Gordy and Patrick
- 2 years ago
- 21
- 0
The rain had stopped overnight and at breakfast I agreed to take Patrick riding. Weena expressed maternal concern and I reassured. I had one of the work horses and an elderly gelding was saddled for Patrick. I sat him down and one of the men fussed about shortening the stirrups. We rode around the yard once and Patrick asked whether we could ride "out." We rode south for about ten minutes, then east and then back. The sun had brought out a very large number of colourful mushrooms, with which he was delighted.
"Don't go picking them," I warned him.
"Why?"
"Many fungi — mushrooms — are poisonous. Unless you're sure, you shouldn't even handle them."
"Oh."
"There's a copy of Young's Australian Fungi in the house. It's got lots of pictures. You could look and see whether you can identify those near the barn."
"Okay."
"But please don't touch any."
"Okay."
When we got back, I found my copy of Young and gave it to Patrick. It was just 10, so Weena and I packed Sarah into her capsule, Patrick onto the left seat, and we took off for our "family visit."
"Can I eat this?"
"What is it?"
"A sweet Gramps gave me. It says 'Gingerbons'."
"Right. It's both sweet and quite spicy. There's a ginger factory over in Yandina."
"Where's that?"
"Bit north and east of here. In from the coast. Try it. If you don't like it, put it back in the wrapper." He opened an end, took out the jelly-like sweet and put it in his mouth.
"I don't like it."
"Put it back in the wrapper."
"Now my mouth feels funny."
"It'll pass."
"Was that the right thing to do?" Weena asked.
"Absolutely. I told him it was sweet and spicy and that he didn't have to finish it. If he doesn't try things, how can he learn. Anyway, I told him not to eat something earlier."
"What?"
"The colourful mushrooms."
"I should hope not!" We turned into a drive and I parked, putting an end to whatever Weena was going to say.
Alice came out with an infant on her hip. She had put on some weight, but it looked good. Weena hoisted Sarah and they chatted for a moment. I couldn't make out anything. Jacky came to the door with a little boy.
"Hey, Jacky!" I said.
"Hey. Gordy, I want you to meet Gordy." He looked down. "Gordy, this is Gordy. I've wanted to say that for nearly five years."
"You're an idiot!"
"I know. Has Weena met little Weena?"
"I think so. That was a dirty trick."
"Yep." He punched me in the shoulder.
I squatted down. "Heya, Gordy."
"Hi."
"Are you going to school yet?"
"Nex' year. Mum's learnd me my letters."
"Taught you."
"Yeah."
"Have you been over to my Mum and Dad's?"
"Yeah. Big house."
"He's usually shy with strangers," Jacky put in.
"I understand. But we're not really strangers. We share a name, don't we?"
"Yeah."
I got up and walked over to Alice and Weena. "All acquainted?"
"Yes. I hope you don't mind, Gordy. Jacky insisted and I had no objection. Come inside."
"Patrick, did you say 'hello' to everyone?"
He shook his head and walked over to Gordy. "Hi. I'm Patrick. The other Gordy's my Dad. I was at your Mum and Dad's wedding. But I don't really remember it. I met the nungungi there."
"Hi." He looked at Patrick. "Wanna see my lamb?"
"Yeah." They wandered off towards the rear of the house. I looked at Jacky.
"We had a cade lamb and he's bottle fed it for six weeks. I'm not certain what we'll do in the long run."
"David had one when he was six. I don't remember it. He was broken up when Dad wanted to have it for Sunday dinner."
"Yes. But then, it's a good lesson." We followed the two — four — girls into the house.
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The Hastings River starts high on the Great Dividing Range running east down through the picturesque Hastings Valley, through unique river towns such as Mount Seaview, Ellenborough and Wauchope before entering the Pacific Ocean at Port Macquarie. Fishing is popular particularly from October through to June each year with peaks during Christmas and Easter. The river has a wide range of fishing opportunities from freshwater bass and catfish in the upper reaches to estuarine species such as...
I felt much better as I walked back to Settlers Inn. Much better. I though of just where I was. Northern coast of New South Wales. I had old friends nearby. Well, only a few hours away. I got my phone book and sat down. There they were: Evans. South Grafton. And a phone number. I tried to call. Busy! What nerve! I’d shower, dress and try again before going out for a drink. But first I looked at the directory beside the phone in my room. There was a LandRover dealer here in Port Macquarie! My...
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I registered, thanked Cook and went for a walk across the bridge to the more fashionable side of Batemans Bay. I was relatively unimpressed. The cafes and windows looked like those near the Opera House, but Cook had been right: there were certainly more seniors than I’d have expected. I was too young to be retired. Or at least I thought so. I thought of having a drink prior to walking back, but picked the wrong venue. I wearing neither jacket nor tie. I shrugged to myself and walked back to...
Dinner with Winnie was a pleasure. We chatted about my wanderings and about the whole notion of loss and search; it was serious, but constructive. “I understand,” Winnie said. “I may not have been devastated when I became a widow. But it was sudden and unexpected. And it changed my life.” “Ten years ago.” “Over a dozen. Time flies.” “‘Tempus edax rerum‘ is what Ovid wrote in Metamorphoses [xv: 234]. ‘Time destroys all.’ Did you ever see Golding’s translation?” “What?” “Arthur Golding. A...
The paddleboat ride along the Darling was interesting, but noisy. I wondered whether folks brought unruly children in the hope that they’d fall in, but this was too far upstream to think they’d be eaten by a giant cod, like Ken in “Love Serenade.” But that took place far downstream, along the Murray. And it was just an idle fantasy. (The Murray Cod, which can grow to about two metres, is not really a cod in a Northern Hemisphere sense, but a giant freshwater perch.) But it was interesting to...
I topped off my diesel before leaving the hotel. I didn’t want to be stranded short of Cameron Corner. [Before I go further, I ought to remark that there are five places where there are surveyed right-angle state border intersections. Cameron Corner, surveyed by John Cameron (NSW) and George Watson (Queensland) in 1879, where the east-west border hits South Australia; Haddon Corner, where South Australia ends in the Channel Country; Poeppel Corner, where South Australia, Queensland and the...
The next day I had breakfast at 6 with several hands and then read in the morning sun for a few hours. Then, in mid-morning, I asked the “girl” about laundry. “You gibbit me, I do good job.” “That’s not necessary. I can do it.” “Not job for nungungi.” “I’m not nungungi.” “Nungungi dad’s nungungi.” I had clearly lost the argument. I appealed to my hostess. “Not a chance,” she said. “Better give in graciously.” So I did. Underwear, shirts, pants, socks. It was a decent-sized...
I called Patrick after dinner. After telling him about my trip, I told him that I’d visited CACH and met Wilgar. “I’ve heard of him. He’s an elder.” “So he said.” “You’re aware of the CACH’s role?” “No, but you’re going to tell me.” “OK. Back in 1999 the Queensland Department of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Policy and Development reported that Cunnamulla’s indigenous community suffered from a high level of domestic violence stemming from an over reliance by the police and the...
I made good time in the morning, but Narrabri was nothing like what I recalled. Thirty years had totally altered the town. There were many new buildings and there was an atmosphere that I didn’t recall sensing. When I registered at the Crossroads Hotel, I realized that the park, the CSIRO and the agricultural wealth had totally altered the ambience of what had been a small town. A pamphlet proclaimed Narrabi “the second richest agricultural shire in Australia.” A glance at the women drinking...
I took my time in the morning, as I intended to stop at Apsley Falls, and that meant waiting till the sun was over the mountains. It took just about an hour to get to the turnoff, a bit east of Walcha. Apsley Falls are the first falls in a succession of dramatic drops in an area that has some of the most remarkable scenery in Eastern Australia. The first drop of the falls is about 65 metres in depth, and the second, which is about 800 metres further on, plummets 58 metres metres to the...
“By the way, what was the flooding like three years ago?” I asked Evans. “A lot of rain. The upstream tributaries in the Range really got hit. And that meant there was really a lot of water in the Clarence. They talked about the Great Flood – well, we nearly beat the record. But our house is over eight metres above high water, so we weren’t in danger.” At nearby Lilydale, the Clarence River peaked at 20.94 metres at midnight on Monday, 28 January 2013. That was close to the 1954 flood...
The next morning we were up and breakfasting well before eight. “It’ll take us two hours to get near the islands and the sugar cane farms,” Evans explained. “There are a few areas I like to fish, about five kilometres up from the mouth. You can look at a chart when we’re on board Rainbow. It looks like a decent day for bream or flathead. We’ll keep some for dinner and release the others.” I’d phoned Patrick when we got back to South Grafton. He’d be happy to help Olwen in any way he could....
I was already feeling hungry when I passed through Narrabri, but I kept on till I got to Pilliga National Park. I stopped at the posting of the Park Service to see where the archaeological remains were. I lost both my appetite for food and for archaeology when I read: Deep in the vast Pilliga Forest lies exquisite Dandry Gorge and the magnificent Sculptures in the Scrub. This once secret location of the Aboriginal Gamilaroi People is now an extraordinary place for all to share. Visit the...
I looked at my notes. They were neither orderly nor compact. But they were terse and they represented, in some way, my thoughts. return to work find a place to live (do P&R want the house?) make friend[s?]? retire in eighteen months do something else (entomology; school; write;?) other? It didn’t look like much. Six points. The first and fourth were straightforward. The second was tough. Or was it? Did I want to relocate for two years or five or... ? If I were to retire, what sense...
I pulled my list from my pocket. “While I was with your parents [nodding to Rachel], I tried to put together a list. But it wasn’t very long. In fact, there are only a few relevant items: return to work find a place to live (do P&R want the house?) make friend[s?]? retire in eighteen months do something else (entomology; school; write;?) And what I want to talk about is three or four of those. First, do you two want the house in Pennant Hills?” “I don’t think so,” said...
I phoned Rachel when I returned to the hotel. “I met your friend Professor Wynne today.” “Oh, she’s a dear.” “Yes. To be blunt, I was wondering whether she’d be a possible friend.” “Hmmm.” “Which means?” “I’d never thought of her in such a way.” “Didn’t Patrick tell you what I said?” “Yes. But I worry.” “Foolish to worry about Winnie or – uh – Sandra.” “You’d enjoy talking to Sandra. She knows as many stories as you do.” “She lives near Kings Cross?” “Yes. On McElhone. I’m not...
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