My very modern digital
kitchen whizz blender
efficiently beats mixes blends
pulverises foods of varying
textures thicknesses stodginesses.
But first I must assemble all
its inner parts before adding
the ingredients. Next its lid
must be locked on just so, the
combined parts in its jug
connected to the motor unit
just so or it refuses to operate.
Once the ingredients have
been duly combined I must
persuade the blender to
unlock and release its lid.
I have already done my time
of whipping stiff mixtures
with an egg beater until
my arm is sore and aching,
of beating with a whisk
until my arm felt like lead.
Battling with the blender
still takes less time, my
arm retains its strength.
Previously posted April 2018.
Celebration
Nana’s generation, her children
their children, with friends of
different ages gather for
this day of celebration.
All chat over pre lunch drinks
while milling around sunny
living room deck and lawn
as children race in and
out through the crowd.
All have contributed to the
prolific banquet now consumed
at length pausing a while to
digest before starting again
on dessert, then on to luscious
sumptuous birthday cake.
So now to a pleasant time of
sitting, lazing, digesting
that magnificent feast in
cheerful Autumn sun
while guitarist and flautist
entertain us with lively
traditional folk music.
Previously posted April 2018.
Children’s Reunion
Family gather for Nana’s big
birthday potluck lunch on a
sunny Autumn Sunday.
A free flowing cornucopia
of plates, bowls of food
arrives on the kitchen table.
Nana’s grandchildren from
around the country meet after
a long separation. The three
older ones play schoolyard tag,
hide and seek with loud shrieks
and yells around talking adults
in the living room, on the deck
round the garden through
fruit trees feet thudding at
high speed back inside
through bedrooms on through
the kitchen from which
they are promptly ejected.
The four year old can’t keep up
no one will play little cars
with him they are running
so fast they scare him.
His Dad plays cars with him, the
four year old calms down.
Little brother’s sturdy two
year old legs run valiantly
to keep up by fail. Mum
and Nana in the kitchen
talk to him as they lay out
the food. He brightens up.
Lunch will be soon.
Previously posted May 2018.
Birthday Feast
At Nana’s home family
gathered for her very significant
birthday on a sunny day with
some of her friends they brought
generous offerings for a tasty
home made pot luck lunch.
Roast chicken and vegetables
falafel balls salad and bread
with so much more went on to
our plates then we sat to on the
deck and its steps to enjoy
this feast. Little brother sat
with Dad who helped him
with this birthday lunch.
Next came fruit, ice cream in
different flavours with home
made muffins holding chocolate
chips and blueberries.
Finally the glorious masterpiece
the lemon birthday cake all
covered in flowery swirls
of purple icing, Nana’s
very favourite colour.
All enjoyed in cheerful company
of family and friends in the sun.
Previously posted April 2018.
Little Brick House
On our quiet suburban street
a quiet little brick house
has stood for over fifty years
up the grassy slope from the
footpath its neat low brick
wall topped with little rose
bushes and colourful perennials
lovingly tended by the elderly
owner as she weeded pruned
under the graceful branches
of bottlebrush and kowhai trees.
One day her house stood
empty, doors open, large
windows stripped of curtains
showed emptiness right through.
Tradesmen’s vans came and
went saws and drills screamed
and screeched, hammers banged.
House and garden walls were
plastered rendered, painted
gardens dug up, concrete
laid down over newly
installed cables for power
and telecommunications.
She would no longer recognise
her home of many years.
Previously posted April 2018.
Stripped Bare
The elderly house clad in its
homeowner’s rough paint job
stood behind the huge old tree
in the centre of its luxuriant
front lawn hidden by
overgrown front gardens
tranquilly dozing through
its later ancient years
beside the old cracked driveway
sprouting weeds through its
many craggy ruptures.
In its lengthy back garden
flourishing trees and bushes
towered above surrounding
dwarfed suburban houses.
At last its elderly owner passed
away. New owners arrived.
Now the huge old tree has been
removed from the front lawn
a garage sits there instead.
The dilapidated front wall is
demolished, the front garden
levelled to the ground ……
…… completely deforested.
The jungle behind the house is
dug up by roaring machines
carted away in truckloads
over a week, the ancient
dug up carted away.
Stark stands the old house
on its stripped barren land.
Previously posted April 2018.
A Prolific Vine
Broad matt leaves on sprawling
stems tumbled over bent battered
sheets of old corrugated
iron fence, sheets attached
to slowly rotting posts
on the neighbour’s side.
I trimmed these stems from
time to time hoping to see
time green bunches likely to
grow into grapes hiding under
large flat leaves like thoses
spreading along vineyard wires.
No grapes ever appeared.
My hopes were dashed when
the vine at last sent fruit
over the fence, no cluster
of tiny green fruit but a
large ugly green egg
shaped object with a green
thorny skin – a choko !!
No flavoursome flesh but
white tasteless matter
needing chutney cooking
and seasonings for eating.
It went back over the fence.
Previously posted April 2018.
A New Home
After Alfred suddenly passed
away rose at eighty five felt
insecure in her retirement cottage.
Alfred had led their moves to
a little low maintenance home
on to their cottage in the little
retirement village always
convincing as they shared
the work moving to new homes.
Now unexpectedly she was
alone with shaky hands no
one at home for company
companionable silences
her children grandchildren
scattered around the country
her best friends in their eighties
with elderly limits on their lives.
Practical Rose was experienced
in moving. She inspected rest
homes interviewed matrons
made her choice with her daughters
alongside. Selling her cottage she
moved into her chosen rest home.
I need company every day she said.
Previously posted March 2018.
Rest Home
In their eighties Dad needed
nursing care but Mum was
too frail to nurse him.
He moved to the rest home
down the road leaving Mum
behind missing him terribly.
She visited him every day
often stopping to talk to
other old men living there
with far fewer visits
brightening their days.
In time Dad passed away
leaving Mum in her frailty
still sorely missing him.
She could not bear to return
to the rest home she told
the matron at the supermarket.
Now the old men at the
rest home missed both
their friend and his
cheerful daily visitor.
Previously posted March 2018.
Age Gap
Perplexed mother told daughter
a younger man wanted to be
her special friend. she was
old fashioned in these matters.
What to do now ?
Father had long since passed
away. Daughter thought mother
should enjoy her later years
with a special friend.
For a woman of 98 in a
comfortable rest home a man
of 92 was a suitable friend a
six year gap was nothing now.
So mother graciously agreed to
be his special friend enjoyed
three years of happiness till her
peaceful passing at 101.
Her frail younger man at 95
grieved her passing deeply, was
moved to the hospital wing.
Previously posted March 2018.
lifecameos 