimes get their names confused, as if they are identical triplets or something. So I will often call Ming ‘Ants’ and vice versa, but I have also called Ants ‘Mother’ a few times and called my mother ‘Ming’. Do other people do this?

Anyway, last night, just before Ming went off to his shed to go to bed, he gave me a big hug and I said, “You are such a beautiful son,” and he said, “That’s because I’m your mum.”

Obviously he’d meant to say, “That’s because you’re my mum,” but he got the words the wrong way around just like I get the names the wrong way around.

After we stopped laughing hysterically, he left for his shed and, hearing his footsteps outside my office door, I shouted, “G’night Mummy!” and he shouted back, “G’night, darling!”

Still laughing about it!

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The Peacock Family Adventures 1

This is my first attempt at a children’s picture book story – very much a first draft, but lots of fun. It’s dedicated to M, J, T, M and K.

The Peacock family lived on a little farm called Paradise.

Daddy Peacock’s name was King because he had the most powerful beak in the world.

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Mummy Peahen’s name was Queenie. King and Queenie loved each other very much.

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King and Queenie eventually had three peachicks: a little girl called True, and the twins, Kungfu and Mischief. When they were little, Queenie would organize tree-climbing competitions. She would fly to the top of the huge avocado tree and say, ‘ready, set, go!’ True always won because she was the biggest.

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The twins, Kungfu and Mischief, tried their best but they could never beat True to the top of the tree.

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Sometimes they all fell down to the ground but they never hurt themselves because Queenie showed them how to use their wings like parachutes. True already knew she had wings so, when Queenie was having her afternoon nap, True showed her little sister and brother how to fly.

When Kungfu learned to fly, he was so happy he flew straight into his dad’s feathers – BANG. But King didn’t mind at all because he had plenty of feathers and he loved to show them off.

Mischief was very good at tricks. She would sometimes pretend to fall out of the tree so that King would have to catch her. But King wasn’t fooled. He would play hide-and-seek with Mischief until she gave up and called ‘Daddy”. Then he would say BOO!

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Kungfu was the first peachick to grow feathers and every day he practised doing what his dad did. It was very hard to begin with but one day, he did it!

But True, being such a truthful peahen, would say, “Kungfu, you look ridiculous!” Then they would have an argument and Mischief would laugh and laugh and laugh, but very quietly.

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Mischief, being such a mischievous peahen, knew exactly how to laugh without looking like she was laughing. After all, she didn’t want to hurt Kungfu‘s feelings.

But Kungfu always knew when Mischief was laughing at him so he would wait until she was looking at her reflection in the pond and WHAMMO he would bite her big toes – both of them.

King and Queenie decided that they needed to talk to their children about their behaviour.

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“Do you think Mischief is a bit too mischievous, Darling?” asked Queenie.

“No, Sweetie-pie. She’s just growing up. I’m more worried that she will fall into her reflection in the pond,” said King.

“Yes, I’ll talk to her about that. What about True – do you think she is a bit too truthful, Darling?” asked Queenie.

“Yes and no. She really needs to stop pushing Kungfu‘s buttons,” said King, wisely.

“How can we stop Kungfu from biting Mischief‘s toes?” asked Queenie.

King thought for a moment.

“I have a good idea, Sweetie-pie. Let’s see if True can ask the sky. She is really good at that.”

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That night, as the Peacock Family settled down for the night, high up in the avocado tree, True waited until everyone was asleep, then she asked the sky.

And the big, red, pink, orange, yellow, beautiful sky answered her.

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Then, all of a sudden, Kungfu turned over in his sleep and accidentally kicked True off her branch.

To be continued ….

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A disco duckling, a haughty gander, and a very depressed turkey

The little duckling in the centre of this photo is distinct from the other two because s/he is smaller and paler. But, after what I witnessed the other evening, I have decided to call this duckling Michael Jackson.

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I had put the gang, including ducklings, into their yard for the night, then turned the hose on the avocado tree which is right behind Ming’s shed where he now lives. As soon as I turned the hose on, Michael Jackson squeezed through the fence and began swimming in the growing puddle. The other two ducklings (the ‘Twins’ because they are identical) followed Michael Jackson to the puddle, so I had to let Godfrey out again in order to herd them back in. He gave me his usual ‘look’ – a combination of ferocity and disdain.

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At that very moment, Ming began to play his guitar very loudly and the birds and I got a bit of a fright. Well, little Michael Jackson went crazy and I nearly ran to Ming’s shed to tell him to stop the noise until I realized that the duckling was actually dancing! It ran around in circles, twirled around in the puddle of water, threw itself at the twins and frolicked madly. When Ming stopped playing his guitar for a few moments, the duckling just stood still, as if waiting, then, when Ming resumed, the whole happy dance thing happened again. It’s one of the funniest things I have ever seen and I wish I had it on video.

Godfrey watched fondly, as I did, then I turned the hose off and he herded Michael Jackson and the twins back into the yard.

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The only lonely one now is Baby Turkey because we lost Bubble, his main companion months ago. Baby Turkey now prefers to be in his own yard, away from the happiness of the geese and ducks. He sleeps a lot but when he gets up he still looks so sad. I have decided to try and find him a mate, a female turkey, so that he will be happy again and am hoping that the place where I got the ducklings will have one to spare. They have turkey chicks so maybe they will sell me one of the mothers.

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Baby Turkey’s loneliness is a constant reminder of Anthony’s. I have not been allowed into the nursing home for a few days because I have a chest infection, so Ming and my mother have been in several times and I am relying on phone chats with Ants. He doesn’t understand that I am sick; he just seems to think I am neglecting him and I got a phone-call the other morning from one of the nurses, to say he didn’t want to get out of bed. I ended up speaking to him but he was quite incoherent. This is the first time I have known him to be like this in the morning because this usually happens in the evening.

I don’t know why the quote ‘This is how it is’ resonates so powerfully for me; after all, it is a statement of the obvious. I like it though because it beckons some sort of response, it curls around a sort of question, and it invites a sort of acceptance.

Sort of!

Godfrey and I have agreed to disagree, and I still love him.

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