Raindrops are falling on my head

The bug saga continues. This week we were driving to Hamilton when suddenly I saw a huge cockroach crawl out from under the driver's seat and across Barry's stomach. Should I whack it with my bare hand? No, that would not only be gross and messy but would stain Barry's nice clean shirt... and I would have to clean yukky goo off my hands. Yuk. I thought I might lean down and grab my sandal but that brought up its own problem, what would people think if they saw me slapping my husband's body in a frenzied attack with my shoe? What did I do? I watched it crawl across his stomach and down between the seats and then I told Barry that he had been the host to a creature from the deep dark depths of the car. We never leave food in the car so there is little to no food for it to consume and we hoped that it might just climb out and go to find greener pastures of its own accord. But just in case it doesn't, I have purchased a bug bomb. Usually, I would set these horrible things off in the house to kill off fleas in the carpet ... thank you cats. But I have never set one off in the car. Well, there is a first time for everything. Cockroaches be warned, I am on the warpath. Just as I was considering all my options of pest control, we were stopped at the booze bus. "Please state your name and address into this device.... thank you sir, you may proceed on your way." Just one of the ways our tax dollars are in use, but I was really thankful that I hadn't been caught with sandal in hand in pursuit of bugs. Can you just imagine the conversation I might have had with the policeman? Family violence, anger management and maybe even assault? Good grief I might have ended up with a criminal record all thanks to a creepy crawly. Can't afford a court case at the moment ... well really at any moment it would be inconvenient ... but we are off across the ditch to Australia in a few short weeks to visit friends in Melbourne and I would hate to cancel the trip because of a bug.

When we were young. Oh goodness, that sounds just like my Gran! Well when I was young my cousin, David Mason said that amongst the cousins I was considered the one most likely to succeed. Gee, what conversations were they having at age 8? I was definitely not having the same sort of chats. It was all about games and food at that age for me. Anyhow, Dave told me that they had all watched to see what I would do with my life. Again ... 8 years old?? I could barely get my head around school let alone analyse cousins potential lives. So, when I chose to be a stay-at-home Mom to five children I had apparently disappointed not only my parents but also the cousin contingent. Over the years I have wondered what my life would have been like if I had become a doctor or a lawyer. But is that what success really is? Raising 4 great children into kind, considerate functioning adults who eat their veges without complaint must surely be considered a success. (All right I know you have noticed I said only 4 children had become adults and I mentioned 5 children, well that is because one of our children died young) In this world what is considered a successful adult? I had a school friend, Louis, who did become a doctor. He was fantastic. He would breeze through the wards at the hospital at 5 am bright as a button and asking patients how they were doing. Even when you were not technically his patient! I know this because when I was in hospital after giving birth, he would come and chat and sometimes snack on my stash of liquorice that kind visitors had brought me.(At five in the morning, I was not really in the mood to eat liquorice, but hey, it was great to spend time with a friend) And no, he was not my doctor, but just a lovely man. I looked at Louis and thought is that what success is all about. Being good at what you do in life and enjoying it. Sadly 25 years ago he bought himself a high-performance sports car and took it for a drive with his brother-in-law ... and never came home. Too many good friends have died over the years before their time.

My husband says he has no idea what success is to others. For him, it is being happy that his vegetable seeds sprout and with what he has achieved in life. No success can compensate for failure in the home is his credo. If you have a great career but a rotten life at home, it's not really a success. He has a friend who loves the planning part of his job and is really good at it, but when it comes to actually completing the job, he fails. Instead of thinking that he is an ideas man and being happy with that, he judges himself a failure because he cannot do the grunt work that will see his dreams come to fruition. I think success is being happy with what you have and not yearn for things long gone.

So as I put my feet up and enjoy the rain on the roof and listen to my husband as he scrolls through photos from last year I grieve for Louis my friend, I miss my cousins and think of all the fun I have had through my life. Barry has now given up looking at photos and is dashing around the garden, in the pouring rain, picking tomatoes, squash and pawpaws and calling out to me to come and look at the latest crop. No, success for me is not getting soaked while peering into grapevines and apple trees. It's more about gumboots and umbrellas! And killing off cockroaches!