Wednesday, 5 January 2011

Andrew

Last Thursday night Simon’s brother Andrew suffered a fatal asthma attack. He was only 34 years old. As his service approaches many people have made contact to offer their condolences and tell us of their intention of coming. It is becoming apparent the large number of people Andrew knew and the lasting impression he made on them.

Andrew was many things, but beige and unforgettable was not one of them. He was cheeky, impulsive, generous and loving. His largesse when it came to gifts was well known, as was his erratic cash flow. He was reckless, with a short fuse (reputed to be inherited from a particular uncle) and did not suffer fools gladly. If he called you big fella or buddy you were okay. If he was unimpressed with you, you would be left in no doubt of the fact.

He loved his Connies, shorts and cardigans and trademark retro shirts or dark bonds t-shirts. His hair, with all its crazy Diffey/Levett curls was instantly recognisable. With those genes there was no way he was ever going to have straight hair. He had the ability to look straight down the lens of the camera while other people looked in the wrong direction or squinted. He was one of those people who always took a ‘good picture’.

Simon introduced me to Andrew when we were at uni. He flirted with me briefly using his blue eyes and long lashes to great effect – at that early stage he’d been an accomplished and compulsive flirt for years. Then he turned his attention to the enormous plate of tuna sushi that he had made which we only ate a fraction of. Over the years I learned that this was the way that Andrew cooked, with lots of enthusiasm and in large quantities. He loved food and loved to cook for his family and friends. At Mudgeegong he had made his own spit to roast lamb and other beasts on and had grand plans for building a brick oven out of a dunny.

Once when he visited he made what was to become a signature dish, exohiko, a greek dish that is made from roasted lamb, vegetables and haloumi. It was delicious but also enough to feed five families. In typical Andrew style the recipe starts with the ingredients “Take three lambs…” It was catering on a grand scale and delicious of course. Andrew, never an early riser (and would give anyone who woke him an earful dressed only in boxer shorts and a look of incandescent fury) eschewed breakfast, instead saving his appetite for dinner, the main event when he would pile his plate high with food and devour it with a satisfied air, accompanied by compliments and groans of pleasure.

Whenever he visited us on holidays, instead of resting he would work on whatever needed to be done, stripping wallpaper, mowing, cleaning with gusto that was impressive and exhausting to watch. At parties he was the one always manning the barbie or playing with the kids.

To us, Andrew really came into his own as an uncle. As a brother to Simon and a brother in law to myself he was always generous and loyal. As an uncle he was awesome and I know that the relationship between Jack and his Uncle Andy was very special. Andrew loved spending time with Jack and bought him the things that every cool dude should own, the first of many pairs of converse sneakers, cool clothes and he always threatened the purchase of Jack’s first motorbike. He would spend hours playing patiently with him, building houses out of duplo or driving the tractor.

And Jack adored his Uncle Andy and loved cuddling him in spite of the ‘scratchies’ he grew when he returned to the farm. It was a game as Andrew would rub his whiskers on Jack’s face and Jack would squirm and squeal with delight.

When he was working in Sydney and Melbourne Andrew hung out for new photos of Jack and his visits to the farm were highly anticipated by both Jack and Andrew. I know that Andrew’s move to the farm brought him so much happiness being closer to his family and the farm that he loved so much.

He embraced country life with enthusiasm that was typically Andrew. Taking up welding, making new friends and acquiring a gun to eradicate rabbits, foxes and feral cats. In the last few weeks of his life he helped family friends with their harvest. At Mudgeegong he drove the tractor, nagged Noel about climbing the silo and looking after himself and worked on any number of projects, including the coolest tractor letterbox you’ve ever seen, even if it did have only three wheels.

They say that children should never predecease their parents, what a tragedy it is. And whoever they are, they happen to be right. But neither should a child be deprived of a loving Uncle like Andrew. We will all miss him.

To make a donation to the asthma foundation please go here.

Thursday, 23 December 2010

wikileaks

no, no political comments today just this funny cartoon by Cathy Wilcox...

Tuesday, 21 December 2010

Santa photo

Renee, my very talented friend (she is a fabulous photographer and has a knack for finding great furniture in dusty antique shops and Vinnies and is very entertaining) delivered some photos today. Some are from the photos that she took of Scarlett and Jack last October.
The others were Santa photos and I think they are great. She was so patient as she coerced Jack from his prone position on the floor (I don't want to go near him!) to standing in front of Santa to standing at his side. We decided that sitting on Santa's lap was not essential. No need to push our luck! And here it is. I think it's a cracker, especially compared with this one.

morning tea

Yesterday we had our last birthday morning tea for the year. I thought I'd go with something light for Jen's birthday and then I made this instead. Nigella's chocolate fudge cake. I had a small (ish) slice and needed a good liedown afterwards. Couldn't though as the library patrons tend to find this odd.

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phew!

We are celebrating Diffmas tonight and Diane asked me to bring dessert. I hope she wasn't hoping for Christmas pudding or cake (all those dead flies!) because we've gone with a gingerbread house.
Going on past experience this may seem foolish and I don't want to get ahead of myself until we actually get the house there, but I think this one is much sturdier. I hired a new engineer and used a silicone mould (or is it mold?) and it seems like a much more solid structure. But then nothing is perfect and I realised after I had iced the roof in place that I had forgotten to remove the mug that was used to stabilise the walls while they set. oops! Let's hope the roof doesn't collapse with the weight of all that chocolate. And I know that Jack is blurry - that's from all the sugar ingested doing quality control.



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ummm?

You only need to be distracted for a moment and Jack can wreak 100 kinds of havoc or just decide that maybe the furniture needed some clothes. No, I don't understand it either. Do you think it will catch on?

Wednesday, 15 December 2010

Ganma's gala concert weekend

Recently my Mum (aka Ganma) flew down for a weekend of festivities. Initially it was just for Jack's first ballet concert performance but then it turned out his preschool concert was on the night before. Dad (aka Nonno) was also due to come but was unable to because of his back surgery - ouch!
Parents were asked to bring a plate and for children to be dressed in red or green (Santa hats were supplied on the night). Due to a delay Mum missed the performances of the Wonky Donkey, The Gruffalo song and Go Santa Go by the Wiggles. Some would suggest (unfairly) that it was a lucky escape as it was not Jack's finest hour (he spent almost one whole song facing the opposite direction) but it was fun and rather gorgeous. Parents were of course madly filming (including myself) but the sound and picture quality would be enough to give David Stratton a migraine.
After the singing it was time for the food or the free for all. It was certainly like a swarm of locusts descending on a myriad of foods in rainbow hues that had nothing to do with Mother Nature. I was pleased to see that the gingerbread trees and stars that Jack and I made



were quickly demolished (by adults and kids).



Jack saw someone doing this trick with cheezels and thought it was the best idea in the world.

In the midst of the feeding frenzy Ganma arrived (her plane had been delayed) and Jack took some quick portraits.



Then Santa made an appearance but Jack could not be convinced to go anywhere near him.


As he was giving out lollies we didn't mind, seeing that Jack had already eaten half his bodyweight in sweets. We bade preschool goodnight.

The next day, due to the planets aligning or possibly Wagga being built on a floodplain I didn't have to work because work was flooded so I got to play instead. We had morning tea at Ajanta in Coolamon and then Mum and I went to the licorice factory for lunch. Jack, obviously suffering from pre-performance jitters was rather 'temperamental'. We got through the day and gathered his costume and accoutrements and made our way to the hall.
When we got there Mum and I dressed Jack and were shooed away by a woman who assured us that he would be fine (I thought that my rotor blades were tucked out of sight).

We then queued to get into the hall. And the performance? Adorable, gorgeous and funny (though whenever we tittered the people in front glared at us - they were very tut-tut). As no cameras were allowed I don't have photos but I am hoping to get the DVD and maybe with some jiggerypokery will be able to put Jack's dance on YouTube (shhh - don't tell anyone). We heard lots of people whisper "look there's a boy!" and I was pleased and worried (that I might get in trouble) when I waved at Jack and he waved back.
After a signal we snuck out (more disapproving whispering) and collected Jack. Well, we had to spring him out really. The door was locked tight and the guardian was not pleased at his and some fellow dancers early removal. I think Jack was not exactly thrilled either as he seemed to be doing a marvellous job at chatting up an older, very pretty girl (yeah, I'm going to the beach for Christmas - what are you doing?). We escaped from the glares and frowns to pick up our retro feast of spring rolls, honey prawns and chicken and cashew nuts for our post dance celebration.
Jack and Ganma, still on a high, played their favourite game which involves poking each other with a feather duster and making a ppppppwt! noise. Hours of fun to be had and now Jack has a little feather duster of his own.



On Ganma's last day we went to the Grower's Markets and then had lovely french bread with scrambled eggs from the girls. Mum still had a while before her flight but with the flood waters rising and the risk of road closure (and an extended stay in Junee) she hotfooted it to the airport.