I Sometimes See an Old Man – Past his Use-by Date

How lovely it always feels to sit at my computer ready to pour forth some story, a poem maybe, words. My happy place. There are thousands of ways people make themselves happy. I hope that even those with shitty lives – those abused, those homeless, hungry, grieving can find a little happiness somewhere, somehow.

I am finding a renewed happiness in gardening. Comes with a glad, peaceful heart I think. I have some close friends who absolutely lose themselves in their gardens. Its addictive. Time can slip by at a rapid rate while your hands are in soil and the creative juices flowing with plans and designs.

I can imagine, for a man, the joy of being in his shed, making things, fixing things, building machines. Age can take things away. If I am in a country town in a farming community, I sometimes see an old man who I deem to be a retired farmer – past his use-by date on the farm, now in his front garden – mowing his small lawn, pulling out weeds, standing with a hose in his hand, watering the roses, with a stare into the past – a past of tending thousands of acres and livestock, of tractors and headers, welders, repairs in his workshop, his beloved ute with a kelpie on the back.

What has age done to me, or for me? What is has done TO me is make my step a little slower, although I try for that not to be so. I see myself in photos and think ‘What happened to the young girl I seemed to be not so long ago?’ Hair changed colour, a little more weight, lines on what used to be a smooth face. But I enjoy great health and energy.

What it has done FOR me is to give me the time to indulge in my loves – my love of writing, reading, listening, watching, and travel that is on the horizon.

Listening to Spotify as I write today – The Waifs are an Australian folk rock band whose music I love. Just saw the cover of their album ‘Ironbark.’ What a beautiful cover. Some photographer, designer who loves his craft put it up. This is a group who started out touring rural Australia and performing to anyone who would have them. They are storytellers with an extraordinary affinity with our country.

When we were doing our own travelling in the seventies, there were musicians like this, who we encountered on the road. We always gravitated towards them – indulging in the sounds of fellow travelers – with instruments and voices , stories and a sense of adventure – who had found each other. There were those with whom we may have spent just one night – in a caravan park – like ‘Mulga Bill’s Bicycle Band’ who we met at Mataranka and who were on their way to a Darwin folk festival. We spent such a rich evening with them. They sang in the camp for hours. Next morning as we parted ways, they gave us an EP they had recorded. I still have it.

Whilst living in Townsville we met a couple – singer/songwriters – who had met each other while on the road as solo musicians and hitch-hikers. It must have been lovely for them to meet. They lived in a caravan in the same park as we did – a huge workers’ camp at a nickel refinery under construction, where Warren and Leigh were welders on the job.

There was a folk-club in Townsville where musicians and poets gathered of a Saturday night. Larry and Jude – our newly made muso friends, were regular performers there. They invited us along. There’s an account in my memoir of my reading some of my poetry there one night. Such an experience to be among others of my kind, and to share my work.

I guess there was an amazing diversity to our lives which has made my book particularly appealing to all those who have read it. The most common comment I get is ‘I couldn’t put it down.’

I said in my last blog I was going to tell you about what has been happening in my life.

My daughter who owns Hive Barossa Cafe, and her husband Mark, have recently converted a large cellar beneath the cafe, into an amazing space where they have been holding monthly dinners that are ticketed and have been sold out each time. The event (that seats forty) features the food of a different country on each of the nights. The first was Moroccan, the next Indian and the last one Mexican. The space is decorated accordingly and authentically to create a wonderful ambience. I have made playlists for each one – four hours of traditional but light-hearted music of the particular country. The menu is created by my daughter, Marlo, and sumptuous food lovingly cooked by her wonderful chef Alesha. I have been to two of these, and can only describe them as unique, and for food lovers, something to experience. They begin at six thirty PM and by seven the room is absolutely abuzz with conversation. We sit at long tables, where acquaintance is made with people across from and alongside of us. Everyone has a story, and with a wine or two to facilitate good conversation, I just love hearing them.

As each new dish comes out, the diners pass and serve and relish the mouth-watering and beautifully presented food. The whole Hive team excel.

There is more to tell but I will endeavor to put up another blog at the end of the month as usual.

I read something the other day – of writers, and of reading – ‘I read to know you. I write to know myself.’ I agree.

Warmly,

Sue

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