MARCH 31 2011: Day no 90 of 2011 : And being home, memory becomes a passion. A.D. Hope.


Hurrell Sisters

Memory becomes a passion.  Its 3.34pm now. I have been out for lunch with a young friend. At her house in the trees. Its made of stone and timbers. Lets sit down now on the Bench and have a Yaan about being Home again and the passion for memory that has come with that.

The ladies above are the HURRELL SISTERS. The one down the front on our left, well that’s Lucy Jane, my father’s grandmother. They are not in my conscious memory. They lived a bit south of here on the Macleay River.

Map picture

There is a storm rumbling around. It seems to be coming up from the South. I’m going to mind the stone and timber house for a few weeks. And a very large dog. When I decided to come home to the Bellingen Shire last year. I knew there was a baby coming but I didn’t know there was a sister leaving.

A year into being Home and Memories are with me. I remember a lot of storms. The wild ones of 1974 and the ones that ripped along the SOUTH ARM ROAD in 1995. The memory coming to mind is of Uncle Jim and the big eagle in Laurieton. I don’t know why it’s a vision that sticks with me and I don’t know the details and I am not even quite sure who Uncle Jim was but I was mightily impressed with the eagle with the huge wing span. When I went north to the Tweed the raptors were one of the captivating things for me. I liked the sugar cane and the cane fires and the river.

The News just came on TV and they say that petrol  could hit $2 a litre. That would be a bummer. In the 1970s – I used to say ‘ fill er up’ and they would do so for $2.

One of my intentions for 2011 is to do some more remembering. Passion is absorbed somewhat in grief at the moment but I shall initiate the re-membering anyhows. One reason for doing that is to assimilate my 6 decades and not become stuck into the land of Useter Be. I rather fancy moving through the rest of this decade with a bit of a sashay. Maybe not a sashay.  I just looked at the sashay videos and its not quite what I have planned for the rest of this year. Perhaps a cake walk or a Pride of Erin or something more Australian. Let me take another look and Grandma and the Aunts and see how they might have moved when wearing the world lightly.  They don’t actually look like they would wear the world too lightly but they might well have danced the Pride of Erin. I was taught it at school in the 1960s in N.S.W.

I think I would prefer to move something like this :

I am fairly sure I have not one chance at all of moving like these exquisite movers but the essence of how I wish to move on is someplace in the Bangarra legacy.

But those days are passed as well. I have a vision. A standing one legged in the shallows with a fishing line in hand and little fish swimming about. Don’t want to catch anything.