'And I somehow rather fancy that I'd like to change with Clancy,
Like to take a turn at droving where the seasons come and go,'

From “Clancy of the Overflow” by A.B. “Banjo” Patterson

When I look back on my life, like most people, it is the big events which immediately come to mind — the events which appear in newspaper classifieds, the 'Hatched, Matched and Dispatched' as my Mum used to put it. Of course these 'big events' are only a small proportion of our lives, how could we cope if it were otherwise? John and I enjoyed our lives together — he was 'The Boss' and I was 'The Missus' and we were both content that it was so. I sometimes think that part of the reason that I loved being a woman was that I had a long and at times hard journey to make my body match my mind, and so I treasured my femininity. Perhaps I am old-fashioned but most of the time I wore skirts and dresses and even stockings except at the hottest times of the year. I always wore make-up and made sure my hair was brushed and neat. When John returned home from a hard day in the saddle, I was always there to greet him, his woman looking her best for him, and he appreciated that. I don't claim to be a 'domestic goddess', but there was always a nutritious, and as he always said, a delicious meal awaiting him. In bed, as the years passed by, we might no longer enjoy the fierce passion of our early days together, but our love-making was still a source of delight to both of us.

We were respected members of the local community, and on several occasions were guests of honour at local debutante balls. It was always enjoyable to see the young people — the girls in their white dresses and their partners, sometimes looking a little uncomfortable with their first experience of wearing a suit, and a dinner suit at that, as they paraded down the hall and were presented to us. Young people today are often unfairly criticised thanks to the actions of a few, but when I saw these youngsters, I felt nothing but optimism for the future of this country.

Five years passed by peacefully without any big events as the seasons came and went. I kept in regular touch with Marie in England. When we had last seen them we had suggested they might like to visit us in Australia, but they had not mentioned it and so we did not pursue it. Then one February evening I had a phone call from Marie, and immediately I suspected it might be something significant.

“Lesley! I thought I'd ring you. Michael and I have been discussing it for some time and we would like to make that trip to Australia you mentioned years ago.”

“Oh that's great news Marie,” I said “We will so look forward to seeing you. When are you thinking of coming out?”

“Well, the children are at school of course, so the best time would be their summer holidays, between the last week in July and the end of August.”

“That would be for about five weeks then. I would suggest you fly to Brisbane and I could pick you up in the Cessna, and after you've got over your jet-lag you would probably want to go and see places like Brisbane and Sydney, or anywhere else that takes your fancy. Whether you want to explore them on your own or have me along as a guide is up to you. At least by using the Cessna, I could take you to places more quickly."

“We feel quite excited about it already, especially the children.” Marie said. “They're pouring over maps, and I've had to explain how big Australia is and that they can't do day trips to places like Ayers Rock!”

I laughed at that. "Most people, even when they look at a map of Australia, have no real idea of the distances involved, I'm glad to hear you are being realistic”

I told John about it and he was equally enthusiastic about seeing them again. The months flew by and in what seemed no time at all, I was preparing to fly down to Brisbane to pick them up. To the children, the thought of flying in Aunty Lesley's aeroplane was more exciting than the long trip they had just completed in the 'Jumbo' jet. Unlike their parents, they were still very much wide awake and thrilled at being in a plane 'just for them'. Michael junior was allowed to sit in the co-pilot's seat and watched fascinated as I went through the pre-flight routine and got clearance for take-off. I was reminded so much of myself the first time I had flown in Steve's aeroplane after my surgery.

We took off and turned inland, climbing to ten thousand feet, and young Michael was full of questions. I explained how I was controlling the aircraft with the control column and rudder controls. Eventually I let him hold the control column for a while, although as I explained he couldn't really fly an aircraft until he grew tall enough to reach all of the controls. Nevertheless, I was impressed by how gently he handled the controls. It takes an experienced pilot to see potential in someone, and when Michael solemnly declared that he would learn to fly one day, I had no doubt that he would do just that. By now I was an assistant instructor at Steve's flying school, and there were plenty of adults who handled a plane much worse than he did.

We landed at the Station and John was waiting to greet them and take us to the homestead. They were quite fascinated by our lifestyle since it is usually the way Australia is portrayed in films and television. I had to point out that the vast majority of Australians live in the suburbs of the big towns and cities. They were also amazed when they realised just how big our property was, knowing that English farms are only a fraction of the size.

After five days, I flew them to Brisbane and we spent a couple of days looking around the city, which was still similar to a large country town in those days. Michael and Marie had decided they would take the train to Sydney to see some of the countryside from ground level and then have a good look around Sydney and from there go on to Canberra. I told them to ring me if they had any queries, but I felt they would be alright on their own. I did mention that like all big cities, Sydney had areas like Kings Cross which were not suitable to wander around after dark. The main thing was to keep in well-lit and well populated areas. After they had seen Canberra and anywhere else they fancied and were ready to come back, they should contact me and I would fly down to pick them up.

When they contacted me to come and get them, it was some days later than I expected, so obviously they were having a good time. Chatting in the plane on the way back they told me they had had a wonderful time, and their only regret was that time was running out and they had to return to England soon. John came down with me when I flew them back to Brisbane to take the Jumbo back to Britain, and we were sad to see them go. The thought crossed my mind that if they had had such a good time they might even consider emigrating, but it didn't happen. Michael had a very large and close-knit family, and Marie's parents were still alive, so I think they felt it was too much of a wrench to leave all the people they knew and loved, and come to a country where they only knew two people. I could understand that. When I first came to Australia, every face I saw was a new face, and it took a while for me to settle in. Other people who have emigrated have told me the same thing.

The years passed by. Both Michael and Evelyn did well at school. Michael had decided to follow in his father's footsteps and become an aeronautical engineer. Evelyn planned to become a physiotherapist. When he was nineteen, Michael started to train as a pilot, and he proudly sent me a picture taken after his first solo flight. He asked if I remembered the times I had let him hold the control column when they visited Australia? I wrote back offering my congratulations and saying that indeed I did remember, and even at that time I had no doubt he would become a pilot once he was old enough.

Marie wrote to me that her handsome son had gone through a string of girlfriends but presumably he would one day find the right girl for him.

A Wedding Invitation

It was 1995 when Michael was twenty three that Marie wrote excitedly to say that he was engaged. The girl's name was Sarah. She was smart and pretty, and Michael was head over heels in love. This was definitely 'the' girl. She had studied physiotherapy with Evelyn which was how he met her. Six months later came the wedding invitation. I was so excited and ran to show it to John. I was a little surprised by his muted response.

“Why that's wonderful!”, he said “I'm sure you'll want to go.”

“Well, I want us to go darling.” I replied.

“It's a long way,” he replied “I wonder if I'm really up to it again.”

It as at that moment that I had to face something I either hadn't noticed or had deliberately ignored. My wonderful man was starting to feel his age. He was now sixty-nine and I was forty-five. I took his hand in mine and pressed it to my lips.

“I don't have to go darling,” I said. “I'm sure they'll send us some photos, and we can send them a nice present.”

“I'll think about it,” John said “But you must go. I insist.”

A couple of days later John spoke about the wedding invitation again.

“I've been thinking about it,” he said “I think we should both go. After all 'We're a long time dead' as the saying goes.”

As is the way of women the world over, of course I now started thinking of reasons why we shouldn't go, but John would have none of it, so instead I worked out a compromise. We decided that we would make the trip easier by stopping over for a couple of days in Singapore and Dubai, and time our arrival for a week before the wedding, so we had time to get over jet-lag. We would travel first-class which would give us the most comfortable seating. We wouldn't go on any big tours of the countryside, maybe a few day trips around Bath, and we would return to Australia about a week after the wedding. This seemed like the best compromise.

This is what we did, and it did indeed give us both a much more restful trip. I admit that we were fortunate in being able to afford to travel Business, or in this case First Class. Having seen the relatively cramped conditions in Economy, I can well understand that on such a long trip as travelling to Europe it must be exhausting. The stopovers also gave us a chance to rest between legs of the journey, and we felt a definite advantage and less jet-lag when we arrived in Britain.

Marie had kindly offered to have us stay at their house which had a spare room since Michael had moved out into his own apartment some time ago. In view of all the wedding preparations we thought that was adding too much to her and Michael's already busy schedule, but we did say that if it suited them, we would stay with them after the wedding, thinking that they might well feel a bit flat once all the excitement was over.

The day after we arrived, we met Michael's fiancée Sarah and she really was a most charming girl. We had lunch with them and also Michael's sister Evelyn who was one of the bridesmaids. It turned out that Sarah had lived in Melbourne for three years when she was a child. Her parents had emigrated when her father was offered a job in an Australian branch his company had started up, but unfortunately it had not been a success and closed down. Although he had settled well, her mother had not, so they returned to England. Sarah still remembered her three years in Australia as a happy time.

Sarah said “Actually, Michael and I have discussed emigrating as a possibility, so don't be surprised if you hear from us!”

I was cautious in my reply “Well of course Australia can always do with more qualified professionals, but I cannot advise you on what you should do. It could be hard on your families to have you move to the other side of the world so there are a lot of things for you to weigh up.”

Michael smiled “Don't worry Aunty Lesley. If we do decide to emigrate we'll make sure our families know it is our decision and you played no part by encouraging us.”

I was grateful for that because I would hate my great relationship with Marie to be spoilt if she thought I had somehow lured her son away from England.

This was on the Monday, and the wedding was on the Saturday, so we didn't see them again until we were in the church in Bath for the ceremony. Dear John had insisted I buy a new dress for the wedding. I was reluctant after the extra expenses of our trip, but when a man insists on such things, what's a girl to do? The dress was of a deep blue satin and totally gorgeous.

When we were dressed and ready to be taken by taxi to the church, John took my hands in his and said “Darling, I don't know how you do it, but you are even more beautiful now than you were twenty years ago.”

I blushed of course, which might seem ridiculous for a woman of forty-five, but it's something I've never been able to overcome. I looked up at him and said “And you my darling are as handsome now as you were the day I first met you and fell in love with you.” And it was true of course. We both laughed and John said “And we still behave like a couple of teenagers!”

We took our allotted place in the church, just one row back from Marie and Michael. Michael junior stood at the front with his best man and grooms-men, looking resplendent in a dinner suit and also slightly nervous. When the 'Wedding March' began he couldn't help sneaking a peak as Sarah, a vision in white slowly walked up the aisle on her father's arm. Stupid though it is, I can never attend a wedding without a tiny pang of jealousy that such a ceremony was denied John and I, but it only lasted for a moment.

It was a lovely warm sunny day as we all gathered outside the church afterwards for the traditional photographs, and showering the happy couple in confetti. The whole event was recorded on video and a copy sent to us in due course. At the reception, during his speech, Michael made special mention of 'Aunty Lesley and Uncle John who had come half-way around the world to be present on this special occasion'. He also mentioned how he had first handled the controls of an aircraft when I had let him hold the control column of our Cessna.

After the cutting of the cake, the dancing started, and John and I took to the dance floor, something we hadn't done in quite a while. It was so lovely to be held in his arms and moving together in time with the music. I was pleased that the reception didn't go too late and after we waved off the happy couple in their car, tin cans tied to the rear bumper bar and rattling away, we took a taxi back to the hotel and were asleep in no time.

The next day, I phoned Marie to ask how things were there and she said “You will come and stay with us for a few days won't you? We're feeling a bit deflated now the excitement is all over.”

“Of course we will,” I replied, and we packed our things and checked out of the hotel. Michael came in his car to pick us up.

“Thanks so much for doing this,” he said “I confess that like most men I played only a minor part in the wedding, but for Marie it was 'full on' for months and now she's feeling really flat. It will do her the world of good to have you stay with us.”

It was indeed exactly the right thing to do and after a few days Marie herself thanked us for getting her over the 'post wedding blues'.

“You'll be seeing plenty of them I'm sure,” I said “And after a while who knows — maybe the patter of little feet?”

Marie laughed “I'll certainly enjoy baby-sitting,” she said.

Michael took us on a number of short one-day excursions to places of interest. One day we saw Stonehenge, Salisbury with its magnificent cathedral and Old Sarum, the Iron Age hill fort that preceded the later city. Another day we went to Lacock, a village frozen in the nineteen century where the cars look out of place, and visited the abbey — home of the photography pioneer William Fox Talbot. From there we went to Avebury to see its massive stone circle that dwarfs Stonehenge, and nearby Silbury Hill, that mysterious artificial mound, the largest in Europe, yet no-one knows its purpose. It was truly amazing that all these fascinating places were only a short distance from Bath. A longer drive was to Swansea, home of the poet Dylan Thomas, and then to Laugharne to see the boathouse where he wrote a number of works and which is now a museum.

In between each of these trips we had a day off, since I was determined not to tire John too much. Our return flight was booked for ten days after the wedding, and Michael very kindly drove us to Heathrow with Marie coming along to see us off. When we were alone she took the opportunity to ask me if we might be coming to England again.

“I honestly don't know, Marie. John is starting to feel his age and was originally in two minds if he would come to the wedding. No doubt you noticed that we didn't exert ourselves too much on this trip. We stopped over twice on the way over and we'll spend a couple of days in Hong Kong on the way back.”

Marie smiled “I suppose the truth of the matter is that we are all getting older.”

Our trip back was uneventful and within a few days of arriving back at the homestead we felt fully recovered from jet-lag.