This is Godfrey:
This is Ming:
(Photos courtesy of Jane Terren).
Anthony’s 78th birthday yesterday
The photos are courtesy of my ma, Meg, and nieces, Jane and Ashtyn. It was all fairly low key because of Anthony’s inability to cope in a crowd (with Parkinson’s disease, it is very difficult to focus on more than one thing).
Ants, Ming and I spoiled each other with birthday gifts yesterday; mine was a ridiculous amount of cheese; Ming’s was a Scottish kilt; and Anthony’s was a shirt that he was not enthralled with. And the sprinkling of friends and relatives was perfect. Jane, as usual, gave us all presents, Ashtyn took a million photos and my ma did the tea and coffee stuff. Geoff, a wonderful guy who used to work here, brought a cake which was great because Julie (not me, my sil) was complaining about the lack of one haha!
Ming took Ants back to the nursing home at around 4.30pm because he was exhausted. I would have invited more people but it would have been too hard. I did invite a few more but they couldn’t come which was actually a relief because I couldn’t remember who I had invited! Plus Ming and I wanted to take Ants over the road to have a drink with his brother but, by 4pmish, we could see this would be impossible. It took three of us to even get Ants into the car to go back to the nursing home, but I didn’t cry for a change.
Small parties are the best! Happy birthday, Ants.
PS. Would anyone like some cheese?
Say ‘cheese’!
Today is Anthony’s 78th birthday – February 4/1936. Ming and I didn’t do much for our January birthdays in terms of gifts because we decided to ‘save’ our birthdays for Anthony’s, if that makes sense. Ming is about to go and pick Anthony up from the nursing home to come to the farm for the afternoon. As Ants can’t deal with crowds anymore, I have just asked a sprinkling of people over; after all, it is a workday, not a weekend.
Ming suggested we get each other two presents each so he and I exchanged ours this morning. I will show you more of the ‘goods’ later when I have photos, but just want to show you what Ming got me!
Well, technically, the blue cheese is for Ants but we all know that I will eat most of it!
Ahhhh – cheese bliss!
Ducklings on day 2 – and Gutsy falls in love
One of the four ducklings is bigger than the others and tends to be a bit remote (well it keeps getting onto the other side of whatever fence is in front of it). I’m assuming it is a male and that the others are females. I hope so because this is not just about heart-twinkling – I want some eggs!
What Mr bigduckling doesn’t seem to realize is that he is inside the yard and the (let’s assume they are) ‘girls’ are outside and free. He is actually in the yard where Queenie looks after her peachicks and he keeps stealing their food.
I have had a few scares already; at dusk last night I couldn’t find the ducklings and assumed the worst (crows, foxes drowning), but then this morning Ming (who didn’t even know I’d got the ducklings) said, sternly, “So I see you got four.” Delighted, I ignored his disapproving frown and raced out to see them. Later in the day Ming himself panicked a bit when he found them unable to get out of the pond. The pond is a long way from the yards for little ducklings so I am amazed they even got there. I have now filled it to the brim and put some branches in so they have ways to get out. Ming had picked them all out of the pond but said he won’t be doing it again – “The birds are your responsibility, Mum,” he said, with a breathtaking smile.
As I was heading back to the house, I was shocked to see Gutsy9 actually flirting with one of the peacocks. G9 is only 13 months old. I told her off after I took the photos, but she doesn’t take much notice of my advice these days.
I told G9 to pull her head in so she did. Then she bit my finger.
New life!
Yesterday afternoon, the four new ducklings settled into their pen, then got straight out again!
As I was trying to herd them back in, Gutsy9 followed, extremely curious, but also jealous as she kept biting the bottom of my jeans as if to say, “hey, what about me?”
The gang welcomed the ducklings with a chorus of gleeful honking, then quieter little sighing sounds. Predictably, Godfrey, the head gander, hissed at me threateningly. He has very strong paternal instincts!
But the happiest of the gang was Zaruma, our only remaining duck. His mate, Tapper (the one who used to actually scale the yard fence and get out), was killed by a fox last year, so he has been very lonely. His joy was amazing; he can’t quack for some reason but he was madly wagging his tail. He’s the one on the right with the red face.
The alpacas, Uluru and Okami, settled protectively on the other side of the fence.
Even Baby Turkey became interested in a pecking sort of way.
Woodroffe and Diamond exchanged raised eyebrows.
The ducklings were very curious about the peachicks.
But they were much more interested in their first swimming lesson.
Listen to me!
It is over ten years since I completed my PhD in cultural studies; my thesis focused on the importance of listening to the storying of people with Alzheimer’s Disease. It was not a scientific thesis (and at the time I had no idea what the difference between qualitative and quantitative research was); it was more of an exploratory study of the art and gift of listening.
My interest in how listening might help/give comfort was inspired by the various patients in the nursing home in which I worked at the time – in particular a guy who I called ‘Joe’ who seemed to think I was his long-deceased fiancee.
After I graduated, I rewrote the thesis as a book and it was published – We’ll be married in Fremantle. This is not a plug for the book, as it was published way back in 2001, and not a best seller by any means, although it was shortlisted for various prizes for nonfiction.
I remember Anthony being so proud of me, for the PhD and then the book (Ming was a little kid then and Anthony was in good health), but I also remember, after all those years of academic study, how the simple art of listening would always be important to me.
Listening isn’t as easy as it sounds because sometimes it is difficult to shut up, refrain from giving advice etc. I make this mistake all the time with Ants and Ming (for different reasons, obviously), but now I am re-learning my own advice – to just listen.
Tonight, Ming said, “Mum, just listen to me!” and I did, and I shut my mouth, and I learned more about my open-hearted son than I have for ages.
Okay, before I get too sentimental, we are getting some ducklings tomorrow to keep our only duck company – I am so excited!
Sundown
Ever since the peachicks entered our lives, over a week ago, everybird has become very attentive at sundown, including this young couple (the peahen is the second one to finally return although without chicks).
Prince is also quite interested in how Queenie gets the chicks to bed (notice how he has lost all of his long tail feathers – all the peacocks have now).
Gutsy9 is a bit jealous and is always right next to me. If I crouch down, she offers her neck to be stroked.
While Queenie is stirring the chicks up, preparing them for their bedtime transition to the avocado tree, I put the geese, duck and turkey into their yard for the night. I have been trying to flood their pen in order to create a kind of pond for them and it is working.
Queenie and the peachicks take ages to get ready for bed.
So I take a photo of the fig tree while I wait.
The younger peahen flies into the yard to encourage Queenie.
King (undoubtedly the father) also flies into the yard and takes a protective stance.
And then the magic begins. The bigger chick actually leads the way!
Queenie has to help the smaller chick.
But it comes back down again to say goodnight to me.
This is around the same time (7.30-8pm) that Anthony often suffers ‘Sundowner syndrome’ so, once I leave the birds and go into the house, I always ring the nursing home to say goodnight to him. As he almost never answers the phone himself I usually have to get the nurse-in-charge to enable a conversation. Lately Ants has been okay, delusional but not upset. He often thinks he is either at boarding school, a hospital, a party, or a pub.
I tell him about the birds, and say goodnight, with a sense of tentative peace, which is probably how Queenie feels at the top of that avocado tree (can you spot her?)
The magic of nature!
Okay so here is how the Queenie, the peahen, and her two chicks go to bed every night.
Firstly, she looks around anxiously from the pen (in these photos both peachicks are underneath her).
Then she starts to sort of purr at the chicks, almost as if she is saying ‘follow me’. She begins this restless ritual at 6pm.
She stirs the chicks up a bit and they begin cheeping loudly. At 6.30pm she flies over the fence into the adjacent yard. This photo is just before she launches herself over and away from the chicks.
The two peachicks go into panic mode and try repeatedly to fly after her while, from the other side of the fence, Queenie purrs encouragement. Eventually, one by one, they fly/climb the fence until they reach an opening they can fit through and plop onto the ground on the other side. The smaller peachick takes at least fifteen minutes longer than the other one but once it’s through the fence, they all have a bit of a hug. By this time it is 7pm.
Queenie then flies out of the second pen straight into the avocado tree, then down to the ground to once again beckon the chicks through the second fence. This photo is an old one but it shows the two pens with the avocado tree on the left. It is a long journey for the chicks.
Eventually the chicks get through and arrive at the base of the avocado tree. These two photos don’t include the chicks themselves because they were quickly climbing the trunk to reach their mother. But as you can see it is a well-chosen tree and easier to climb than any of the others.
Queenie then flies up to perch in the avocado tree and purrs at the chicks to follow.
By this time the chicks are cheeping so loudly that it is almost deafening. They try repeatedly to fly/climb the tree only to plop down to the ground again and again. Queenie remains in the tree, purring encouragement, until finally they succeed. It is difficult to spot the chick in the first photo!
Finally, all is quiet. Here is Queenie curled up on her branch with the chicks underneath her wings. It’s 8pm.
The most amazing thing about all of this is that each morning they are all back in the safety of the yard again!
Another little blog break
One of the unexpected bonuses of blogging for me has been the very real friendships formed, the mutual support, the shared humour, the shared grief. The lessons of life that I have learned through other people’s stories, and interactions, have taught me how to better do empathy and sympathy, and forced me to feel the difference.
Thanks so much for those of you who have commented, ‘liked’, and given me your friendships. For those of you who are bloggers, I am struggling at the moment to keep up with your writings, so please forgive me for that. For Facebook friends, same thing really!
Ming goes to court in three days. Apparently he and I simply appear, his charges will be read out, and the case will be adjourned by our lawyer until the end of February. So I really need to concentrate on all of this at least until the beginning of February, and blogging will go on the back burner for the time being.
Hard to believe now that when I began blogging it was all about the birds.
Itchy hands
For a couple of days now my hands have been painfully itchy (apparently there is a myth that this means I am coming into some unexpected money – ha!)
I noticed that on the sides of each of my fingers there are several miniature blisters so I thought I’d google the condition and here is what I found:
http://www.pompholyx.co.uk/your_experiences.html
Yes, it would seem that I have pompholyx which of course I have never heard of before. It’s a form of eczema apparently, and the causes include everything from humidity to stress (both of which fit my situation). I’m a little alarmed to find that it may get worse but I’m also relieved that it may simply go away of its own accord. As diseases go, it certainly isn’t serious, but the itchiness is driving me slightly crazy because I want to scratch my hands to bits.
Changing the subject: I wrote a post about Ming yesterday but I trashed it soon after because it seemed a bit disloyal to a son who is, after all, only 10% evil haha! But I realize it will already have been seen by some so, just to reassure you, he and I are once again on the same page, and my new nickname for him is “90%”.
Another update: even though I briefly sighted a couple of the peahens the other day, I haven’t seen them again and five are still missing. Nesting season is well and truly over so I think I will have to assume that they have either flown away (to get away from the peacocks’ attention), or have been killed by foxes. I am hoping it’s the former but I will never know. My peacock-knowledgeable friend, Mike, came over to see us yesterday because Anthony was home for the day and I asked him if the males would be okay without their ‘wives’ and he reassured me that they would, but it is still sad to have lost the girls. I guess, you never know, they might come back. That’s the risk with free-range but I never wanted to pen them in.
I’m off soon to go into the nursing home for the afternoon. It is only one street away from the beach so much cooler than here on the farm. Pompholyx is not contagious so that’s okay; I just hope he doesn’t notice that I have taken my wedding and engagement rings off because there were a couple of blisters underneath them. My ring finger feels really naked as, except to clean the rings, I have never taken them off.
Here are some photos of the peahens (much more pleasant than a photo of my blistered hands):
jmgoyder 