Day 24

I’m moving away from pigeons today so as to commemorate mum on her birthday. Unfortunately we aren’t able to celebrate in person (yet), nor can I give a speech. Though I can at least tell a tale: well over ten years ago, Mum and Co. went on a lengthy overseas trip to The States. I was living in Perth at the time and from my weekly chats with Ma knew that one of my older siblings was looking after the house. Specifically, two prized high standard camellia plants that sat in large sandstone pots in the backyard. Be it from pinning Ma, jealous of not being taken abroad or not receiving enough liquids, one of the Camellias decided it was time. Causing much disruption and heartache on the return of the trip. Possibly to the extent that the dead Camillia was pushed over and left slightly unearthed, it’s pot split in two. After a few weeks and leading into December, Ma decided to transform the dead remains into a Christmas decoration: first, removing the remaining stick structure from the broken pot, hacking at and cutting back the root system, placing it in a smaller pot weighed down with rocks, spray painted the stem and branches white and finally wrapped it in fairy lights. It was placed in the formal dining room ready for Christmas Lunch. Arriving in Canberra a few days prior to Christmas, Mum told me to have a look at the latest decor. After looking I walked up to Mum: “Ma, your tree’s spouting” - “Matt, don’t make such jokes.” - “No, Mum, seriously your tree is sprouting, come take a look.” - and so forth, until finally she followed me into the dining room, where the white spray-painted branches, luminated by flashing fairy lights, were indeed sprouting. After Christmas the plant was repotted and made a full recovery, albeit white. Sadly I’ve not the same green thumb. Happy 60th Birthday Mum, because of you I have something to celebrate everyday.