Dear Mother-in-law

Thankyou so much for your call this morning and your rude sarcastic tone when I informed you that no, your son was not at home mis-spending his time with me but out working in the cyclonic wind and pouring rain. Your assertion that you would call him on his mobile(to check if I was telling the truth) shows again your complete understanding of his busy schedule and your naturally kind and thoughful nature. Your continued consideration of his health and happiness was again evident when you did not bother to enquire as to how he was or whether he indeed had any time to take your long and self-serving call. Your insistance that you will attend the State of Origin match with my husband's infirm father is interesting when in the very next breath you proceed to damn, detest and deride him. This is especially so when you have repeatedly stated over the years that no-one would drag you to watch such a pointless revolting game, as "My time is rather more valuable to me that that!". This decision to attend is also despite your clear knowledge of the thrill it would give my husband to go, especially given that it is his blood relative(not yours) who is likely to be honoured at this match. My husband's phonecall to me, following yours to him, was again filled with the choking pain you always leave him in. I hope you enjoyed your morning of spreading spite and poison and look forward to your continued complaints against my son for his not doing enough jobs around the house for you, kissing your putrid feet nor being the fictitional totally unrealistic son that you think you wanted him to be. Evidently, the indesputible fact that you are the mother of a truly beautiful person has escaped you yet again and any small showing of a mother's love and kindness is beyond you. I can only thank you now for the vitriol you spat at me when first, in 1988, you backed me into a corner in your hallway, stabbed me in the breast with your pointed finger and told me that I was NOT the daughter-in-law you wanted. Indeed I would likely detest myself if I WERE the type of person that somebody like you did approve of so you will understand my thankfulness in this matter is heartfelt. Coincidentally you nor are you the Mother-in-law that I hoped for! I also appreciate your advice at the time that your son was a horrible person and why anyone would want to marry such a dreadfully disagreeable, drug addled dropout was completely beyond your comprehension. It seems that despite your oft touted law degree and constant air of superior intelligence, many things are. I will also take this opportunity to thank you for your part in creating the sensitive and well adjusted man my husband is now. That you have reached this pinnacle of achievement through cruelty, selfishness and downright evil has only served to ensure that your son is the complete opposite of you. His lifelong battle to break away from everything you are, has been a constant torture and the pain and guilt he feels now in acknowledging his rejection of you, is in contrast to your complete lack of regret at past horrors or consideration for anyone other than yourself. Another aspect for which I am eternally grateful to you is the luxury that I have of blaming every one of his small and insignificant faults and every one of the equally insigificant hiccups within our marriage entirely on you. Any disagreement that we have are obviously again the result of his rebellion against you. His refusal to put the toilet seat down is your fault, as is his occasional excessive alcohol consumption and his sometimes mildly irritating passion for football. I am left in no doubt as to your culpability for any actions he has taken over the years which have been in any way cold or remote or have shown any disrespect to women. You must be so proud. Clearly I have much to be thankful for. It is a shame that you too cannot be thankful he is not like you, for if he were I can only imagine the fireworks as the two of your fought to force your will upon each other. So I will thank you again for your phonecall. I appreciate these calls, seldom and succinct as they may be, as they serve only to remind me of all that I must be truly grateful for. Your one and only... daughter-in-law, Alice. Apologies for the long and poorly structured sentences, anger doesn't like to spell-check.

Autumn Afternoon

There is something about the afternoon light in autumn. I love the feel of winter on the edge of the breeze, like a promise of warm roast dinners and mugs of steaming hot milo. But there is something else too, the dark creeping up on you early and a new quietness as people withdraw inside their homes that bit sooner each day leaving behind a still, sad loneliness that reaches deep inside. It makes me want to cook and bustle in the kitchen, make noise and light that will reach it's fingers out of my windows and fill that cold sky, streaked with lonely afternoon bird calls, with warmth and music and human energy.

Moment.

The 4WD was big and new and shiny, you know the kind, one that has never left the bitumen and probably never will. I was sitting at the table in the park while S slept. I was still sipping my second beer while he had downed his in the usual minimal number of gulps. The view in front of me was laid out in a patchwork of greens and blues; trees, fields, towns and forests all laid out like a checkered tablecloth leading out to sea. I was allowing myself to relax and soak it all in when the vehicle turned off the road and rumbled urgently past me. Doors slammed and the sound of childen laughing rang across the bright green grass. The childen ran past me, laughing, wrestling. A boy of about twelve, a girl of ten or so, their mother herding them, camera in hand.
"Get over by that tree." She ordered, and they laughed, obliging, caught up in their own happiness and in the game they played. "No, not there! By the side, off to one side." The children tussled again, the boy pushed his sister, laughing, she pushed him back, then he hugged her and the camera clicked. Two laughing faces framed by pink frangipani flowers on one side and the distant carpet of the greens hills fading into the ocean on the other. Perfect.
The children ran back past me and I glanced up to catch the mother's eye. She shook her head, flustered, tired out by their energy and volume. I smiled. I wanted to say, "Stop! Enjoy this moment. In two years those children won't run and laugh like that. They will scowl at you when you ask for their photo if they even deign to sit in a car with you on a Sunday afternoon in the first place." But I just smiled. And she herded them back into the car and in a spin of rubber on the gravel they were gone. Children's laughter fading into the exhaust fumes of an oversized 4WD leaving a hurry on a Sunday afternoon.

I am glad they have the photo.

Fish

The warmth came back yesterday, clear sun on the sandy beach and Ardi frollicked with a new puppy friend and I didn't have to walk home but just clean the sand out of the car when I got back. I wanted to take him down again later, but he is so spoilt he hates the back of the ute and there's no way we were taking him in the front and also last time we fished with him he ate the other fishermen's bait. So we stood in the perfect afternoon air and cast our lines into the little waves and watched the fish darting in the surf. I lost count of how many we caught, we just kept the big ones and let the others flip out of our fingers and back into the water with the energy of terror.After dark when the cold air started streaming in, I carried my big pot of fish soup over next door. The table was loaded, the good plates and wine glasses and happy faces and huge platters of food, grilled fish and baked fish and steamed fish...fish.I drank a whole bottle of red wine without enough help and then listened to myself as my mouth ran away talking too much, words spilling out as freely as the wine spilt in. I should have a hangover this morning but I don't, so I figure it must have been a pretty good bottle of wine. It is a shame I can't remember the label or I would go out and buy some more.This morning it is another gorgeous day, S and the Traveller are back working on the fence, after they put an upright in the wrong place last week when I was out. So after some re-designing this morning, we are back on track and I should stay here and help them but am going to take my son the the shops and meet my daughter there as she stayed at a friends last night and she is going to choose some clothes for the boy because she says if I choose them they will be sans style and she can't have a brother who doesn't look cool.And I wonder if you read all that hardly taking a breath because that is how I typed it. Have a nice day everybody :)

Dream

The light tap on my door merges with my dream and I know I have to leave my dream behind and wake myself up, I pull myself out of it, it is like dragging myself out of a pool of molasses, a sweet laziness which is warm to lie in but uncomfortable to leave. My sister has made me a cup of coffee. I want to be awake to speak with her before she leaves, but my brain is slow, still drenched with the heaviness of my dream. I listen instead, trying to make the right responses but my mind is still in the dream. My daughter was there, she said she was having a party because she is going away. She didn't invite me, and I am sad because she is leaving. I want to get to the party so that I can see her, but it is too far away and now my sister wants me to drink coffee with her and I am going to miss the party. It will be over before I get there, so I sit there sipping and I make the right responses.