what i did on my holidays
This photo is from the sleepers website, a photo by Rob Charlton of the launch of the Almanac. I have included it because the hat looks exactly like My Hat, last worn at the races, currently jauntily perched on my footstool, and obviously a well socialised hat.yes, well it's five days since I returned from holidays and I think this might be the first holiday in ages when I've returned refreshed and ready to do more and happy to be at work and to enjoy memories of the holiday and pleasant bursts of nostalgia without wistful sentimentalising.
Adelaide was just a fleeting visit, with main event being my Wine&Cheese&Poetry party. Thanks must go to Big Sister for helping turn that into such a special event. Didn't see any of Adelaide, just port and semaphore road and queen street for breakfast brunch with Mum and Doc and Ned and Gus and Andy. Gus had trouble sittting still whilst brother ignored him by reading a book. Because he can't read yet (starts school in Term Three) everything has to be read to him.
He's taken to making up his own books and journals, by tearing up paper into pages and drawing his own cursive across the pages. He showed me the first page of his latest books, pointing out all the letters and numbers he's incorporated into his writing, it is impressive. After brunch we walked with the boys down Queen Street past the furniture stores and a second hand homewares stall where I suggested Gus and I look for a birthday present for Bec. This is what I love about Gus, he loves drawing and painting and has a good visual eye, so he looked over the button box, fabric basket and then turned his attention to pots and pans. He was convinced he wanted the stoneware container to keep sugar in, but then changed his mind for a 50s/60s era water jug and glasses, decorated with simple but stylish yellow and red stripes and bubbles.
"Is this for your Mum?" asked the shopgirl, thinking he was my son.
"No, it's just for me. But I might also let her use it" said Gus.
Then she asked him about his name (everyone loves Gus), "Where's Gus from?"
"Gus is from FERGUS" he explained, "It's just the last three letters of my name."
The theme of his name was continued later when he discussed the number of names he has with Andy (they each have four) and how he had only one name he didn't like, which was Gus. The name everyone likes to call him by. So Fergus it is, by request.
Both boys are now into AA Milne, Fergus because I dedicated my reading of "When I was six" to him. He sat there listening as I read, wide eyed and shyly smiling then called out "But I'm only four! This should be for Ned, he's six!". But the poem suits him, child that always wants to be older than he is, child that reminisces about being younger ("When I was a baby, I just slept. When I was two, I didn't do anything".) Child that keeps a picture of himself on the day he was born, nursed by Bec and Ned, in his tin box of treasures which include his marble collection (housed in an empty tampon box), brontosauras toy and Tasmanian Devil postcard. He also saved all the money he gets from family (Christmas, birthdays, bribes for tidying his bedroom) and used it to buy himself some trendy thongs decorated with skull and crossbones.
Ned silently read AA Milne and laughed and read out loud the funny bits he liked, such as the poem about not stepping on lines to avoid bears (yes, that one), and didn't show much interest in finding out I had a friend with a name the same as a Milne's character.
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The adult version of Andy Griffiths' scary poetry is The Sleepers Almanac. Lachie was a hit at the poetry party reading out the poem about Ted and Ed and Fred. Lachie and I are starting to have conversations about books and writers and musicians, he likes to listen to Wolfmother and Ozmatli and he likes funny cartoons and rhymes. He's ten.
The Sleepers publishers in Melbourne run salons, including one last night with MJ Hyland and Nicholas Jose, which had I been in Fitzroy about 40 hours earlier than intended (be there tomorrow at 8am!!!) I could have attended.
However I think that my evening of swimming laps at Friends pool in the evening light and briefly talking to Will about his excellent/"crap" party and eating grapes and watching JEWBOY on SBS and listening to my new James record whilst reading The Sleepers Almanac was just as good.
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Back to holiday though, so I was in the Coonwarra with no tv reception, little phone reception, no internet connection. Was I happy? Hell yes, I read books and looked at my cool records I'd bought at PortHole records including Johnny Cash' greatest hits and James. I visited small art galleries and studios in the Coonawarra, great opshops and old buildings in Naracoorte and Penola, some wineries, went to yoga, went to the Whistling Fish bookshop and talked second hand furniture with JJ and Fleur. I discovered a scupltor I want to have a piece by: Guy Detot. I looked at where St Hugos grapes come from and started collecting opinions about the best Coonawarra reds. I hunted for social activities for Andy to do, including the swimming lake, the petanque society, farmers markets, tennis, the best pub socialising (is it the Kincraig or the Bushmans arms) and tried to find out how the 20/30 something crowd partner up.
This theme emerged because I discovered that several guys I'd gone to boarding schools had become fathers recently. Guys last seen during university hedonistic days were settled down and married, living in the country and becoming dads. Not cranky single bitter dads, like Dad of the recent Tropfest winner, or Dad in the funny story from Sleepers Almanac, but optimistic dedicated dads. Andy is definitely envious.
So I started by asking JJ where you go to hook up with people in Robe. He confessed to having no idea, "I was reading books for three years!". It seems he had to go to Melbourne to find Fleur. Then the nice young man who gave me petrol and a cigarette on the back roads of Kangaroo Inn when I ran out of petrol in a storm, explained he went to Ballarat whenever he wanted to socialise. "Because it's so close?" I asked, and he agreed. As for the Naracoorte scene? Don't know, but it was definitely the time to work hard and play hard, all the vineyards stocked up with seasonal employees, people sharing houses like my young mate Matt. Matt spent 2005 in South America, ran out of money, came home, got a vintage job, and hopes to be in Uruguay by Christmas. Matt now has a beard and looks his age (25) and wears his worker blues with ease and enjoys the camaraderie of the cellarhand crew. Asked Andy about the scene at his current workplace. They have change of shift barbecues once a week, work 12 hour shifts and the cellarhands play Wolfmother. He introduced me to Cootie, the cellardoor supervisor, who'd been stirring him all week with "Mate! Someone's driving your car!", and probably witnessed Andy doing the sunscreen application shift whenever I headed out to the swimming lake. He introduced himself by first name, and agreed the lake was the place to be, somewhere he often took kids. I think there was more time to spend in the company of others in the country, and I noticed that at the lakes, kids were always there, as many were there with their Dads as their Mums, not something I notice in the city. There was more Dad time.
There was so much time to talk.
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