One garden, two houses, some lessons from the past and hope for the future. A look at life in New Zealand, a bit of history and a Morris jig or two.
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August 20, 2011
Some of my early birthday cards
Thanks to my mother's hoarding habits, and my father's neat archiving, I have all sorts of insights into every facet of their lives. I was enchanted to discover letters to my mother from my father's employers (the Australian National Antarctic Research Expedition) not only congratulating her on my birth but also arranging for our care in a nursing home, while her husband was stationed at the Australian
Amongst the mementos that surround my birth, is my father's entry in his desk calendar, showing my expected arrival date and revealing manly insecurity;
I expect to become a dad
now know am a man and have got what it takes.
While for my mother there was cooing sentiment from friends and relatives, like the message in the card above; Aren't you a lucky girl Joan getting a baby girl.
An intriguing find that relates to my birth is the little pill box dispensed by the Queen Victoria Hospital pharmacy and directing O Hobby (my mother rarely uses her first name Olive but it always appears on documentation) to take one tablet two times a day after meals. The tablets may have been for pain relief, but it is the little hand made paper box that intrigues me; quite empty and still whole after all these years.
"How many years?" prompts Lady Mondegreen.
And indeed it was a wonderful day: the sun came out at last,
the children plied me with beautifully chosen and wrapped presents, as well as banana and bacon pancakes, we went to see a play with many of Bryony's friends acting, and finished the day with a pot-luck dinner for family and friends.