PINK FLOYD
| O |
ne day, in April 2005, Jocelyn (my sister-in-law) and Jane (my niece) came to the farm for some well-deserved R and R.
A few years earlier, Jane had given Dad C (my father-in-law) a plastic flamingo to put in the garden next to the birdbath. It was supposed to be a bit of a joke – I think.
When we were packing up items from Mum and Dad C’s home, Jane said she wanted Norman and me to have the flamingo for our property. Now …… a plastic flamingo on a lifestyle block???? Where yours truly wants a “natural-looking” planting scheme. A gardener’s garden! We appreciated the gesture (and we know what a wicked sense of humour Jane has) so accepted with good grace. I suggested we three females should “plant” the flamingo near an old pond that had just been re-dug. We are only putting native plants in the area, but thought a rather ridiculous-looking, plastic thingy was testament to Jane’s sense of the ridiculous. Off we went in Roger (the Polaris Ranger) to choose the spot. Deciding that the best position would be a little to the side of the natural watercourse feeding the pond, I told Jane, “Be very, very careful where you stand. It’s very soft in that area. We can poke it with a very long stick and haven’t touched firm ground. So, whatever you do, don’t go in the middle of there ….”, pointing to the sloppy, sludgy area. “You might get stuck”. Jane is a petite, fit, young thing and is very bright (most of the time)! Off she trotted in her brand new gumboots, flamingo in hand. And where does she go ….. straight into the middle of the mucky, sludgy, sticky area. Her left foot sank further and further into the clay. Jocelyn and I were virtually in hysterics watching her. “I can’t pull my foot out!” Jane called. So, being a helpful Aunty Jacky, I went to assist.
I am definitely NOT a petite person, so I had to be particularly careful where I stood (no pun intended). By the time I got as close to Jane as I could with safety, the mud was almost to the top of her gumboot.
By this stage she had plonked the flamingo down and was finding it a little difficult to remain upright. I told Jane to hold onto me while I tried to help her pull her foot and gumboot out. Because we were laughing so much, it wasn’t very successful. In the end, I said, “Remove your foot, stand on my left foot and hold onto me while I retrieve the gumboot”. It worked! Finally. Here I was, bent over, with Jane draped over me, standing on my foot, while I yanked and pulled and yanked.
And ….. all the while Jocelyn was clicking away with the digital camera. There is no way anyone is going to see THOSE photos. There are much prettier things to look at than me from the rear.
A few days later, when I was gardening by the pond, I decided to name the flamingo Floyd. Well … Norman and I do have fun naming things. Like Roger the Ranger, Floyd the Flamingo and all those sheep’s names …..
So, there he stays, in the mud, and reminds us of a few light-hearted moments at a rather sobering time.
