Last night I rang Anthony and, instead of the usual commiserative, areyouokay? conversation, I blathered on about a whole bunch of farm/child/other problems I was having. My blah blah blah went a bit like this:
Can you believe it? The peacock man hasn’t come, I can’t find three of the girls so they’re probably nesting in a paddock or killed by the fox or maybe the neighbour has shot them and I am at my wit’s end!
Ming is fighting with me again; I think we should send him to bootcamp – what do you think? I can’t stand it!
Oh bloody hell now this other thing has happened and I don’t know if I can see you tomorrow because I have to …. argh!
You know that old lawnmower – is it worth fixing? What if it blows up? How am I supposed to figure all of this out? What! Are you crazy? How can you possibily help when you can’t walk – oh sorry, sorry!
Well of course I’m stressed – why are you chuckling? How dare you chuckle!
Yes, yes, yes, I know you love me. I love you too. Can we develop a new repertoire – this is getting boring!
Oh, all right, are you sure? Okay. Yes, I feel calmer now – thanks, Ants! G’night.
I miss the patriarch.
jmgoyder 