52. The Benedictine Nuns – Journal Entry 30th Jul 1980

I had a very nice chat with Sister Gregory. She told me a Benedictine nun from England, who belongs to an intellectual order, is in Australia to attend a conference of the Benedictine order.  The monks are smitten by her intelligence and knowledge and she will be holding a discussion on prayer. Sister Theresa is trying to find at least twenty people who might be interested in hearing the English nun speak. Sister Gregory said it was a case of Sodom and Gomorrah – at least 20 good people?

BenedictineNuns
Benedictine nuns with Gita 1980

Sister Gregory says that the more she hears about our activities and what goes on at our place the more she thinks that ours must be the only Christian household. I don’t think that’s much of a compliment though. Apparently, Barbara comes out with bits of our lore and language, which amuses the nuns. Mum is the only religious one among us and likes to attend church.

Today again I didn’t get much done. A letter came in from India, Nora wants to visit us so she can spend time with mum. She also wants to start an export business and we will have to think about that.

Telephone the solicitors – they haven’t done anything yet about the insurance claim.

Barbara had another upset today. Cliffy is said to have teased her about someone and she is supposed to have said that if he teases her again she would kill herself. She was withdrawn when she returned home. She has also been excited by the last visit to town when she met some Quay Street friends and has been marking time for our next Rocky visit.  She seems to be making a big issue about friends, old friends, and sending cards to them. It’s been nearly two months since Barbara has been on Mellaril, mum tells me.

I stopped the Rover in an awkward place and it wouldn’t start.  It doesn’t take much to start the engine but you do need that little slope and Johnny doesn’t know what the problem is.

Mum was upset now because she was to go to the pensioners social and had baked a cake. If she had known the Rover wasn’t available, she would have walked and made time for it. Now she would be late and the cake was heavy, she said. I stopped her from disturbing the neighbours and walked with her, carrying the old-fashioned coffee cake. The swamp had over 30 Whistler ducks sitting quietly among the weeds.  On the way back, I sat and watched them. How I wished, yet again, that I had a pair of binoculars.  A car passed by very close to me when I walked back, funny bugger.

The corned leg of mutton didn’t turn out so well. The overnight soaking was insufficient and it tasted rather salty, the gravy was worse.

At 9:30 p.m. I talked about the draft program for Warby’s conference and Johnny suggested changes. I told Johnny about N and M’s possible visit and laughed at his consternation. Told him of my day and also Monika’s delight at fixing the duck fence.

31st Jul 1980

Rang the Activities Therapy Centre about Barbara, saying she would kill herself if Cliffy teased her again. The bus driver told me that Barbara has started her talk of boyfriends and was being teased by the schoolboys on the bus. I advised her to tell Barbara to stop talking about it. Reggie the bus driver, is very kind and believes in treating adults as equals. She was concerned enough to see Graham, the psychologist, about the problem of dealing with Barbara on the bus.

KarenProfileCircle120Notes and Links

  • This journal entry is part of the My Mother’s Voice – Journal Series and based on the journals of my mother.
  • These posts are meant to be read in sequence and the Preamble post marks the beginning of the journal series. Refer to Archived on the Home page.
  • Check out the photos under the Gallery menu option

45. Hospital Flashback – Journal Entry 7th Jan 1980

It has been raining for the past forty-eight hours; well almost. The Australorp chooks are drenched. The wind is strong. As usual, the front verandah is a bit wet, with fine rain blowing onto the books and papers. The louvres can’t be tightly shut. Also, water is seeping down the walls of the verandah. A good day for tidying the house and cutting bottles for tumblers.

The family went to the Kavlon Theatre last night to see two Terence Hill/Bud Spencer movies. Too much slapstick, with baddies and goodies smashing stores and hitting each other with bottles. Boring to us but the others seemed to have enjoyed them. The cinema was packed.

Today I should like to get the following done:

  1. Pay the bills
  2. Type the letter to Marcie
  3. Do some algebra
  4. Finish networks to get onto SEARCH
  5. Cook some curries

List of items for Canberra:

  • Jeans 2 or 3
  • Tops 2 or 3
  • Skirt, black embroidered + blue
  • 2 saris and blouses
  • 1 cardigan
  • Swimsuit?
  • Lungi
  • Toothbrush, hairbrush
  • Toe-rings
  • Notepad, pencils
  • Algebra?
  • Handbag

What to look for in Canberra:

  • Outline of Social Anthropology Studies
  • Bibliography on Aboriginal studies; esp urban
  • Spices
  • Granite pestle and mortar for Gran
  • Turkish delight
  • Present for Monika

Muchlater

17th Jul 1979

A lovely new biro and a new pad. Ward 13, Room E, just after a meal of Shephard’s pie made of mince and large chunks of meat. Wish I’d bought a bottle of chilli sauce. The noise of the crockery being washed is deafening, such loud crashes and the domestic aid handles them with a stern face and tight lips. I sat next to a short square woman in a blue chenille dressing gown. Her mouth is misshapen. Most likely it is a mild paralysis or stroke. Her specs are as thick as old-fashioned soda water bottles. Perhaps my tastes have changed since last here and now I’m more choosy or more observant. The tea tastes grey and weak, the bread tastes grey and dry, and even the potato and lentil soup tastes grey. This is food produced in vast quantities with no care or love. The pie was fairly tasty though. One patient was on a special diet and was given her pudding first instead of the main course. She plastered it with Worcestershire sauce before she realised it was custard and not scrambled egg.

Back in the ward. I’ve got a bed near a window and Rocky is slowly putting on its lights.

Funny type of conversation going on. There are three people, each determined to tell the others the story of her life. One woman had a particularly hard life with seven kids from five pregnancies: one has had a kidney out, two attend opportunity school, one has a hearing aid and two were in an accident recently.

I’m going to do some sums, this is very boring.

At the dinner table, most of the women claimed to like Kamahl.

19th Jul 1979

Yesterday was an exceptionally long day. We were asked to wash in Phisohex at noon and get dressed in ‘theatre clothes’. These were a grey cotton top, open at the back, and the most awkward crumpled grey cotton tie-on underpants. At two, the woman of the seven pregnancies was taken away for a full hysterectomy. At 3:15 pm it was my turn, fortunately for a very minor operation.

A jolly young bearded man wheeled the trolley into the ward and said, “Who’s next?”
I echoed, “Who’s next?”
He pointed dramatically at me, paused and said loudly, “YOU.”
So I said, “Surely not.”
“You’re Gita aren’t you..?”
He smiled. “Then it’s you.”
He went into his litany in a sing-song voice, “Any nail polish? Wooden leg, false eyelashes, teeth, glass eye, jewellery?”
“Oh well, we have the genuine article,” he concluded and asked me to hop on the stretcher.

I climbed on and was taken to a nurse and to get my medical file. Some slight delay as the nurse has lost a patient. Besides, I haven’t been given an injection to keep me quiet and I’m glad of it. We proceeded to move out of the nurse’s room and towards the lift where the wardsman trotted out his next stock joke: “This lift is not working, so I’m going to have to take you down the stairs.”

We went through the door leading to the operating theatre. There is a very long narrow white corridor in front of me as we glide through. Men stood in front of some of the doors, white-gowned and capped. The women were in purple. The light was strange, almost disco-like without the flashes. Everything had a T.V. science fiction look about it – a Dr Who feeling – except these people could have been baddies. The timid could have very well wrecked their nervous system. What price must one pay to cure one’s ills, especially minor ones? A large white-clad attendant dwarfed the wardsman and me.

KarenProfileCircle120Notes and Links

  • This journal entry is part of the My Mother’s Voice – Journal Series
  • These posts are meant to be read in sequence and the Preamble post marks the beginning of the journal series. Refer to Archived on the Home page.
  • A map of where we lived and a family tree are also at the bottom of the Home page, click here.
  • The hospital visit was written in the journal after the 7th Jan 1980 entry and has been included here as a flashback.

44. Seven Year Recap – Journal Entry 2nd Jan 1980

Dear Marcie,

Thank you very much for being so tolerant. It must be nearly seven years since we were in Manila.

Christmas in particular is a curious time when one takes stock and wonders about one’s friends. I had wondered how you were going.

The report over the last seven years would be something like this:

Year 1 – 1973

Glad to be back and without servants. People are friendly, warm, small townish and so dearly Australian – offhand and casual but helpful and interested in one’s doings.

Queensland in particular (not Brisbane, that’s the capital and not typical) has this reputation for having barefoot lotus eaters, who would rather go fishing than build your house or repair your plumbing. Only emergencies need to be attended to promptly. Newcomers to the area take a while to adjust.

Johnny is very busy setting up the Department of Mathematics and Computing.

Marcello, Karen and Gareth attend the primary school down the road. The kids in particular remarked on the friendliness of everyone in Emu Park and deplored the segregation in their primary school in Manila.

Year 2  – 1974

Went north right up to Cook Town – didn’t make it to the Cape York Peninsula. Camped on a jut of land between the sea and a bit of backwater. The fish jumped onto the sand, asking to be eaten. We were warned of crocodiles but didn’t see any. A  lone fisherman who was camped nearby gave us huge crabs. They were delicious. We all agreed it was the best of all our camping trips. Did lots of camping nearby. There was a beautiful little waterfall and great beaches, one as long as nine miles and hence called Nine Mile Beach. Needed our four-wheel drive. We slipped away every fortnight when the weather was good.

Johnny still working very hard.

Year 3 – 1975

Had a lot of hassle getting my mother and sister Barbara into Australia. Took two years of persuasive letter writing by Johnny and an appeal to an M.P. My sister is mentally retarded, hence the problem. Things were not quite as carefree at our place after that. Our movements were cramped considerably.

Johnny working harder than ever.

My sister was in a bad way, twenty-nine years of being messed about with witchcraft, neglect, faith healing, drugs and electric shock treatment. She was pathetic, frightened, selfish, repulsive – a nuisance to everyone and yet she had affection to give.

So the next two years was devoted to sorting her out and getting her to relate in a human way to others around her. She was taken on at the Sub-Normal Children’s Therapy Centre and that helped a lot. Now she was going to work like everyone else. She travels with Johnny as the Capricornia Institute of Advanced Education (CIAE) is near the therapy centre. Johnny has been mainly responsible for humanising Barbara, he maintains that Barbara’s home life should be predictable and stable.

Life gets a bit unpleasant when my mother objects to our handling of Barbie, however apart from that, my mother has a good vegetable garden going and a vast number of Australorp hens. We get about a dozen brown eggs a day, bananas when they ripen, the occasional pawpaw, passionfruit, chilli, aubergine, pumpkin, etc, etc.

So our standard of living improved and of course some people envy our extended family. During the 1979 Christmas holidays I was only cooking once a week! Everyone takes turns now with Johnny cooking dinner at weekends. I’ll save telling you of the menus until some other letter.

Grandma, as we call my mother, seems popular at the National Fitness Club (second oldest member), the Singing Ship Bowling Club and the Pensioner’s Club, whose members seem to regard her as a cute oriental mascot. She loves going out and is forever baking or cutting sandwiches for some tea or other. The expression is ‘taking a plate’ to ‘afternoon tea’.

To get back to Barbara; she is beginning to feel secure and has a sense of belonging. She is useful and helpful and good to have around. Above all she can work some things out for herself and does whole jobs on her own rather than working from a set of instructions. She has an excellent sense of humour, especially of the absurd, and it’s nice getting her to laugh.

Skipping to 1979

A year of crises but not all bad; in fact some positive gains. Marcello finished high school reluctantly. He will be a father in mid-January and Johnny and I will be grandparents. Monika is Swedish and dropped out of school mid-grade eleven because of the pregnancy. Apparently she wasn’t enjoying school much anyway. We’ve just added an extra room to the house. Monika has lived with us now for two years.

We always cause a stir when we visit Rockhampton library. Between us we take out forty-eight books and with three sets of surnames listed under one general name, things get a little complicated. Only the more adventurous of the library assistants are willing to tackle us.

After stuffing around all these years organising markets, nursery and candle-making and even giving an adult education course on Indian cooking, I took a preliminary maths course at the CIAE, a pilot course Johnny had introduced, using some material which had proved successful in the UK. The hardest part of the course was getting into the habit of regular study. The course is intensive, with four years of high school maths in one year.

The novelty of the material is that it is maths for adult students and not high school maths. Some of the examples are hilarious like the statement, “Minnie Snodgrass is the most beautiful girl in the world when the light is just right.” One clever device in the text, is the use of a dreadful character called Authur O’Figgis who makes the silly mistakes that one tends to make in maths when one is not thinking. For example, (a + b)2 = a2 + b2 instead of the correct answer a2 + 2ab + b2, so when O’Figgis joins Comp-Ferrat, production drops.

There could be interest in other parts of Australia in this course. Johnny wrote several chapters, eliminating some and rewriting a fourth of the course to suit Australian education requirements. There have been many conferences at which Johnny has delivered papers on P-maths. He is heartily sick of the subject and this is only the beginning.

We will be in Canberra at a conference for maths teachers where he will tell everyone about the Australian experience of ‘Poly-Maths’, as it is called in England. The author of the bridging course will also be at the conference talking about ‘Poly-Maths’. He is a tough, intelligent, beer-drinking, Rugby-playing, Welsh mathematician who will then come to Rockhampton for the second time to discuss P-maths at CIAE. I don’t know if you are aware that a lot of teaching in Australia is done through correspondence. I think Australia leads the world in external teaching. P-maths depends a lot on discussion between lecturer and students. It had to be changed to suit external students. Tapes were made which have proved very successful. Actually on the whole the external students did better than the part-timers and towards the end, the part-timers were demanding the tapes.

At the end of 1979, Johnny and I realised that being hellishly busy without making time for each other was disastrous. After all, our relationship was the most important thing. Every evening we had to stop whatever we were doing to meet at 9 o’clock. If we could meet earlier that was better still. The rule seems to be working very well.

We also took several holidays together, but because of the large number of people in the family and the fairly high probability of things going wrong, we couldn’t go away. So we spent our time at home in Johnny’s study and spare room (called the talking room) and stayed up late and woke up late. The family had to look after itself and only approach us in an emergency. We lived off omlettes, cheese, olives, bread, lots of rum, brandy, creaming soda and coffee. It was a marvellous time. We went for long walks along the beach and along the disused railway track and had long discussions. The family was most circumspect.

1980

So, Marcello looks for a job. Karen has two more years of high school and seems to be doing well. Joined the debating team last year, will work for her Duke of Edinburgh gold medal award this year and is taking science and maths as board subjects. Gareth is in his last year of primary school. If he carries on the way he has been, he should be quite a scholar. He’s read Silmarillion, is attempting to teach himself Greek (not working well at it), is well acquainted with the Iliad and is having the Odyssey re-read to him. He was interested in Aztecs a while back and seems to have enjoyed reading The Once and Future King. Things should be better for him at high school as he lacks intellectual stimulation at his age level.

Johnny still carries a heavy load: Chairman of the School of Science, Planning Committee and the Management Advisory Committee. He is involved in the Computer Centre and would like to organise rotating H.O.D of Maths (sounds like a windmill) to give him more time. So 1980 brings no relief. I have signed on for three subjects: Computer Science I, Algebra I and Probability & Statistics I. Also, in the meanwhile, I’ve decided to read about social anthropology and Australian history with a long reading list on selected books on sociology (some very dull) and  philosophy.

You are probably aware of Seymour B Sarason’s writings, two of his books are especially good: The Creation of Settings and the Future Societies and Human Services and Resource Networks. On philosophy, Johnny has discovered an Australian, John Passmore .

Please let me know in some some detail what your interests are and what you’ve been doing.

All the best for 1980 to you and the family

More next time,
Gita

KarenProfileCircle120Notes and Links

  • This journal entry is part of the My Mother’s Voice – Journal Series
  • These posts are meant to be read in sequence and the Preamble post marks the beginning of the journal series. It can be found in Archived on the Home page.
  • A map of where we lived and a family tree are also at the bottom of the Home page, click here.

42. Life Rebalancing – Journal Entry 8th Dec 1979

A warm morning. The black cockatoos are doing the rounds of the Queensland hoop pine trees. The nuts are ready for eating. Their harsh cries seem to have stopped. They must have settled down to feed.

It’s been a month since I wrote in this pad. What has happened until now?

P-maths, that almost constant influence in my life, is over. Now I can start revisiting it and have been doing that since the end of November.

Had ten whole days with Johnny at the end of the semester. We walked up hills, up and down the railway tracks and under the bridge, went to the beach and lived off eggs, cheese, bread and olives. We drank much rum, brandy, wine and creaming soda. There was much love and we talked and discussed many things: adults in education and their transition, urban Aborigines and manipulation/facilitation.

The family was so good while we were on holiday.

I’m back in gear, doing a few things I didn’t have time to do during study time and we’ve made several family shopping trips to Rocky. We’ve planned more. Johnny invited me to join the CIAE search group and it could be the most exciting happening in my life. I attended a few meetings and enjoyed them very much. They were intellectual and stimulating.

I seem to have time to read and think because the big ones take turns cooking. My cooking day is Friday and Johnny takes the weekend. As for gardening and chooks, I’ve just about retired completely from those two activities, but will take the time to plant banana and pawpaw trees – they look after themselves. Late night shopping on Thursday was fun and we are going again next Thursday.

22nd Dec 1979

The lass who is looking after Cassidy’s house is a Finn, reads about Kundalini and is only interested in that type of reading – Rama Krishna, etc. She has two boys aged 7 and 12. Presumably, she knew Connie because of a common interest in the occult. The Cassidy’s dog has a spear grass thorn in its eyeball and Herbert has taken it to the vet. Poor Herbert and Marian, they have many dogs of their own. They also have Ellen’s dog Sugar. Neurotic Sugar, who bleeds a lot when she urinates, then squats in it and shakes herself. Unfortunately, she will probably die soon and her mistress is in hospital too. I wonder who has that poor Persian cat that was kept chained all the time. A beautiful, frustrated cat with matted fur.

So many good books to get acquainted with. Read Graham Greene’s In Search of a Character, two journals about his books: A Burnt-Out Case and The Heart of the Matter. He wonders, in the first journal, what makes so many people want to become writers: “Why should this dream of writing haunt so many? The desire for money? I doubt it. The desire for a vocation when they find themselves in a life they haven’t chosen? The same despairing instinct that drives some people to desire rather than to experience a religious faith?”

Re-read Lady Chatterley’s Lover for the fourth or fifth time. Lawrence is such a good writer. Nothing yet to touch this love story – rather the telling of this common theme – love between a man and woman.

Why are Johnny and Gita lucky to have each other? I think it is because each has what I call a ‘generous heart’. A giving, in spite of high cost, and it’s rare for two such people to be together. Looking around, there seem to be many couples where one partner is generous and the other is not. Such a loss it seems, though the couples seem to make a go of things without feeling anything is missing. Social Anthropology in Perspective by Lewis is most enjoyable and sets me thinking. I had better start re-reading Emery’s works for the Canberra trip.

The relationship with my Johnny is good but runs into trouble sometimes because of my moodiness. But I am learning to control moodiness. Life is so good – the only life one has and Johnny says we should do something substantial to merit this life we have together.

Last night was such happiness. We decided not to use the word happiness, overused and ambiguous, surely we mean ecstasy or rapture.

KarenProfileCircle120Notes and Links

  • This journal entry is part of the My Mother’s Voice – Journal Series
  • These posts are meant to be read in sequence and the Preamble post marks the beginning of the journal series. It can be found in Archived on the Home page.
  • A map of where we lived and a family tree are also at the bottom of the Home page, click here.

41. Johnny’s Birthday Feast – Journal Entry 6th Nov 1979

It was Johnny’s birthday yesterday. The day before that, I wondered a bit about D and what he was thinking and feeling. Tried to work up anger over the whole thing and I ended up getting irritated with the family, the people I love.

Yesterday had bright spots, but Johnny found me unpredictable and moody. On the drive home from Yeppoon yesterday, the moke hood was down and Johnny had his shirt off. On houseless stretches of road, I had my shirt off too. The sun and wind delightful on my body. D rang yesterday when I was out. Said he would ring back but didn’t.

We bought so many good things for the birthday feast. Prunes, dried pears, apricots, peaches, figs, brazil nuts, peanuts and cashew nuts. The pistachios were for Johnny and I. The meal was superb with Johnny seeing to some of the cooking: we had lamb kebabs, mushrooms, sprouted beans and rice. The sweet course was half a rockmelon stuffed with strawberries, cream and ice-cream. Later, after the washing up, we brought out the nuts, fruit, rum, Cinzano and coffee.

There was an awkward situation earlier where two diggers were expected to pitch up during the evening. How to stop them coming during the festivities when they would be most unwelcome? Especially as the house had been invaded by diggers for over a month. Most of them were boring, with talk of themselves and whinges about the Australian Army. Johnny especially was fed up and he was not free in his own home. Anyway, to get back to the awkward situation, we talked it over while cleaning the sprouted beans and it was decided that Marcello would write a letter to Kevin, asking him not to call until Thursday, thereby solving two problems (hope it works). Kevin is intelligent but very self-absorbed and insensitive to other people in the room. He talks all the time, about himself and all the things he has done. Impossible to turn the talk. Laurie was to be met at the door, should he come during the meal, and parked in the pub until we retrieved him. However, Marcello and Monika met him at the camp when they went to deliver the letter. Poor Laurie had been scrubbing kitchens all day. He agreed to come at 8:30 pm and turned up at 8 pm. It was a good time to come because we had finished early. He came in filthy with kitchen grease, fed up with work and mentioned he was on duty again at midnight, guarding the equipment loaded on the trucks lined up for departure the next day. It was his last evening with Karen.

Infatuation: a foolish or extravagant love or admiration. D called. I couldn’t muster any anger against him. His gravelly Australian voice was so good to hear. What am I going to do? He feels helpless too, agrees that things are impossible. Can we forget or at least refrain from contact and get on with what we have to? D is all wrong for me and what I value. I could be all wrong for D, in fact, I think I am. His world is unreal, so far removed from the basic, hard, down to earth world I inhabit. His world would destroy us. It seems to have had an unsettling effect on D, always rushing around, restless, not given to reading much, no proper roots, getting his living from the labour of others. What the hell do I see in him? What? What? What?

Johnny says it is an escape from the slightly hard times we’re in, power or whatever D represents. Would I care if D were poor? Is it the life he can offer that attracts – the smell of money that gives D charm and attraction?

7th Nov 1979

  • Concentrate on P-maths
  • Stew, early dinner
  • Out this evening at 7 pm
  • Get clothes ready

8th Nov 1979

D not as fantastic as I had imagined. He was 30 minutes late to phone because he was busy bargaining for a higher rate of interest on his money. Another thing, he was anxious to get on with his appointments and so wanted to give me the taxi fare home. Shit. Next time, if you must pursue or explore people, Gita, find out their views on Aborigines, politics, religion and money! Anyway, D made it very easy to break clean. We agreed that even if I were free, he would not want to change his way of life, and I would not want to change mine. We were pursuing different aims. So why not call it a day and part good friends? There seems no need for false promises. Very little to add, I suppose, except to realise I mustn’t ‘finger sores’, it tends to be very distracting and extremely discourteous to Johnny. It hurts to think I’ve been a fool yet again – surely the ‘cafe’ business was another. Balance for God’s sake.

9th Nov 1979

Last night was good, with the house full of people and the younger ones doing the after-dinner entertainment. Had a long talk with Johnny. He said what I had done to him was worse than anything he could imagine. However, the thing to concentrate on is Johnny and Gita and their great debt to life. Our life had been built upon trust which I have damaged and must now repair. A big repair job I’m told.

KarenProfileCircle120Notes and Links

  • This journal entry is part of the My Mother’s Voice – Journal Series
  • These posts are meant to be read in sequence and the Preamble post marks the beginning of the journal series. It can be found in Archived on the Home page.
  • A map of where we lived and a family tree are also at the bottom of the Home page, click here.
  • Australian Army soldiers, commonly known as ‘diggers’, were stationed at a training camp near Emu Park.

40. The Aftermath – Journal Entry 30th Oct 1979

Today I have to take a firm stand. Johnny is destroying himself and suffering inordinately. Last night was the worst ever, he says. My rejection, that is my disinclination for lovemaking, is taken as a deep rejection and hurts him very much. I don’t know what to do. Actually, I know what to do – put all thoughts of D from my mind. My relationship with Johnny is the most important thing in the world. It grew over the past fifteen years and we paid for it very dearly. The present family is very precious. There should have been no question of prolonging the agony and indecision for so long. I can’t think clearly. I don’t want to think clearly.

It is nice sitting at the desk and writing. The wind is very strong, parts of the house rattle and the pine trees are singing. The little sunbird has started sitting on her eggs. She seems unafraid, her curved beak is visible, looking like a witch’s nose.

The cramps in my leg are annoying, still, such wonderful news on my health. Will telephone Dr Russ in the middle of November.

Let’s build on strengths, rather than dwell on weaknesses:

Simplicity
Excellence
Hospitality
Warmth
Contributing
Care

Discussion on the above list ended rather disastrously, mainly my fault for side-tracking this year, very poor performance, most anti- intelligence, care, etc. I saw it in Johnny’s attack on me personally. Practically reduced to tears.

Never mind, let’s dwell on weaknesses:

  • I want to be treated differently, to be given privileges which others don’t get;
  • I stay in bed trying to sleep with a full bladder;
  • I go on unreasonable tracks (1) cafe and catering business (2) wanting to stop drinking on the grounds that alcohol destroys brain cells (3) work at the hotel (4) affair with D;
  • Most important: very short-term thinker and lose sight of objective or direction very easily.

What are my strengths?
What do I want to do now, in the next year, in five years from now?

31st Oct 1979

Johnny wrote this after I noticed a wry smile on his face this morning and asked what he was thinking:

“I woke up and lay happily absorbed with her, absorbed in the beauty of her skin; and then recalled with a slow shock, the monster thing.

Wondered how I would go in the same position, but I knew that.

Recalled the times a little tempted by the possibility of liaison and each time had thought of her and our love and ruled it out. Even in recent months, frustrated beyond endurance, with fantasies of beautiful girls, I said to myself each time, you know bloody well you wouldn’t do it Johnny. Something strange is happening but you could not betray Gita. Sex could never be so good as you and she have known it.

Recalled how last night, all the time, she avoided saying, ‘I love you.’ But these moments together are true, pure, good and wonderful.

Will she chase the monster thing away?
We’ll see tonight perhaps.

I believe that Gita goes my way too, but she is not far-sighted and occasionally cultivates strange obsessions. I wonder too whether the monster thing is her first infatuation after meeting me (and that young Frenchman, years before). Perhaps she doesn’t recognise it or think of handling it.

As the stronger partner, my betrayal of her would be worse than hers of me.”

1st Nov 1979

At 12 noon yesterday, I reached a decision. Go home Gita and stay there. There was really no choice. The affair with D was all fantasy and escapism. All the pain and hurt was one-sided and my beautiful, kind, sensitive, intelligent, innocent Johnny was hurt the most.

So I cooked a carefully chosen Indian meal for Johnny. Made coffee for his early return and was happy to make tentative steps out of limbo.

How soon will we heal, what should I do to make up, to compensate for the days of terror that Johnny lived through? His terror has not gone away completely. Will it ever?

A very happy evening with wonderful lovemaking. God, how tame the phrase is. The alternative is to fill several pages with a detailed description of what took place, but I won’t. Best ever?

The rain lilies were white and crowded on the lawn in the moonlight. Johnny and I stepped carefully between them to avoid damage, while taking quiet pleasure in their beauty. Strange and hardy things these rain lilies. This lot was very short-stalked. Their leaves had not had a chance to grow because of the long dry weather, so only the buds pushed through the parched ground. Watering them does not produce the flowers. They only seem to respond to rain and their bulbs keep underground for years. Tova barbecued and ate some of the bulbs. She said they tasted delicious, but they made her and Bob sick for two days.

Happiness was waiting for mum to come back on the bus from a bowling match in Rocky. Tired from our long evening of sex and booze, we sat in the bus stop shivering a little in the cool midnight air. When the bus did come, mum hadn’t noticed our car and got off to a smart trot up the hill. We frightened her, as she thought we might have been soldiers. We slept well, except for Johnny who woke up at 2 am with a bad intestinal pain.

He gave me a good idea of how to get out of this latest self-absorption – concentrate on Johnny!

So many good things to be getting on with, but also a great deal of rebuilding:

  • Study Algebra
  • Study Computer Science I (a skill if needed)
  • French or Chinese (French first, I think)
  • Lots of reading and writing
  • Teach self to read faster
  • House and family
  • Johnny of course

A nine o’clock rule has been in force since last Saturday. No work after 9 pm and meet in the study.

KarenProfileCircle120Notes and Links

  • This journal entry is part of the My Mother’s Voice – Journal Series
  • These posts are meant to be read in sequence and the Preamble post marks the beginning of the journal series. It can be found in Archived on the Home page.
  • A map of where we lived and a family tree are also at the bottom of the Home page, click here.

39. Relationship Breakdown – Journal Entry 10th Oct 1979

Johnny is a civilised bastard. He makes me feel secure. I see hair and I want to singe it, a habit I acquired from singeing the scraggy ends of my hair.

13th Oct 1979

Johnny sees no hope in his job and in his home. He has hardly seen me for the past few weeks. Says he is even lower on my list of priorities than P-maths and that I appear to be systematically destroying our relationship. He has to hang around most of the time waiting for me, occasionally we have a good evening together. Johnny’s in a bad way; says I have reduced him to a blubbering mess.

My God, this is terrible – a wonderful guy, thoroughly trapped through his love and kindness. What have we given him in return? He is destroying himself in his work because he has all of us to support and cannot just walk out to part-time teaching. He would use his spare time so well.

He calls my suggestions to free him, crazy. I suppose they are. He is to go wherever he wishes. We get support from the Government or work. It is crazy because while mum and Barb could get money, they will be seriously disadvantaged if they don’t have family support. Sure, we can make it on our own but how much warmer and richer our lives are through living together and cooperating. So where’s the problem?

Well, the big problem is me.

A look around the home and a quick scan into my past, gives me a very gloomy opinion of myself. There is a serious air of neglect in the house. I’m always caught up in things, no time to keep the house reasonably tidy and always getting side-tracked. Worse still, the children are infected by my bad habits, slack thinking and behaviour. Are there any good points?

Most of what I am interested in, Johnny possesses, and more besides for his knowledge is years ahead of most people. He is so good-looking, experienced in so many good things and yet, yet I cannot seem to respond steadily.

A couple of nights a week, and then nothing.

What hope is there?

If I love Johnny and help him, then he is not a mess. We have debts and a tight budget for a few more years. He is in a mess if I don’t love him. Then he has nothing and the burden he carries will be unbearable.

14th Oct 1979

The Fiesta captain to trawler in front, over the address system: “Okay guys, give us about ten feet of slack please.” Laughter from the guys in the trawler and dinghies.

It’s good to be sitting in the harbour. The sun is low and warm, the wind not very strong, so it’s pleasant walking about. The second boat has come in full of day-trippers to Keppel Island. I want to watch the people getting off.

18th Oct 1979

A few very dramatic days.

On Saturday, Johnny asked me if I had been unfaithful to him. I ducked the issue. The question was a result of my insistently questioning him on what his attitude to me would be if I were unfaithful. His question was precise, “Are you intending to be unfaithful or have you been unfaithful?”

What was talked over the weekend and early week seems blurred, so soon too. I think most of my talk was manoeuvring Johnny into agreeing to my going away for a weekend or a week. First I said a few months, then reduced it to a week or weekend.

To questions on what I intended to do while away I replied, “Think and just wander around.”

Now there seems no chance of going away. I mustn’t. Sunday night was terrible. I was jittery and my thoughts were far away. I will have to brutally sort them out. Will do so right away and then come back to writing about what took place between Johnny and I.

After fifteen years of being free and devoted to Johnny, I go into a relationship with another man.

“What is he like?”
“What do you mean?”
“As a person.”
“Oh, as a person.” I had to think carefully.

He is good with people, very easy to be with. At the first meeting there was instant recognition of male and female. There was some chat together. He was setting out on a boat with a crew of three or four. The men were packing food and dinghies into the car. He didn’t have to do anything; at the Hotel there are always people doing jobs for him, even taking his crushed shirt off him and ironing it.

The next meeting was when D returned – the weather wasn’t good, so they returned a few days later. We had a talk about four-wheel-drive camping spots on the coast. We always only snatched an exchange when he passed by on his way from some place to another. He also watched me from a distance. A very restless man. Even though he owned the place, to me he seemed not welcomed because of his position, almost alien. Old man T told me of D’s love life and the women involved. D is alleged to have said he likes women

Wild promises made to me by D. “I’ll give everything up for you. Come to Europe for three months. I’ll buy a house here so I get more privacy and not mess up accommodation arrangements at the hotel.”

When he realised the extent of my family commitments he knew all he could hope for was a little of my time. He wants to show me many things, take me to so many places. Alas, there is no future for us, nor a present. He wants an heir and time is running out for him, so he must get another woman.

How do I feel about that?
No right to feel anything. I’d be happy for him and the child. He is good with children. What have I gauged about D?
First his general appearance: he is a little taller than me, 50 years old, holds himself well because of army training and is overweight (but otherwise brown and fit). Has admitted he is restless, always on the move. D has blue eyes and short wiry brown hair. He has a lovely smile and a quiet sense of humour. D is relatively unspoilt in spite of his wealth, but all the same, makes remarks like, “What are the damages?” He pays with money, as if that would cover everything. He believes everyone has a price. I’ll admit he might have been in a tense mood when he said these things.

“I can’t get you out of my mind,” he said when I saw him next. “I had to wait two weeks to get your phone number. I’ve been thinking about you. You little devil, I wish I had never met you, I mean that, this is terrible. I want you with me all the time. I’d take you with me everywhere.” An achievement I think, because D likes moving around alone – more freedom for sexual opportunity?

I laughed and said, “I wished most heartily we had never met.”

“I’m alive when I’m with you,” he said while breathing deeply and leaning back in his seat. “I don’t want to meet your husband, it would spoil things.”

A cruel laugh from me and, “Good, it would solve our problem.”

He gave me a wry look. If I hadn’t seen him in dark blue shorts and shirt relaxed and cleaning the boat I don’t know if I’d have gone with him a second time because he looks very like a Gold Coast businessman – no, I don’t think that’s right.

Anyway, I’ve written him a letter that he will get sooner or later. It is written to end a love affair – let us forget each other – take someone else and be happy. Soulful stuff. I’m not free, so don’t hold yourself up, get on with producing a child as I cannot give you one.

A brutal remark to Johnny when I told him I thought I was in love with someone else: “I don’t want to be here. Do you realise that? That’s how I feel about things.

“It’s more serious than I thought,” Johnny muttered.

I want to go to D but I have a feeling I’d soon find him dull and deadening. I don’t know, it is very presumptuous of me to make this completely unfounded judgement. He is an exciting man and good to be with, but I know nothing about him and there isn’t the complete trust in him that I had, and still have in Johnny. A bit unfair really because I haven’t known D very long and he’s usually surrounded by people. He has to watch what he says for fear of compromising me.

He is free and has no need to hide his women.

KarenProfileCircle120Notes and Links

  • This journal entry is part of the My Mother’s Voice – Journal Series
  • These posts are meant to be read in sequence and the Preamble post marks the beginning of the journal series. It can be found in Archived on the Home page.
  • A map of where we lived and a family tree are also at the bottom of the Home page, click here.

38. Memories of India – Journal Entry 30th Apr 1979

It was good to receive your letter. We wondered how you had gone with the interview. Johnny certainly enjoyed reading your letter as good letter writers are so rare.

The photographs were very informative, they revived memories and feelings that have been sternly suppressed for twelve years. One is of course grateful for any scrap of news. Averil in a sari was a heartening sight. Johnny and I feel very strongly about being as Indian as possible in India, one is Indian, and any other way is slightly suicidal. Yes, it’s easy for us to speak from this comfortable distance, but we love and miss many of the good things of India. Indians abroad are usually invited to speak on India and are asked many questions about religion, poverty, food, clothing, etc.

I’ve run adult education classes on Indian cooking and given a few talks and demonstrations at the local high school. Many of our Indian friends tell us quietly, but with amusement, that they have had to visit the nearby libraries so they are able to answer the queries put to them about India.

I regret very much not having bothered to learn more of the culture I was born in. Had I a choice of an overseas holiday, I would most likely spend it in India, pursuing a few of my interests like kolams and regional cooking.

I’ve written a teach-yourself-to-cook Indian cookbook but haven’t bothered to revise the manuscript, something I’d been meaning to get to daily for the past three years!

Perhaps R can swap recipes? For instance, I’ve tried making Naan roti but have yet to achieve a reasonable one. The recipe books are not much use. What actually goes into Naan and should the oven be hotter than 550 degrees F?

Today gran and I made brinjal pickle (homegrown) and lemon pickle too. The lemon pickle recipe is one your mother taught us when we were kids.

We can grow most Indian vegetables if we have the seed. We have to depend on what’s available through the seed companies as seeds are not allowed into the country. Our most precious plants are two curry leaf seedlings. We grow, or have grown, okra, brinjal, four different types of chilli, guavas, mangoes, spinach, bitter gourd, snake gourd, pumpkin and dhal greens. Not the proper dhal greens, a weed, but good enough. The house we bought already had four large mango trees.

Gran (or Nana, as you call her) is the keen gardener and raiser of chicks and ducks. The garden suffers when she gets a temporary job – usually looking after invalid old ladies. At the moment she is sewing hats, bags and shirts, to sell in a friend’s craft shop.

19th May 1979

Have lost my perspective of what I was going to do this year. Sidetracked again but something good and right came up. Joan has formed a catering group and there is much work to be done before any return can be seen. In the meantime I have neglected P-maths and am very agitated. Need to sort myself out.

Jobs Pending
  • Meals On Wheels (M.O.W.) – ask Janet to take over
  • Pancakes for tuckshop – what should I do? Give it away?
  • Candles – lots of wax to be used up
  • Plants at Magnussons – continue?
  • Garden – needs attention
  • Chooks and pen
  • Family, of course
  • Car Maintenance

Just phoned Janet, she will take over M.O.W. Also ordered some avocados for Monday evening.

3rd Jul 1979

A few things have to be planned for next week. I’m away Tuesday and Wednesday nights. And maybe Thursday?

  • Cheque to Bankcard
  • Letter of resignation
  • Make cooking and house notes for family
  • Lots of P-maths
  • Sort out insurances
  • Visit Cyss
  • Johnny’s clothes need to be prepared.

Cleansing Diet

The general idea is that if the body is purified, it will heal itself.
So apply (1) and (2) on alternate days.

Breakfast (1)
Grated pineapple with grated seeds
(almonds but not peanuts)

Breakfast (2)
Plain biscuits with butter
1 slice wholemeal toast
2 lightly poached eggs

Mid-morning: juice 3 oranges

Lunch (1)
Salad (any)
Raisin, nuts

Lunch (2)
Fruit (apples in particular)

Mid-afternoon: 3 oranges

Dinner (1)
Steamed veg
Veg rissoles (onions, egg, no sauces)

Dinner (2)
Salad
Nutmeat

No liquids for an hour before and two hours after a meal. No meat, condiments, tea or coffee. If sweets are craved, eat brown rice with milk but no sugar, yoghurt or custard without sugar. Drink Kurk brew instead of tea or coffee.

***

The pain is constant. Time, that clichéd healer, should dull it, but at the moment I welcome the pain – in fact, I deliberately foster it.

Absolute folly, it interferes with day-to-day activities. I wish to write it off as a delightfully human and rare experience and leave it at that. What else is there to do? You must get on with your life, and soon, please. We only have one life each of us, and the years go so quickly. I agree most heartily, I wish we had never met, the agony is terrible. The conflict for me is awful.

All this must seem rather dramatic to you but what the hell, if we can’t make love let us at least attempt to make literature! Shall I put you in a book and thereby absorb you in a less destructive way?

In what way is my behaviour different from Barbie’s behaviour when she withdraws? I have the same urge to be by myself, I don’t feel hungry, well not as much as I normally do. I like wandering about in the garden and I can’t concentrate. Sleep is at a minimum.

The disco was fun. I danced from the time I got there to finishing time which was 11:30pm. My partner was ‘stretch’, a very tall guy. He was young and clean and wore glasses, which gave the impression he was learned. Took a crowd afterwards to the Singing Ship. The moon was disturbingly bright. The young ones went off to make wishes at the well. I sat in the moke and brooded. It had been a wonderful evening.

There is no future or present, only a brief past. A past that should not have been.

KarenProfileCircle120Notes and Links

  • This journal entry is part of the My Mother’s Voice – Journal Series
  • These posts are meant to be read in sequence and the Preamble post marks the beginning of the journal series. It can be found in Archived on the Home page.
  • A map of where we lived and a family tree are also at the bottom of the Home page, click here.
  • In Emu Park: “The Singing Ship memorial commemorates Captain Cook`s Bicentenary in 1970 and marks his exploration of the bay in May, 1770. The memorial represents the billowing sail, mast and rigging of his ship Endeavour. Concealed organ pipes use the sea breezes to create eerie music.” Ref: Monument Australia, click here.

35. A Short Course in Just Writing – Journal Entry 31st Jan 1979

Second day of organising the breakfast and school lunches. When I went for the bread, Bernice told me not to feed stale bread to the chooks late in the afternoon. They roost soon after eating and the bread sours in the crop which, he tells me, is not good for them.

This morning I put shell grit and sand in containers in most of the coops – even for the fluffy yellow ducklings. The Rouen duck pond was slushy and almost dry so I filled that up. The lame Australorp chick has been given back to it’s mother and it may not survive but it cheeped so much there was little choice. The three scrawny filthy white chicks that were sick, seem much better today. All of Marcello’s bantam eggs under the hen are addled. The wind still blows, it must be the sixth day of high winds. The high tides were quite destructive, the radio tells us. The house is quiet without the children. For Marcello and Karen, it’s their first day back at school.

It’s 10am. Let me list what I’ve done so far:

5:30am exercise
5:50am usual jobs in the kitchen – lunches, supervising Barbara, breakfast, washing up, chopping onions, getting meat for chicks
9:00am went to the pen to check on livestock

Back at my desk. Checked with Radio Rentals over the return of the T.V. and date of contract. They decided that having accepted the T.V. they’d take responsibility, which was very decent of them. We have an option to take it back within six months.

It was good to hear from Lyn after so long and she seems to be doing well. Mark seems to be thriving also. I’m hungry and I’d better start P-Maths now.

Jobs waiting:
-car insurance
-Chandlers
-subsidy
-note to marriage counselling
-roster to Mrs Tennent
-letter to Mr Braithwaite

4th Feb 1979

Notes on A Short Course in Just Writing by Bill Bernhardt, in an article in Teachers & Writers Collaborative Newsletter, Vol 6, No 2, 1975

Page 1

  • Which comes first when you speak, knowing that you have something you want to say or the words? Test yourself to find out.
  • Make a short statement out loud.
  • Write down the same words you said. Are you sure that you wrote the same words? How can you tell? Can you make a much longer statement and write down the words accurately? (It doesn’t matter if you misspell)
  • Think of something else you could say, but instead of speaking, write it down without speaking.
  • Can you think of something to say and write the words down as they come into your mind, without taking the time to say them to yourself first?

Page 2

  • Take a pencil and a piece of blank paper and write continuously for three minutes. Pay no attention to whether what you write makes sense or is spelled correctly. If you can’t think of what to say, just write down all the words you can think of. When you’ve finished, turn the paper over without reading what you wrote.
  • Write for three more minutes on the reverse side of the paper following the same directions.
  • Write for three more minutes on a second sheet of paper. Count how many words you wrote each time. Did your output increase the second and/or the third time? Read what you wrote aloud and listen to yourself. Does it make sense? Does it sound like the English you speak?

Page 3

  • Complete the following sentence by adding one word at the end: As they turned the corner they saw…
    Copy the completed sentence onto the top of a blank sheet of paper and continue by writing a second sentence which begins with the word: Maybe…
    Add a third sentence to the story.
    Add five more sentences to the story.
    End the story.
    How much of the story was given to you and how much did you have to provide? Could you see in your mind what was happening in the story? If so, was it like a picture or movie? Did you see all of it at the beginning or did more come into your mind as you continued? Can you see it all again when you read the story over?
  • Close your eyes and picture in your mind a difficult or embarrassing situation. Describe in writing what the situation is. Write what you would say to get yourself out of that situation.
  • Do this again with a pleasant situation.

Page 5

  • Write rapidly for 10 minutes without stopping or pausing to make corrections. When you have finished writing, put the paper aside, without reading what you write – for at least 20 minutes.
  • Read what you wrote aloud, making sure you do two things:
    (1) Read exactly what is written on the paper.
    (2) Listen to yourself reading and catch the points when what you hear fails to make sense or sounds ‘funny’. If you find anything which doesn’t make sense, change the words so that it does make sense. If you find anything which sounds funny, change it so that it sounds right.
    When you finish, read the corrected copy over again to see if you need to make further changes.
  • Is it easier to make corrections and improvements at the same moment you are writing down what you want to say or at a later time?
  • Do writing and making corrections require the same state of mind? Or a different state of mind?

KarenProfileCircle120Notes and Links

  • Click here to go to Home
  • This journal entry is part of the My Mother’s Voice – Journal Series

34. Catching Up On Letters – Journal Entry 13th Jan 1979

The weather is humid, the sky overcast and there’s a steady roar of mowers.

We have been rearranging furniture in various rooms. Brown built bookshelves have replaced our wooden shelves. Some planks went to Marcello’s room to make shelves. Mum moved boxes, from under her bed, to a shelf over her bedroom door. I’m now in the file room and my old desk has gone to the verandah for a sewing table. The pink table is still for glass cutting. Now the house looks a lot tidier and workmanlike.

Finished Illich’s Tools for Conviviality:
– Must use verbs rather than nouns
– Limits should be set on the use and growth of tools and the type of tools used

I must catch up on my letters.

Rolf,
I called on Herman after talking to you. He was shocked at the price too and mentioned “having it out” with one or two people. I pointed out that the object of the exercise – in view of the letter from the Council – was to get the darn thing fixed. He agreed. I also pointed out that if we argued now, we’d find it difficult to get the job done. He agreed with that too and said the plumber at Keppel Sands was terrible anyway. He couldn’t think of alternatives. If you wish to sue someone later, you may do so, but frankly it’s not worth the effort. I told Herman the history of the septic tank, as told to me by J.A.

Herman said that if what I said was true, the man who installed it was not licensed to have done so. I was also told by J.A. that Emu Park must have the worst drainage system for miles around with lots of clay. However, I looked at your place. The allotment next to you has had an electric pole erected quite near yours. Water appears to be sitting in the gutter on the road and right across the allotment entrance. I don’t think we have to look far for the informant.

Marcello mowed and cleaned up the yard after the runaway tenants and now doesn’t owe you any money. Herman has agreed to do the yard – we thought it a diplomatic gesture; Marcello doesn’t mind and I hope you don’t. I told Herman how much Marcello charged. Business is not good at the moment and they’re glad of odd jobs.

Herman said Julie had someone about to move in but I can’t confirm yet and the real estate phoned today to say he has a tenant, so I directed him to Julie. Herman is also trying to sell a house (to get money for building materials to give his boys work) and wanted to know if you wanted him to try and sell yours too. If any more house problems arise do let us know directly, or through Herman, as four heads are better than two.

Frank,
After all the trouble you’ve taken to give me forms for the Indian cooking, I’ve decided I’d be pushing my luck trying to run good cooking courses while studying maths. My fairly large family also make demands on my time, I’d better concentrate on a bit of study, so I can be a more useful member of the community. It’s a pity really because I could do with the money. However, I’m still interested in Worrabinda, but at the weekends. Also, anything going on out west to which I can contribute – even candles – let me know. If pushed, I can stretch the course!

Hamish,
Thank you very much for your card. May you have an excellent 1979. I met Cathy the other day and got some news of you. I hope your new home is as nice as the one you had at Emu Park. Things are very quiet, one soldiers on. It was good to have Rolf with us for a few days in mid-December. Otherwise, it’s chooks and garden and some S.F. and Illich and much discussion of unemployment, rapid change, bewilderment, anxiety, government, UFOs and some bad chess.

Doris,
It was good to receive your card. May you have an excellent 1979. Over here, things are quiet, uneventful, yet hellishly busy. The Rover has had an engine transplant (a Holden engine) and we’ve managed to camp twice at Five Rocks. We’re leaving on Thursday on our third camp to round off the school holidays. Apart from life getting tougher, what else is there in the new future dear friends?

Andrew,
I must apologise for the inordinate delay in replying to your letter. Also for not noting you had given me Greg’s number and hence taking so long to contact him. I sent a message through a neighbour which didn’t reach him.

However, this is the present state of play: Greg is building a new boat and won’t be going anywhere this year. His brother Chris may be going in June or July and Greg will ask his brother if he would bring the birds to you. I’m to await a reply.

I’ve asked several people but so far no luck. The present price for guinea fowl is $5 for an adult and $2 for a chick. If the arrangement with Chris does not come off, I thought I might send eggs through the post. They’re less likely to die on the way, if well-packed. Then all you need to do is hatch them with a foster-bird, preferably a duck for the goose eggs. You can see the advantages, can’t you, of having a large brood straight away instead of waiting for the adult birds to breed? Geese start laying in August. I know guinea fowl lay around that time too. But whether the guinea fowl lay twice a year, I’m not sure. I do know they don’t lay eggs as often as hens.

I was going to contact a woman for pheasants, but she has sold or given them all away. I was told that someone in Mackay has pheasants. You may wish to make enquiries. In the meantime, I changed my mind about attempting to get some for myself. I’d like to reduce our bird stock to a manageable size so that when we go camping, the neighbour’s daughter can look after the poultry.

I haven’t yet thanked you for your nice long letter. Please write as much and as often as you like. The kids and I are keen on poultry, goats, veg and islands and thoroughly enjoyed reading your letter.

My widowed mother lives with us too and it’s thanks to her efforts that we have a thriving poultry yard and a reasonably productive vegetable garden.

The kids help (Gareth 10 years old, Karen 15 years, Marcello 17 years and Monika 17 years) and are amazed at the results of their labour. They cleared a patch of garden, which we reclaimed, dumped an old mattress, paper and household rubbish, then mulched the top with lots of cut lucerne and grass clippings. My mother and I then planted honey dew melons, okra, tomato and pumpkin. Now the area is a profusion of leaves and vines with okra, capsicum and tomato sticking out here and there above the pumpkin leaves. We also grow a lot of eggplant. It is hardy and prolific. Today is the 23rd of January and there’s a gusty wind blowing through the Queensland hoop pine trees. The sun is shining after yesterday’s heavy rain. The garden is well soaked, a blessed relief after such a long, dry spell. We have water restrictions so no sprinklers are allowed, only hand-held hoses.

I’ve started reading a fascinating book entitled, The Secret Life of Plants by Peter Tomkins and Christopher Bird. I’m halfway through and will have to read it several times (and read some of the other books referred in it) before I can digest it. Even this preliminary reading is mind-bursting. Much of it may be familiar to you, who are so much in contact with plants and growing and caring for them. If you can borrow or buy a copy of this book, please do so.

We were to go camping at Stockyard Point (just north of Corio Bay) but decided the road would be too boggy even for a Land Rover with winch attached. So we’re staying home for the last 5 days of the children’s school holidays. We’ll go to the swamp to collect duckweed for the ducks, play cards, read, cook big festive meals and generally live it up.

Kim and Jill called some while back. It was good to see them so brown and physically fit. They gave me more details of your island.

KarenProfileCircle120Notes and Links

  • Click here to go to Home
  • This journal entry is part of the My Mother’s Voice – Journal Series