The Wayward Daughter in Australia (No, it's not Me! How very dare you?)

Monday  September 8^th.

Oh No, gloom and despondency sits over the house hold, the Dockers were beaten by Sydney Swans over the weekend, while we were off whooping it up among phallus shaped rocks in Cervantes. It is so different to last year, when Fremantle cruised to the final of the play-offs. They get port Adelaide next, whom we have beaten already at home, maybe there is a little hope left.

Jeff seems to have been the most affected by the loss, but then he is a junior player and sort of lives and breathes AFL. The rest of us (OK, maybe not Pete) just like watching those hunky men beat seven shades of crap out of each other under the guise of sport! LOL

We swam again at Aqua Jetty and then, after breakfast and child taxi service we actually cycled over to Baldivis and Uncle Alex’s place. He invited us over earlier on and we accepted the day offer. He ferried us and our bikes back to Warnbro in his ute in the evening. He also said that if we wanted to we could go riding, so bring suitable clothes. We cycled in jeans but had our frocks in the panniers.

I am not a huge fan of riding, but Aunt Chris is a dab hand. She found us two of the most docile of their mares and all four of us went for a ride out into the flat land of the West Australian coastal plain. We pitched up at a nature reserve type place where there were barbeques, and there we cooked lunch. I was surprised to find that they had one of their 4x4s at the site already packed with the stuff for a barbie, and one of their drivers (I assume) on hand to help get us set up and take back all the detritus afterwards.

Jesus, my bum was numb when we got down. I can see this may be fun but phew, I sure could have used more padding on my saddle. Laura whispered to me that she had found the pommel on the saddle rubbed against her little love bump if she sat in a certain way. So although her bum was numb too, she had actually been getting off as she rode along! I said I would try it on our way back.

Instead of just the ubiquitous steak we also had amazing kebabs prepared for our meal. These were delicious. You can get a bit fed up of just steak on your barbie out here! There was a huge bowl of salad and several bottles of Houghton wine, Alex’s favourite. In the esky they had even brought my favourite dessert: lemon meringue pie. Yummy in our tummy!

We lazed around for quite a while after the meal and chatted about all sorts of stuff. I could tell they found Laura even more enchanting on closer contact than our brief meeting at the Perth Concert Hall had allowed. We talked about our classical music season back home, which is due to start almost as soon as we get back. Laura was quizzed about her intentions, post-graduation, and she said she was looking at the possibility of doing an MA if offers of work were not forth coming. Her tutor is very keen for her to go on to a Masters’ but I think the cost is an important factor in her reticence. I have helped with her fees for the BSc but I am pretty sure she will baulk at the thought of me offering to help with an MA. (It’s a pride thing.)

We managed the ride back after our barbeque without mishap. (Or in my case the ability to use the pommel on my saddle to rub against my love bump. How did she manage it?) Back in Baldivis we were offered the use of the shower room to freshen up, which we jumped at with alacrity and then changed into our glad rags for our later meal. I had brought my tablet with me, so at about 4pm I Skyped Dad and had the conversation hijacked by my uncle who wanted to chat with his older brother. They gossiped on like a pair of old women for over an hour. The upshot of which is Dad and Louisa are going to fly out for Christmas and stay with Alex and Chris in Baldivis, this is quite unusual. He normally uses Gran’s flat in South Perth, which is still owned by Dad (part of the inheritance) as his base when he comes over. I think they may be staying with A & C for just a few days really. It will mean a certain tallish blonde daughter will probably be called upon to house and dog sit over the Christmas Holidays.

Dad thought my news about teaching was long overdue, he imagined that the fuss caused by Andrea dropping out as lead researcher just before the project started last September may have been what caused them to drop the ball. He thinks I will be a wow when in front of a pile of undergraduates. He does think highly of my abilities, ever since I was little. In the past I wasn’t sure whether it wasn’t just a typical Father’s pride in his offspring’s achievements but I have come to realise he actually does mean what he says – unusual for him as he normally makes a joke about everything.

This talk lead Chris to ask what he meant and I had to explain how, when I left last year, the proffered teaching appointment I had mentioned, along with my RA job hadn’t materialised but now they seemed to have had a change of heart. I said that I wasn’t going to enumerate the flightless fowl until I was actually in a room with faces waiting for me to impart my pearls of wisdom.

The rest of my immediate family arrived at about 6pm (having driven over in Pete’s bus). Our meal was pretty enjoyable. It was fish tonight, as we had eaten meat at lunchtime, and we managed to get some White Fuchsia instead of the Houghton which Alex favours. There were just the Jay Sisters, their partners and children dining, as the rest of A & C’s family were off doing un-named important things. We talked about La Fille mal Gardee and A & C were surprised to hear we had seen it only a few months ago in Sheffield and were looking forward to see how the choreography down under would differ from the one we’d seen. The girls were really excited too. Jeff muttered about it was boring and ballet dancers were wusses. I reminded him how in the version we’d seen one of the dances lifted the lead girl (Lise) up into the air and then balanced her on the palm of his outstretched hand. He snorted but Laura said she had seen it too and was completely amazed, in fact the audience had done a collective gasp at such a move. He reluctantly admitted that they may be strong but that didn’t stop ballet from being ‘gay’.

I was surprised by the vehemence with which Alex rounded on his nephew for that statement. It wasn’t loud or angry but you could tell he was deeply offended by the remark and the attitude behind it. He even told Jeff that he needed to think on this: if he ever gave an opinion of that sort again, when he was his guest, he would be considered persona non grata at this house. Jeff had the grace to say he was sorry and he hadn’t meant to be offensive. Fortunately this was done in such a low key and quiet manner I don’t think the atmosphere was spoiled in anyway and we soon were laughing and joking again.

Owing to the fact Pete had brought the bus, we didn’t need to pile our bikes into the back of Alex’s ute, they fitted into the i800 quite well. As we drove back home I could see Suze was itching to have a go at Jeff but she restrained herself. I bet there was something said in the privacy of his room, though. Laura thought he was just being a typical prepubescent boy and I guess she is right.

Tuesday September 9^th.

Swam at Aqua Jetty, then breakfasted and ran the kids to school. We drove on into Fremantle and had a wander around the old quarter of the town and the Roundhouse. The market is only open at the weekend but the food court is open all week, so we lunched there and had more sightseeing (including driving up to Bicton, to show Laura Suze and Pete’s old house).

From there we went down to the River and walked along the waterfront for a while and I asked Laura if she fancied a Swan River Cruise. She did, so we headed back into Freo and booked tickets for their day cruise tomorrow. We booked for the 9.45am cruise which includes wine tasting. It leaves from Barrack Street in Perth so we decided we would catch the train into the city.

Back home we managed to get to school just a chucking out time and then the girls prepped dinner which I cooked at about 6pm (Suze was on a shift and a half today) whilst the kids were doing their homework – I assumed.

A fairly quiet day really, which was good, as my bum was a bit sore after the riding yesterday. I guess when you don’t do it much your bottom doesn’t take too kindly to being abused in that way. The bike riding may have hardened our buttocks up a little but nothing like what is required for being on a horsey.

We had a quiet evening in watching the second Star Trek film (the Benedict Cumberbatch one). The story line seemed familiar. Maybe I have seen it before but can’t recall it? Suze and Pete are getting a projector so they can watch DVDs etc on a wall wide screen which sounds an interesting idea. The main lounge would be ideal, especially as the walls are smooth and currently painted white anyway. They will not be getting it until nearer Christmas so we won’t be able to see what it is like, rats.

It was an early night for the blondes tonight as we were expecting to have a busy Wednesday.

Wednesday September 10^th

Up with the larks again for our Aqua Jetty routine but after breakfast we were taken to the station well before the kids were dropped at school. We wanted to make sure we got into Perth centre in plenty of time for the Swan Cruise from Barrack Street Jetty. We caught the 8.25 from Warnbro getting us in at just past 9 am. Some wag had added graffiti to one of the Barrack Street signs, including the word Obama after Barrack. (Well, I thought it was funny…)

The wine cruise was the same one Mum and I did last year so I was able to explain to Laura what would happen before we departed. The film about wines was the same and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the cruise commentary was also the same as we sailed sedately up river and had the notable sights described to us as we passed them. Lunch, at the Estate, was a different menu selection and the types of wine we sampled were slightly different too. We both fell in love with the Sandalford Elements Late Harvest, though, just like I did last year.

The buffet desserts on the cruise back down river were delicious (as I had told Loll they would be) and I am afraid to admit we made little piggies of ourselves, having two each! Unlike last year there weren’t two tipsy women getting back on the train at Esplanade Station and we didn’t cause the whole carriage (or so it seemed at the time) to have the giggles as we headed south. We were picked up from Warnbro Station this time rather than us walking back to Suze and Pete’s and on the way we stopped at the bottle shop opposite the school to get some Sandalford wine to have with our meal.

Our planned late night intimacy was curtailed by the fact Mother Nature called during our wine cruise, I was so looking forward to having sex with Laura when we got back. She very unselfishly said that she wasn’t on, so that wouldn’t prevent me for using and abusing her body if I wanted. At about one am that is exactly what I did. We had major giggles when we thought about how we’d found there were no tampons in the house at all last month; we now have enough to use as ammunition in a tampon war! The down side of this is the fact we might both be on whilst flying back home. It’s not a problem but it has put paid to our plans for joining the mile high club. I licked and fondled her love bump for a while and she came almost as soon as I had started. She then gave me a vigorous rubbing which had the same effect. Unfortunately I also leaked a bit, which meant we had to get up and change the sheet on the bed.

I sneaked it down to the laundry and set the machine going on the quiet cycle. Luckily the laundry is nowhere near any of the bedrooms. I bumped into Suze as I was coming out and obvious she asked what was happening. I explained why and she was surprised I had leaked. I confessed that it was while Laura and I were being intimate (I don’t keep secrets from my sister) and she giggled at the thought. She also said I was lucky as Pete avoided her as though she was seriously infectious whenever she was on. I told her that was normal for men; most of the guys I had dated found the whole idea of periods somewhat distasteful and were never mentioned. She was out and about because she thought she’d heard something and had come to investigate. That something was me in the laundry. She also told me that both Jill and Annabelle had wanted to try tampons the next time they had their periods thanks to my influence last month. She made it sound as though it was something terrible.

“I’ve loved having you and Laura here. I was a bit concerned at first about the lesbian thing but once you meet her and see just how much the two of you are in love, the fact that you are both women seems to disappear. If you know what I mean? She is just so nice, too.”

I told her I was grateful for the vote of confidence in my ability to select a partner at which I got slapped on the arm for being a sarcastic cow. “Do you know, you are so like Dad when you do that?”

I asked, “Do what?”  She told me that I make a joke about stuff to paper over awkward moments, just like he does (or used to, she wasn’t sure). I confirmed the fact that he still did it and that Mum tells me the same thing from time to time as well. I asked her if it was a bad thing.

“No, it’s really sweet when you do it, as you sort of laugh at yourself while you are doing so whereas Dad seems to be more devious when he does it. I am not explaining very well but you get what I mean, don’t you?”

I nodded. I didn’t really but in a way I did. If that isn’t a total contradiction?

Thursday 11^th September.

La Fille Mal Gardee.

Laura and I saw this in Sheffield (at the Lyceum) earlier in the year and were stunned by it. We just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see a different version, with different choreography out here in Australia. The girls and Suze jumped at the chance, too.

We did the usual day routine stuff: swimming at Aqua Jetty; dropping the kids off at school; prepping the evening meal (home-made burgers and parsnip chips) and then having a stroll out at Point Peron. We collected the kids and when we got back Suze was busy cooking the meal. We wanted an early one as we were going on the Mandurah Line into Perth for tonight’s slice of culture. The train drops you pretty close to His Majesty’s Theatre, which is an old, white painted colonial looking building on the corner of Hay Street and King Street. The train gets you in at just after half past six, so we had plenty of time to saunter out of the station, wander down Murray and onto Hay before decamping into the theatre and hitting the bar. The girls were used to the idea of interval drinks and had got the form partially filled in before we had even ordered a drink for now!

Suze was sort of amused by this and a little peeved sounding, as I had done more ‘cultural’ things with her girls than she had since moving here at the start of the new milliennium. She was even surprised that they knew the train system better than she did!

The show, we were delighted by the whole thing once again. The two leads were excellent (despite no palm of the hand balance) and of course Widow Simone’s (Craig Lord-Sole) clog dance was the highlight once again. It always is. The designer had gone for a sort of 1950’s South of France theme in the set and costumes, which worked quite well although the dresses were a bit cumbersome at times. I liked Colas’s ‘rebel without a cause’ white T-shirt and leather jacket outfit. The umbrella wielding, hopeless suitor for Lise’s hand was quite endearing and won lots of hearts in the audience. There were quite a few genuine laugh out loud moments too, throughout the show. When pressed, afterwards to say which of the two I liked best I had to say that they were evenly balanced. Some of the Lyceum choreography was absolutely stunning but the humour was far more pronounced in the Aussie version. I gave them a score draw result. The girls loved the clog dance and were amazed by the bikes, motorbike and scooter that were used in the show – yes, real ones!

I seem to have made a cultural impression on my TV addicted nieces here. They hadn’t been to a Classical Concert or a Ballet before the Wayward Daughter flew into town and now they have seen both in under a month. Mighty oaks grow from small acorns! Maybe they will look for other things to visit themselves when Laura and I are back in the UK. I showed them my diary, on my tablet on the train back to Warnbro and they were astounded to see we have already got booked twenty two items for the next academic year already: theatre, ballet, Classical concerts and a rock concert (OK, the latter is Kathryn Tickell, who doesn’t really count as rock).

They couldn’t believe how much my life revolved around going to the theatre, musical and other ‘cultural’ events. I explained that once you have worked out who you are and what your tastes are, you try and do things that you enjoy rather than just going along with what other people want (or expect). I had dragged them to the Beethoven and the Ballet because they were important to me and because they had seen that they may become important to them too. Even if they didn’t, it was no big deal; at least they had been shown a glimpse through the curtains to something different, they could step through them or not as they saw fit.

Suze, bless her, said, “It sounds like she’s talking bullshit but actually what she is saying is true. She has always been the bookwormy, studious type but not because anyone has forced her be like that, it is just what she enjoyed doing. As she has gotten older she has merely expanded her horizons. The fact she doesn’t give a wet slap what anyone else thinks about what she is doing is another factor, plus the sad truth that sometimes serious things do sound like bullshit, at times!” You could see their jaws drop at their mother’s statement but I thought she had hit the nail on the head exactly.

I went on with, “You sometimes don’t realise you are going along with what someone else wants when it isn’t really what you want at all. When I was engaged to Richard I was really being someone else’s idea of what a dutiful daughter should be like. I can see now, that although I loved Richard dearly, what I had become as his fiancé wasn’t who I really was inside at all.”

“But how can you tell?” was their joint question.

I explained there was no simple answer. If I had married Richard and had children with him, maybe I would have thought I was doing what I really wanted. It was only when my cosy little world was shattered that I was able to see how although his being Mr Right, he was actually wrong in so many ways. I might have lived my entire life and never even seen it, or I could have ended up as a single parent after our relationship foundered when I discovered the real me. Who can say?

Jill expressed it best, “What you are saying is; don’t take anything in your life for granted and check what you are doing all the time along the way?”

We nodded, like three wise monkeys; Laura, Suze and me.

Annabelle wailed, “but what if you don’t know who you are or what you like?”

Laura beat me to an answer, “we are all like that, that’s what growing up is. We make choices and decisions and sometimes they are right and sometimes they are wrong. We just muddle through as best we can. Mums and Dads help as much as they can but you have to make the choices and hope they are right. Sometimes it can be a very frightening thing to do. When I told Victoria I loved her I knew that if she turned me down or was horrible about it, that would have ruined my life. It would be ruined for a while but I would have got over it, the same way she is getting over Richard’s death. You have to go with what you think is best and hope it will be OK.”

I said, “I think this is getting a bit heavy for a train ride. Let’s talk about Global Warming instead!”

In Pete’s bus, on the short ride back home, Annabelle sat in the middle between Laura and me in the back seat and held on to our hands as if her life depended on it.

Author’s note: the words spoken here by my family and Loll are recorded as faithfully as I can remember them. I included them as they sort of seemed important at the time. Of course, they could be mere bullshit, as my sister so politely described it.