On my walk last Sunday I called in on Pat and Leo Buckley to pick up the curry recipe (in print) that Leo gave me over the phone some time ago.
It wasn't early in the morning as I usually walk, it was about 4.00pm. This was because we stayed in Melbourne Saturday night at the Travelodge in Southgate, and came home on the Sunday afternoon, Father's day. We went out to dinner in China town after having earlier watched Adelaide v. Melbourne on the big screen at Leighoak, the MFC owned hotel in Chadstone. It was the first time we'd done that and it was a lot of fun because the crowd cheered wildly at every Melbourne goal and booed and hissed at the poor umpiring decisions that went Adelaide's way. So even though our team lost it was an enjoyable afternoon amongst similar thinking human beings. We indulged in a $43 a head banquet at the Westlakes Chinese restaurant which was wonderful we all agreed, as was the service.
Following dinner, we wandered through the streets of Melbourne past nightclubs and party boats on the Yarra. Boom, boom, boom, you could hear the beat for blocks as the young ones crowded in and seemed to actually be talking to each other, despite the ear splitting decibel levels of the music. The city was buzzing and seemed to be celebrating the arrival of warm weather, the last few days having been 23C/24C. We went to Crown Casino where Lib was determined to do some serious gambling, and Lucky Lib the birthday girl (this was a night out jointly for Lib's 50th and Father's day) finished up $150 the better from the poker machines and roullette. I didn't gamble much at all, it's not really my caper and I was so tired. The boys had a good time and it isn't often that we do things as a family these days.
After we arrived home I needed to walk and it was a good time to call on Pat and Leo, as I was supposed to have ages ago. Thinking I wasn't going to come after months had passed, Leo had put the recipe away and couldn't find it, so he went out to his studio looking while Pat made me a cup of coffee.
Leo and Pat have an interesting story which I will tell, without detail, as I don't remember it. They are of English origin. They grew up in the same village, which apparently has hardly changed in appearance in centuries, and were childhood sweethearts. Leo is an artist. He runs drawing classes in a studio behind his house. At least he used to, and I did one about ten years ago, ten two hour sessions on Tuesday evenings. I was picking flax in his garden one day and mentioned in conversation that I couldn't draw at school. He replied that everyone can draw and it went from there.
I asked him was he one of those kids at school who just seemed to be naturally brilliant at drawing like those I envied. He said yes, he always loved drawing but he stopped at school and refused to draw and didn't draw for years. He had a school master who rubbished one of his drawings and humiliated him by throwing it in the bin in front of the class.
Leo left school early and signed for a long stint in the merchant navy where he took up drawing again to fill the long hours at sea, and progressed to drawings of his shipmates who would send the drawings home to their families, and drawings of exotic places the Navy took him. On a return home he and Pat rekindled their romance and after Leo left the merchant navy they married and migrated to Australia. Leo got caught up in corporate life somehow and climbed the ladder, with stress crushing him as the years went by. One day at a business meeting he had a burning, exploding sensation deep in his throat, and an eruption of blood and mucous spewed from his mouth as he collapsed and was rushed to the emergency ward.
It may not have been related to his collapse, I can't remember, but it turned out they found he had a bad type of oesophagus cancer and was given only a short time to live. He chose to have radical treatment which was not expected to save him, and here he is a couple of decades later going to markets, drawing caricatures and bookmarks, and selling streetscapes to tourists or anyone interested.
While convalescing, Leo wrote a book to teach people to draw, which gave him a new purpose in life and was important in his recovery. He began attending markets, with Pat helping, as soon as he was well enough, to generate income.
While Leo was in his studio printing me another recipe from his computer, Pat made a cup of coffee and we stood at the wide kitchen window looking out over the valley, the view which they fell in love with and made them say to the agent that yes, they would buy this house, before they had even been inside. It's a timber cottage with high ceilings and Pat and Leo have made it cosy and homely. In front of the kitchen window a large bird feeder about 8 feet long hangs from two chains and I said to Pat that I see many birds about here when I walk in the mornings so we discussed king parrots, rosellas, cockatoos, currawongs, ravens, magpies and the grey shrike-thrush I have seen regularly lately. Pat said it comes every morning to her feeder and she calls him 'the butler' because of his grey chest and darker wings, tail and head, like a formal suit. I said to Pat that I had become familiar with 'the butler's call and when I imitate it sings back to me. Pat also loves its song and we whistled it to each other and laughed. It's 3 or 4 short notes of the same pitch then a higher double note which finishes trailing off and then stopps abruptly. Between the grey thrush at the end of Quinn Rd. and the hooting of an owl at the start, which I think is a tawny frogmouth (sounds like the noise you get if you blow into the neck of a bottle) the morning walks have been exciting, not forgetting also the wattle blossom dropping off the blackwattles and lining the verge of the road. The wind made by cars as they whoosh along blows the blossom from the bitumen road and it collects on the gravel edge where the grass starts, creating a yellow squiggly line between the dark road and the bright green spring grass. It reminded me of foam on a beach where the water and sand meet, (and that Lib starts 3 weeks holiday soon and with a bit of luck I'll be walking on the beach at Lakes Entrance soon). While the black wattles are nearing the end of their flowering, the blackwoods (also wattles) are in full flower and although a paler yellow, are pretty nonetheless. And the oaks are shooting and some elms flowering.
Leo came back with the curry recipe and another one for chicken satay and we talked more about birds and food. It was a good way to round off the 'different' weekend we'd had and freshen up for the week ahead.
P.S. Leo's class showed me that I can draw after all. I enjoyed it, but I confess I haven't drawn one thing in all the years since. One day though I just might sit down with pencil and paper and have a go again. I'd like to draw trees.
