Making a Racquet

Peek-a-boo! I see you! Surely the earliest game we learnt to play.

The kids loved it when I stripped the beds because they knew they’d be able to play as I hung the sheets out to dry. We even made up a little ditty to lengthen the anticipation period and provide a definite end for the ‘boo’.

And didn’t we laugh when they first played hide and seek. That little onesie covered, nappy clad bottom waving in the air with the head under the cushion on the couch. Little toes pushing up and down as we called out, “I wonder if they’re behind the curtain? … No? …” Suddenly they couldn’t stand it anymore and would throw off the cushion shrieking, “I here! I here!”

In a few years the game morphed into heart stopping pounces in dark hallways. For weeks I was terrified to open the pantry door. Once I lifted the lid on the bathroom hamper and the small one leapt up hollering boo with her arms in her Dad’s shirt waving like some laundry ghost. So glad I’d just used the facilities!

When I was about 10 my Dad looked me in the eye and told me that he was going to have to be away for a few nights and as I was the eldest, it was up to me to help mum make sure that everything was locked up at night because there had been a spate of burglaries from farm sheds in the area. Well at least I think he told me that, I certainly took my role very seriously and checked the calendar each morning to see if it was the day of his return.

A night too early, I woke to the sound of a car slowly crunching down the shingle road. I peered out my bedroom window to see a car, with it’s headlights off, turning into our drive way. I froze and ducked down, my heart pounding until I heard a car door click open. At my feet lay my tennis racket. I picked it up, closed the bedroom door on my little sister and tiptoed to wake my brother. Why I didn’t wake my mother I have no idea! Once he had cricket bat in hand, we crept down the dark hallway, there are no streetlights in the country and this was well before those plug in night lights became mum’s go to safety measure.

I told my brother, “If the robber gets past me, it’s up to you to stop him getting to mum.” His 7yr old blond head nodded in agreement and he stood bravely alone in the dark hall. I took up position in the toilet doorway, beside the back door, with racquet raised high above my head. The runner bean fence gate creaked, stealthy steps on the back stairs creeped, the key turned in the lock, the handle crunched as it was carefully swung down and the robber stepped in. With adrenaline pumping I slammed down my weapon on his head. With the grunt of this exertion the intruder turned, I saw it was Dad. I think as the racquet made contact I was already yelling sorry and had let go. My brother came charging into the porch with his bat ready to drive the baddie out. I started yelling – no – no it’s Dad! Then I think mum woke up.

Once we’d all calmed down with a laugh and a hot milo – that woke the little sister. I was able to reflect how thankful I was that I’d hit Dad with the strings – so a useless security guard, and how important clues to reality are missed when in a holy terror. I had heard the keys but never thought – hang on, how come a robber has a set of house keys?

We’re all grown up now, but I’m wondering if we’re still having trouble hearing the keys turning.

According to Genesis, two responsibilities were given to humanity – free choice with their consequences and stewardship of the garden. Surely The Voice to parliament is informing the first and phasing out fossil fuels, plastics and burning is the second.

The future is coming, let’s put down the racquet.

 

Our bedroom window - thanks for the photo sis! 

Decided to put a poster on my garage door.
We get a bit of metro and dog walk foot traffic on our cul-de-sac. 

Whoa! Didn’t see that coming.

For those of us who spend our days assessing, preparing and predicting, this statement is a humiliating admission. Whether grim or agreeable, I like life to be - expected.

The House at Pooh Corner was a regular favourite for bedtime reading. We heard that the bear of very little brain calmly accepted the grim as pathways to the agreeable about which his friend Piglet needed constant reassurance. Eeyore always knew it would rain, Tigger bounced for adventure and Owl was only wise after the event. I never liked Rabbit’s officious efficiency but have to accept that it is the character I have become. I too would happily hang tea towels to dry on the legs of a friend if they were in a convenient position.

Two weeks ago I suddenly had a lump in my throat and a numbing pain that ran up my left shoulder to fizzle with a cracking ache across the centre of my skull. M sat me down to take my blood pressure and found a number that would have made Eeyore lie down and accept his fate. My bottom skimmed a chair in ER triage and within minutes it was hanging out of a hospital gown. I was bundled into bed with a cannula in my arm, blood taken, a chest Xray taken, hooked up to an ECG monitor and listening to Dr Marty jokes. I guess they thought I was having a heart attack. I channelled Pooh and tried to think of a little hum when left to await results.

After many proddings and pokings, I was told that all the things that could have killed me were not the cause, all my organs were in good nick and there was no sign of clots. Even with meds, my BP was Tiggering, so more fluids were extracted for testing. Days later I was released without a cause.

On Friday I sat in my specialist’s office and was told everything the last lot of test results said I didn’t have. Almost apologetically, I was told that I was just suffering from garden variety genetic hypertension that 90% of sufferers have. The Dr said that it must have been slowly rising and that I must have a high tolerance for pain and discomfit. I thought I was too Rabbit for that.   

The lesson is ‘know thyself!’ Legend has it that Socrates scored this on Delphi’s temple in response to the Oracle’s ironic statement that he was the wisest man living because he told her that he knew nothing. But I would say to you – save your life by listening to what your body is telling you. Be aware of changes. Go for routine check ups with your GP.

Do not let yourself be surprised!

 

Friday was also Charlie’s 14^th birthday – a happy surprise that he made it and is still having many bright moments every day despite the cancer eating him away. He loves unwrapping presents. (All these are old, loved toys- he is a dog of small brain and thinks they are new.)

Another First

 

CObs 2.9.23  

Another First

The exciting thing about life is that there are always more firsts along the way; until the last, although I’ve heard it is possible to die twice.

The emotions, these firsts excite, vary. My first filling in a school dental nurse chair with a foot pedal grinding the drill – horror. My first filling pulled out by a toffee after a lolly scramble at a church picnic – fascinated horror. My first olive in a dark Greek restaurant with my fifth form History teacher and class, thinking I’d picked up a grape – shock and confusion. I controlled the choke and spit reflex so no horror in the retell. Chef’s choice to offer pitted olives prevented the dental disaster link you may have been expecting.

A big first is cooking up and birthing a child. Our first was nearly three weeks early. Disbelief, panic, a crazy drive at 5 in the morning made this very exciting. Our second was nearly three weeks late. Desperation, after my obstetrician had said there was no room in the inn for an induction, drove me to gulp down some cod liver oil – and this was before the internet! Even then, nothing moved until I held my newest niece in my arms that afternoon. She was born at 11:50am and cooed away, snuggling contentedly. As if our second had been waiting for her cousin to arrive, she got moving and was born at 11:50pm. So reassuring to be able to walk from my sister -in- law’s maternity room around to the birthing suite and be told that yes, I was in labour.

The twin cousie’s first birthday party was at Featherdale zoo, in the farmyard zone. We saw the power of peer confidence after the candles on their piggy and cow shaped cakes had been blown out. Little fists grabbed and stuffed the first ‘slice?’ into their mouths. After a big grin at each other,  both little heads, one blond, the other brunette were face down in the icing, eating straight from the plate. This gave parents clear warning that these little ones would grab life by the throat.

And so to another first for me today. Petal’s first birthday in a different time zone to us. I have hung no banner, piled no pressies below it and have not made a red velvet cake.  But am so proud of all her firsts as she bounds into lots of new experiences. With London as her base and Rev & Rob as family in the zone she’s working and travelling – Corfu, Amsterdam, Cork and Albania – all firsts, places she never went to with us. Love your stories Petal, love your responsible risk taking, love you. Happy Birthday from your future, we are nine hours ahead! xx

Not stopping her from volunteering at a South African Wild life conservation park in 2017, was the first of many hold your breath, release to the wild moments, as a parent.