To the right of the photo is our spare room window- which is where I sit to sew, & also compose my posts.
The window beyond that is our bedroom window, which looks out over the valley, & down to the village.
On the left is the palm tree, which grows at the front or our balcony. It is a Bangalow Palm, which are native to Australia, & I am very fond of it.
Across the road is our neighbour's drive way. He shares this with people who live on a block hehind his. He is a friend, & he lives alone. He is a tradesman, who is generous with his time & his skills, to his neighbours.
It is nice to feel we know our neighbours, & have acquaintanceship with them. They are all nice people, & I am sure, would be supportive should we need them. We are on call, should they need us, & it is nice to be called upon occasionally, & nice to know they can feel comfortable enough with us, to call when necessary.
I feel this is how neighbourhoods should be. We should all be here, to support one another, if the need arises.
We had very aged sisters, who were accross the road from us. We ran errands, & visited often. They both had to go into homes. Have both passed away. I have cried at their passing. Another couple, lovely neighbourly people died within 2 months of each other. Shockingly, unexpectedly. Nice, new folk bought the houses. We are here, should they need us.
I feel we were brought up with those ideals. Our Grandmother was a friend to the neighbourhood. She was called 'Danny', my childish nickname for her, by all our neighbours. They all came to consult with her at various times, & she was loved & respected by many who knew her. She kept her wise counsel, & never gossiped. She was a true lady, I feel.
To return to the little man with the hammer.
We had SG today, for some hours. He has a very heavy cold, with accompanying cough, a rather brochitic sounding one. Each day we have had him, I have tried to steer clear of the involuntary coughs errupting. I have got him to blow his poor litte nose, to rid of the green mucous. Placing the tissues into the toilet or the waste bin, hoping not to spread the bacteria. Washing his & my hands, hoping to prevent cross infection.
He was reminiscing about his babyhood this afternoon. Asking why he was absent from photos of his parents with is sister. I tried to explain, he was not even an egg whe the photos were taken. He couldn't seem to grasp it all.
He reminded me, that I used to cradle him in my arms when he was a baby. I used to hold him till he slept, & he said, "I used to sleep in your arms Nanna" I agreed, that was true. He snuggled into me, & went to sleep this afternoon.
We had a friend come to visit. He watched SG fall asleep, lying in the crook of my arm. He noticed I looked very tired. I was. The little man with the hammer was in the back of my head. At the base of my skull. Reminding me, I need some rest. I am tired.
But, who could resist the trust of a little boy, resting, so blissfully safe, uaware of life's harsh realities? So safe, in his Nanna's arms. Safe from the outside world, of expectations. Of life's unpleasantries. Just. Peacefully. Safe.
The little man with the hammer can call again another day. Perhaps I will give him time, attention. But today he can get in the queue, behind SG. Who needs my attention more.
Perry Como, (I think) Catch a Falling Star.
I love those lyrics.
"Catch a falling star,
And put it in your pocket.
Save it for a rain day.
And when that rainy day comes a calling,Some starless night
You'll have a pocket full of starlight...
Those lyrics could be incorrect, & I hope I havent breached copyright!!
