REFLECTING ON IT ALL

Now then, what am I going to do today?

'A Knowing Old Bird'  by  Trish

The problem is, there's no point in doing anything.

If I do get up, it means I have to do something,

that's only logical. And then, if I do something,

it only has to be done again. - maybe not right away,

of coarse, but eventually around it comes again,

beggin to be done.

Aaah well,  first I'll stretch meself . Cripes those sheets are

cold on me bleedin feet. That's better.

 Now a big yawn, hm, that feels good. 

I'll open me eyes soon, but not just yet. 

It's funny the way some people

view rest and activity, funny in a lot of ways. 

My mother reckons my father had no peace in him,

reckons he was forever figgitin.

Tappin tacks in here and screwin things into this and that.

But, I enjoyed it. In fact, it was the best part of Sunday.

I can recall it as clear, as if it was happenin now and not,

as in fact it is, a whole life time ago.

There he'd be, sittin on an old mallee root in the backyard, 

surrounded by all his old tools, and a new one now and again.

I recall my mother saying over and over, 

'your father never finishes anything he starts'.I could go on forever,

with the things she said about the poor old fellow, 

all complaints mind you, but I can hardly

think of a thing he said, about her, or anyone else for that matter.

I'll open me eyes soon, but not just yet.

Yes it's funny the way people view rest and activity,

funny in a lot of ways.

Tushie