Laughter - Blogoff Post # 1

My mother knew how to laugh. Big belly laughs that could rock a whole row of cinema seats. Her chuckles were like a minor earthquake, measuring on the Richter scale.

I miss my mother so much. I miss her wicked sense of humour, her smile and her laugh. I'm ashamed that I was so embarrassed by her as a teenager because now I can think of no happier sound than my mother's laughter. Mum enjoyed and loved life, and wanted to share that enjoyment with everyone: check-out chicks, the neighbours she bumped into down the street, the cats, the dogs, the cockatoo and especially her family.

Mum didn't learn to drive until I was 13 years old. But once she gained her licence and her independence, there was no holding her back. She loved driving, deliberately weaving or kangaroo hopping down a quiet street - just for fun - and she relished the opportuniity to get lost, take the long way round and discover new places along the way.

Driving gave her the opportunity to try new things. She took up cooking classes and prepared culinary banquests in several cuisines. She took oil painting lessons for a few years but she found her talent in cake decorating, churning out wedding cakes, christening cakes, cakes for any occasion.

For Dad's 50th birthday, she made a pick-up truck cake with a 'load of hot cock' because that was one of his favourite sayings at the time. The tray was filled with chocolate penises, and a pair symbolised the wipers. The sight of the cake was a catalyst of laughter for the party guests and this photo is a permanent reminder of my mum's wicked sense of humour.


So now in my first blog-off post for boobs, I've mentioned breasts and hot cocks, so I guess I'll get a few hits from the raincoat brigade. So while you're here, gentlemen, show your appreciation for the female body and follow the link to make a donation for breast cancer research!

In Memorium - my mum Judith 30.04.49 - 12.11.97

Today it is nine years since Mum passed away. I have already written a tribute during Pink for October here. But I thought I would add a few more thoughts about my mum today.

Driving

Mum learned to drive when I was 13. Her first car was a beat-up old Audi with no guts, and until recently, I did not realise that an Audi was a prestige motor vehicle. She wasn't game enough to drive across Gladesville Bridge because the car had no power. Her next car was a VW and she used to kangaroo hop down the street in it (on purpose) and wind down the road. She rarely looked up how to get anywhere - I think she enjoyed losing her way. And she'd turn left when I told her to turn right. But getting her licence was the best thing she could've done because it opened up a whole new world for her.

Mice

It started when I was about 6. Mum had a couple of mice. And the mice multiplied and multiplied. So when she was pregnant with my sister, the mice were farmed off and she started collecting ornamental mice instead. It was always so easy to buy her a present, and there are still times when I go into a gift shop, see a gorgeous mouse ornament, and think mum would love that. Here is part of her collection - the ornaments I gave her over the years, now back on display in my living room.

Cakes
Mum was a marvellous cake decorator and president of her local cake decorating guild. She always had one or two cakes on the go, but one of the favourites that she made for me was this dragon cake. When I turned 27, I decided to have a 7 year old birthday party, and we all played kids games and ate chocolate crackles. It was a lot of fun for both the pretend kids and the real kids and mum made me a dragon cake for the occasion.

Painting
Mum painted this picture for me when I was about fifteen from a photo that a friend had taken. The painting has hung in my bedroom in many different dwellings since then, and now has pride of place in the lounge room.

Animals
Our house was a menagerie when I was growing up. Dogs, cats, birds (including Chook the cockatoo), chooks, fish, even a baby lamb at one time. Whenever there was a stray, it would land on our doorstep and find a home. It's not a tradition I've carried on. I'm happy with my singular cat Dorkus, and he is also happy with the status quo.

Mum was always fun and lightened up any room she walked into. She didn't judge people and took everyone on face value. All the neighbourhood kids wanted to hang around for her friendship, her cooking and her love. It was a sad day nine years ago when the light was turned off, far to early, for the bright light that was my mum.