Get the goat

My dad has been unwell so the youngest and I drove up to Newcastle to visit him in hospital on Saturday.

We took a pasta bake with us for lunch with my mum afterwards and the conversation turned to how much my grandmother loved animals.

My mum recalled being gifted a miniature long-haired daschund by a friend for her 18th birthday.

But the moment Mikey laid eyes on my Nan he never left her side.

A few years later, my mum was given another puppy as a wedding present … My father was dead set against pets, so Nan took in a second dog, called Choo Choo.

My childhood holidays with my grandparents were filled with memories of Mikey and Choo Choo and endless other animals.

Nan and Pop would feed magpies on their back step every morning and generation after generation of their babies would arrive each spring.

Nan bought my sister and I three ducklings one school holidays (who turned out to be geese, but that’s another story) and another school holidays there were guinea pigs.

She rescued and nurtured injured birds.

Along the way she also inherited a white cockatoo called George.

But what she really wanted was goat. I can’t remember why she was so keen on getting a goat, but it was a deep yearning. She had enough space for a goat, living on a quarter acre block, but never got one.

I look back and wonder why she didn’t chase the dream and get the goat.

Life is short.

I am feeling my mortality quite keenly at the moment. And my heart says if you want a goat, get the damn goat.

I don’t want a goat, cute as their kids may be.

I wish I knew what it is that I DO want, but I know it’s time to change things up.

Life feels very get-up-walk-the-dogs-go-to-work-go-home-walk-the-dogs-go-to-bed-get-up …

I need a new purpose, a new source of joy, a new reason to fling myself with open arms into every day.

I am 57 and the number of years I have left, like the daylight hours as we approach winter, is growing shorter.

Especially the healthy ones.

What no one tells you about approaching 60 is how many “I can beat that” conversations you will have with people about their parents being in – or trying to get into – hospital/rehab/respite/nursing homes.

Good health is a very precious thing.

As for my new purpose, I will let you know when I decide what it is.

In the meantime, my Easter was a whirl of seeing my dad and DD’s mum, who has also been in hospital, and wishing I could go for a soothing swim in the ocean, but the waves were too high.

I finally scored a quick, soothing dip late yesterday afternoon.

DD and I also went to see Boom Crash Opera on Sunday night, who were their usual awesome selves.

My friend Lara and I stood watching lead singer Dale Ryder perform and marvelled that we were phwoaring over a 70-year-old man.

Didn’t see that coming.

He is seriously hot at 70.

Can you spot me in the crowd?

Live music is a great reason to fling yourself into a day with your arms wide open. I would love to travel the world seeing all my favourite bands play live one last time before they retire.

Hope your weekend was a good one.

Gotta get up – crazy few days ahead.

Song of the day: Boom Crash Opera “Hands up in the air”