Tuesday, December 6, 2022

Vale Glenise Quinlan

Today, I put on a dress and went to the funeral of my great friend, Glenise. Several years ago, when I dabbled more frequently in blogging, Glenise asked me to write something about her, “on that website thingy’ when she died. Of course I said yes and then put it away in the corner of my minds where I keep the things that will never happen – because truly I believed that she would be in my life for ever. She was one of the constants of my universe. I don’t know why my particular voice was important to her but here goes.


 

Glenise- Sue, Glen, Chooky, Mum, Gran – she went by different names to different people but every name was the definition of a do-er. When she saw a task that needed doing, she did it. Such was the nature of this woman that the many of her good deeds have gone unsung. She didn't do things for accolades or fanfare, she just saw a need and took care of it. I looked around at all the people at her funeral today knowing that all of them had something in common.

Somewhere, in their time of need, Chooky had cooked for them, driven them somewhere, looked after their children, washed their clothes, consoled them, advised them, picked them up when they thought they were broken, dusted them off and put them back on their feet. She did all those things for me, and I feel a bit adrift knowing that my life jacket is gone.

 

I don’t know if there’s a definitive list, but I lost count of the numbers of vulnerable little humans that Chooky took into her care as foster children. It wasn’t unusual to have her ring late at night – “I’ve got a 2 month old arriving at midnight- do you have any blue baby clothes?” She loved all those babies as if they were her own. She showered them with love but also with the routines so necessary for a good start in life. The nurturing extended to all of her friends’ and neighbours’ children as well. The kitchen at Glenise and Frank’s was always full of miscellaneous mischief makers- and their little faces lined the walls in framed portraits in ever increasing numbers, sometimes updated from baby to school uniform to wedding photo. When Taine was a baby and I went back to work, Glenise was the obvious choice as caregiver. There’s no one I would have trusted more with my own precious miracle. We called her the Baby Whisperer because when she put the baby down to sleep, that’s what the baby did.

 

Glenise was the ultimate good Samaritan. She had an ear for everyone and an action to match. Countless numbers of us have poured our hearts out to her over a cup of tea, or a sherry, or a brandy and dry – or bubbles on special occasions. She nursed us through sicknesses and heartaches. She chauffered us to appointments and kept vigil with us in hospitals and waiting rooms. We all received congratulatory messages for the slightest success and she never forgot a birthday. And we never forgot hers. 

 

Her Boxing Day birthday was just another reason to extend the Christmas celebrations. Her Christmas tree was as big as her heart and underneath it was a present for each one of those framed faces of the extended family of children on the wall. Each present was hand picked and exactly what we wanted because she knew us all so well. For my kids, Christmas was rounded out with a visit to Chooky’s on Christmas night.

 

If you were really lucky, as we were many times, you’d be included in the Christmas Day feast; a smorgasboard of roasted magnificence, all cooked by Glenise on the wooden stove, complete with the pudding that had been hanging from the kitchen rafter for weeks, and eaten about 3 o’clock in the afternoon, after copious glasses of champagne and bowls of nuts & bolts. 

 

Christmas lunch was just an elaborate version of the regular Sunday roast that appeared on the table like magic, every single week. Somehow that Sunday roast always spread far enough to feed whichever grand child, visiting relative or stray visitor happened to be about. In 2005 Glenise and Jess came to NZ with us on a school trip. Glenise cooked that Sunday roast, on her own, for 40 people in a tiny caravan park oven.

 

On top of the love she showered on everyone else, there was the love Chook had for her sisters, her own girls and their families. A prouder Mum, Gran and aunty there never was. And then there was Cappy. As I said at Frank’s funeral, theirs was one of life’s greatest stories of passion and tempest.


Having a sea faring husband meant Glenise had to be a master of adaptability, switching from independent, solo parent to family dynamic on a regular basis. While Frank was away, Glenise managed her household as well as any sea captain. When Frank was home, they disappeared to the bedroom for days on end. Sometimes they drove each other crazy but she would have followed that man to the end of the earth – in fact she once did just that, when she took off on a solo backpacking trip in her 50s- trekking around Europe, staying in hostels and catching up with Frank in different ports.

My first memory of Glenise is her voice on the end of the phone- in particular on the end of the exchange phone where she worked as a telephonist on the switchboard that connected one phone to another in Mortlake. You’d ring the switch and tell them what number you wanted and they’d connect you. Except when Glenise was on duty, you often didn’t need to be connected at all, because she was the keeper of all knowledge in town. She could tell you who was home, who was not, and if they weren’t home where you could find them and whether it was a good time to ring. She knew if the butchers was open, if it was raining, whether the mail had been - she was the original Google.

 

Her own phone number ended in 098 and she kept that number right through until today. I guess, as a hangover from the telephonist days, even in the days of caller ID, she always answered the phone with that number – ‘Hello, 098”. Sometimes I would try to one up her by answering her phone call with “hello 098” and she’d say, "Annabel, how’d you know it was me?"

 

There’s another memory that I share with dozens of closet card sharks in the district. Glenise’s card playing skills were second to none. From genteel Crazy Whist afternoons in the lounge rooms of the ladies of the district, to the caravan parks of Warrnambool and Lake Bolac, the jar of gambling coins followed her everywhere and the regular Saturday night after tennis, which later became the Friday night- into the wee hours of Saturday morning, year round blackjack games in the Quinlan’s lounge room were the stuff that legends are made of. Those games were serious business, but like everything she did, they were just another way of bringing people together.

 

It would be remiss of me not to mention tennis. Tennis was Chooky’s game. While she loved to watch the cricket, it was tennis that she played. I’ve often been confused how her granddaughter became a champion Australian cricketer, because with the amount of Gran’s genes in her she could equally have been belting it out with Ash Barty at Wimbledon instead. In truth, Glenise wasn’t the best tennis player in the world but she was one of the most resilient and determined and that wily backhand of hers outsmarted a lot of would be champions. I remember one day we played in 40 degree heat and most of us wanted to call it quits but we were playing against Jude’s team and if Judy was playing on, so was Glenise! For many years we played country week together in Warrnambool. We’d start at 9, play till 5, go back to the van for a couple of sherries and then we’d walk back over the road and play the twilight comp. And then come home to start the card game. Her energy was boundless.

 

It seems brutally unfair to me that the last part of her life was robbed of that energy but today was a glorious day for tennis, so I’m taking that as a sign that Chooky’s already back on the court somewhere.

 

And that brings me back to my initial thought  – the conviction that Glenise would always be with us- because, of course, I realise now that this is true. The energy of someone who touches so many lives, in so many ways, can never be lost. She was a champion for the underdog, a supporter of the unsupported, a carer to the care givers, a helping hand to anyone who needed it. She’ll stay with us in every kind word we say, with every act of altruism we perform. She taught us all that it’s possible to be a truly good person. That’s Chooky’s legacy and we can honour it by doing our best to be the type of friends to each other, that she was to us.

Saturday, March 28, 2020

The Corona Chronicles- March 2020

March 28, 2002

I'm resurrecting my blog to chronicle the bizarre twist in history that is the Covoid-19 virus. I'm confident that, like other disastrous moments in history, this nightmare too shall pass and hopefully, in another ten years time, my grandchildren will study 2020 at school as a weird but successfully solved blip in our lives. And then in 50 years and 100 years time their children's children will study it too and maybe their great-great grandma's journaling will provide a useful primary resource for them.

Today is the first day of real impact for me. Up until now I've been at work so life has seemed relatively normal, seeing other people and quietly preparing for but not really affected by the crisis.

I had a basic mathematical understanding of exponential growth before but now we're living it, through the deadly statistics of the pandemic and the rapid change to our lifestyle.
Three weeks ago it was the Labour Day weekend. We went to Hamilton to watch Shakespeare in the Gardens on Saturday and to the MCG with 87,000 other people to watch the World Cup cricket final on Sunday. I was more careful than usual with my hand hygiene and I was little anxious in the crowded entrances but I didn't really feel at risk.

Two weeks ago, we went to a wedding. I remember thinking I should be more careful with my physical distancing but there were lots of lovely people there that I hadn't seen for ages and it seemed silly and over cautious not to hug them.

By last weekend, the reality of the numbers around the world started to sink in. Our exchange student was recalled to France and we began to panic about her safety - and our safety taking her to the airport. Suddenly the need for gloves and alcohol wipes and sanitiser was very real.

School holidays began early for the kids and that eased the pressure a bit but at the same time raised the anxiety that life as we know it was about to change forever. And then yesterday, I finished work for the term and there was no reason why we couldn't retreat to our own little bunker and try to do our bit by keeping away from everyone else.

And so begins an eerie, anxiety ridden, uncertain time for everyone.
The best we can do is stay hopeful and do what we're told. I cry every time I think of not seeing my grown up kids or my beautiful grandchildren for the foreseeable future. My heart breaks for Taine, stuck in the house with us with no sport or theatre or face to face contact with friends. I'm disappointed about the holidays and adventures that we'll miss. But I know we are the lucky ones. As public servants we get paid regularly, we live in the country where personal space is plentiful and although my age puts me just into the higher risk category, we are, for the most part, mentally and physically well.

When the school holidays are over, we'll be flat out navigating our way through online learning. I feel like we're pretty well prepared for that but how it will work in actuality remains to be seen. Its hard enough engage some kids when they're at school; no doubt distance will not make their hearts grow fonder!

But for now, we need a routine. Exercise, healthy food, intellectual stimulation, sleep, repeat.
Today we managed most of those goals. I walked 4 km, Geoff invented a delicious zucchini and sweet potato soup, I read a couple of education articles and, in a major show of self control, waited until 6pm to open the wine.

We can only control our own behaviour and our own reactions.
It feels ineffectual but he least (most) we can do is stay home and let our brave first responders get on with their jobs.
One day at a time.
#stayhome #staysafe #stayalive

Monday, August 21, 2017

Birthday Week

As my own children and the children I’ve taught know, I pride myself on knowing EVERYTHING! There are no secrets kept from me because of my superior ability to put two and two together and smell rats in the least obvious places.

So I am considering it the coup of the century that my husband and friends managed to pull off a birthday surprise heist at the weekend.

Geoff says I’ve been sooking that nothing was being planned for my big birthday – obviously sooking is too strong a word but I admit I was starting to feel a little unloved. I’d been rationalising the lack of planning to soothe myself- just got back from an amazing holiday, busy at work, one child not in the country, birthdays are just another number etc, etc… Given his track record of awesomeness at celebrations, I knew Geoff wouldn’t let me down but, you know, self doubt, old age; I was beginning to think maybe the magic was finally fading.

The almost last straw was his suggestion to Jaime that she pick up a cake from the cheesecake shop on Tuesday so we could blow some candles out after swimming. A cheesecake? Really? For my 60th birthday? All I had requested for my birthday was one of @icingonyourcake’s magnificent creations – and now, apparently, I was getting a last minute, don’t even ask me what flavour I want, probably will forget I need cream with it, store bought…..cheesecake!

One of my ‘best girls’ had organised to take me out for dinner at the pub on Saturday night as a pre birthday treat. Tired after a day at the footy and still harbouring some despondency over the cheesecake, I really didn’t feel like it but I was so grateful to Steph for at least making an effort that I committed to going, despite being in the same clothes I’d had on all day.

When Steph arrived to pick us up, Geoff staged the most ridiculous stalling tactics I have ever seen, and yet I still didn’t twig! I sat in the car and twiddled my thumbs while he waffled on about toothpaste accidents and needing to change his clothes.
When we got down the street they informed me we were going to Olivine instead of the pub. 
“Have you booked?” 
"Nope, we’ll be right, there’s just the 3 of us” 
“Well, that’s just silly, there’s lots of cars at Olivine and hardly any at the pub, why don’t we go there?”

It never occurred to me that I knew the owners of all those cars.
It never occurred to me that the function room was in darkness and yet there were people in there.
People waiting for me. Lovely friends and family, waiting for me in my dirty clothes, unbrushed hair and no make up. Wonderful conspirers the lot of them, dreaming up a birthday dinner, right under my nose! What a beautiful, warm fuzzy of loveliness.

And of course, there was cake. A magnificent, lindt ball covered creation complete with all things dear to me; books and my missing glasses, a goal shooter’s bib and little figurines of the twins and Theo.



I’ve never been so happy to have been lied to.

PS: I also got my cheesecake- served with a triple dose of love from my best boys. Completely spoilt and it's not even my birthday yet!


And tomorrow, I'll be elderly. Thoughts on that at a later date!

Saturday, December 31, 2016

366- #Thingsthatmademehappy 2016

This year I completed another 365 project (taking and uploading one photo every day). Actually I completed two, one on Insta and the other on Flickr and they were 366 projects because of the leap year, but whatever... semantics. The important thing is that I followed the rules, created a visual diary of our year, discovered some great photographers on Flickr and learnt a little bit more about photography along the way.
I only cheated once, as in there was just one day when I didn't take a photo and so I used a screen shot to make a yesterday's photo satisfy a today's date upload.

My theme for 2016 was #thingsthatmakemehappy
Here's the top 10 things that satisfied the hashtag

My kids- Nothing makes me happier than having all of them in the same place at the same time.
Christmas present weekend to Rye

Mothers' Day

This man - He's the best cook, the best travel buddy, the best kisser and luckily he's also very photogenic.





The Lover and the Lunatic - Being a grandma is beyond wonderful. Every minute spent with these two is a joy.
This is my favourite photo for 2016. Sums up their relationship perfectly.


I took this selfie the day Jaime told me she was expecting no3. It was hailing outside the car and I was imagining how all 4 of us would fit in the car on rainy netball days in 2017!







The Sharks- The Mortlake Junior Sharks had a very successful season. There were plenty of shuffles to photograph and I got to coach an amazing group of kids again this year. Then, in one of life's curly turns, suddenly the Sharks were no longer. I'm so sad that it's over but incredibly happy that I had the opportunity to coach again and to work with a great group of people.

Practice makes perfect - 4 perfect flicks



Our animals-

This was the last photo I took of these two together. We lost them both this year, just a few weeks apart. The original 'odd couple'.


My job - I moan about it a lot but really, I have the best job, in a great school, with awesome kids.
The opposition debaters never stood a chance

Graduation time

A fun filled trip to NZ

Who knew the dictionary was so exciting?



Performing Arts- I think the skills developed in performance pave the way for success in life and the happiness in creating a great performance is contagious.

Les Miserables

Big Fish


Indigo and Juliet
Lion King Jnr
Vietnam - Right up there with the best travel experience I've ever had.
HCMC - crazy town
 Fresh chicken

Hoian- one of the happiest places on Earth

Special events-
Pascale came back to visit and we managed a surprise assembly appearance

The Bulldogs won the flag. How good was that!

Sunsets - They were my standby when nothing else had made me smile. Its lucky we get so many beauties.



                               

      

  

      

     
     
And so the sun sets on 2016. Thanks to everyone who's allowed me to photograph them or tag them and thanks to my Instagram and Flickr followers for their feedback.
 Before tomorrow morning I need a theme for 2017's 365.
Any ideas?