blah de blarney de blarney

Ah dear, been d'ere- blah de blarney de blarney

As St.Pat's day has been in my face for a week, finally something to write about.
Nearly.
You know- "look, St Patrick's Day Special..." and here, "St Paddy's Day Sale.

Yeah well, green beer is not my idea of celebrating a myth, nor is green Guinness for that matter.

And adding another "special" consumeristic day of email spams trying to get me to buy another laptop and software besides the birthday card also needed and forgotten [Sorry J'nine- Happy Birthday!] just upsets me and the bank manager. Argh, getting grumpy.

Besides that.

Just over twenty years ago, Tarn and I had a week to go travel the Emerald Isle, seeing places we had heard about all our lives.

My Aberdeen boss, where we were living, said "Yep. A week. No- less. Bye."

As usual, never letting a chance go by, our anniversary close or past [?] we took it and left from Glasgow Airport to Dublin, picked up a hire car and left for the north where Tarn's aunt Dot used to live, Carlingford.

From Wikipedia- Carlingford

Now one of the first things you notice, when you travel there as an Aussie, is how much Ireland is Like Oz, as in western Victoria anyway- GREEN soft rolling hills and vales. Cypress and pine tree lined fields, horses, sheep, cosy cottages, and all that stuff.

from bbc

Lots and lots of stone walls instead of mainly the posts and rails or posts and wire usually filling the landscapes at home. On the other hand- I could see a whole lot of WORK put in too!!

Next is the people- nice and not too hard to understand- unlike the Scots- at brekky time...

And mad too- in spring, the end of the footy season, a finals game celebration [how did we not notice how hard it was to get a B&B place in Galway that night?] there were some people, standing up bare chested through their little car's sunroofs drunk and yelling and whooping... [car sunroofs in Europe.... really a selling point?]

Tarn enjoyed the trip- as unplanned and chaotic as it was- "where can we go today?" or "hell, it's getting dark, better find a place to stay!"

We spent just a few days, but did a wonderful Cook's Tour, including the west and southwest and south east coasts- like in - poked our noses out the car window and breathed the Atlantic in, or avoided dropping of the Moher Cliffs, missed the Waterford Shops getting to Dublin Airport-["dang... should have got here earlier"]. Even saw a place called Ford on the map- but could not find it, maybe they up and went to the US a while ago...[just did a quick search with google earth- lots of towns ENDING in 'ford]. Cork was a nice place to stay too- a real Georgian house.

Now the whole point of this particular little write up is that I just read about the Blarney Stone. Being a geo on travel, it was an interesting place to go. The rock looked like the rest of the remains there- I could see nothing special. And I was not going to pay someone to kiss a rock either, upside down or not!!! And there was a DROP that the helper was going to stop you from falling through. Yeaahhhh right. Nup.

But Tarn was easily persuaded, and managed to score some Cookie Jar points off me!

So if you want to know, it really aint special as a rock goes.

But if you like a little adrenaline rush, then the Blarney Stone kissing game is for you.

http://news.sciencemag.org/europe/2014/03/scienceshot-origins-blarney-stone-revealed

There's always That Month

Not that any month should be avoided

September for a lot of people is probably a Hard Month to handle for tragic anniversaries.

[posted nearly a year later. Because]
Here, we have a birthday and a mother's death to get through.

The other weegen, there was pizza Friday, and some beer Satdee with 'some' friends for #2Son annual birthday celebration, a bit of fun had by all. So that's the good side of September.

And then there is the the rest of the month.

Morning 20th, a call from Aunty D, "oh Tone,can't stop think...". Unfortunately, I had managed to avoid remembering that morning, so it was a little dig in the ribs for me- "Shit!".

Taking the kids to the grave site of their mum the last couple of years is getting more painful for them, especially my twin gels. We used to go with their grandfather, but I can see that is getting too much for him too. [This is de ja vu too]

Mid afternoon 20th September. One of the boys was home, from the Big Smoke, the other was missing calls on his cellphone "To Get Home Now, we are Going out" , and there was a visit from Aunty and Pop later in the afternoon. #2 missed the visit.

I would like to get through this visit quietly and, well, not quickly, but at least put the effort in to dust down the tombstone and place fresh garden flowers there. We took some Jasmine and Azaleas, the Jasmine Tarn's favourite thing about the house she chose for us to live in and raise our kids.

A nice remembrance from myself or #1Son might have cheered the gels up, but none came forth this time. Sorry gels.

On the other hand, as #1Son said- spooky because:

Twenty nine years ago this month's end, I had to part with Tarn to start an oilpatch career, which lasted to 1999, on the other side of the country. She did join me there though the next year, and we stayed together where ever I had to work, Perth to Adelaide to Scotland to Melbourne to Gippsland. 

Twelve years ago this month I started another new career path, paused with a Huge Hiccup, and continued with family support. 

Ten years this month ago I had to stop that job and stay at home with the kids, for their sakes and mine. 

By the end of this month, I may be starting down a new career path in the oilpatch, and having to leave teenage girls and a young man in their aunt's care while some money is made and separation anxiety is fought. Finger crossed, September could be a neutral month this year. But is it chicken and egg counting, argh.

nanny reads to the gels

Just an old pic on the wall board

But poppy liked it, Tarn's Mum and her gels

Get It? Her girls- Who's gels? Hers! Who? Well, Tarn's and Bev's gels then.

Nanny Bev and my twins- gel#1b &  gel#1a, eldest gel got pink for evermore....

I was asked a while ago to print off a pic of my gels by Tarns's dad when he was around for a meal, oh, about the time of  Mother's Day here in Oz.

"Yep, no worries" I said.

With trepidation. Several thousand pics to go through on the hard drive....

At least I had roughly a time in their growth

1. they were on Nanny's knee.
2. there was no lamp table next to the chair.
3. Nanny did not have a wig on.
4. they were walking.
5. it was well before we lost Nanny to cancer.
6. they loved being read to.
7. pics were not labelled, but all pics were foldered year, month and day.

Today, before lunch, I sat down here and did that calculation above.

Easy peasy. Five minutes or so.
Next was to process the pic, cropping and so on.
Then print off. First print on matt paper trying out the bottom one
Nah, the print was too grey to me, so fancied it up and printed the next one off on Kodak glossy. Shit, nearly late for work! Not really five minutes at all, haha.

Later. "Noice".

original

no tick?

tick?

Next installment tbalance the books, their paternal nanny!

Sadder Each Time Now

Mother's Day for My Gels

Is getting to me

Each year, the girls seem to appreciate more the loss of a mum they never knew.

Adelaide, I think.

The last few years has been a bit gut wretching for me, to keep a stiff upper lip, to not let my tears show too much as we visit their mum's grave site, as I hold the twin's hands on her special days of the year- birthday, Mother's day, the accident anniversary.

Their grandfather seems to be affected by their moods too, at those times out there, so I do not like to invite him along at those times anymore either- I do not know whether that is selfish, but as the oldest child of eldest childs [make sense?], I try to control or have order and try to ensure everybody is not unsatisfied with a situation.

This year, the weather on Tarn's birthday was atrocious. No Visit 'Out There'. Just a little pizza night later that week with the kids and Ken and Brenda.

This week, Mother's Day, another anniversary, weather again unco-operative. However, stiff upper lip and surprise visit, whether they really wanted to or not, to the grave site with some flowers. By the time we got out of the car, the gels were teary. Another short rainy visit. Like the day of the burial. To me, Just Great. Not. Then home via the hospital to see Ken's partner Brenda, who is recovering [well?] from surgery, to give her flowers and cheer her up. Funny thing was, we followed Ken into the car park!

The night before, Son#2 came into my office, and said a little tippsily, that he really like that picture above, and where was it taken. So this blog is for him and his aunt.

For my Mum, I sent flowers, she had visits from at least two of my siblings, so I think Mum had a good weegen.

I appreciate the little things when they come around. Tarnia's little sister has lifted me a bit today, always so nice to read her blog which includes us too.

Moving on up...cell phones

So I succumbed

The gels get a phone

For their birthday last month. Thus keeping up with all the other little Jones'. Hard to believe the little tomboys are now on the verge of actual teen-hood. Mind you, they better grow a waist, the new school pants are the right colour and length. Only. Alterations were more than the original cost!

Phones

Severe restrictions of course. Fatherhood allows that. Does it not?

one- do not use them...

two- I do not want to subsidise over-use thank you very much

three- do not drop them

four- I cannot remember

five- use facetime?

six- use the landline?

Anyway, so far, no recharge yet until the next few weeks...

Maybe they are being sensible? 

[But one cent texts... #2Son can fill five sheets of his phone bill with itemised sms calls...]

They did lose the privledge of use because they could not keep a tidy room. In one case, nearly a fortnight. 

"Have you finished your room?" 

"Almost" 

"Well, do you want your phone AND iPod back or what?"

"Yeah..?"

"WELL?"

I dunno how the human race arrived at this point.

Did Julius Caesar give his folks grief like that?

The Boys

Eldest son was suitably Outraged that the gels got a phone in the first year of high school, whereas he had to wait until I had a spare when he was in his second  or third year, long after friends had them. Even so, he was good with it.

The second son managed to scrounge a second hand one off a richer friend when he was in his first or second year at high school. And managed to sell "his bmx bike spares" to maintain the SIM card and plan that had to be gotten under my name anyway.

I think they are outraged as I really did go out and buy the twins a phone each, even though I probably will bleed financially as soon as they get the hang of them.

But... As the gels already have Apple Touches with wifi video- do they really need a cell phone? I thought no. With the Facetime, it was fine really, the broadband plan was upgraded enough to cover the five technophiles that lived under my roof anyway. 

Tarn

Tarn would have been mortified, being the sort of technophobe that had to be gently persuaded over many months that a new bra would be better than the one with the loose under wire[s?] prodding her conciousness over whether I would be unamused at such an extravagance: 

"A new bra? What!" which I never said by the way because I could not understand it. But maybe I with some affluence and consumeristic ideas I had devolved into a toddler- 

"GIMME IT. NOW!" 

I do not think that a new vacuum cleaner would be allowed either- I love my dyson...

So the boys were a little nose out of joint- was it favouritism?

Me

No.

I need the gels to feel safe in these times, for example that they do not have to scramble for a coin AND a public telephone if they need help. Being the single parent/single dad, I need to be re-assured that they can be safe, all the time. Do you know that the number of public telephone in our town can be counted on one hand...? Well, google earth won't let me find them, but I am sure there is a lot less around these days than when I was a kid. But I can find a video store...

The Birthday celebrations

Stars and Fags

Missing.
And missing? Bad and good

After Tarn had gone, sometimes I would stand outside my back door. With a roll-your-own-cigarette. And a home made milk stout. Missing her and that.

Pondering. She is not to be seen again, held, listened to, care for us, watch the kids grow into the people we had hoped for, share life with.

It is not like divorce I suppose. No. I know.

Back then, now sometimes. Staring at the Southern Cross. Smoking. Sipping- not gulping.

Not being sorry for me, exactly- rather rationalising the not-really-felt-hurt to a future feeling of what-would-be-without-her. Sort of feeling/knowing[?]- I am gunna do this.

A lot of nights like that. Even in England, a few years later, looking at a different sky. Drunk, smoking, staring at a frosty fields and the stars, listening on the phone to the kids at mega-dollars per minute a million miles away. Missing.

And every time now even, when I step out into the night, there is that reminder of what it is/was/is to lose that close one, Tarn. Not of where I am.

Nothing special about that- I spose shallow could be a label. But I am here, with one child out the door, and the twins celebrating twelve years of being in my special presence, the other boy contemplating the complications of life before he leaves the nest.

There is/has/is been a weird idea/feeling that I was groomed- if anything should happen- Know This. [See recipes and other ponderings]. It seems my own parenting and then the shared life with Tarn prepared me to be able to get these dang kids out the door on their own two feet as thinking social individuals.

We did not really connect on each others passions as such, but shared or went with the flow anyway- a gallery show or sailing. We liked each other, the attitude, the affronts, "The Young Ones". The differences- as in country and city mouses that we were. A concert was a direct connect. The kids would have been a battlefield as they reached their teens, reflecting now. All round- not just Them, but between us as well I guess. [I do like gadgets and tv...]

There was supposed to be three kids. In reality there was four successful attempts that I know of, but between the first and second was a loss. While I was at work.

I sometimes wonder if the effects of the vanished child resounded within her for along. Certainly there was, but we did get through a couple of pills/drinks and a realisation- numbness and numbness=Not Good. Maybe there was the thought in her mind that "After a boy child, there Should Be A Girl Child". Tarn never did get to tell me more about the lost child- I think it was too traumatic. Tarn's mother never told me about what happened either- looks like it was just between me and Tarn.

Which was how I lost a probably okay new relationship a few years afterwards- it got to a required numbness and meant less judgement and feelings. Once a balance is regained, the new realisation of how life worked, at the time, meant losing that relationship- not needed? Could we leave it for later? I like to do things myself. Selfish and shallow?

And now looking back after the grieving period, there was a sense of anxiety- and a period of numbness after that.

A lot of, dunno, not excessive , but too much trying with "help". And the stars again. Calls to people not returned in kind. And that fact being revealed/exposed.

Grateful I am to the new friends made since.

Yesterday, I was in the mall, and met a couple from post-Tarn period that I had not seen for ages. Work had gone down in Bass Strait a few years ago. He had been given the choice of Siberia or the road. The road was just fine, "thanks for the loyalty". They were there for whatever, he just back from the Middle East, and they invited me/us to join them for a drink. I was so tempted, and said, "Maybe? Be back soon." The hunt was a failure [birthday shopping], so I returned to them at the coffee shoppe, and the coffee was a unjust reward. We chatted about life. Kids- of their two- one was at uni now like my #1Son and the other nearly finished secondary school. A mutual friend from our former company had died. Another was travelling the world with her partner and children- Paris, Moscow and other places- what a life. Hmm. Another friend was still in The Big Smoke struggling with their health. Contact renewed. Maybe a job prospect down the line- anything to do with new technology and being the beta tester!

I must visit people more. Selfish, shallow and unsocial-able. What else am I? Oh yeah, the point- missing Tarn and smoking. Having just put the scraps in the compost at midnight- Stars above set me off...

Doesn't help sleeping that I propose to toss out her belongings that were too hard to part with years ago. Boxes of letters. Clothes. Travel brochures and Fashion and stuff. I don't know if it is worth anything to her kids now. Me- looks like I am hoarding now. The house is full of unjunk. Do I need a fresh start somewhere else?

Bluudie ell, a ciggie woul' go doon jus so goot rat noo....

In passing

As I followed I saw
A grownup waiting

Recently or... only yesterday?

As gel#1a went to her mirror in her own room, I saw,  to brush her hair- I thought- "OMG she is nearly grownup!" Not apparent to all maybe, but she is at my eye level to me now or more, and her sister not that different either. Mozzy bites too... Not looking forward to the miseries of the monthly cycle DOUBLED coming along soon- or am I being too anxious? Their mum was a little fragile once in a while, but I don't think she ever bit my head off. I was grumpier usually anyway. For both of us. Or sillier.

Want, Do not Want


Son#2 had a bit of a hangover over the weegen. A knock on the frontdoor at 3am by his friend from two doors down from us to say, "he has made a mess, is pretty smashed, but okay and we will look after him". Hmm. He tried to explain "wot 'appenned", but I really did not want to know. "I do not want you to do this sort of thing. I cannot stop you or keep you at home, but I will restrict privileges like the phone etc". Took me another year... He wants to leave school to make money and enjoy himself. I want him to enjoy another few years of relative freedom and pass some exams, which is pretty different to the outside circus we have to work in.

Duty Calls


Son#1 has made it to the Jury roster this week... He is coping with uni. Just. With his first year away nearly complete, he wants his own place, without 'friends' partying outside his room or next door. That is pretty serious for a first year, is it not?

Working away


I had on offer on a completely different type of professional job in a faraway town that I regretfully had to pass on. A geologist cannot be a metallurgist. Or why not? Travel time and time away may have been difficult unless we uproot. They did not ask for a resume... Comment please- should I shove my resume to them anyway?

Just another..Day

Another Anniversary
Thank you to those that have acknowledged it.

I won't be taking the kids out to the plot today. So far.

It's cold and wet, I have a cold, and too much a reminder of the funeral day

The last time, the gels were upset, not sure how they got that way, maybe my vibes were bad and catchy.

I think the feelings get harder to bear each passing year- but it's only a day. Or Week. And it passes.

Tarn would be pretty chuffed to see where we are at present. Not up our selves or struggling too badly.

The eldest child all adult like and pursuing a life much like we had ourselves so many years ago, that was such a great time. It is weird not having him as the rock around the house- a sure thing as a sounding stone, let's hope he does well this first year away.

The second child is also becoming such a new responsible young adult too, a couple of after school jobs, a smart beautiful girlfriend, and he is actually liking some school subjects. His aim at this time is to work to live- GF, skate, bike, iphone... Doing some work experience at a cafe this week...

And the gels are so close to becoming young women, it is scary. A very social pair, they are the best-est ever friends. But they are not getting phone or FB until later on next year if I can help it, the telephone and Facetime are getting enough of a workout at this time.

I retreat more and more to books, the net and telly, but also wanting to take off with them somewhere. Plans of mice and men. Obligations. Needs and wants. Have to things and Cannots.

My last one just walking by

It was her mother!
Well, not really.
But the other day, after parent teacher interviews with her big brother's teachers, I had to grab this pic of gel#1b.

My ninja!

To some this will embody her mum.

I have to confess, I was so intent on seeing that I was seen to give a shit about her brother, that I was pretty late picking up gel#1a from school band practice and there were tears again as she got in the car (2 weeks in a row- what's wrong with me?) to go to our brass band lesson.

And that made me sad. Running out of time.

Tarn would have killed me for pruning this so hard!

Reminds me of time of year- not just the garden.

I had no great words for the paper for Tarn's obit, nor will ever, just daggy run ons like this. Every week there are little paragraphs in the local paper- 'in memorium'. After the fact, an anniversary.

I keep promising me to put one in, missed the tenth, and will not put one in this year, cannot out the words together so succinctly, and the ones I see in the paper make me grind my teeth with jealousy. The next few weeks will be difficult enough, and I am sure there will be people tiptoeing around me, some that won't, and some that won't give a shit- 'dragging it out aren't you?'.
Stupidos. Bstds.

maybe here, I will say,
I miss her
She was bossy
She was good to me
She made me do it
She let me do it
I had to insist on some things, or let time work it out, but she'd come round as if it were her idea
I miss her
We were good together. I think.
My best friend, but some how I don't think I was hers. She had some good BFFs.
I was bad and grumpy, and was never put in my place. Later, so much late, after seeing that video, I am ashamed of being so selfish, and so will not pursue anyone else any more, old dog syndrome I think. Grumpy old man.

See, can't put that in a paper.

Not the cherry tree from her sister(MIA)- a blood plum in blossom

Little ol lady, grrrr

A rant and rage, not family value

Chaddy Cooks tour

Like my Irish Cooks Tour
Short but long

When I was pretty young, my mum took me, and my brother as well, to see Santa at the newish Myer store at Chadstone. The getup was up on the roof if memory serves right.  And a sunny day, being Summer Marv.

For the last couple of years, I have avoided the Myer Christmas windows in the Big Smoke and taking the gels shopping anywhere in town or the Big Smoke.

But now...

Uh oh, it's .....here

The Kid Doc Prog...
Looks Like "We are There"

Penultimate visit, climatic moment, the pre bit is over, now I am in for the Terrible Teen Twin Syndrome.
Fer Shure...

With luck, some nice female rels I know may bail me out, by taking them away? Or being on permanent Red Alert (hint) for the next two years. I am prepared, bathroom cupboard has essentials, and by last weegen phone calls, the bitchy part of nature is starting to reveal itself too I think. The recent sweet school photos are hiding something, or maybe I am paranoid. Since Easter..... things are changing.

Son#2 was or can be even now a sullen sob at times, and now that I have been through that shite/going thru I can see the "evilness" coming upon me. Woe is me. Why was Son#1 so easy at this stage. Or. Was. It. ? Hm.

I am in no position pike out of it either. It is somewhat amusing that I keep thinking now, "Tarn would be/do/not/hoping/glad/panic/...etc/etc"

I may even have to enlist some of the boy's female friends to find out whether I am on the right track or not.

The kid docs prognosis is [twilight zone music or gremlins?] that we, they, are officially not far off a visit to.....

Myers Bra Outfittery?

Family Cooking (IV) Tuna Mornay

Tuna Mornay
A Main Meal

With full acknowledgments to Tarn, Bev and Dee

As a kid, I liked fish two ways, tuna from the can, and battered deep fried flake (gummy shark). Adelaide, the Eighties, Tarnia tried to get me to eat her favourite fish dinner- salmon patties. "Yeah but Nah, thanks Tarn.", then got me with the Tuna Mornay instead, oh yummy! Of course, tuna was not her fave...

Family Cooking (III) Quiche

Quiche and Baked Potato
Tarnia's way


For four people.

This is the first of two ways I get the kids to eat cheese and eggs...

Mothers

Happy Mothers Day to my Mum.
And to Bev's memory too. My Granma and Nanny.

I wish I could say it all to Tarn. All eighteen times. Those missing ten times...

Family Cooking (II) Chow Mien

Tarn's Chow Mien


With one so favourable comment- let me do another Tarn recipe, one that she says she got off her mum. I think after ten years I may have changed the basics, but the kids and their cousins and their aunts like it.

Why be a single dad, 2nd try

To be a single dad these days has not been hard. Rocky?

I am a just an ordinary SOB, and proud of it. My kids are now teeners, and show pride in themselves and look up to me, or ignore me. They are pretty resilient too. Teeners.

I accepted a challenge ten years ago, never thinking that I could not raise four kids after their mum died.

Common sense, try to keep a to a budget, all helps. Having had a stern and kind pair of parents was a good idea. Although one keeps sending me emails that I thought would make her blush 'n stutter and plain tell someone off for using that the language a while ago! The net...

Along the way people have been there for us. I have tried some counselling and medication and even tried a new relationship. All of those things may have helped steer my boat, and may not have. I like to keep some things to myself.

Still here, still going, despite personal misgivings. Still navigating a rocky stream. Still thinking I can give it a go alone.