92. Exam Stress – Journal Entry 14th June 1982

What needs to be done today?  I still can’t decide what to make for tomorrow’s meal, but first, I must memorise the forms for accounting, do the inventory exercises and finish the last question in the practice exam paper. Johnny’s clothes also need ironing, my next task, and perhaps I can ask Barbara and Gareth to bring up the wood.

16th June 1982

I feel quite gloomy over my performance at yesterday’s exam, even though the subject matter was easy and the exam quite straightforward. I know exactly what happened… I tackled a problem, which I had planned to leave until the end, yet missed a relatively easy question because I assumed I would have to remember the form, when in fact, the form was given. Of course I didn’t realise this until I opened the booklet for answers but even then I didn’t switch the order of questions. Perhaps students ought to be told some forms will be given? And that there are a choice of questions? Now I’m not looking forward to the programming exam because it is trickier and I lack the speed of mind and hand, especially in examinations, where careful revision is required.

Pirsig divides people by classical and romantic modes of understanding. The classical mode is straightforward, unadorned, unemotional, economical and carefully proportioned. Classical understanding is seeing the world primarily as the underlying form itself. Romantic understanding, on the other hand, is seeing the world primarily in terms of immediate appearance and the mode is inspirational, imaginative, creative, intuitive, with feeling rather than fact. The classical aesthetic is often missed by romantics. I must discuss this further with Johnny. I remember his comment that science ignores art at its peril; art is more important than science.

I had eight hours of sleep last night, which is unusual, and stayed in bed for half an hour reading Illich’s article, Vernacular Gender, a provocative piece. Johnny tried to coax me out of bed, to which I responded angrily,  telling him I did not need to leap out of bed this morning as he was leaving late. As it turned out, he only left a little later than usual. He had intended to work at home today but as Mick wanted some notes on the ecumenical course to be run by the priests next year, Johnny stayed up late last night and will take the report to the Institute this morning to be typed and photocopied. He should be home earlier than usual.

I had depressing and rash thoughts on the way back from the exam yesterday. What is the use of studying since I had not performed well in any of the exams so far? Next semester will be much harder. How was I doing to cope? Perhaps I ought to drop out and not embarrass Johnny any more. Am I embarrassing him all that much? Next semester, Karen and I will be sitting the same exam. I wonder how we will perform? I do want to continue methodology as I’m interested in the material and how it is conducted but then there is cost accounting, Programming 1B and Calculus 1B. I’ll stop now and make a detailed plan of Pascal revision.

18th June 1982

It is 9 am and too cold at my desk, so I am working on the side verandah. It is so hot I need to wear a large brimmed hat to keep direct sunlight off my head and avoid a headache. Mum is in the garden with her radio on full blast. I wish she could keep it close to her on low volume, I can’t hear Wagner’s “Siegfried Idyll” on FM. Rang Toby to arrange a scramble on the rocks at Voss’ Point next Wednesday.

I felt extremely sleepy today and decided to water the stressed-looking ferns near Marcello’s blue car to give myself a break. The hose had a leak and repairing it was a surprisingly pleasant task: first I smoothed black sealant over the leak, wrapped a bandage over it as snugly as possible and then covered the bandage with more sealant. This repair looks good, but the fix to the hose for the chicken pen is not as effective and I will have to remove the sealant and repair it once more.

Time to stop distracting myself with minor tasks and tackle an exam paper.

91. Citizens Bureau – Journal Entry 11th June 1982

A broken-down fridge is the latest problem in our household, but little help is to be expected from a professional on a long weekend. One really should be able to contact a 24 hr Citizens Bureau with suggestions on how to cope with things that can go wrong in a household. If we could get a spare fridge from somewhere, there would be much less urgency over the repairs and we could then decide at our leisure who would be best for the job. Failing appliances and interruptions to the supply of water, electricity and gas usually happen at an awkward time.

Monika may come home today after giving birth to TJ, if the doctor agrees to let her out of the hospital after only three days.

I am finding it extremely difficult to settle down to my studies. The warmth outside is alluring, winter here is so mild and enjoyable, and the garden is more pleasant than our cold study. The vegetable garden is thriving, so I want to sit in the warm sun and weed, hoe or plant more seeds. Besides, there are books to be read and bread to be baked. I must pull myself together and stop avoiding my study, stop eating lotuses and stop being distracted by household tasks. I only have four days to the accounting exam and it’s closed book, perish the thought. Must stop.

Marcello and Gareth are away for the night and I am at the desk again, this time determined not to get sidetracked by minor jobs, errands or watching mediocre TV shows. Once I get started, my studies are quite enjoyable and interesting, however, it is easy to get distracted when young Nathaniel comes to talk or needs attention. Human relations are important, but when do I get on with what I set myself? Is the study of computers or accounting so important compared with that? And what about talking and working with my mother? Surely it is just a matter of scheduling one’s work and disciplining oneself?

12th June 1982

My Johnny has gone to pick up Gareth, who is at the Thorntons in Rocky, so I can stay at home and write in my diary. Control yourself and you have freedom, says Johnny on his way out.

As well as exercising and writing in my diary every day, I would also like to write stories or articles, play chess and spend more time at the park or beach rather than at home. When reading a classic, one needs to discuss a concept or word, even a whole page.

Fortunately, today has not been completely unproductive: I made bread, reviewed a chapter on financial accounting procedure, fed the chooks, looked for eggs, wheeled up two loads of wood, picked greens from the patch about to be worked on, made lunch for Mum so she would not be late for her meeting, zonked out after lunch for an hour and read a Maigret short story by Simenon. I must plan my vacation well since I have a full study load next semester. Calculus could be quite time-consuming and I am constantly fighting a strong urge to give it all up and concentrate on writing but at this stage that would be foolish. My studies have been extremely useful and help me think more clearly. Although the Methodology subject requires revision, it seems promising, helping students sort out problems in a constructive way.

Mum told me this morning that I didn’t listen to what she had to say and that I was not interested in what she had to say. Unfortunately, she is partly right. I’m not that interested and tend to switch off because she invariably repeats herself, like Barbara. Instead of being receptive or helpful, I avoid involvement with the activities mum and Barbara are enthusiastic about, such as shell collecting or fern growing.

13th June 1982

We had a thoroughly enjoyable breakfast on Zilzie beach again with Roger and Christine, a fine idea of theirs which would be hard to beat unless we take them on a camp at Five Rocks. The family has not been camping for a long time—not a real camp. We don’t consider camping at Stoney Creek the real thing since it is too close to civilisation. Of course, living one’s life in the garden would make daily living a camping holiday.

My dream would be a house that opens up to or includes the garden and that is capable of being partly or fully closed to protect against the wind, rain or too much sun. Our present house is not designed for that, the Queensland-style verandahs have been closed in to serve as extra rooms and to keep out the rain. All the bedrooms are set quite far in with no direct sunlight and ceiling or sky windows are not practical with our roof. I wonder if we can redesign the house or part of it instead of building a new one? If we had the time or money, we could renovate under our house where there is adequate space for three rooms looking out through the pine trees to the sea.

Love is a topic I have pondered upon for a long time, with no clear idea of how to write about it. I’ve looked at D. H. Lawrence’s treatment of love and passion in Lady Chatterley’s Lover, as well as Chaucer, Shakespeare, Han Suyin and Erica Jong. I have even read love stories in the Australian Women’s Weekly and Plato (symposium).

Love is very much a process which has to be nurtured. Love evolves in a relationship and changes the people in love.

I think I should approach the subject by writing a love story like Chaucer’s Troilus and Criseyde, Han Suyin’s A Many-Splendoured Thing and Lady Chatterley’s Lover, poetry, pop songs full of love, in fact, love seems to occupy a greater part of most people’s lives and thoughts.

89. Reflections – Journal Entry 9th February 1982

It is a lovely morning, the household has eaten breakfast and everyone is busy getting on with their day. The time is 7:15 am, Monika and Barbara are at the bus stop, Johnny is about to leave for work and I will ask Gareth to help me put out the garbage. Johnny and I went to the garage earlier to fill the Rover with petrol and put air into the tyres so I can drive grandma to her afternoon bowling.

This is Monika’s typewriter, and I am finding it difficult to use it after an electric machine. One has to hit the keys so much harder and slow down considerably to give the keys time to get back into place.

Yesterday I followed the first half of the day’s schedule and then settled down for a couple of hours to read Johnny’s earliest letters. I took a stroll on the beach with Gran, Monika and Nathaniel for half an hour, but couldn’t fully relax, I was longing to get back to the letters. I wanted to read my early letters to Johnny, starting with our long train journey to Benares. Unfortunately, on our return I noticed the house needed attention, so with my mind elsewhere, I cleaned and dusted. Then Gran asked for some help to prepare our evening meal which meant I couldn’t get back to the letters until after dinner. Johnny went to meet a new member of staff from Canada at Rocky airport, so I settled down to read my journal entry of our train trip. It sounded fun in parts and rather adventurous, especially to one who had never been on a three-day train journey.

The letters are upsetting, fascinating and beautiful, and extremely passionate, especially Johnny’s.

Has living together for fourteen or fifteen years dulled our love for each other?

Certainly, one ghastly incident has placed a large stain on the relationship that one cannot clear away. Our large family and commitments have given us very little time for each other. We are still incredibly close and our relationship has improved, but my ignorance and stubborn ways have marred some of our time together. Now, on reading the letters again I find I was indeed so unaware, Johnny must have been very much in love and endlessly patient to have put up with me all these years. He is so wise, the most understanding and kind man I know, and such a rare human being.

Let me not forget this again, ever.

It is now 7:15 pm and everything went more or less to schedule today. The hardest part of my day was studying as I was constantly fighting the urge to bob up every five minutes from my desk. Now it is time to compose a letter to Madras about the bike parts before Johnny gets home.

86. Pre-Christmas Camp – Journal Entry 13th December 1981

We are at camp. Most of the family are swimming in the creek while I sit at the campsite watching the kettle of water I just placed onto the fire. Breakfast was at 6:30 am and Johnny and Gareth cooked an enormous meal of porridge, fried slices of canned ham, baked beans and fried rice; our typical camping food. For lunch, we shall have canned fish, spam, processed cheese and bread or biscuits. Last night for dinner we ate “hearty beef soup”, corned meat with fried onions, corn and beans. There was no pudding this time; I refused to buy the yucky instant puddings sold in supermarkets. Why does all this canned, freeze-dried and processed cheese taste so good when we are camping? Apart from baked beans and canned fish at home, the family would never eat the food they eat at camp.

We haven’t camped for at least two years and are thirty or forty miles north of Emu Park, not a serious camp by any means. There are miles of wild and empty beaches, mostly Army Reserve land, with great fishing. We used set off in the early morning in our trusty four-wheel drive Rover and spent leisurely days eating oysters off the rocks and many hours trying to catch fish. Marcello was the only one who had the patience for fishing. Occasionally we would find the odd treasure here and there, much to the delight of the children: rusty anchors, blue and green glass floats encased in heavy macrame mesh, Taiwanese oil jars and a few beautiful shells.

16 Dec 1981

This week I shall get on top of the mildew in the bathroom and mend the fences and coops. On Thursday we have planned a trip to Rockhampton where the family will swim, rummage around the shops, have lunch in the park, spend a few hours at the library, swim again and return home.

In the garden, the banana trees need attention, as do the okra and bean plants. I will have to plant more okra and beans and make sure that the lawns are mowed; everything grows so fast in summer.

I must finish Gellner’s Legitimation of Belief and press on with my studies of Pascal and Functions, however, that will be after I make mango pickle.

80. Pork Vindaloo – Journal Entry 8th October 1981

Today I have a long list of jobs to do; household tasks like washing and hanging out clothes, making the veal tail stew and preparing a basket for our trip to Rocky. On the way I will pick up wax sheets for the candles, take mum to the Cultural Centre, visit the library, get money from the post office and pick up the refund at Medibank. I also need to find shirts for Gareth, a raincoat for Barbara, material for Gran and stop for lunch, our usual fish and chips and fizzy drinks in the park.

Even I’m calling mum Gran these days since all the children, their friends and our friends call her Grandma.

The trip to Tanby for the wax took over an hour with a delightful visit to the Blanks shed. There were hives, huge vats of honey, boxes full of squeezed honeycomb and bees buzzing around boxes in the yard. Under the house were stacks of new hive boxes with frames waiting to have the foundation sheets pressed on.

Blank has a scheme for making money from pollen.
“What stopped you doing this before?” I query.
“Lack of pollen,” he shrugs.
“Where would the pollen come from now?” I press him to elaborate.
He explained that he was going to Mackay to spread his beehives around but expects trouble from the Mackay people who don’t like his bees. Such is the life of a beekeeper.

9th Oct 1981

Dinner tonight will be baked salmon, rice, peas, tomato salad, Johnny’s excellent homemade capsicum sauce followed by Danish pastries. The capsicum sauce looks fiery red on the pink fish. Perhaps I should make saffron rice to add to the colour scheme?

Monika took Barbara to the bus stop so I washed up the breakfast dishes, minced the sheep hearts for the new chicks and fed the chickens. The older chick that had been quite sick seems to be getting better. I collected the eggs and hung out the washing and was at my desk by 8:30am. Johnny is at home today; after I managed to put in some solid study on my Calculus problems finding relative extrema, we had an enjoyable lunch of bread, cheese, olives and wine.

Nathaniel is now being weaned before his nap. He cried, ate four coconut macaroons and vomited, then vomited again. Monika gave him several baths to calm him down, wheeled him in the pram and put him in bed but he would not sleep. By 3:40pm Monika and Nathaniel called a truce; he stopped crying and played cheerfully about until dinner time and then fell asleep when Monika took him for a ride with Johnny who drove Karen to work.

I shall tackle Emmet’s Learning to Philosophize this week and How to Read Better and Faster by Lewis next week.

12th Oct 1981

Johnny was asked at work why he was looking so happy. Life is good at the moment, in spite of the usual piling up of bills and the continuous shortage of money because of our large family.

Just paid $112 to the solicitor last week; on listing our current bills we have, in addition to our usual ones, car repairs to pay off at $100 per month for the next twelve months, the electricity bill arriving soon and the Rover needing money for repairs which mum has kindly offered to give. Christmas is coming up and then we will have Karen’s living expenses when she starts her studies. I will need textbooks next year too. Fortunately, Karen has a good chance of earning a certain amount towards her expenses for higher education.

Dinner tonight is pork vindaloo with dhal, rasam, tomato onion salad, coconut chutney and chapati. I also need to make the tomato puree and ragu for tomorrow and pikelets for afternoon tea.

Vindaloo

(a Portuguese development)

Ingredients:

½ kg pork (or stewing beef)
1 onion
4 garlic cloves
3 tsp ground cumin
¼ tsp ground chilli
¼ tsp ground black pepper
1 tsp paprika (optional)
1 tsp curry powder or 2 tsp ground coriander (optional)
2 Tbsp vinegar
Salt to taste

Method:
  • Fry the chopped onion and garlic in oil
  • Add the spices and fry a minute more (add a little water if too dry)
  • Add the diced meat and fry until coated
  • Add a drizzle of water, put the lid on the pot and simmer on low until tender
Variations:
  • Add curry leaves when frying onions
  • Add grated ginger to frying onions
  • Add ¼ tsp of ground cloves and ¼ tsp cinnamon
  • Add 2 Tbsp tomato puree with meat

79. Fegato Alla Italiano – Journal Entry 5th October 1981

Bach sonatas are filling the house. FM is the best thing that has happened to us in five years. Maybe even ten years?

The day so far has been a very enjoyable one. Lazed in bed after waking at 5am and doing a few exercises. I went into the kitchen to make coffee and sandwiches for Johnny’s lunch. It was pleasant to chat for a while before the tasks of the day.

Monika took Barbara to the bus stop and I stayed in the kitchen and chatted to Gareth and Karen before they went to school. Usually, I only pass the children on the way back from the bus stop, so it was a nice change; I even made their sandwiches for school today, an unusual activity.

After dealing with the breakfast dishes, putting a load of washing in the machine and feeding the chooks, I was back at my desk by 8:30am. It took a whole forty-five minutes to tidy my desk, think a bit and drink my coffee before I finally settled down to work; of course, FM was on. I studied with sweet baroque music filling the air followed by gentle, soulful pre-baroque music and singing.

6th Oct 1981

I was late to my desk, it was rather a long morning filled with household tasks. The bus was late and then I sat with Johnny for a chat and coffee before he left for work. Monika is taking Nathaniel to playgroup and she also has a nursing mothers meetings today. We swapped the big Australorp chicks to a different cage to make room for the new brood that hatched yesterday and today. I put nine eggs under the broody duck in spite of my resolve to stop breeding ducks for a few years! I want to see if the few Pekin eggs, nestled among the Muscovy eggs, are fertile. I tell myself I can always sell or give away ducklings. There is a sick chick among the older chicks so I had to put sulphurquin in their drinking water. I wonder what they think about the taste.

Mum reminded me that the garbage was collected today, so I left the chook feeding in a hurry and made my way down our stony driveway with a bag of rubbish, only to be met by mum staggering up the drive struggling for breath. She managed to gather herself together after a short rest and went to get ready for her indoor bowling session.

It is now late afternoon and I have not yet started on Calculus. I have, however, made bread, Danish pastry and stewed mulberries.

For dinner, we had liver with sage, onions, parsley, grilled bacon, new potatoes, leftover vegetables and carrot salad. The children are glad of the bacon to help the liver go down. The sage, parsley and lemon juice add a fragrance to the strong flavour.

Fegato Alla Italiana (Liver)

Ingredients:

½ kg onions (diced)
100g butter
800g calves liver (slice and pat dry)
¼ cup lemon juice
½ cup dry white wine
2 fresh stalks sage
1 small bunch parsley
Salt and pepper

Method:
  • Brown the finely chopped onions in half the butter.
  • Gently brown the liver slices in a separate pan for about 5 minutes in the remaining butter until cooked, adding salt and pepper.
  • Take out the liver from the pan and sprinkle with lemon juice.
  • Pour most of the white wine into the pan to deglaze.
  • Add onions and sage and reduce.
  • Add fried liver, parsley and the remaining wine, warm through and mix gently.
  • Serve with grilled bacon, new potatoes and steamed vegetables or salad.

§

Pudding was a delicious combination of stewed mulberries, ice-cream and Danish pastries.

Must remember to wash the pots on the top shelf which are covered with cobwebs and mildew.

Found out today that Mary was in the hospital for minor surgery. How to tell mum?  She is already in a nervous state and may see Mary’s suffering as connected to her ‘sins’ of late; she may even get depressed. I’m not sure she will handle the news.

78. How To Read A Great Book – Journal Entry 23th Sep 1981

The whole family felt very proud; Nathaniel won a baby competition. Barbara is still at camp and Mum doesn’t feel well, she is still somewhat withdrawn after the dramatic events with Les.

It was a good day, Karen turned eighteen and we had an excellent dinner of eye fillet, broccoli, corn, beans, crinkle cut chips and a creamy peppercorn sauce with shallots, followed by an exotic fruit salad.

Cream and Peppercorn Sauce

Ingredients
150ml fresh cream
1 heaped tsp flour
1 heaped tsp butter
2 tsp green peppercorns (rinsed)
1 tsp brandy
½ beef stock cube dissolved in a little boiling water (or meat glaze)
Shallots, finely sliced (optional)

Method
Melt the butter and add the flour slowly while stirring as for a roux
Add cream, peppercorns, brandy and stock
Mix until thick
Pour over meat

I spent most of the day dipping into Adler’s book How To Read A Book, The Classic Guide to Intelligent Reading, which explained in great detail, how to read a great book, “those that are of enduring interest and importance” and “of reading analytically, interpretively, and critically”. After dinner, Johnny and I had a long discussion about the process of reading properly.

24th Sep 1981

It’s been a leisurely morning so far. After a hearty breakfast of steak and eggs, I fed the chickens and ducks, tidied the bedroom, gave the vacuum a thorough clean and then vacuumed the kitchen.

Nathaniel and I picked a huge bowl of mulberries and then I hung out the clothes. Jobs had to be done by 3pm so we could leave for Rocky to see Karen off to Brisbane.

28th Sep 1981

Made a mutton-chop curry and dhal early in the morning; the masala for the curry was fragrant and delicious with a mixture of curry powder, clove powder, 5-spice powder, chilli, ginger, fresh coriander leaves, fennel leaves, lots of chives, tomatoes, yoghurt and pepper.

In the afternoon, I took Barbara to Yeppoon Hospital to have her foot examined. They confirmed what we thought, it was a pulled tendon and no bones were broken, however, recovery would be slow. Managed to read a number of short stories from Century of Humour by P.G. Wodehouse while waiting at the hospital. We arrived home at 5:30pm and Johnny had already made the rice for our dinner so we could eat straight away. Had a rum evening with Johnny.

29th Sep 1981

Today Johnny, Karen and Gareth are away so I have a family free day from housework. I should be able to work at my desk most of the day.

The conversation with myself went as follows:
What to do next year?
Why?
Because I’m not sure I can do mathematics.
You haven’t really given it a go.
True.
I might have to work next year.
As what? Why not press on with what you are doing this year and consider the matter in November?
The problem has not been defined as yet.
Yes, it has.

  1. I may not have the ability to do mathematics
  2. Seem incapable of working hard and consistently at study
  3. May have to earn money for the family

 

KarenProfileCircle120Notes:

How to Read a Great Book by Alder & Van Doren (1965) PDF here.

71. Keeping A Diary – Journal Entry 23rd Aug 1981

For my belated birthday celebration yesterday, Johnny made a fantastic paella with tiger prawns, mussels, chicken, scallops, peas and purple beans. I was surprised the whole family liked it and went for second helpings, they hadn’t liked previous paella Johnny had made.

Life seems untenable. I’ve been in agony this past fortnight over my studies and it looks like I will have to drop yet another subject because of tardiness. I’m interested in Maths and yet do nothing about it. What am I going to do with myself? I have pondered this question many times but haven’t found any answers as yet…

Keeping a diary means you can write about events or topics you wish to talk about but refrain from because you feel no-one would be really interested. Besides, many people want to tell you their thoughts and stories and often don’t give you a chance anyway. Thoughts and feelings can be examined and processed through a diary and besides, it is good writing practice.

IMG_0900 (1)
Gita and Johnny 1981
IMG_0901 (1)
Gita and Johnny 1981

24th Aug 1981

At breakfast, Nathaniel sat with Johnny and I and ate mulberries and cream with a small spoon. He asked for a second helping but then didn’t eat the fruit. He was distracted by the unsalted butter, playing with the lid and losing interest in his food. When I took away his bowl, he had a slightly bad-tempered outburst and tried to kick me. I scooped him up, said goodbye to Johnny and took him to the chicken pen to feed the birds.

Nathaniel noticed a guinea fowl was trying to get back into the pen and a second guinea fowl joined it. He was amused by the two idiot birds bobbing about in a fruitless effort to get back inside the chicken pen. The turkey hen, who will soon join them, is remarkably agile; she can climb up the wire fence out to the goat pen but can’t get back into the chicken pen where the food and water are plentiful.

The fridge is being cleaned today and Barbara is home with a heavy cold. I rang Mrs K to wish her a happy 80th birthday, she hadn’t remembered telling me last year and was pleasantly surprised. Her son held a special celebration at his farm and today the Benedictine nuns have invited her to a special birthday morning tea in her honour. It’s a surprise and they sent word through the son to tell her it was for another neighbour. 

We have had some excellent meals, usually cooked by Johnny at weekends. Last night’s Sunday dinner was a roast beef, Bordelaise sauce, snow peas, sautéed cauliflower and zucchini with an enormous dessert selection of orange cake, chocolate and almond cake and stewed mulberries with cream and ice cream.

Karen, who was working at the Sailing Club, missed Friday night’s dinner of smoked cod which was poached and served in a light cheese sauce with rice, broccoli and snow peas.

The snow peas have been an excellent addition to our vegetables this season, growing tall and bushy with many pickings. They are by no means finished, in fact, I think mum has some young creepers beginning to flower and the broccoli has been very satisfying despite the warmer weather.

Food, the preparation and enjoyment of it, plays a major role in our family; it is the one time the family gathers together and everyone shares their stories of the day. Sometimes we play games around the dinner table and Johnny will quiz us, on capital cities or general knowledge questions – it can get quite raucous.

KarenProfileCircle120NOTES

  • 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 and scroll through to the bottom.

66. This Daily Life – Journal Entry 6th May 1981

Still have this wretched cold. Poor Johnny now has it and didn’t sleep well last night; his second disturbed night.

Dropped Barbie off at the bus stop after an early breakfast, saw Johnny off to work, put out the guinea chicks, tidied the chicken coops on the lawn and the garbage heap outside the kitchen, talked to the dentist about Gareth’s lip and made appointments for Karen and Gareth for July. 

Did a little study, listened to Tom O’Shanter, hung out the clothes and made a cuppa. Managed to squeeze in more study then removed the tall grass in the goat paddock, made the Bolognese ragu with the mince Marcello had brought from work (a little fatty to taste but fine for the price), sorted out the tomato puree and did the laundry.

Ate lunch with mum after a little bit of reading and bringing in the laundry. More cooking after that: a current slice or ‘fly pastry’ as we like to call it, and tomato juice. Finally, I  gathered more grass for the chooks.

Karen, Johnny and Gareth were leaving for Rocky for Karen’s public speaking competition so we had an early dinner. Gran was already in Rocky bowling and would be picked up later. I read Barbie a story until Nathaniel woke up. He had a long crying spell but settled down after a while and played in the sitting room until 8:30 pm. Studied and ironed while waiting for Johnny to come home.

7th May 1981

After a couple of hours of study, I did the ironing, made the bread dough, cleaned the dining room, cooked some vegetable patties and started Max Blacks’ The Labyrinth of Language.

Read a novel called The Street Sparrows, a historical romance that didn’t quite come off. It was naive and over-ambitious. An unsatisfactory evening because I chose to have an early night then read the novel, which was quite poor, and insisted on finishing it into the early hours of the morning.

9th May 1981

Karen and Monika worked in the garden for an hour while Gareth mowed the lawn. The tree pruning can wait until tomorrow. The rest of the week was spent on meetings, meetings and more meetings: first the Computer Users Society meeting then the P&C meeting and after that the Progress Association meeting. Johnny was away for a few days and Karen had her social.

13th May 1981

What an odd day!

The whole morning was spent searching for dad’s death certificate. Mum is applying for a widow’s pension, now she has been in the country for five years, and the certificate has to be sighted before the application is accepted.

Rob from Social Security was most helpful. Mum couldn’t find the death certificate and was getting into an awful state so I rang Rob and told him about our difficulties. He has now arranged for a representative in Brisbane to check the Immigration Department’s records for some mention of mum’s widowhood and has asked us for a copy of the guarantee Johnny signed to see what could be done.

In the meantime, I sent a telegram to Nora asking for another copy of the certificate. All this took half a day and the rooms are now strewn with boxes and papers. Nathaniel joined into the search and scattered the treasures he found. He also pulled a few boxes off the shelves in his excitement and mum was madly cleaning up after him while searching. We think the certificate may have been kept in the Philippines.

After giving up on the search, I clipped the wings of two young turkeys before putting them with the old turkey tom in the goat pen, made pikelets for the children and then rested while I made a few phone calls.

The electricity has gone off twice and has been off for over four hours. We had a quick and unexpected shower of rain so we now sit around the dining table in the strange light of a large gas lamp whirring near us. It is 8:45 pm and I read a few stories to Barbara – I must write a letter to Nora explaining our telegram.

This daily life… of study and jobs.

KarenProfileCircle120Notes

  • 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 and scroll through to the bottom.

63. Laid Low By Migraine – Journal Entry 5th Feb 1981

Ha! I’m up and about at last. It’s 5 pm and I spent all of yesterday and today flat on my back, brought low by a migraine.

Tuesday was a full day in Rocky with the family and a particularly excellent day of shopping. I bought a pair of blue trousers, which I discovered were too tight for me, however, I squeezed myself into them for a later theatre performance; a couple of very talented Italian clowns.

While in Rocky, I took Barbie to see Dr Morgan. He looked very familiar and I wondered where I had seen him – of course, he attended to mum at the Yeppoon Hospital! At that time, well before her car accident, she had an attack of hysteria and her body went rigid. Dr Morgan discussed her symptoms right in front of her, said it was a classic case of hysteria and put her on a course of tablets for a year.

Dr Morgan didn’t approve of Melleril for Barbara and thought that the long-term effects of Melleril were shocking. While in London, he had seen a whole ward of patients on Melleril, sitting with tongues lolling out of their mouths, hands and legs jerking. His demonstration looked frightening! He recommended Barbara take Lithium, a mild drug which prevented highly excitable periods in a patient’s emotional life. The time we spent waiting for Dr Morgan, and speaking with him for our appointment, seemed an inordinately long time; that’s the way of it now.

I dropped Barbie off and bought mash, which I had forgotten to buy earlier for Monika when Barbie and I went to the garage to fill the car with petrol. From there I went to pick up the bean bag Monika wanted and after the bean bag was securely fastened in the back of the moke, I continued on to St Paul’s Cathedral office for a meeting.

With a few minutes to spare before the meeting, I slipped across to George’s (the trouser specialist) to see if he had a suitable shirt to go with my new trousers. I was absorbed in the styles of shirts, not much variety actually, and turned to walk away from the racks, almost colliding with a man standing squarely in my way. I was astonished and a little alarmed. He was tall, dark-skinned and wore a single gold earring, the image of a picture-book pirate. I imagined him in pirate clothes, a cutlass between his teeth and a large green leering parrot on his shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, twisting away in the narrow passage between the shirts, sleeping bags and piles of large-brimmed khaki hats.
“I’m not…” he said in a low voice.

8th Feb 1981

Jung, and the pursuit of his unconscious is disturbing. It must have been terrifying for him and I will have to read his books before I can have a clear idea of what he is on about. It has encouraged me to work out my own vague or nagging fears and to write about them, however bizarre or trivial.

Why am I scared of going into the garden at night, or to the bathroom late at night? Why am I scared? Do I imagine I am going to see some spirit – the latest being Elaine who has just died – may she rest in peace. And why do I say rest in peace when I don’t believe in life after death?

I’m tired and cannot think clearly. I shall pursue this in the morning.

11th Feb 1981

I don’t think I shall continue with the 8th Feb entry. However, I wish to record my extremely severe migraine which lasted two days, the nausea almost constant. The last terrible migraine was over a year ago. The outcome of my migraine was that I listened to a good many tapes and lost a bit of weight, something I had been trying to do for at least six months.

14th Feb 1981

It is difficult to write about a migraine so long after the event. Perhaps it is better to forget the nasty experience. This morning I went to sleep at 1:45 am and reviewed my write-up of the weeks activities.

18th Feb 1981

Have to take hold of myself. Can’t do much Calculus I without revising P-Maths, so I must spend time working through Pre-Calculus. In fact, there will be no mucking around. I’ll need to reorganise my day to study as much as possible.

24th Feb 1981

Feeling frustrated, inadequate, guilty and mad. I want to go away for a while, somewhere I don’t have to do anything, see anybody or speak to anyone. Ridiculous I know. Shirking my responsibilities is a luxury I cannot have.

Let’s have optimistic thoughts, I’m lucky to be where I am, I’m lucky to be doing what I am doing, it’s a wonderful view and a cool, airy verandah. I’m sitting on a deck chair with the afternoon sun on me and Johnny is a wonderful man.

I’m dissatisfied because I have not made progress with Pascal. I can’t seem to write an appropriate note for a task set for me.

Last night was a night for celebration. Karen was chosen as female school captain (there was competition for the position) and Craig S was chosen as male school captain.

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 and scroll through to the bottom.