LETTER FROM THE OTHER SIDE from CYNTHIA
Written by. Elizabeth. M. Thompson.


Dear Del,
Teddy and I were very pleased to read your news and know of all the happenings on your side of the bay.
The weather bureau promised us some rain so I did the right thing and went out into the garden to throw some pulverised cow manure all over the roses and vegetables hoping it would be washed into the soil. Of course I should be neither surprised nor disappointed by now to not have the rain come; however I could have done without the wind which blew quite a thick coating of the manure all over me. I’m sure I was wafting ‘Cologne of the Dairy’ behind me in the breeze as I buzzed up to the local shop for some milk.

The spring bulbs are in and I hope working away under the ground making good roots. They’ve had enough worm juice to enthuse the laziest of them to grow.
Our family has been doing their usual things. William our younger son is back from a quick business trip to Cannes and London. He seems to time these things rather badly because he was in New York the week the markets crashed and there was a bit of chaos in the streets and he was in London during he G20 meeting where there was a lot of chaos in the streets. If he doesn’t watch himself, he may be getting awkward questions from zealous security people.

Adam our grandson went surfing with a couple of friends last week. It was getting quite dark by the time they got out of the water. As he lives just a few blocks from the beach he decided when he took his wetsuit off, rather than get dressed, he would just wrap a towel around himself, hop in his car and drive home and shower. He walked up the track to where he had parked his car near the Great Ocean Road and then realized he had to secure his surf board onto the roof rack. Of course while doing this, his towel fell off onto the ground and he was stark naked. No one was around so he fumbled about with the straps for his surfboard and was just walking around the rear of the car to the driver’s side when a tourist bus, lights ablaze, rounded the highway corner and held him like a startled rabbit, in full view for the bus load of pale amused Japanese faces as they peered through their windows at him. The driver honked the horn noisily just to increase Adam’s embarrassment and discomfort. He swears one person even flashed a camera at him and is now worrying his picture will appear on someone’s face book site soon for the world to see.
He is trying to get over it, but I think his sisters and mates will not let him recover for some time.

Teddy is still banging about in the shed although the stirling engines have made way during the past few weeks for some sort of solar heater. This device he seems to always strategically place where the dazzling light reflects into the family room and blinds me as I walk through the door. He was very chuffed after boiling his first cup of tea with it. It might come in handy on a sunny day if we have a power cut or go camping, but it would at present take up more room than the gas primus.

Teddy shuddered when Aunt Alice and Uncle Rodger asked us to have a meal with them at the Village to celebrate her birthday.
Fortunately I had been thinking about her birthday already, and was able to preamp any further discussion. Unless your taste buds delight in the flavour of reconstituted cardboard mixed with the choicest gristle from horse meat…… Eating at the village it is not the best of experiences.
Instead I suggested a country pub. Aunt Alice had been hankering for some tender lamb shanks for weeks and the likelihood of getting anything tender at the village, let alone lamb shanks, is nil.

When I had made this suggestion to Teddy he had put in a plea to avoid anywhere that served pensioner specials’ as he can’t cope with the watery cabbage, grey cauliflower and glued potatoes they usually contain and suffers indigestion for days afterward.

Uncle Rodger was very quick to agree to a country pub so I spent some time on the telephone until I found one which would accommodate us with lamb shanks. It sounded ideal for the day. It had an ‘old world charm’ which I know can sometimes simply translate to dilapidated and peeling paint with uneven floors and no heating, but this was one Teddy and I had already been to and knew the owners to be very obliging. It was a fair drive but not so far that Uncle Rodger’s inaccurate map reading or constant driving instructions should get Teddy into too much of a state before we arrived.

I thought I should also invite a few other members of the family as Aunt Alice is getting on in age, so I booked a table for about ten of us.
I felt obliged to invite Frightful Fran as we all call her. We called her this because she is a garrulous, parsimonious and interfering niece who is, I’m pleased to say, from Uncle Rodger’s side of the family, and someone I have spent most of my life trying to avoid. However, for some reason he is fond of her. Probably because being deaf her voice doesn’t seem so strident and he doesn’t hear some of her more objectionable utterances. Oh yes, and because she is a great cook and he loves his food so she always arrives to visit them with cream cakes and biscuits; which he isn’t supposed to have.
I don’t think you have ever met her Del, but if you picture that Holbein portrait of Henry VIII where he is standing legs astride, arms on hips and a fixed stare upon his face you would be close. She just has a little less beard.

The trip went well much to our relief and we arrived at the pub in good time. I think it is a building which started its days as a Cobb and Co stage coach stopping place. There was plenty of parking so getting the old folk out of the back seat and walking inside was easy. Aunt Alice was greeted with happy birthday greetings from all and became very regal in the way she nodded to everyone. I expected her to give a small gracious wave at any moment and mention she should have worn her tiara.
The rooms had been redecorated and the dark pink of the walls against the heavy drapes and the dark stained wood looked lovely. The warm log fire blazing up the chimney seemed to set just the right note for the day.
Once I had Aunt Alice settled comfortable and said hello to everyone and made sure I was seated as far from the dreaded Fran as possible I relaxed, feeling everything was going go well. Now all that was needed was for everyone to enjoy their meals and the day would be perfect. You would think by now I would know better than to relax wouldn’t you?
The menus were handed round and we all began to look down the selections and there were so many to choose from stir fries, schnitzel, pies, rice dishes, vegetarian for Monica and Tony, Italian dishes, braised lamb-shanks for Aunty Alice….heaps of things.
One by one we all chose and Aunt Alice happily ordered her lamb shanks and complemented the waitress about some little thing. She was being so well behaved it was a pleasure to watch her.
Uncle Rodger was staring up and down the menu and turning it over when he was asked for his order.
‘I’ll have the roast’ He stated confidently.
The waitress hesitated and caught my eye. ‘We don’t have a roast Sir’
Uncle Rodger was flabbergasted ‘What? No roast!’
I groaned, the day’s unforseen disaster had arrived right on time.
‘You have to have a roast? How can you be a pub and not have a roast? I’ve never heard of such a thing’. Uncle Rodger was blustering about expecting the poor lass to produce one there and then.
She sensibly left and called the owner who tried vainly to explain to Uncle Rodger that they didn’t always serve roast as they had an extensive menu in which most people could usually find something suitable. And often large roasts were wasted when only a few people came to the pub for lunch, also,…. here he gave a meaningful glance at Uncle Rodger’s large paunch,…. many people watching their fat intake now didn’t eat roasts and, as we had explicitly asked for lamb shanks, it was the special of the day.
The poor man then read down the menu item by item explaining each dish. The replies from Uncle Rodger were various,
‘I don’t like mixed up food.’
‘I don’t like rice, saw too much of it during the war.’
‘I don’t like chicken, it’s for pansies.’
‘Vegetarian? No meat at all? You got to be kidding me man!’ and so on and so forth it went until everyone was either laughing or hiding their embarrassed faces behind their hands. The grandchildren thoroughly enjoyed the whole scene.
Eventually the owner looked at me with such a look of sympathy because I swear by this time my face was as red with embarrassment as the jumper I was wearing, took a large breath and said to Uncle Rodger. ‘The char grills aren’t heated up Sir but I’m willing to heat them up, so would you like a really good rump steak, on the house?’
We could see Uncle Rodger weighing this deal up. Free meal, free meat that he would never get at the village and certainly in his mind, one up on Aunt Alice who was having only lamb shanks. ‘Yes, I’ll except that if it’s the best you can do young man, but I expected better than that from your establishment!’
Aunt Alice leaning forward said in her best diction ‘Yes, we are used to better than that you know young man, perhaps I’ll have the rump also.’
I could have run screaming from the place if the owner hadn’t been so nice. Heaven knows what he said when he got out to the kitchen, but before I could do anything; the Frightful Fran stood, rearranged the centre of the table and produced from a large box she had carried into the pub a gigantic Pavlova.
With a sugary smile that matched the contents of the Pavlova she turned to Aunt Alice and said. ‘I made it just for you knowing how much you like them.’
Teddy, the dear man, took my hand and Monica with tears of suppressed mirth welling up and spilling down her cheeks, made for the ‘ladies rest rooms.’ I followed a short while later.
I think dear Del, it is called ‘one upmanship’ and I have to give it to frightful Fran, she has a masterful touch.

I sent a letter of thanks and apology to the pub, for the disarray our group caused in the dining room and Teddy and I have felt it necessary to drive there a few times during the last few weeks to have a meal that is fully paid for, (I have usually ordered the lamb shanks although I don’t like them because they are what I feed my dogs,) but I’ve eaten them uncomplainingly and even ordered sweets and puddings…… made on the premises.
Next week I don’t have any plans with Aunt Alice and Uncle Rodger, we are going to an artist’s exhibition at the gallery Monica owns. So it should be an interesting, enlightening and altogether relaxing evening.
Do you think I hope for too much Del?

Your lamb-shanked out 'flower child' friend
Cynthia.
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