Birth, death & marriage
Mood: Blah
Listening to: Silence
Sunday, 11.27pm
Hatches, matches and despatches - the bit inside the back page of the daily newspaper. This week we've had one of each (ok, technically the marriage isn't till next week but that's close enough).
Friend hatched daughter number two on Monday, after nearly 6 years of trying and various misadventures along the way. Feeling guilty that I haven't been round to see her yet or started cross stitching the bib I plan to do, to accompany the cute weeny pink outfit - "Hello, I'm Amy".
Friday was the day for the despatch, a family friend from my husband's youthful district. He was only 52 - that's not so very far away - and died suddenly and unexpectedly while on holiday. You might say, "What a way to go", dropped dead with a heart attack coming into shore from fishing. Tumbled dead out of his boat into the surf, just like that - great for him but how devastating for his family and friends.
The open air funeral started off at their house, an interesting service being a bi-cultural affair with the deceased being Pakeha and the widow Maori. Although most of the speakers were Pakeha, the overall flavour was definitely Maori. Surprisingly the singing was crap, mostly because whoever had the guitar didn't go up to the microphone, and the crowd was so enormous that the outer fringes couldn't quite hear the inner circle and the timing was all over the place. "How Great Thou Art" as a two-hundred part round doesn't quite work.
Being a cocky (farmer) it was fitting that he made his final journey on the back of the farm ute, followed by his car and beloved boat, then the rest of us. At the cemetery, his new tractor was lined up waiting to perform the fill-in. It was here that the Maori took over with widow collapsing and almost crawling into the grave after her husband, and Kuia wailing - keening - quite tunefully and eerily throughout the committal. We had a scattering of karakia, then the guitar came out again as respects were paid by mourners. Three strong images epitomise that funeral for me: the wailing; the obvious bi-culturalism especially in the daughter's behaviour (one minute on the point of collapse, the next bossing and organising); and the poignantly lonely sight of his sister, not quite fitting in with all the procedings but bereft in her grief all the same, being the last member of the family left - their parents were killed in a car accident 16 years ago and there are no other brothers or sisters. I know what being the last one standing is like. It's horrible.
Following the graveside part we adjourned to the Golf Club for refreshments, but there were just so many people there that we retreated fairly soon after. It was a long day - we left home just before 10 am and returned just before 3.
And the Match? Brent's cousin is getting married next Saturday. It will be lovely to catch up with family at a wedding rather than a funeral.
We were out at a 40th birthday last night, and various souls overdid the grape and hops - but not this chicky! Perhaps I've finally learned (learnt?) my lesson after the episode at Dave's. I was teetotal except for half a glass of wine for three weeks after that - Shock Horror!! Last night I did consume three quarters of a bottle of Chardonnay over about six or seven hours, spaced out with Bundaberg Lemon, Lime and Bitters. Nice stuff that. Add a yummy supper to that and I was perfectly capable of driving home so didn't need the nightwear packed in case we stayed out at Dave's - his place was just down the road from the party so we left our car there and walked.
Brent and Dave, silly buggers, got up at six o'clock (sleep, what's that?) and went fishing, but between the dry horrors, pounding heads and dearth of fish I think it was a pretty gruelling day, relieved only by Dave christening his new rod by catching a sixteen pound snapper - his biggest ever. Mind you, it was just about the only fish...they got a couple of blue cod and a great big barracuta and that's about it. Their worst day ever, but we still had fish for tea. Jo spent a miserable day wishing for death I think; considering her diminutive size her capacity for wine is enormous, but she sure overdid it last night. Di and I averted a domestic on the way home (same old story) but it was sodding hard work. She didn't even make it upstairs to bed, crashed in the one we would have used downstairs had we stayed - and Dave was so instantly asleep that he didn't notice her missing till he was getting up for fishing!
Just as I was about to blog tonight, Michael brought his job application to me and asked for help finishing it off. It was the last thing I felt like doing but I feel a bit guilty at not having done it sooner so we got it sorted then and there. Then we tackled his CV - it's really hard when they've just left school and haven't done anything much, and aren't scholarly in spite of having passed UE and NCEA Level 3. Its amazing how creative you can be and still be truthful.
Treasure!! Found a packet of chocolate peanuts tonight - I've scoffed the lot. What a piggy. That undid the good that walking down the beach did yesterday afternoon! Well, weightwise anyway. The positive mental aspect of walking down the beach remains. I reckon if shrinks could plant their patients on a bit of sand and make them walk a couple of k's they could do away with half of their drugs; it's very theraputic.
Cousin Barbara popped in just after lunch, on her way to visit Aunty Doff. That's another of my guilt trips, not having visited her (AD) since her birthday in August. Inexcusable. Perhaps that could be my mission this week - I could walk there, that would help achieve my 20k a week goal that I achieved in week one by the skin of my teeth, and failed by 10k last week.
Bed Fred.
Hey, excitement is rising (for excitement read vanity) - I've nearly had 5000 visitors!! I can scarcely believe it!! Wahoooo!!
Cheers,
Jaybee
