Telling Tales (true or tall)

FAMILY JIGSAW I think of family as a living jigsaw in a great, big box. Everything in order, sitting pretty and much valued. Separately, depending on others, like building blocks And, with each fragment, the whole of us continued.   Although bits were rearranged, it still looked like Us. Friends and colleagues might cause some movement But the picture gradually returned to our ordinariness. Life continued despite what changes might represent.   Until the vessel broke and pieces scattered everywhere. Frantic scrabbling and searching failed to find them all. I’m searching for an important piece, lost somewhere, So the completed picture can again be the Us I recall.   © Sandy Gillis July 2023  Published Dec 2024 Hinterland Times  

MEMORIES I reach over in my sleep To cuddle your warm, tousled body. But the sheets are cold. You no longer seek my comfort in the night.   I hear you chuckling down the hall, Are you playing and hiding in the kitchen? But the cupboard’s bare. There’s no laughter in you anymore.   I think I see you waving to me from afar And run towards you to find out why. Then you turn away. My advice no longer needed; you know all.   My mind knows this too will pass But my heart yearns for the happy toddler Who saw me, her mother, As the love and the light of her life.   Sandy Gillis ©   Submitted to Hinterland Times July 2019  -  Published Mar 2020

  DE JA VU -ING Sometimes, I cannot actually tell Where dreams begin and reality ends. Am I surfing a mountainous swell Or just dreaming about riding high? Surely, I’ve walked this track recently, Fighting through an overgrown path. Although it all seems so familiar to me, Perhaps it’s just the struggle that is real. Standing at the edge of the precipice I fight the urge to take another step Then fly like a bird high above the abyss Before landing safely way below. It’s just a dream and I wake in fright, But I see it’s time to keep walking Into reality. Not from that great height But forward towards new opportunities. No more dreaming, or de ja vu -ing. Time for authenticity in my existence, Some go-getting and positive ‘doing’. Dreams are for those sleeping through life.   © S Gillis 2023 Published Hinterland Times July 2023

  OBI MAGIC   Timing and patience I’m told is the key. So, I watch and wait so very patiently, While others try to trick my roving eyes. I’m not fooled, as I wave away the flies, Concentrating on swirls and ripples, Not turtles and fish faking it with bubbles.   There! Deep ripples across the creek! Excitement makes my knees go weak. As I prepare myself and my camera I hear the chuckling of a kookaburra, And think, perhaps it’s laughing at me. But no!  How joyous to finally see…   My quarry right there in front, eye to eye. Click, click, click! Nonchalant and not shy, Happily posing for me before diving away. I’ll never forget the first time, a Monday, That I saw an ornithorhynchus anatinus , Maleny’s very own wonderful platypus!   © S Gillis 2023 (published Hinterland Times March 2023)

LEOTARD LUNACY They were excited as they gave me the card, “Choosing presents for you Mum, is always hard. But Dad says you’ll love this. It’s really great!” Now I was getting excited, I couldn’t wait. But I teased us a little by feeling the outside And wondering out loud what could be inside. “Money to buy something, just for me? Tickets to that show I’ve been dying to see? A voucher for gliding lessons I wanted to do?” “Better than that Darl, and it’s all for you.” So I opened it quickly, loving smile for him. Oh… Just what I wanted, 12 months at the gym. So here I sit, struggling on the Pec Deck Trying to ignore shooting pains in my neck. I move to the leg press, squatting down low, As usual, unsure where my feet are to go. Next is the shoulder press, most hated of all. With clenched jaw I curse, “Oh, yeah, having a ball.” No matter how often I force myself to go, My aging flesh will never, ever look (I know) Like that of tho...

It’s extremely rare to actually enjoy Travelling to your place of employ (Whether by bus, tram, car or train), Since common courtesy began to wane. It’s people who snuffle with whom  I  take issue. Surely to goodness they could carry a tissue? And malodorous people should surely desist From travel with others. I really insist! How I curse the man who invented the MP3; Just an invasive, pervasive musical tin can to me. Putting up with their racket is only for mugs So I praise the woman who invented ear plugs. Driving myself is not the preferred mode Because of the plethora of idiots using the road. It seems lack of road courtesy presents no bar To their having a licence or driving a car. Rudeness it seems is not confined to transport. Lack of respect for others is now a national sport. Those queue jumpers are a right royal pain too While you’re patiently waiting for food or the loo. ...

  My husband was very proud of his Christmas gift to me but I'm afraid I was not very happy about having a kitten in the house, pedigreed blue Burmese or not.  I had a new baby and a toddler so this cute ball of grey fluff seemed like too much hard work.  It occurred to me that she was going to be more trouble than the baby.  She had to be fed four times a day at first and came complete with suggested menu for those meals.  We named her Misty but that gradually became Bee because our toddler, Kara, couldn't pronounce "Misty". She was as cute as a button and wonderful but there were times we could have cheerfully strangled her. However, she turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to our family because if not for her, we might all be dead!  The children were three and four when one winter night she woke me, making a hell of a racket at our closed bedroom door.  She was scratching at the door, yowling and leaping up at the door handle...

       Whenever I see a news report of volcanic eruptions anywhere, I relive vivid memories of the terror my (now ex-) husband, Paul, and I suffered in 1979 in Indonesia, although it would seem our experience was mild in comparison to most reported eruptions.  That weekend in August promised to be an adventure; we had no idea just how close to death we would come. Along with three other Australian expatriates living in Jakarta, we signed up for a trip to Krakatoa,   west   of Java (the film title is wrong) in the Sundah Strait, arranged by the Diplomatic Club.  There were groups from all over the world on the tour, including Canada, France, Britain, USA, Germany and elsewhere and we were all eager to get a close look at the famous volcano. Krakatau, as it is known in Indonesia, erupted in August 1883 after 200 years of slumber, killing approximately 36,000 people.  It was a blast that “shook the world”, sending shock waves arou...

I am under siege! Every day I come under a constant barrage of complaints from my 13 year old daughter: "It's not fair. All my friends are doing/wearing/having/getting  it ." Last year “it” was getting a signet ring (heart-shaped, preferably with a red stone,  not  silver).  I daresay next year “it” will be something equally as earth-shattering to a girl of her age. At the moment, “it” refers to the wearing of make-up.  I might add that after watching her friends closely, I have found no evidence to support her claim that they’re  all  doing anything, except gang up on me.  One signet ring does not a sorority make. I intend to go down fighting, though.  I vow I will not succumb to the endless sniping.  It may be paltry ammunition but the tried and true “when I was your age...." will hold her off for a while and then I can trot out my favourite, “I’ll think about it”.  Recycling is the key to resistance. It has...

My favourite, summer holiday-spot in Queensland has been Caloundra on the Sunshine Coast, for as long as I can remember.  More particularly, Golden Beach, where my grandparents owned a beach shack.           Every Christmas we would pack up, along with various aunts, uncles and cousins, not forgetting of course grandad and grandma, meet up with more aunts, uncles and cousins and proceed to have a whale of a time.  At least, we kids had a whale of a time.  Apparently, that’s not quite how the adults remember it. Sometimes we’d go at Easter time but Christmas and those hot summers, complete with Christmas beetles and the buzz of cicadas, are the memories I recall most fondly.           It seems it was only we children who thoroughly enjoyed sleeping on the floor or camping downstairs; trooping off for another glorious day at the beach; counting the hours till Santa (or the Easter Bunny) deliv...

The article announced that Diana, an amazing US psychic, was to focus on Queensland at noon that Sunday.  If we readers were also to concentrate at noon, holding a spoon or fork, whilst staring into the eyes of the accompanying photograph of the psychic, we could discover our own powers. I devoured the story, soaking up the instructions and realised I would need to clear the house of all negative vibes. This meant my husband, The Great Sceptic, must be persuaded to go out with the children. I knew I would not be able to concentrate if I could feel his cynicism close at hand.  I cunningly discussed the idea of seeing a movie within earshot of the youngest and, true to form, after considerable nagging on her part, he caved and had the brilliant idea of taking the girls to the movies. By 11.45am I was sure I had everything ready.  I went over the instructions again, so I would be sure not to omit any important step.  As well as a sturdy, unbent spoon, on a ...