Tag Archives: Fathers’ Day

Weekend Coffee Share- Happy Father’s Day 2018!

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share!

Don’t you just love how special days automatically assume you’re having a great day and that you’re all happy, happy, joy, joy! Happy Father’s Day! Happy Mother’s Day! Happy Birthday!

What if you don’t feel like being happy? What if you’re feeling grumpy or even downright miserable? Are you supposed to paint your clown face over the scars and forget your candle’s already gone out? Perhaps, we should just take “happy” out of the equation and simply wish people: “Father’s Day”, “Mother’s Day”, “Birthday”. Perhaps, by not expecting happiness (or at the very least a day without any fights or squabbles), we’d be better prepared to deal with any disappointment. Yet, isn’t that also defeat? Don’t we want to be happy?

Perhaps, we’ll all feel happier after a few celebratory Dad jokes:

  • I’ll never date another apostrophe…The last one was too possessive.
  • I gave all my dead batteries away today… Free of charge
  • I dreamed about drowning in an ocean made out of orange soda last night…It took me a while to work out it was just a Fanta sea.

Well, that’s enough philosophizing. Special days always get me thinking and it’s a time where most of us pause and reflect to some extent…or have someone else’s philosophizing thrust on us. What does it mean to be a good Dad? How do we show our Dad how much we love and appreciate him? Then, there are those who have lost their Dad, perhaps even prematurely. Or, don’t have contact with Dad.

My husband’s father passed away almost 35 years ago when Geoff was only 16 years old, and it wasn’t long after Father’s Day. Indeed, driving home from my parents’ place tonight, Geoff said that my Dad’s been his father-in-law longer than he had his own father. While it’s great that he has my Dad, it does feel like he was short-changed. His mother died in 2000 the year we met, but she was 73 which wasn’t unreasonable. So, my Mum as well as Geoff’s sister and her husband have helped fill these shoes.

Our Father’s Day was fairly low-key. We went to Church this morning as a family and drove down to Sydney for lunch with my parents and brother. You might recall that my parents celebrated their 50th Wedding Anniversary a few weeks ago. Well, they’d been given a lot of chocolate, and as tough as it might’ve been, we had to help them eat it.

I’m not sure whether you have heard that Australia has just acquired our 6th Prime Minister in 11 years. Just over a week ago, Prime Minister Malcolm Turnbull was ousted by his own party and all that is despicable and ugly in politics both on the stage and behind the scenes reveal itself in all its lurid glory. I didn’t have much faith left before but anarchy is looking good atm. Whoops! I think that’s what we’ve already got. I wonder who’ll be wearing the monkey suit next week?

Last week, was fairly quiet as I’ve been recovering from last weekend’s gastro bug. It really sapped the life out of me. So, there’s been no dancing on the tables from me.

Rowena Lizottes

Posing after our violin performance 2012. Lizotte’s is a rock n’ roll venue where the likes of Diesel have performed…and me! The music school hired the venue for our concert.

However, I wrote a short story called: “The Violinist” which was based when I sat for my Preliminary Violin exam and almost blew a gasket stressing out about getting an A and about doing the exam at all. I’d only taken the violin up to help my daughter, but then she quit and left me to finish off the term’s lessons and I have no idea how one term lead to another except that I did play at the end of year concert in a violin ensemble. I think that’s what really clinched it for me and my teacher must’ve been a very positive force to counter-balance what really was a rather cantankerous and difficult violin. I haven’t posted it here, because I have plans.

This week, I also participated in Thursday Doors.  hosted by Norm 2.0. This week, we visited the miniature village of Lower Crackpot, located in Tazmazia in NW Tasmania. These doors were so cute and pretty witty as well. Not surprisingly, the village has quite a satirical element. If you’re feeling like a bit of a laugh, please Click here

I also took part in Friday Fictioneers. This week’s effort seemed a bit far-fetched at first but then I remembered that three Japanese tourists had tried driving from Redland Bay to Stradbroke Island thanks to Google maps, and decided Panoramic Pete might not have been so hard to believe after all. You’ve have to read it to form your own opinion: When the Mirror Cracked…

Well, that’s enough from me. What have you been up to during the last week? I’d love to catch up.

This has been another contribution to the Weekend Coffee Share hosted by Ecclectic Ali. We’d love you to come and join us.

Best wishes,

Rowena

PS: Happy Father’s Day

 

Our Father’s Day!

Happy Fathers’ Day!

While I’m tempted to philosophise about what it means to be a Dad, I think I’d better stick with what I know and focus on what it means to be a daughter and my observations of my husband. Of course, it’s very easy to hop up on the soap box when I’m in my own blog bubble on my laptop and my husband’s watching a very strange movie, Tropic Thunder, which seems worse than any Dad joke. However, even now, there’ s that caution and thank goodness for that.

Unfortunately, I didn’t see my Dad for Father’s Day today, and by the time we managed to call, he was already in bed. We’ve put our celebrations off until we’re all feeling better. However, Mum said that he was up early to play golf this morning and quite frankly Fathers’ Day should also be about Dad doing what he wants to do, because even though my Dad’s retired, he still has responsibilities.

“To a father growing old nothing is dearer than a daughter.”

Euripides

My Dad has always been my rock… stable, reliable, always there for me. Most of my life, I’ve been anything but a rock…the social butterfly, the panic merchant, the deep thinker who could easily fly off the deep end. Whenever life got tough and I’d start to complain, Dad would tell me “this’ll put hairs on your chest” or he’d quote our then Prime Minister, Malcolm Fraser: “Life isn’t meant to be easy”. We had a family whistle, which I later found out Dad had inherited from his own father. If we were lost, he’d whistle out to us and it was such a relief. I also remember being small and looking right up over the top of the crowd to find Dad. Not quite a tall as Roald Dahl or the BFG, Dad was noticeably taller in a crowd. Speaking of being tall, Dad also looked like John Cleese back in the day and I didn’t understand why people made such a joke of the Nudge ad on TV: “Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more”. Dad buried my dead goldfish and the dead tadpoles because I was too scared to go near them and how he encouraged me to drive out of my comfort zone. Whenever I was nervous about driving somewhere, he’d ask me if my licence prevented me from going there. Obviously not, so there was no reason I couldn’t do it. I also remember being terrified when notorious criminal William John Mundy escaped from gaol. I clearly remember checking the windows and being absolutely terrified and Dad said he’d protect me. I felt so safe. Dad was invincible. Back then, I really could believe father knew best and Dad was only a very small still away from being Superman.

Rowena & Geoff

I don’t know why we have to grow up. Or, at least go through that whole process where we realize our parents aren’t perfect and tend to focus on the gap, instead of being grateful for the abundance we have and the enormous, immeasurable sacrifices they’ve made.

Now, that I’m a parent even if I’m not a Dad, I can appreciate the enormity of the task. That being there 24/7 x 18 if not a lifetime is beyond huge. Of course, there’s love. Such love and delight in our kids, but so much worry, concern and just wanting to ease their path, understand who they are and try to see the world through their eyes instead of our own.

So, I’d like to thank my Dad for that. I’d like to thank my Dad for still being there for me and our family. Both Mum and Dad have helped us extensively through a very intense time with my health, especially when the kids were small and I was hospitalized for seven weeks. I still remember Dad’s reassurances at the start, and how they were running out of oomph by the end…”you coming home any time soon?” Having a 3.5 and 18 month year old left on your doorstep for so long without warning is just the sort of thing which “puts hair on your chest”. After all, it no matter how much we might love our little people, the heart might be willing, but the body can struggle to keep pace. My Mum and Dad have been truly amazing.

Rowena & Papa 1969

Look at those little eyes looking up at my grandfather for the very first time…you can feel the love between us. 

Fathers’ Day is not just an opportunity for me to remember my own Dad, but also my grandfathers. My Dad’s Dad was a real character…a dentist who used to buy soft drink by the crate every weekend (large family) and used to give us horsey bites under the dining room table in such a way that you’d bang your knee. He also did the coin behind the ear trick. I remember my grandparents travelling and my grandfather bringing me back a very stately-looking English dress which he’s bought on Bond Street, an apron from Amsterdam, Denis the Menace in French from Paris and even a giving me a precious taste of some dark chocolate he’d brought back from Italy. I also remember the last time I saw my grandfather before he died of cancer. He took his oxygen mask off, even though he was having a coughing fit, because he didn’t want to scare us. He held my hand and told me the importance of hands. He’d worked as a dentist and my grandmother was a concert pianist so hands had been very important to them. They had worked with their hands. Expressed themselves.

DSC_6352

I don’t remember anything about my grandfather’s father, known as “Pop”. Not unsurprisingly, he died before my time. However, Dad has a funny story about when he went away with pop to visit his aunt inter-state. Well, Pop handed my Dad a hip flask of Scotch. Dad was about 7 years old and he’s pretty sure Pop asked him to drink it. Well, later on, Pop asked Dad for it back. Apparently, he’d asked Dad to mind it and we get the feeling he was hiding his stash from Gran. He wasn’t very impressed when Dad had tried the stuff. Indeed, although he hated the taste and it would’ve been pretty rough for a young kid, he thought he’d better do his best. I found out in recent years, that Pop had lost his eye in a childhood accident in the family foundry and stove-making business. I admire his tenacity, because most of the family didn’t know about it. He ust got on with it.

Father’s Day is rather mixed for my husband. While he’s been celebrating being a Dad himself for the last 13 years, his own father passed away when Geoff was 16 so many years ago now and his funeral was a week before Father’s Day. That’s like a double-dose of tough but then shifting gears and celebrating the present. Well, to be honest, parenting is more about ups and downs and loving your kids through the entire spectrum of experience.

DSC_6349

Our son courageously cooking bacon this morning and dodging spitting fat. 

Anyway, our Father’s Day began with bacon and eggs. Our son has become quite the bacon cook around here and our daughter made the eggs. I made the coffee. Then, we were off to Church where they’d set up a photo booth in front of a vintage black Mercedes and we had our photos taken. They also provided meat pies for the dad…and the kids. Yet, they still felt hungry enough to have pancakes for lunch back home. I was an egg short and added a good shake of custard powder to produce some rather yellow-looking pancakes, which thankfully passed muster. My family is very fussy.

After lunch, the day went down hill…rapidly.

In a moment of deluded madness, I’d booked the carpet cleaner in for tomorrow…and the window cleaner as well. We’ve never had our carpets or windows professionally cleaned before, but I can get it as part of my disability support package. There was just a slight problem of finding the carpet in certain areas of the loungeroom and also needing to move furniture. Indeed, you could say that we’ve moved mountains this afternoon. So, much for Geoff relaxing on Father’s Day!! He was doing a lot of moving, shaking and sweeping.

I guess you could call that a father’s day.

Did you celebrate Fathers’ Day today? What did you get up to? Please share in the comments below.

xx Rowena

Fathers’ Day Coffee Share.

Welcome to another Weekend Coffee Share. It’s Father’s Day here in Australia and we’re heading off on a river cruise with Scouts and then off to see my parents afterwards. So, my apologies. Today, we’re going to drink and run, although I’ll give you some Mars Bar Slice for the road.

How was your week? I hope you’ve had a great one.

I’ve had a fairly quiet week recovering from the excitement and planning of my daughter’s school performance at the Sydney Opera House.

I finished reading Maya Angelou’s Now I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, which I absolutely loved. I found so much in that book and felt myself melt into her words as if she was sharing her story over a coffee. I’ll be coming back to this book because a paragraph here simply does it justice. At the same time, however, I’ll mention that I’m Australian and I only came across her a few months ago. That almost feels like a crime. This book should be part of everybody’s basic, essential education if we are ever going to break down the barriers between us.

As far as my writing’s been concerned, I’ve written a few posts about living with an elderly dog and thinking about the next dog…how and when to make that decision.

bilbo & Lady friends

Bilbo and Lady.

Quite frankly, I thought we’d crossed that bridge two years ago when we adopted our second dog, Lady. Bilbo wasn’t looking well and he was 8 at the time and I thought we’d timed it pretty well.

Thankfully, and trust me I’m not complaining, Lady’s arrival gave Bilbo a second wind and he lost weight, gained fitness and confidence and now bounds along the beach chasing his ball, almost like a pup. Meanwhile, Lady’s proven that she’s not going to make it as a single dog so we’re back where we started except that we can now add a grieving dog to the mix when Bilbo passes. Not that I’m trying to rush things but the kids start talking about another dog and you know how it is. So, if you’re a dog person, you can catch up on: The Hypothetical Dog

Queens-Corgis

One hypothetical dog we thought warranted a bit of research was the Corgi. We spotted one while we were in Woy Woy the other day (a place made popular by comedian Spike Milligan) and while I see them more as the Queen’s dogs and a dubious choice for a Republican, the rest of the family was pretty keen. So, being my usual writer self, I had to write yet again about another what if in The Corgi Republican.

In addition to writing about dogs this week, I also finally made it back to Carrot Ranch and wrote another flash this week: Returning to Chernobyl.

tyger

Lastly, I wrote about English poet William Blake has influenced me as a poet:William Blake: Birthing of a Poet.

I hope you had a great week and that if you are celebrating Fathers’ Day or finding it difficult, that it is a good day.

This has been part of the Weekend Coffee Share hosted by Diana at Part-Time Monster. You can click the linky  to read the other posts.

Take care & Best wishes,

Rowena

Happy Father’s Day, Geoff!

Just because you’re standing there with a fishing rod, doesn’t mean you catch any fish…much to Geoff’s relief. Fishing isn’t what you’d call his “thing” but he was on an overnight camp with the kids at Scouts. Had a great time while I stayed at home and ordered a pizza swarming with anchovies!

Happy Fathers’ Day to all Dads.

Love,

Rowena