Camping Cousins, April 11, 2011

Before the last visitors (Family Fly-by-Nighters) had even cleared the horizon my favourite cousin's wagon train had hauled into view.  With wife, two children, mother-in-law and piano, yes, I say it again, PIANO! MFC had made the long, winding trip over the mountains from Oklahoma, I mean Hornsby.

Where do I start with how fantastic these visitors are.  For starters, they don't actually stay.  MFC has a train carriage on a large block of land at the back of my place.  Secondly, they do great fires, great dinners, great company, great intellectual chat and great drinking of vino around said fire.  And if all mothers-in-law were this lovely and interesting more people would probably be married.

MFC's partner is - like MFC - an ambulance officer.  The AO regaled us with tales of death and rescue, mainly involving children and swimming pools.  I was stunned to be told that 1 child drowns every week in an Australian swimming pool. Understandably the AO is so perturbed about this that she has very definite ideas about the dangers of (a) having a swimming pool, (b) keeping it fenced (fences are just as bad in some cases because they increase complacency and (c) poor supervision.  Mind you, as I listened to these very well-put arguments, the two kids are wandering around the large bonfire in the dark tripping over sticks and being blinded by smoke and grabbing for the tale of The Dog, who - as has been explained before here - gets a little snappy with proximity issues.  The AO didn't seem as concerned about Death by Fire, Dog or Sticks so much as Death By Pool.  Which is fair enough if you've spent the last 6 months vainly trying to save drowned kids.

But to top off their list of fabulous attributes... they bequethed me the piano!

Now, this is a lendy not a keepy.  In the Cattle Baroness's family certain terms have a provenance that gives them legal status.  Lendy-Not-A-Keepy means at any time the original owner can reinstate his or her ownership of said item and remove it.  Although the effort getting it off the trailer and into its current position suggests MFC isn't going to be in a hurry to haul it out again.

So as the wagon train headed back east two nights later, The Dog and I were left sadly contemplating the blackened coals of the dead fire...

... and happily practising Pachelbel's Canon in D.

the new piano!

The next visit of MFC, the AO and their entourage is eagerly anticipated.  If 'cousins' are rated in the 'family' section these guys could give the Fly-By-Nighters a run for their money.

Family Fly-By-Nighters April 10, 2011

The Sister (aka The Stylist) and the Brother-in-law (aka The Builder Philosopher) zoomed through late on Thursday night on their way to a wedding in Bourke.  On their Sunday return it was The Stylist's birthday and we intended to celebrate it in child-free style (The Nephew having been shipped off to an alternate grandparent for the weekend). 

This was the plan: Picking olives at The Parents' house in the sunny Autumn afternoon.  Dappled leaves, warm sun, the tree overhanging with olives...

This was the reality: Freezing cold rain, muddy slopes, a slippery ladder, wet branches springing out of reach and, in my case, a lengthy slide in the mud.

At least the hot showers afterwards were fantastic!  As was the dinner.  Home-grown lamb with jacket potatoes and pumpkin and chickpea salad (much yummier than it sounds) followed by pannacotta with home-grown stewed apple (the 2 apples from my year-old apple tree).

We had a lovely night of music and chat.  However, while it was delightful to have adult time with The Stylist and The Builder Philosopher without distracting interruptions from The Nephew, his absence did deprive me of my life's greatest joy:  Telling Parents What They're Doing Wrong.

As all my childless* friends will know, it is one of life's great ironies that those without children are far more qualified to parent than those who are actual parents.  Without all our time being clogged up with nappy changing and time-outs, we have time to do all the things necessary to actually be a parent.  Like watching ten years of Dr Phil.  Not to mention the 4 years of Psychology that concentrated mainly on child development and rats.  And really, what is the difference between a rat and an 8-year old?  It's all reward schedules and behavioural shaping as far as I can see.  Parents keep telling anyone who'll listen how exhausted, sleep-deprived and poor they are.  You wouldn't let them operate a chainsaw but they're allowed to control (often multiple) small humans in hazardous situations (like shopping centre carparks).

Clearly if you look at any human being under 18 and ask who are the two people on the planet with the least information about them, the fewest qualifications regarding their operation and the least energy to do anything about it... yep, their parents.

And the most informed, qualified, energetic and interested... their favourite aunt!  Who owns cattle.  And a dog.  If you can get 1000 kilos of heaving animal to enthusiastically embrace the delights of a less enticing paddock, you can get a kid to eat breakfast.

Though I'm still puzzled as to why my excellent and constant advice is not met with more grateful appreciation by the parents involved...

Anyhow, in the absence of The Nephew, The Stylist had time to plant her birthday present.

It is a truth not universally acknowledged that a Cattle Baroness in possession of a tree-less front yard must be in want of a windbreak.  What better way to acheive this than to present those celebrating milestones (birthdays, anniversaries, visitors, just people driving by) with a small tree, a plot and a spade. 

Much digging, mulching, planting, wartering and tree-guarding later I (I mean they) have their very own tree.

Everyone's a winner.

The Stylist and her Birthday Eucalypt

And with prizes for Stoic Olive-Picking, Intellectual Dinner Chat, Excellent Musicianship, Tree Planting Despite Discouraging Conditions and Leaving The Nephling at Home, The Stylist and The Builder Philosopher are so far leaders of the pack in the Best Guest 2011 - Family Section.

* There has to be a more appropriate term than 'Childless', which implies something lacking.  Instead of something '-less' maybe something '-more'.  Time-More people.  Money-More people.  Those Whose Taxes Subsidise The Kids of Others.  Or maybe just ... Readers.