Level Four Lockdown: Day Fifty-Four
Curfew. 9 p.m
Mood: Middling - it's nearly the weekend.
Black and White Photo Challenge: Day Twenty-Five
My Mum turned 80 today. She's currently down the Coonawarra with friends, drinking wine and eating at fancy restaurants and enjoying herself to the hilt, which is a good thing. As I'm in lockdown in Melbourne, there is no chance of going over to see her. There were some plans of having a party earlier in the year, but that's been scuppered.
I don't talk about my family much on this blog - mainly because they all live in South Australia and I don't see much of them. It's not a bad thing. We're not one of those families who live out of each other's pockets. We're not overly demonstrative, but I blame the Cornish Methodist influence for this. We're not overly close, but we still talk once a week, even if it is only for ten minutes.
I haven't lived in the same city as my mother for over 30 years - this probably has something to do with it.
I talked to her this morning. She reckons she'll make 90. I warned her if she lost her marbles in the meantime we'd dong her on the head. Again - a family trait.
Anyway, as Mum is turning 80 today, I'll tell you a few things about her. Nothing bad - Mum doesn't have bad things about her.
So let me see. She was an unplanned child. My aunt and uncle are 12 and 14 years older than her. Born during the war, Grandpa was working for the Post Office up in Gawler. He and Grandma had a fight. He didn't come home for a few weeks. When he did return, well, you know, Mum was born 9 months later. At first, he didn't believe she was his, until she came out, the spitting image of him (and my aunt). Grandma was 40 when she gave birth to Mum.
She was a nurse for thirty years, specialising as a theatre sister. What this means is that as a kid, I got no sympathy at all. As any child with a nurse for a mother. The standard reply when you're ill is, 'take a panadol, have a glass of water and a lie down. You'll be fine.' It's a nurse thing.
She's left handed. Like my grandfather, but he had it beaten out of him. She missed that. However, she uses scissors with her right hand. I can only use them with my left. Bloody kack-handed family traits.
At 80 she can still rock a pair of fishnets. Thankfully, I got her legs. My sister didn't.
She looks a bit like Judi Dench.
She loves fishing and loves going up the Murray to go fishing.
She's a gun cake decorator. When she was young her cake decorating won prizes at the Royal Adelaide Show. She's decorated many a wedding cake over the years.
Like me, she still uses her grandmother's recipes - especially for biscuits and sweets.
She's good at rhyming and writing silly poems and songs, as a testament, the hymn sheet at the annual barbeque. I think I got my ability to rhyme from her.
She has two titanium knees. Best thing she ever did was get her knees replaced.
She's an avid reader and movie goer. We talk about movies and books a lot.
She's cat mad, but she doesn't have a cat. We keep threatening to get her another one.
She's allergic to horses - actually she's allergic to most animals, but not cats.
She worked as a nurse in Saudi Arabia for a year when I was at uni. A big move. I won't go into the family history, but she got to see some of the world then. Did her good.
She's a great cook. But she's not fond of vegetarians.
She always listens to talkback radio, not so she can listen to the idiots who call in, but to give her some company in the house. There is a transistor radio on the kitchen bench.
She drinks a lot of tea, with milk and a pill. They drink a lot of tea down there at Myponga.
At times she has very little patience with people, but then again, she'll give you the shirt off her back if she likes you.
She always falls asleep in front of the telly of an evening - then again, she's up at six most mornings. She's been like this since I was a kid. Will sleep anywhere. (My family have this thing, you want to talk to mum or my sister, call at 7 am, odds on, they'll be up - much to their partner's chagrin).
I like that in her kitchen, the only thing she has on her kitchen bench, a small, ceramic box which I bought for her in Seville while on holiday. She likes little things. There is also a silly statue I made in woodwork when I was 12 that sits on top of the cupboard. Parents are strange.
Anyway, I'm sure she'll be having a most excellent birthday with her mates.
I'm just grateful she's happy and healthy and able to celebrate in style.
Today's song:
No comments:
Post a Comment