Let's Have a Good One

Young Scott came two days before Xmas and took out the Cedar Wattle. He and his mate were superb. When I left for the second time at 2.30pm, they were still at it, after arriving at 7.15am. Not a shrub underneath was damaged, which showed the care they'd taken. I have no hesitation in recommending them. (Scott Purton, Green Care Tree Service, 0407 099 249)

We left for Wangaratta about noon on Christmas Day. I was so looking forward to driving over the Bonnie Doon bridge and seeing water below in Eildon Weir which had filled to 75% capacity. Alas we were detoured at Yarck because of a fatal accident in the morning, going via Euroa instead.

I had some consolation on Boxing Day. I met my old mate Dave Suters at the Hume Weir which is 100% full. I hadn't seen Dave for 15 years or thereabouts. We met at the appointed place, and each thought the other was late when in fact we'd walked past and looked at each other a couple of times without realizing we were us. Such is the cruelty of aging. We both were looking for a younger man. It wasn't until Dave's wife Pam arrived and looked at me that the penny dropped for us at the same time. It was great to see them.We had lunch at an Albury club. I met Dave at the Qld Ag College in 1974. We became close friends, our contact dropping off only in recent years. It's satisfying this has been corrected.

I was on my own having left Lib and the boys with Molly and Lib's sister's family as I was absorbed by nostalgia on the drive south back to Wang. I visited the Wang cemetery to give my respects to Kel, who died late in 2008. Two other team mates from the Greta Football team of 1980 are also there. 'Brains' was killed in a car accident in 1983 and ditto 'Swampy' in 1988. It took me a long time to find their graves and also Fred Sargent's and Lib's dad Bill's plaque.

I came across someone I can't recall thinking of for over 30 years. When I first moved to Wang in 1976, I rented a flat in Oven's St. It was a house divided into two flats, the other flat occupied by an attractive young girl by the name of Karen. We shared a clothesline in the back yard but I rarely saw her to talk to. She had a tumultuous relationship with a boyfriend who called regularly. Between the flats at one point there was a non opening door separating the two, I could hear their noisy lovemaking, arguments, and often yell and scream, bang and crash fighting. It was a bit of a worry but I must admit it was entertaining. I can't remember the details but I did have a minor altercation one time with the boyfriend which was verbal involving no fisticuffs, but violence was threatened which I took pains to avoid while at the same time not backing down.

I had to leave that flat. The motel that owned the building changed hands and the new owners wanted it for their relatives. A couple of years later after a couple moves I was in a flat in Green St. near the hospital, in a block of about a dozen flats, mine being one from the rear end on the second floor. One night I was comfortably minding my business when there was a frantic banging on my door, accompanied by a woman's voice yelling for help. She was almost hysterical when I opened the door, gibbering that a man was threatening to kill her girlfriend and was cutting up all her clothing.

I think I told her to use my phone to ring the police and went to the flat full of nervous apprehension but acting on adrenalin. I barged in and was in his face in the bedroom in a flash with as much authority and bluster that I could manage. It was the girl Karen's flat and the enraged bloke ransacking it was the same boyfriend of two years previous. He looked at me with surprise he was being confronted, briefly arguing absurdly, but thankfully ceased his activity and went to the door with me right on his hammer telling him the police would be arriving shortly. Once outside on his way down the stairs he turned and abused me saying he'd get me.

I moved to a farmhouse at Moyhu shortly after. Over the next couple of years when playing football for Greta he was in the opposition Nth Wangaratta team when we played them. He showed me no recognition let alone aggression or attempt to 'get me'. There I was on Boxing Day paying a visit to my old footy mates and there he was, right in front of me, on a headstone. It bore his name of course and had a photo of him. Born 1956, died 2007, husband of Karen and father to four daughters. Who knows what happened between 1978 and 2007, besides the bald facts on the headstone. I don't like to jump to conclusions but age 51 is an early death and leaves me wondering.  I suppose his and Karen's life together had its share of joy and pain, as does everyone's. I'm tempted to find Karen who is probably still in Wang and easily findable, but no I'll let it rest.

Best wishes to my friends for 2011. After a few days at Lakes Entrance I'm back well rested and ready for a year of challenge and achievement. There's much to do.