I do not like seafood. I don't fish by choice. I do not eat seafood. I won't cook it. I can't even bear the smell of it. I will, very occassionally & only under great duress, go fishing if someone else baits my hook for me. I object to running sharp objects through live animals.
Dearest, having prevailed upon me to buy the lads fishing rods & provide the bait decided we would have a family afternoon down on the point & he would teach his sons the manly art of casting. So off we went. Dearest is an avid fisherman & some of his best memories are of family fishing holidays. Liddy, too small to hold a rod, was seeing how wet she could get while technically remaining out of the water. I took myself a little apart with a small sigh. I was reckoning on about an hour tops before snags had dispossed of all our tackle but the boys were so wild with excitement I held my peace & quietly dropped my line as close to the hole as possible & began to think of other things, totally oblivious to the excitment around me.
In a little while my line began tugging in the gentle way that tells you something is interested in what you have plastered on the end of your line. I'm not much of a fisherman so I jerked without much hope & reeled in a good sized bream. There was an immediate surge of men & equipment my way & lines plonked into the water all about me while Dearest removed my fish with a delighted grin. I removed myself from the crush & dropped my line in the water on the other side of the point. Catching something has never been my goal so I was shocked to find my line getting tugged yet again. In came a small flathead. By this time my sons were eyeing me with a stunned mixture of respect & as if I was the lucky fish charm & waited to see where I dropped my line before moving enmass to join me. I love my sons but the inevitable happened. The next fish to bite made a run for the rock ledge. My line snagged & I lost the only decent hook I had. The boys were tangled around each other in the sort of knot that was going to take time & patience to sort out. I left Dearest to it & walked back up to the house for more bait. I took my time so was absolutely stunned to be met halfway by 3/4 of my household delirious with excitement. 'You've caught a fish', Jossie shouted. I had? Last time I looked I didn't even have a hook let alone a line in the water. 'A cod,' Dino informed me. Well, he would know. 'This big.' He held his hands apart to show me. Wow!
I walked down the track with my overexcited offspring to see if Dearest could make sense of this wild tale. 'You wouldn't believe it,' he said shaking his head. He had replaced my hook, baited the line up & cast it out before dealing with the boys tangled lines but was as surprised as the boys when my line started running out. He reeled in the fish, indeed Dino's cod, to find my best hook embedded in the cod's mouth & the fish snagged through the old line. You wouldn't read about it. I'm still the cleverest fisherman I know. I don't know of another one who has caught a fish when they weren't even there!
Monday, May 21, 2007
Fishy Tales.
I am not a hunter; I do not like to see things die. My tendencies are all towards vegetarianism. My sons do not share my squeamishness. They learnt to fish early & crab as soon as they could carry a pot. They know our bay in ways I never will.
The first thing Dino did with his first pay of the trawlers was buy himself a flash tinny & a motor with a lot of grunt. He then went back to sea leaving boat & motor moored amongst our mangroves (& as both are much too heavy for the girls & I to deal with) the whole lot promptly sank at the first king tide. It was an expensive lesson. Outboards do not like salt water in their works.
I've always been quite pleased (apart from missing the child dreadfully, of course) that Dino trawled on the other side of the country. I have vivid memories of his early days of fishing. Once they actually learnt to swim, a post all on its own, they were allowed to walk down to the point & fish off the rocks on the promitory. There was a hole just off there & good anglers nearly always caught something. My boys realized early they were too short to have much hope of reaching it so took to wading out up to their chests, an activity that had the big boat drivers cross. They had to slow as they came around the markers &through the channel so as not to swamp my boys. As this was an activity that invariably took place well before the sun was up (why do fish get up so early?) I would hear the boys leave as they called out to say they were going fishing & happily submerged only to be shaken awake by a small dripping figure waving something, wet slimy & gasping its last under my nose. 'Look what, I've caught, mummy!' I have always been sooo pleased Dino was not able to arrive at my bedside with his first trawler catch!
The first thing Dino did with his first pay of the trawlers was buy himself a flash tinny & a motor with a lot of grunt. He then went back to sea leaving boat & motor moored amongst our mangroves (& as both are much too heavy for the girls & I to deal with) the whole lot promptly sank at the first king tide. It was an expensive lesson. Outboards do not like salt water in their works.
I've always been quite pleased (apart from missing the child dreadfully, of course) that Dino trawled on the other side of the country. I have vivid memories of his early days of fishing. Once they actually learnt to swim, a post all on its own, they were allowed to walk down to the point & fish off the rocks on the promitory. There was a hole just off there & good anglers nearly always caught something. My boys realized early they were too short to have much hope of reaching it so took to wading out up to their chests, an activity that had the big boat drivers cross. They had to slow as they came around the markers &through the channel so as not to swamp my boys. As this was an activity that invariably took place well before the sun was up (why do fish get up so early?) I would hear the boys leave as they called out to say they were going fishing & happily submerged only to be shaken awake by a small dripping figure waving something, wet slimy & gasping its last under my nose. 'Look what, I've caught, mummy!' I have always been sooo pleased Dino was not able to arrive at my bedside with his first trawler catch!
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Random notes.
Friday it rained. The rain thundered down & the wind whined. The bay churned unhappily so Saturday's outing got cancelled. Saturday dawned calm & fair. Outing back on. Now this outing was with friends, Cass' piano teacher & her wheelchair bound sister. With the wheelchair there were still two spare seats so who would like to go? The Duvyken was back in town & moored at the maritime museum.
The Duvyken is an 18th C replica spice ship, very pretty. Cass & I went over her last time she was in port. It took Cass all of 20 minutes to see everything there was to be seen & then she asked if she could climb the rigging. Liddy is now out of her sling so we sent her instead. She was unlikely to want to climb the rigging. She was a little unlucky. The owners have decided the hold is off limits so Liddy couldn't go into the bowels of the ship as we did & it isn't really her thing but it was a day out & something to do when she has not been able to do very much at all for some time. You can google the Duvyken if you want a virtual tour. I know. Cass used their site to do a visual report of our visit. Cass & I went to soccer as usual.
My older daughter & I do share some characteristics when it comes to sport & especially when it comes to soccer. One is being able to find space. My skill level is low so enough space to think in & organize my feet is necessary. The other is being able to read the game. Now Liddy reads the game & is in position early. I read the game, analyze it & move too late, which is how come I took a ball to the face. I am sporting a split & swollen lip. The opposition's back suggested I might like to take up boxing instead. Ha, very ha! Luckily I preached last Sunday!
Talking of which; I wrote everything up for my blog, typed in my title & posted, at which point Liddy arrived & gazing over my shoulder let out a wild whoop of laughter. My title read: Mothering Sinday!!!! We are still cackling about it. The mind boggles.
The Duvyken is an 18th C replica spice ship, very pretty. Cass & I went over her last time she was in port. It took Cass all of 20 minutes to see everything there was to be seen & then she asked if she could climb the rigging. Liddy is now out of her sling so we sent her instead. She was unlikely to want to climb the rigging. She was a little unlucky. The owners have decided the hold is off limits so Liddy couldn't go into the bowels of the ship as we did & it isn't really her thing but it was a day out & something to do when she has not been able to do very much at all for some time. You can google the Duvyken if you want a virtual tour. I know. Cass used their site to do a visual report of our visit. Cass & I went to soccer as usual.
My older daughter & I do share some characteristics when it comes to sport & especially when it comes to soccer. One is being able to find space. My skill level is low so enough space to think in & organize my feet is necessary. The other is being able to read the game. Now Liddy reads the game & is in position early. I read the game, analyze it & move too late, which is how come I took a ball to the face. I am sporting a split & swollen lip. The opposition's back suggested I might like to take up boxing instead. Ha, very ha! Luckily I preached last Sunday!
Talking of which; I wrote everything up for my blog, typed in my title & posted, at which point Liddy arrived & gazing over my shoulder let out a wild whoop of laughter. My title read: Mothering Sinday!!!! We are still cackling about it. The mind boggles.
Homeschooling woes.
The things you can't forsee! When we planned our house I didn't forsee trying to school an attention deficiet child with much older siblings. We planned for coolness in a sub~tropical summer & have an open plan house. The house is cool but some days I just want to pull my hair out. Like Tuesday. Dictation is hard enough. Cass talks so much she rarely remembers what she is suppossed to be writing until it's been repeated 3 times & some days when I check her work I wonder if we were using the same text 'cause what she's written bears little resemblence to what I've said. So having Liddy join us with her new John MacArthur book was not what I needed. I am easily distracted from the boredom of dictation according to Cass & Liddy kept saying, 'Did you know...' & off we'd go on a 15 minute theological diversion. Grrrr! Cass was so happy. Rarely is dictation so entertaining. Still I can justify that as part of Cass' curriculum, right? It was her brother that caused the real problem.
Mid~morning there is the phone call. We spent months training friends & family not to ring during school hours, a dictum my own household happily ignores. Dino was on his way home, could I pick him up? And the good news? He'd broken his wrist & was in plaster! Argh! I already have one hyperactive child bored out of her brain. Two I did not need. Dino is not one of my readers so what he did was stock up on videos & he & Liddy settled in for a movie marathon. Cass NOT happy! I moved her work into the kitchen. Her bedroom is too close to the t.v & goodness knows what nonsense she would have written. Besides she would have spent the rest of the morning wandering round on the pretext she was clearing her desk, which is piled high with art work. The t.v can be seen & heard from the kitchen but with the sound turned down is not too distracting but it meant I spent the rest of the morning standing behind the breakfast bar so Cass couldn't see the t.v. screen. Open plan houses & homeschooling are not a good fit. However it seems Liddy's collar bone is actually mending nicely & she could be back at work in as little as three weeks. Roll on the day! Mind you, all she is interested in is when she can get back on the soccer pitch!
Mid~morning there is the phone call. We spent months training friends & family not to ring during school hours, a dictum my own household happily ignores. Dino was on his way home, could I pick him up? And the good news? He'd broken his wrist & was in plaster! Argh! I already have one hyperactive child bored out of her brain. Two I did not need. Dino is not one of my readers so what he did was stock up on videos & he & Liddy settled in for a movie marathon. Cass NOT happy! I moved her work into the kitchen. Her bedroom is too close to the t.v & goodness knows what nonsense she would have written. Besides she would have spent the rest of the morning wandering round on the pretext she was clearing her desk, which is piled high with art work. The t.v can be seen & heard from the kitchen but with the sound turned down is not too distracting but it meant I spent the rest of the morning standing behind the breakfast bar so Cass couldn't see the t.v. screen. Open plan houses & homeschooling are not a good fit. However it seems Liddy's collar bone is actually mending nicely & she could be back at work in as little as three weeks. Roll on the day! Mind you, all she is interested in is when she can get back on the soccer pitch!
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Mothering Sunday ~ as they say in England
Liddy insists on telling me she never listens when I do the message at church. My children find it highly embarrassing to have their mother get up & speak after all the practising I've done on them. Now I thought today's service was lovely ~ spirit led, gentle, applicable ~ but I am so focused on getting the message right that I really pay very little attention to anything else until I'm all done & trying to hold so much of the spirit tends to have me weeping at the drop of a hat & bursting out of my spiritual skin. People must be mad who choose to do this for a living.
So I ask Liddy in the car, the car generally being good for getting her with her guard down, how she thought the message was ~ & got the usual answer. 'I wish you'd listen,' I whinged, 'so I have someone to obsess with afterwards like you do with the soccer.' Liddy insists she does NOT obsess but I can assure you otherwise! 'Well, MOTHER,' mother being the term sorely tried children address me by, ' Seeing as you had three quarters of the church in tears, I think you hit a nerve don't you?!'
And my ultimate point was...?
Even our DNA has been programmed to sing & glorify God. It speaks of an enormous love for His creation. It speaks of something incomprehensible. Much as I should like too I have as much chance of comprehending that as I have of grasping quantum physics. And that really is the point, isn’t it? All around us we can see the results of God’s glory & majesty & nearly all of it is beyond our minds to grasp. But, and it is a very wonderful thing, we have been given God’s promises. Those have been revealed to us & when we are faced with troubles & grief those are promises we can cling to. We have tasted of God & know that He is good. In our suffering that is our witness to a world that does not know the goodness of God. It is our testimony that no matter what we can say with Job, ‘ Though He slay me, yet will I trust in him.’ Amen
So I ask Liddy in the car, the car generally being good for getting her with her guard down, how she thought the message was ~ & got the usual answer. 'I wish you'd listen,' I whinged, 'so I have someone to obsess with afterwards like you do with the soccer.' Liddy insists she does NOT obsess but I can assure you otherwise! 'Well, MOTHER,' mother being the term sorely tried children address me by, ' Seeing as you had three quarters of the church in tears, I think you hit a nerve don't you?!'
And my ultimate point was...?
Even our DNA has been programmed to sing & glorify God. It speaks of an enormous love for His creation. It speaks of something incomprehensible. Much as I should like too I have as much chance of comprehending that as I have of grasping quantum physics. And that really is the point, isn’t it? All around us we can see the results of God’s glory & majesty & nearly all of it is beyond our minds to grasp. But, and it is a very wonderful thing, we have been given God’s promises. Those have been revealed to us & when we are faced with troubles & grief those are promises we can cling to. We have tasted of God & know that He is good. In our suffering that is our witness to a world that does not know the goodness of God. It is our testimony that no matter what we can say with Job, ‘ Though He slay me, yet will I trust in him.’ Amen
Friday, May 11, 2007
Liddy is a child of the island. Jossie was four, nearing five, & the twins were just one when we moved onto the island. As the truck that had towed our 25 foot caravan over headed down the red dirt road in a cloud of dust the drought broke. All our worldly possessions were stacked to the roof of that van. We climbed over them to wiggle into bed that night with the rain thundering down. Thank goodness we never had a fire because we'd never have got out!
Our electricity pole wasn't up, despite all the promises. We had no running water, no electricity & the boys all promptly got diahorrea. The rain cascaded down in true monsoon fashion.
Dearest is a brickie by trade & began building our house while I taught our boys the subtleties of NOT living in suburbia: Shrieking curlews do not require you to climb your father like a monkey up a pole; Monitor lizards are bigger than you are, leave them alone; Snakes are not for playing with. To add to the chaos we acquired a damaltion puppy & then God decided it was time the girl I'd requested should make her appearance. No~one else believed I was carrying a girl. Dearest's family runs heavily to boys but I was convinced this one was the requested girl & we agreed to name her for her maternal grandmother.
Now I am a 5'5 , 7 stone lightweight ~ except when pregnant. Pregnant I blossom like a galleon carrying all her sails in a following wind. Carrying the twins I came close to doubling my usual weight so believe me when I say pregnancy makes me uncomfortable, irritable, clumsy & absolutely exhausted. Added to my list of usual complaints our water supply got contaminated & I found I had gardia. All treatments crossed the placenta & caused complications so I refused treatment. Instead I accepted something for the vomiting & treated everything else with over ripe tomatoes & white bread.
Given the slothful nature of this baby it is hard to believe what a hyperactive child she became. I was always poking her to make sure she was still alive but some things never change. Making decisions has never come easy for Liddy & she was chronically incapable of making up her mind whether she was on her way or not. I spent a week with contractions that began each evening on our afternoon walk at twenty minutes apart & dropped consistently until they were 10 minutes apart when they would just stop. My mother, who had come down to help, was getting frazzled. I was merely irate at all the fussing. Everyone was very conscious we would have to call out a boat once it was time. Liddy was in no hurry.
The last evening Liddy performed as she had every night for a week. At 10pm, with contractions at zilch yet again I went to bed, my mother hovering anxiously & Dearest still convinced I was in labour. He was right. I went to sleep but woke abruptly as my waters broke & all bedlam broke loose! I was insisting I needed a shower before going anywhere, Dearest insisted he wasn't waiting on me showering convinced once I was in warm water I'd never get out & my mother insisting Dearest get me off the island pronto! Even so the boat beat us to the jetty & the driver got us to the mainland in record time. They don't like delivering babies at sea either.
Once at the hospital I headed straight for the shower & I only got out to deliver my baby. Liddy was fast & effecient. I passed her to her father & headed back to the shower. He sat & rocked her, an event that has gone down in posterity as it is the only time in her fist 3 years that Liddy didn't scream blue murder any time her father came near her!
Dearest left in time to catch the first boat back to the island but he had had plenty of time to think how best to break the news to an expectant grandmother & three excited little boys.
'Well.' said dearest managing to look gloomy, 'James is a perfectly good name...' My mother hid dissappointment. 'But it doesn't really suit our Liddy Rose.' He has a wicked sense of humour. Luckily for him my mother has a forgiving nature!
Our electricity pole wasn't up, despite all the promises. We had no running water, no electricity & the boys all promptly got diahorrea. The rain cascaded down in true monsoon fashion.
Dearest is a brickie by trade & began building our house while I taught our boys the subtleties of NOT living in suburbia: Shrieking curlews do not require you to climb your father like a monkey up a pole; Monitor lizards are bigger than you are, leave them alone; Snakes are not for playing with. To add to the chaos we acquired a damaltion puppy & then God decided it was time the girl I'd requested should make her appearance. No~one else believed I was carrying a girl. Dearest's family runs heavily to boys but I was convinced this one was the requested girl & we agreed to name her for her maternal grandmother.
Now I am a 5'5 , 7 stone lightweight ~ except when pregnant. Pregnant I blossom like a galleon carrying all her sails in a following wind. Carrying the twins I came close to doubling my usual weight so believe me when I say pregnancy makes me uncomfortable, irritable, clumsy & absolutely exhausted. Added to my list of usual complaints our water supply got contaminated & I found I had gardia. All treatments crossed the placenta & caused complications so I refused treatment. Instead I accepted something for the vomiting & treated everything else with over ripe tomatoes & white bread.
Given the slothful nature of this baby it is hard to believe what a hyperactive child she became. I was always poking her to make sure she was still alive but some things never change. Making decisions has never come easy for Liddy & she was chronically incapable of making up her mind whether she was on her way or not. I spent a week with contractions that began each evening on our afternoon walk at twenty minutes apart & dropped consistently until they were 10 minutes apart when they would just stop. My mother, who had come down to help, was getting frazzled. I was merely irate at all the fussing. Everyone was very conscious we would have to call out a boat once it was time. Liddy was in no hurry.
The last evening Liddy performed as she had every night for a week. At 10pm, with contractions at zilch yet again I went to bed, my mother hovering anxiously & Dearest still convinced I was in labour. He was right. I went to sleep but woke abruptly as my waters broke & all bedlam broke loose! I was insisting I needed a shower before going anywhere, Dearest insisted he wasn't waiting on me showering convinced once I was in warm water I'd never get out & my mother insisting Dearest get me off the island pronto! Even so the boat beat us to the jetty & the driver got us to the mainland in record time. They don't like delivering babies at sea either.
Once at the hospital I headed straight for the shower & I only got out to deliver my baby. Liddy was fast & effecient. I passed her to her father & headed back to the shower. He sat & rocked her, an event that has gone down in posterity as it is the only time in her fist 3 years that Liddy didn't scream blue murder any time her father came near her!
Dearest left in time to catch the first boat back to the island but he had had plenty of time to think how best to break the news to an expectant grandmother & three excited little boys.
'Well.' said dearest managing to look gloomy, 'James is a perfectly good name...' My mother hid dissappointment. 'But it doesn't really suit our Liddy Rose.' He has a wicked sense of humour. Luckily for him my mother has a forgiving nature!
I believe in angels.
We have had very few family holidays. We have never had the sort of income that has allowed us to holiday with 5 kiddies in tow. However when the twins were about 4 months old we did a camping holiday down Yamba way. Camping with babies is not a whole load of fun in my opinion despite the fact we had loaded a cot onto the trailer & they at least were sleeping in comfort. My big boy was perfectly happy so long as I took him swimming in the river & sat in the park so he could play but what I particularly remember about that holiday is coming home.
Now I am something of a nervous driver, mostly because Dearest likes to drive & doesn't believe anyone else is as good a driver so I have never had much practise. The only time I ever got the wheel on long trips was when the sun hit the windshield making visibility difficult. As I had sunnies I got the wheel & endured a running commentry on my driving, something I particularly dislike. If I am given a job I like to be let get on with it, not be told how to do it. This particular trip Dearest did me the honour of promptly going to sleep & leaving me to it. Loaded down with three kids & a box trailer stuffed with camping gear I was hardly travelling fast as I turned of the main highway onto the road that would join us up to the inland highway. As we hit the gravel the car suddenly slewed & we began fishtailing gently from one side of the deserted road to the other. I knew enough not to slam on the brakes. I wasn't even panicking. The road was rising gently & I figured with my foot of the accelerator we would eventually coast to a stop. Meanwhile I just had to keep the car on the road. There was nothing wrong with my plan although the fishtailing was becoming rather pronounced. What was wrong was the semi~trailer that suddenly crested the rise. He was travelling too & I was all over the road like a vulture's dinner!
I saw very clearly the next day's headlines: Family Of Five Perish In Horror Smash. Time, which science continually tells us is different to what we think it is, spagettied out as if I were about to enter a black hole & the cold, logical little voice that lives inside my head began weighing up our options. Take the car off this side & we would roll for sure down an incline. Take it the other way & we would just as surely roll, only into the side of the hill. Neither choice looked pretty.
I do not ask you to believe what happened next. I do know that none of us should logically be here. I was still trying to decide. I could see the white's of the truck driver's eyes. Poor man. There was nothing he could do to try & avoid us. I had absolutely no control over the car. It was all I could do to keep us just on the road & the trailer was headed in a completely different direction to the car. Then two angels appeared out of nowhere. They rode shot~gun on my bonnet. The car steadied for the time it took the truck to wizz past then the angels were just as surely gone & the car was once again all over the road.
Dearest woke & helped me battle the car to the side of the road & we ground to a halt. We had blown the front passenger tire & were lucky to be alive. My children love this story but they always ask the same question ...& I give them the same answer every time. If they thought I had any time to spare for close observation of what an angel looks like they are completely & utterly insane! I retain the barest impression of immense strength & height. I know one was dark skinned & one was fair. I suspect two more were at the back we were held so steady on the road but other than that I know nothing. I don't know why they were sent that day but without them I doubt any of us would have survived & neither Liddy or Cass would ever have been born. It makes you think doesn't it?
Now I am something of a nervous driver, mostly because Dearest likes to drive & doesn't believe anyone else is as good a driver so I have never had much practise. The only time I ever got the wheel on long trips was when the sun hit the windshield making visibility difficult. As I had sunnies I got the wheel & endured a running commentry on my driving, something I particularly dislike. If I am given a job I like to be let get on with it, not be told how to do it. This particular trip Dearest did me the honour of promptly going to sleep & leaving me to it. Loaded down with three kids & a box trailer stuffed with camping gear I was hardly travelling fast as I turned of the main highway onto the road that would join us up to the inland highway. As we hit the gravel the car suddenly slewed & we began fishtailing gently from one side of the deserted road to the other. I knew enough not to slam on the brakes. I wasn't even panicking. The road was rising gently & I figured with my foot of the accelerator we would eventually coast to a stop. Meanwhile I just had to keep the car on the road. There was nothing wrong with my plan although the fishtailing was becoming rather pronounced. What was wrong was the semi~trailer that suddenly crested the rise. He was travelling too & I was all over the road like a vulture's dinner!
I saw very clearly the next day's headlines: Family Of Five Perish In Horror Smash. Time, which science continually tells us is different to what we think it is, spagettied out as if I were about to enter a black hole & the cold, logical little voice that lives inside my head began weighing up our options. Take the car off this side & we would roll for sure down an incline. Take it the other way & we would just as surely roll, only into the side of the hill. Neither choice looked pretty.
I do not ask you to believe what happened next. I do know that none of us should logically be here. I was still trying to decide. I could see the white's of the truck driver's eyes. Poor man. There was nothing he could do to try & avoid us. I had absolutely no control over the car. It was all I could do to keep us just on the road & the trailer was headed in a completely different direction to the car. Then two angels appeared out of nowhere. They rode shot~gun on my bonnet. The car steadied for the time it took the truck to wizz past then the angels were just as surely gone & the car was once again all over the road.
Dearest woke & helped me battle the car to the side of the road & we ground to a halt. We had blown the front passenger tire & were lucky to be alive. My children love this story but they always ask the same question ...& I give them the same answer every time. If they thought I had any time to spare for close observation of what an angel looks like they are completely & utterly insane! I retain the barest impression of immense strength & height. I know one was dark skinned & one was fair. I suspect two more were at the back we were held so steady on the road but other than that I know nothing. I don't know why they were sent that day but without them I doubt any of us would have survived & neither Liddy or Cass would ever have been born. It makes you think doesn't it?
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