Mamalade

Fun at the fair

The weather is always unreliable at the end of July. And that’s when our local community holds its big annual Festival. Our World Vision Club always has a stall at the Festival.

Thursday and Friday were cold and wet. On Saturday the wind started to blow and things didn’t look good. But Sunday (the day of the Festival) was a beautiful sunny day – though a bit nippy at first. I was able to wear my new parka – the one I bought the week before they were reduced to half-price, but by mid-day we were stripping off layers of clothes and feeling thankful that our stall was under a tree.

Except for when the cockatoos flocked into our tree. I wasn’t too thrilled when I felt something land on my head and knew it wasn’t raining!

It was a busy day and we were exhausted by the time we’d finished, even though one of our group had advised us to “Have a meal of pasta on Saturday and you’ll be full of beans on Sunday!”

A trip to the vet

If there’s one job I absolutely hate, its taking a cat to the vet. But it had to be done. Mum’s cat Panther was really miserable.

I rang the vet, then went to pick up Mum and Panther. That’s when our troubles began. New guttering is being installed in Mum and Dad’s street this week and traffic was redirected.

I parked the car around the corner at the end of the street and picked my way through the rubble and past the bulldozers and excavators.

But that was a breeze compared to our journey back down the street, with an enraged heavy cat in a carry-cage.

It was hot and stuffy at the vets. The examining room is small with no windows and the vet was sooo slow. He wasn’t the regular vet. I think he was new.

Panther buried his head under Mum’s arm and howled.

“I think he has an abscess,” I told the vet. “His face his swollen.”

He looked at Panther’s back where he has been losing hair. “It look’s like a skin infection,” he said. He talked about antibiotics.

“Yes,” I said, “but his face….”

The vet examined the other end of the cat. “Let’s take his temperature,” he said.

Panther told him in raucous tones what he could do with his thermometer.

The vet felt Panther’s legs and stomach while Mum struggled to hold him.

“He has a lump under his jaw,” I said.

“It could be a disease that causes tumours,” said the vet and he went into long details about some disease with a long name.

I was getting light headed. I always have trouble standing for very long and the room was so stuffy.

If he’d only look in the cat’s mouth, I thought. If I was the patient I wouldn’t like to have my back end examined before my mouth.

The vet finally looked at the lump and decided it might be an abscess. He left the room to find a nurse to hold Panther while he put a needle in it.

The walls were starting to close in. “I’ll have to go and sit down,” I said. I left Mum with Panther and went out to the waiting room. It was still hot. I pulled off my socks and stuffed them into my handbag.

Mum finally came out – without Panther. He had to stay and have his abscess drained. It was a long day waiting for the vet to phone for us to pick up Panther. I’m sure Panther found it even more traumatic than we did!

By the time we went home the bottom end of the street was blocked with machinery. I drove back around the block and we walked down from the other end.

Panther has to have the drain removed from his face at the end of the week and his stitches taken out the following week. I’m not looking forward to it.

But at least the road should be finished by then.

Running late again! This might explain why…. (I’ve back-dated a little.)

Wed 11th July

“You’ll be in the Humorous Speech Competition, won’t you?” asked our VPE (Vice President Education) at the last Toastmasters meeting.

I mumbled some excuses. She had warned me six weeks ago that the competition was drawing near. I had agreed to put on my thinking cap – but found it didn’t fit. Now the competition was only two weeks away.

“We only have two entries so far,” she pleaded.

“Oh, alright,” I said. Someone had to make up the numbers. “I’ll come up with something.”

Monday, 16th July

I’ve thought about the competition all week and haven’t come up with anything. I started working on several speech ideas, but can’t get past the opening.

There’s nothing as unfunny as someone who is trying to be funny. In fact, the situation is getting serious. Has anyone seen my funnybone? I seem to have lost it!

I’ve been playing Freecell to help clear my mind.

Tues 17th July

If I sit in front of the computer and worry about writing a speech, I feel as though I am actually working on it. I’ve sorted all my files and bookmarks and I think I’m finally getting the knack of playing Freecell.

Thursday 19th July

I don’t know why I put myself through this! I still haven’t written a humorous speech, but I did manage to write a silly story. I just typed the first ridiculous thought that came into my head and made myself keep going – not knowing how it would end until I got there. I suppose I could use it if I really have to, but it’s not what I call a humorous speech. Something better might come to me…..

I’m starting to win at Freecell.

Friday 20th July

Still looking for a miracle…

Played 20 games of Freecell.

Monday 22nd July

I give in! I’ll have to use that stupid story, but it’s not really funny. Some canned laughter might help. I wonder where I could get a can of the stuff?

2iron

Tuesday 23rd July

Ironed and brushed my clothes for the competition.

People who own long-haired cats shouldn’t buy black slacks. And long-haired cats shouldn’t be allowed to sleep on the ironing board.

No time to play Freecell.

Wed 25th July

They laughed! They actually laughed! I didn’t win but my speech went over much better than I expected.

Well, I mightn’t have won the competition, but I’ll challenge anyone in a game of Freecell!

Our VPE waylaid me as I was leaving the meeting.

“You’ll be in our International Speech Competition, won’t you?”

I just rolled my eyes and rushed out the door!

We’ll see.

Matthew is Three

My little nephew Matthew turned three last week. He had a family party on Sunday at Mum and Dad’s place. Matthew was very excited when he and big brother Robert arrived. He kept telling us, “Big truck!” He’d received a toy truck for his birthday.

He is talking at last. He’s a bright little fellow, but until now he has let big brother Robert do all the talking. Miles, who is a few months older than Matthew, looked astonished when Matthew spoke to him. He stared at Matthew for a moment, then laughed, “Ho, ho ho, he talks!”

Callum brought his toy rifle and the party got rowdy, so they were all shooed into the back yard. I went out to keep an eye on Miles and Matthew. “Here, take Robert his hat,” said Lea.

Robert, Callum and Shea were in the Lychee tree. “Come into our house,” they called. “There’s the door,” Shea pointed to an opening in the thick branches that grew from ground level.

Robert had climbed high up in the tree, so I hung his hat on a lower branch and watched the little ones make a pile of twigs that they had gathered from under the tree. It was lovely in the warm sun. Mum and Relle came out to watch the fun. No need to prepare Sunday Dinner, Jan had gone to buy fish and chips.

“Where’s Robert?” I asked after a while. “I was supposed to give him his hat.” He has such a fair complexion, he’d soon get sunburnt.

He had gone back into the house.

Lea came out chuckling, “I asked Robert where his hat was. He said he left it outside with the old ladies!”

I suppose we seem ancient to a seven-year-old.

A pleasant drive

“Want to come for a drive?” asked Relle. “I haven’t done any highway driving for a while. I thought I’d take a run up to Caboolture.”

“Sure,” I said, “It’s ages since I’ve been up that way.” I don’t get to talk to Relle that often, so it was a good opportunity, and it’s always good to go back and see some of the old places. We used to live in a country town up past Caboolture when I was a teenager.

“How’s this for an urban sprawl,” said Relle as we came upon the outskirts of Caboolture. “It will take a while to get right into the town.” None of those houses were there in our day.

“The main street is still much the same,” I said presently. “I don’t have very pleasant memories of it. Remember that awful dentist we used to come to?” I’d had a lot of work done on my teeth when I was about fifteen. “I’ve always felt I can cope with any pain after going through that!”

“Remember how Dad used to stop at the War Veterans Home on the way back so Jan could see the cocky?” There had been big cages full of parrots at the Home and our little sister had always demanded to see the talking cockatoos.

“Yeah,” said Relle, “She called them cark-carks – or was it just the chooks that were cark-carks?”

“I don’t know, but the first time she saw a picture of an angel she called it a cark-cark!”

“Is this where the Home was?”

“No, I think it was further back. It’s all different now.”

“You know,” I continued, “I can remember a lot more about Jan when she was little than I can about Lea. I suppose it’s because Jan was more of a novelty, being the first…” My two younger sisters were both born when I was in my teens.

“And we didn’t have any photos of Lea when she was little. That probably made a difference too.”

“Yes, I suppose it would.” I was silent, remembering how things were tough when Lea was a baby. Dad was in hospital as a result of an accident and there was no money to waste on photos.

“And of course, Jan was such a holy terror. Remember how we used to walk miles with her in the stroller trying to get her to sleep!”

Relle had turned the car and was heading back homeward. “There’s no way I’m going through Morayfield. It’s just so busy.”

“It used to be one tiny shop and no houses in sight!”

“Well it’s massive now.”

“Yes, we came through there on a bus trip last year.”

It was pleasantly warm with the afternoon sun shining through the car windows. There was not a lot of traffic, and the car glided along effortlessly.

“Oh no… I missed the turn off!”

“Looks like you’ll get extra driving practice!”

We finally made it back after a long detour and completed our outing with a cup of hot chocolate at a local café.

Just a pleasant afternoon.

On the line

Frances hasn’t been well so I have going around to help her and to keep Miles out of her hair.

“Meemar!” Miles greets me. “Are you here again?” He throws his little body against me. “I wuv you. You’re my best friend!”

When I arrived the other day, Frances had started the washing machine. “I’ll just go and have a quick shower,” she said.

She seemed really organised. There was a load of washing already in the clothes basket. They weren’t very wet. She must have put them through the drier, I thought. It won’t take long for them to finish drying in the sun.

I wheeled the trolley out and hung them on the clothes line. When I came back inside, Frances was standing in the laundry, with her head wrapped in a towel. She was looking puzzled. “Where are the clothes?” she asked.

“On the line.”

“They were the dirty clothes,” she told me. “I picked them up off the bathroom floor this morning. The dog slept on them all night!”

Last of the big gamblers

One of my friends phoned me. “Remember we promised to go to the School’s Cent Auction?”

I vaguely remembered …some woman at one of our Jumble Sales had asked us how to go about hiring the hall. She wanted to use it for a Cent Auction for the School. “Why don’t you have it at the school?” I had asked. It would save hiring a hall. “No one would come,” she had said. “We’ll come!” I had promised rashly….

“Well it’s on this morning!” my friend told me.

I groaned. There were so many things I needed to catch up on at home. But I know from experience what its like when people say they’ll come to our World Vision functions and don’t turn up.

“What time?”

I had half an hour to get dressed and drive to the hall. (It wasn’t at the school, after all.)

It wasn’t a bit like I expected. A Cent Auction is usually a social event – someone holds up an item, then they pass around a container for people to put their tickets in and it is drawn before the next item is offered. It can be fun

This one was different – and I could see why they wanted it in the hall, where people were passing by. They just had the items displayed on the table, with a container in front of each one for the tickets. The tickets were to be drawn at midday. “Do we have to stay all morning?” I asked.

They assured me they would phone if I won anything. I put most of my tickets in the container in front of a “Money Tree.” It was a nice potted plant hung with; “Scratch-it” tickets. Once we had deposited our tickets, there was nothing else to hang around for.

“Let’s go on an Op Shop crawl,” I suggested. You’d think we’d get enough of rummaging through second-hand goods, but you never know what you’ll find. By midday I had gathered an armful of books. “I’ll just have time to get home before they ring to tell me I’ve won the Money Tree” I said.

The phone was silent all afternoon. “Looks like I didn’t win anything,” I thought. Then just before dinner, the phone rang. I had won the Money Tree!

The very first ticket I scratched yeilded $2! And there were about twenty more tickets to go. This was exciting! I scratched some more, but got nothing. I took the rest of the tickets to the Jumble Sale the next day and shared them with my friend, who hadn’t won a prize.

“If I win anything, I’ll share it with you,” she said.

“No,” I said. “If you win the 25 Thousand, its all yours.” It’s easy to be generous with what you don’t have.

She scratched two tickets. “Well, there’s $4.”

“How could you do that!” said Joel, when he came around that night. “How would you have felt if she’d won 25 Thousand?”

“I would have been happy for her,” I handed him a ticket. “Here, see if you can win 25 Thousand!”

He didn’t win anything. And neither did I when I scratched the remaining tickets.

The next morning I took my $2 ticket to the Newsagent and redeemed it for two more Scratch-it tickets. I scratched them both and got nothing. So much for my big gambling spree!

“At least I still have the plant they were on,” I consoled myself. It is one of those flowering native plants that bring the birds into the garden.

When I got back to the car, I discovered a bird had made a big splatter on my windscreen. I’m not so sure now that I want to plant that tree!