Letter From The Other Side. By Cynthia.

Cynthia absorbs some culture and Uncle Rodger becomes an 'under cover cop.'

Dear Del,
How are you? I believe you had a very special birthday to celebrate, I do hope it all went very well.
It has been a time of birthdays for our family also. It’s strange but noticeable how many families have clusters of birthdays around the same time of the year and we are no different. The finances get stretched a little around now for us and as another approaches, we begin to sag at the thought of yet another celebration.
Some of the family have been touched by the economic downturn and it is hard to know what we, at our time of life, can say to make them feel better without our turning into the sort of old people we knew at their age You remember them also no doubt. All those old folk who were always telling us about their hard times and how much worse it was in their day and how little we appreciated what we had or what an easy life we lived.
Eventually we know our children will look back on their difficult years just as we all have and realize the sun keeps coming up and going down. Then one day they will wake, look back, and realize they came through their troubles and were stronger as a result of them. There are never any experiences in life that don’t teach us something, be they good or bad.
We’ve watched crops blown out of drought dried land. Teddy has been forced to shoot animals he loved because we couldn’t feed them. We’ve had losses and setbacks but each one made us the people we are for better or worse. We’ve stuck together through it all and shared the good and bad. Now we can even laugh about some of them at times, like the mouse plague when our daily sport was to see how many ways we could catch the little blighters as they surged around the grain bins and ran across our pillows at night. I even stopped making the beds because by the evening, when we turned back our blankets, they would have got into the bed and made nests.
William was only a baby and he was in a cot with heavy fly wire sides and a lid to stop them getting in with him at night. The cats were bored with the chase and only left token catches at the doorsteps to show they were doing a bit. To explain this sort of thing to people who haven’t seen them, is quite impossible. It’s like pictures of the rabbit plagues in my mum and dad’s time during the depression or the clouds of locusts which stuffed up our car radiators during 1950’s, and ate everything in sight which was green!
You have to experience something to know what it’s like. That’s how life is for anyone. If we want to grow in character as people, we must experience life, not just sail through it on calm waters.
Retirement is anything but retiring some months. We have been called on to babysit the youngest grandchildren. One of them discovered his grandfather wasn’t the soft old pushover he thought he was when Teddy wouldn’t buy a treat for him at the local shop. This resulted in a fine exhibition of how to attract the attention of a crowd. He performed an award winning display of frustration and temper tantrum which did not please his grandfather at all.
If it had been one of our own children when they were young, a good sharp smack and a loud ‘No’ would have been sufficient to stop him but these days we are supposed to explain or reason with the child when he is behaving badly. He was in no condition to listen or even hear us.
It is like trying to explain electricity to a toddler who is about to stick a screw driver in a wall socket. ‘No’ should be sufficient.
But then Teddy and I have never had a piece of paper saying we are experts in child behaviour, we just did what seemed logical and sensible to us and within the parameters of the prevailing thinking of society at that time.
However, each generation complains about the subsequent ones and we are no different. We all have to do things in our own way. Sometimes it works, others it doesn’t. None of us should remain chained to the past and maybe if we watch and listen, we will learn things as well.

Despite hurting his back while mending the fence for our elderly neighbour, Teddy has our winter spinach, broccoli, broad beans, chard etc growing well and because of our lack of space he is growing our potatoes in a wire mesh affair on some paving. We saw the idea in the local Botanical Food Gardens and thought it would suit our confined spaces very well.
I am hoping we will get rain. We missed out entirely on the last rain that you lucky people received over your side of the bay. I have to admit I’m gradually gaining far more faith in the predictions of the ants and Currawongs than I have in the weather bureau.
I don’t know how I would cope if we ever had enough water for me to take my companion of the shower, The blue Bucket out of the cubicle, I think I would feel quite alone after all this time of dancing around it every day. It’s surprising how many litres it has carried out to the garden over the past four years and how many plants have survived the 40 degree days as a result.
As I mentioned in my last letter, Teddy and I were to attend Monica’s gallery for an art exhibition opening. It was for one of her better known artists and we discovered he is also one of her more difficult ones. The artist shall remain nameless because it turned out not to be quite the glittering affair I had envisaged or one sees on television when the cameras are rolling.
I wore something I haven’t worn for ages since we don’t attend these functions very often and was pleased it still went over my hips without too much persuasion and Teddy agreed to wear a tie, which is quite a concession for him.
We arrived early because I thought there may have been a few little things we could help Monica with and found her up a ladder heaving paintings to every different side of the gallery and parts of the walls. Her lovely new dress was snagged and she was barefoot, as the high heeled sandals she had been wearing were not designed for climbing ladders.
The artist and star of the night, in his heightened nervous state, had demanded the paintings be rearranged because he had changed his mind about the original positions. Some of them were very large and very heavy and it took all of us, including Tony, quite a while to make the retched fellow happy. He of course did very little of the physical work involved, just a great deal of hand wringing while he barked multitudes of conflicting instructions at us.
By the time we placed the last one in its new position people were beginning to wander in the doors giving us very little time to have a drink and a quick tidy up.
Monica held her temper –only just—and with a supreme effort smiled her most welcoming smile making sure each guest was served with a drink and a suitable amount of attention to ensure they felt welcome before she moved onto the next.
Of course I know from having spoken with her at various times that many of the guests only come to be seen at these cultural happenings and as I watched and listened during the evening, I discovered many of them could do with a little bit of it rubbing off on them!
Others like to arrive in time to show off a little and make sure they are always close to the newspaper photographers just to make the social pages once more. They are a type we have nick-named photographer’s blow flies.
Many of course come for the social gathering and for the almost unlimited free drink and food provided. A few artists wander in to check up on what others are painting and to keep an envious eagle eye on the sales figures.
Sales were slow at first. Monica put me in charge of the red sold stickers to prevent some bright spark who has drunk too much red wine swiping them and going about putting a sold sticker on almost every painting…..just for a lark. Monica has had this happen in the past, and it took her a great deal of explaining to an excited artist who thought he has been discovered by the general populous and made a fortune overnight, to comprehend what had happened and then even more time for her to deal with his disappointment.
Eventually the our artist of the evening did make his first sale and was so pathetically pleased we all refrained from telling him it was purchased by a woman who thought it would be the correct size to cover up the faulty plaster on her wall from where her old air conditioner had been removed.
The second painting was sold because it matched the colour of a couch. Which was only a slightly better reason for its sale, but to a starving artist, it meant money.
The artist, after selling a third painting became elated and in his rapidly over imbibed state, unfortunately became far too free with his bonhomie and his hands with the wife of one of Monica’s best and most knowledgeable buyers. The result being he was roundly insulted and left standing in an alcoholic daze from a barrage of language he probably hadn’t expected from such a refined couple.
He was recovering a little just as he noticed one of his rivals peering at a large oil. This person’s nose was almost touching the paint on the canvas as he gazed intently at the work. These men have always been jealous of each others work and resent any success, Monica told us later, so she has always tried to keep them apart.
We heard the remark ‘If you aren’t going to buy it, don’t put your nose on it.’ from across the room.
‘Not worth buying. Anyway, I think it’s a copy’ was the reply.
Well, that accusation is like a challenge to a dual. They began to scuffle, grabbing each others collars and jackets and yelling insults and abuse.
You can imagine Del, which pictures appeared in the paper the next day can’t you?
Tony, who has a large collection of jokes about artists, was very good and calmed the situation while laughing with the rest of the guests about ‘artistic temperaments’ but it was very embarrassing for Monica.
While this was going on, the young couple Monica had hired to serve the drinks and finger food had been enjoying quite a lot of them in the kitchen. Her usual caterers had not been available, so she had hired this couple who worked nearby in one of the restaurants. I had noticed earlier the young man was weaving around the various groups with a little less dexterity than he had shown at the beginning of the evening. Now, neither of them was visible and some of the guests were looking about for refills for their glasses.
However it wasn’t until my need to go the ‘Ladies’ became quite pressing that I took the opportunity to glance in to check the state of the kitchen.
There for anyone who passed by to see, were the two young ones on the kitchen floor doing what most young ones will do at the drop of a hat, or trousers and knickers I should perhaps say!
I vaguely remember thinking how long her legs were and what a mess she was making of her clothes but I’m proud I at least had the presence of mind to shut the door and rush off to get Monica who after turning white, made her way as sedately but also as quickly as she could to the kitchen.
I have no idea what she said to them, I imagine health and safety by-laws and possible fines and bad press issues may have been only part of it, but they left shortly afterward looking slightly shabby and ruffled about the hair and very sheepish. The young woman who had tottered in on very high heels stumbled over the doorstep carrying her shoes and her dusty jacket over her shoulder as she tried to give the appearance Monica’s words had no affect on her whatever.
From that moment, Teddy and I took care of the drinks and the finger food as we were probably some of the most unlikely of those present to end up on the kitchen floor!
By now Monica was looking very tired and although she didn’t sell as many paintings for her artist as she’d hoped, I think the sales picked up during the following few days.
Teddy and I have a new and greater respect for her job and her reasons for sometimes being less than complementary about some of the clients and artists she deals with, but we will probably not go to too many more openings as I would find the anticipation of just what might happen rather unnerving to do it too often.
I did see a still life I liked because it would have suited our dining room but as Monica has said to me in the past, but until now I never quite understood what she meant by it, sometimes, after having met the artist, people don’t want to own anything he or she has painted. I can see her point now and know what she means, so my education was improved in one way at least.

We called in to see Aunt Alice and Uncle Rodger at the village last week to discover he had been employed as an ‘undercover cop’ as he put it. He loves ‘The Bill’ T.V show and has picked up all he right ‘lingo’.
Anyway, there has been a spate of thefts from various people at the village. Unfortunately it does happen and the management wanted to catch the person they suspected red handed if possible.
So Uncle Rodger with the help of his mates devised the plan to set a trap by leaving the manager’s video camera hidden in the basket of his walker. They hid it under some clothing and pointed it at the desk he has in their rooms and left a small amount of money and Aunt Alice’s old watch, which no longer works, right where it could be seen.
The suspect would come in to clean and be tempted and videoed, as she succumbed to the easy takings.
It was all very hush hush and they were so excited to be chosen to be the ones to catch the thief.
They left the rooms and didn’t return for an hour or two giving the thief time to take the bait.
Sure enough when they came back the money and watch were gone. Uncle Rodger rushed….well walked as fast as his poor old legs could go… up to the manager’s office with the video recorder. I should remind you here that Uncle Rodger still uses a typewriter and old transistor radio; he knows nothing about new things like video cameras.
He waited with rising anticipation to see the results of his police work. Imagine how bitterly disappointed he was to find he had forgotten to actually turn the video on. So he not only didn’t have the pictures, he no longer had the money; Aunt Alice’s wristwatch or catch the thief!
They are going to try again next week, but expect other people to contribute to the money this time.
Ah well Del, it has been quite an interesting week one way and another. I’ll catch up with you again soon.
We intend to visit some old friends up in the Mallee next week and may take Aunt Alice and Uncle Rodger. We’ll see, it’s a six hour drive to get there and could possibly be too much togetherness, for all of us,
Love from your slightly more educated and cultured ‘flower child friend’,
Cynthia.