jmgoyder

wings and things

The shortlist

I have discovered something wonderful and I’m sure Oprah will be contacting me soon to make me rich and famous.

Okay, we are all familiar with the list thing – shopping lists, chore lists, goal lists etc. But you know what the trouble is with these lists? They are too long!

My extensive research, case studies and social experimentation over the last three days have produced extraordinary findings! Yes, indeed, I have found the cure for lethargy!

The two candidates for this study were a teenage son and his mother who were becoming more and more depressed and, yes, lethargic, due to the grief they were experiencing when the husband/father figure went into a nursing home.

Neither the wife or son had been able to adjust happily to the new home dynamic despite having a close relationship. This was compounded by the son having to have major surgery and the mother losing her job.

Even a year after the husband’s admission to the nursing home, the son’s surgery and the mother’s loss of employment, all three were still struggling to accept the new status quo. All three were grieving in different ways and this resulted in numerous arguments with emotions running high, particularly between the mother and son. Both became exhausted and fell into a state of lethargy.

Then, three days ago, a plan was devised. Each day, the mother and son would write down a 3-point shortlist for the following day. This was done in a special notebook, almost like a contract. There would be one task that required both (we called that ‘mutual’), one task for the son, and one task for the mother.

The beauty of the shortlist is that it is ‘doeable'(is that a word?)

Okay, tongue out of cheek now – this is working, so watch this space!

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Apostrophes

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Anthony’s wife is Julie.
Anthony’s son is Ming.
Julie’s husband is Anthony.
Julie’s son is Ming.
Ming’s father is Anthony.
Ming’s mother is Julie.

We are each others’ apostrophes.

And Gutsy’s mine.

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When things go wrong

This morning, on our way to town, Ming and I had a ferocious argument, with him yelling and me shrieking and both of us swearing and me crying.

Our first stop was the chemist so I left Ming in the car, slammed the door, wiped my eyes and went in to get a few things with a big fake smile on my face. It took awhile for a couple of prescriptions to be filled so I went back to the car to find Ming with silent tears rolling down his cheeks. I got into the car and sobbed an apology which was reciprocated, then we just sat in silence for a few minutes, staring dully though the windscreen.

Then we began to talk:

Ming: There is something wrong with me. I’m ruining your life.
Me: There is nothing wrong with you and you are not ruining my life.
Ming: Then why does this keep happening?
Me: Because you keep losing your temper with me and I keep overreacting.
Ming: I just want to make things perfect and it never works.
Me: Yes, and that includes me?
Ming: Yes, well, no – I just want you to be happy.
Me: Well I just want you to be happy too. But you are a bully!
Ming: I think we should go back to counselling.
Me: I agree.
Ming: Sometimes when I wake up, I just want to go back to sleep.
Me: Same here.
Ming: I want to be a child again.
Me: So do I, sort of.
Ming: Am I really harder for you than Dad?
Me: Physically, no, mentally, yes – emotionally, about the same.
Ming: But I’m only trying to help.
Me: By nagging me, reprimanding me, trying to control me, yelling at me?
Ming: You said we’d leave today at 11am.
Me: So we left at 11.10am – was that a tragedy?
Ming: No, but you’re always letting me down – you never want to leave the house.
Me: I’m having a bad time with lethargy.
Ming: Same here.
Me: So we need a plan of attack. From now on we will make a daily plan for each day. We’ll do one chore together and one separately, schedule it into the day and allocate a definite time. Neither of us is allowed to renege or be late. We’ll write tomorrow’s plan tonight and sign it like a contract.
Ming: That’s what I’ve been saying for ages, Mum – teamwork!
Me: Okay, I don’t particularly like that word but yes, you are right.
Ming: Shake hands then?
Me: Okay.

We went on and did the rest of our town errands and got home smiling. I feel terrible about the horrible, cruelly sarcastic things I said to Ming, and for screaming at him like a psycho, and he feels terrible for his control-freaky temper, but maybe we had to have this crash in order to wake up.

I am hopeful.

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Ming the Merciless!

When Ming finished school just over a year ago, his cohort was issued with school windcheaters which each kid was allowed to have labelled with their name or a nickname. Ming chose “Ming the Merciless.”

I was reminded of this when we drove into town yesterday morning for him to have his driving test. All the way in (20 minutes), he yelled different versions of a victory cry at the top of his lungs – for example:

ROOOAAARRRRGH – I AM GOING TO WIN THIS TIME!
ROOOAAARRRRGH – I AM MING THE MERCILESS!
ROOOAAARRRRGH – THIS IS MY DAY!
ROOOAAARRRRGH – DEATH TO THIS TEST!
ETC.

Eventually, I managed to quieten him a little by saying, “Now I want you to keep roaring, and I am sure you will pass this time, but just in case you don’t, it’s okay.”

He resumed his roar of absolute confidence even more loudly!

When we arrived, we waited outside, with another kid and his driving instructor, for the driving assessors to come out of the licencing centre. Ming had ceased roaring, but even his ordinary voice is LOUD, so he rather overwhelmed the other kid (who was very shy) with:

IS THIS YOUR FIRST TEST? DON’T WORRY, MATE, YOU’LL BE RIGHT! THIS IS MY FOURTH! WE ARE GOING TO NAIL IT! YES, YES, YES!

In the meantime I had a much quieter conversation with shy kid’s driving instructor.

“He’s just excited,” I said.

Öh,”he said.

Then (at exactly 7.50am) the driving assessors whooshed out of the building and called out the names of the victims ha! The shy kid simply nodded when his name was called but Ming yelled, “MING YES, THAT’S ME!”

A few minutes later, it was just the shy kid’s driving instructor and me sitting on a bench outside the centre, making pleasant smalltalk. I was trying very hard not to bite my fingernails!

About 25 minutes later, both assessors and boys arrived back. Unfortunately, the shy kid had failed outright so, as I watched his driving instructor and his mother commiserate with him, I also watched Ming’s body language as he sat inside the car listening to his assessor. I was still sitting on the bench at a distance from the car so I couldn’t hear what was being said but, at one point Ming put his head in his hands, then he threw his arms up in the air, then repeated both gestures before getting out of the car. I didn’t know if this meant he’d passed or failed.

As his assessor slipped back into the licencing centre, Ming approached the shy kid, and the shy kid’s mother and driving instructor with a loud ROAR, punching the air. They were standing just outside the centre whereas I was at a slight distance still glued to my bench. I yelled out, “Ming, yes or no?” as I ran towards him, but he didn’t hear me above his huge voice.

But, just as I reached him, he threw his arms around the shy kid’s driving instructor (someone we have never met before, by the way), and I knew he’d passed the test! He then shook the shy kid’s hand nearly off, saw me (finally!) and kissed me soundly on both cheeks and we entered the licencing centre, with Ming yelling:

WHO CAN I KISS OR HUG?
CHAMPAGNE AND CAVIAR!
JOY, BLISS, FREEDOM, I LOVE THE WORLD!

Ming, the Merciless!

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Moments

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I have never before been so attentive to, and appreciative of, a single moment. Moments are much more pleasant than hours.

Anthony was taxied home this morning and, even though his 11am drug hadn’t quite kicked in, Ming and I managed to get him into the kitchen because it was too hot outside.

The three of us had a rollicking time with a little bit of champagne thrown in. Then Ming’s two best mates dropped in to see Ants. I knew Ming had invited them, but I was heartmelted that they bothered, these two amazing young men! Ants was delighted to see them and we all spent an hour or so, still in the kitchen, bantering, listening to Triple J, and eating vegemite on toast.

By this time Ants was just able enough to go for a drive with Ming in the new ute so the friends left and Ming took off with Ants. By this time Ming’s demeanor had altered from grinny to grumpy. By this time I knew I would have to order the taxi for 3pm, not 4pm, which I did.

Ming and Ants got back and I helped Ants out of the ute and walked him to a chair on the front veranda. He was okayish and suggested a beer! I went into the house to find Ming fuming that Ants had dribbled in the ute (drooling is common in Parkinson’s Disease). I bit back and we had a rather nasty altercation.

And then, just as I was about to join Ants on the veranda for a beer, a taxi arrived – one hour early – 2pm! The shock and disappointment was terrible for Ants and the only way I could make it okay was to say we’d do it again tomorrow.

So it was a bit of a mishmash of a day. On the other hand, the good moments far outweighed the yucky ones. And the best moment was when Ming made Anthony smile!

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Home

When I arrived home this afternoon, from my 3-day holiday at a resort, something went a bit skewy in my mind.

Despite a wonderful reunion with Ming and Gutsy9, there was a thudding crash of disappointment because Anthony doesn’t live here anymore.

It isn’t home without him.

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R and R

Rest and Resort.

Ming bought me this 3-day holiday.

I am in joy!

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Making friends with Despair

I’m not scared of Despair anymore because today she told me that she only wanted a tiny hug before she went to visit somebody else. She said she had tried to visit us before but the doors were always locked.

So I gave Despair an enormous hug, apologized for us locking the doors and, as she hugged me back, she wept into the crevice of my left elbow, then she gave me a short bit of advice.

I kept hugging her until I realized Despair had gone and I was hugging my silly self!

Translation: Despair’s visit catapulted me into seeking help. Tomorrow! Yeah, she was okay enough, but I don’t want her to come back.

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“C’mon, Mum, have a laugh!”

One of things Ming says to me most often these days is “C’mon, Mum, have a laugh!” So today I will tell a funny story.

Gutsy9, the baby peacock, is now two weeks old and is quite happy to sleep in his box at night as long as he can spend the day on my shoulder. Well, when he was one day old, Ming and I had to go to town to do numerous things and I didn’t want to leave Gutsy9 alone for so long, so I took him tucked into my shirt. Ming had a gig to set up for, I had a lunch date with friends, then Ming had a counselling appointment and I was going to visit Ants (another reason I took Gutsy9 with me – I wanted to show him to Ants.)

Okay, so I dropped Ming off and went to the restaurant. Gutsy9 was asleep inside my shirt almost under my left arm so I kept my left hand on him through the shirt, sat down at the table with my friends and ordered. Gutsy9 was quiet to begin with but soon woke up and chirped, so I took him out and showed my friends who were rather aghast so I quickly chucked him back into my shirt and joined in the various conversations. A couple of hours later I picked Ming up to go to counselling and he’d forgotten I had Gutsy9 so said, “Oh that bloody bird – you’re the one who needs counselling.” He was quite nasty and I was hurt.

Anyway, the counsellor had asked me to come for the first bit of Ming’s session so I went in with him but said I couldn’t stay long because of the bird. I pulled Gutsy9 out of my shirt to show her and she looked, well, a bit surprised to say the least. Then we all sat down and she asked me how I was. It never ceases to amaze me how those three simple words ‘how are you?’ can reduce me to tears – which is what happened much to my horror. I said Ming and I had just had another altercation blah blah blah, and she suggested I stay for the whole session but I said no because I wanted to take Gutsy9 to show Anthony.

So I left and drove up the road to the nursing lodge and spent a very pleasant hour with Ants and Gutsy9 then went back to pick Ming up. By then, Ming was repentant but tentatively suggested that I should have some private counselling sessions of my own because he had been helped enormously. I told him I would think about it and we went home.

It was a few days later, when I was telling some other friends about the counselling experience, and they were laughing hysterically, that I realized how stark, raving mad I must have seemed to the counsellor and to my lunch companions!

Anthony, on the other hand, wasn’t the slightest bit nonplussed because he knows me, adores me and accepts me.

So, “C’mon, Ming, have a laugh!”

And guess what – we are both laughing today – yeeha!

Gutsy9 just hatched.

Gutsy9 just hatched.

 

Gutsy9 - 2 weeks old today!

Gutsy9 – 2 weeks old today!

 

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One of our turkeys got mauled

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Bubble (on the left) and Baby Turkey (on the right) are our two turkeys. They are our pets, not our Christmas dinner. Anyway, I got home the other day to find Ming had left me a note to say BT was in trouble so I went out and found BT’s feather’s everywhere so I assumed he’d been killed. Bubble and I looked everywhere and (just in case you don’t think birds grieve) I have never seen Bubble so distraught. He kept twitching and looking to the left and right constantly. He couldn’t fluff himself up into his usual showoffy pose and he was frantic but in the end I couldn’t find BT and was about to give up until I saw him. He was staggering around in the adjacent paddock, his back raw with wounds so, as soon as Ming got home from milking, I told him BT needed to be put down because I couldn’t stand to see him suffering. But Ming rallied him and put him into the pen with water and grain where BT ate, drank and walked around. I had a closer look at his wounds and realized that, apart from all of his back feathers being torn out, his wounds were fairly superficial.

Not sure if a fox did this or one of our dogs (who usually leave the turkeys alone).

Long story short, BT is now at the local vet’s and on antibiotics and is recovering well.

And the irony? I will be buying a frozen turkey for Christmas lunch that will cost a hell of a lot less than keeping Baby Turkey alive at the vet’s.

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