Datcat

Back in the PC days (pre-children) ….. I had hair down to my waist.

It is straight, but really soft and fine, and when it was that long, it spent the night waging war on the bed. I would wake up with a rats nest that needed unravelling before I went to work. So we had this routine ….. every night he would brush my hair for me, and then plait it in a single indian style plait down the back, since I slept on my side. I could do it myself, but it was a stunningly caring and sensual thing to have him do it. Being PC as I said, a lot of the time it led to having to re-do the plait about an hour later ….. ….. but it was a wonderful moment of physical intimacy, that doesn’t happen much now, as I have shorter hair.

And as we have got older, the hair has got shorter …. both his and mine. I miss his wild curls especially. I understand that they looked cool when he was 18, and streaked in good 80’s style, but not so great when there is more grey than black, but still ….. I miss them.

I miss my really long hair too …… being a mum means I just don’t have the time to devote to it anymore.

When my kids were babies and young children, I was very strict about bedtime. It didn’t matter what was on TV, whether it was easter or xmas, whether we had visitors …. bedtime was immovable. Of course, it moved to suit the age of the child, but still, 8.30pm was this magical time, when all children stopped watching tellie and went to bed.

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Parenting teens ….. now this is a journey filled with tears, door slamming, pitfalls, and many many emotional filled “I hate you!” declarations. Scientists tell us that teenagers have a similar amount of rapid neurone development as 2 yr olds, which can lead to neural overload when a teen is faced with conflict or trauma (as in .. you know, being told no ). Here’s a couple of tips to get you through.

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Now I definitely can’t vouch for the truth of this one, and I don’t even remember the guys name, and I am not sure the goanna’s specifically go around tree’s before climbing them. Still, a good yarn.

Dad (as a young kid) was out fishing with a couple of mates, and their dads. One in particular, was a real old guy, that had lost his leg in the war. He had a wooden leg from just below the knee. As most amputee’s will tell you, your average wooden leg is not the most comfortable thing to wear, so this old guy would grab his billy full of tea, some bait, his rod, and then settle himself down with his back to a tree. He would remove his wooden leg, and then sit there and fish for a few hours, drinking his tea straight from the billy. Meanwhile, Dad and his mates, would be wandering around the bush, too young to bother with sitting for hours with a stick in their hands, chasing spiders and snakes. One day, they came upon an enormous goanna, which was not impressed with being bothered by a bunch of young boys. After hissing and spitting at them for a while, this lizard spun around, and ran straight for the tree the old guy was leaning against. When it got to the tree, it ran straight around the base, and straight up the trunk, not noticing the old guy sitting there. The claws ripping into his chest and face, and without his leg, he couldn’t get up fast enough to get out of its way. Dad said that the sight of this old guy, standing on one leg, waving the other one at him, with scratches and claw marks all over his face, was funny enough to be worth the belting he got from his dad.

These are a couple of remembered stories of my dad’s, told to us kids over many a campfire while out fishing. Now I can’t vouch for the truth of any of these stories, my dad was an award winning bullshit artist. Still, he told a good story. I will add to these as I remember them, because with Dad gone, there’s noone left to tell them.

My aunt married a Yugoslavian called John (actual name spelling I have no idea), but the family always called him Yugie. He was a new immigrant, and all for the drinking and fun that went along with fishing with Dad, uncle Richard and uncle Lionel. One night around the campfire, Dad and Lionel told him the classic long complicated aussie story about “drop bears”. Yugie was properly impressed and terrified. Next day, the Lionel and Yugie spread out looking for more wood for the campfire. Now Lionel is a huge man, 6ft5 and weighs about 20 stone. Yugie was a weedy guy. Lionel picks up this enormous log, hoists it on his shoulder, and walks back towards the campsite. Yugie, not wanting to be outdone, picks up this equally huge log, somehow manages to get it on his shoulder, and staggers back towards the campfire. Dad is sitting with Richard, and says to his brother “hey wanna see something funny?”. He then stands up, yells out at the top of his voice “Hey Yugie, look out for the drop bear!”. Dad says that poor old Yugie nearly turned himself inside out trying to run, drop the log and look up …. all at the same time. Dad, Lionel and Richard nearly wet themselves with laughter. Yugie thought it was funny too …… eventually.

Well, as a background …. I have been having problems with my back for a few weeks now. its mostly around my ribcage, and I know its because I am out of alignment, and I don’t sit straight at my computer. Oh, and because I haven’t been to a chiro for about 5 years now.

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