Returning to my birth- place has always been an interesting visitation. Now that my parents and Chris’ parents are dead, the town has lost much of its allure.
Tasmania remains special; as for me, people are more important than places. Coming from a large family there are many cousins and a few straggling aunts and one remaining uncle in the north of the island. Three of my siblings have migrated south to the beautiful capital of Hobart nestled between Mount Wellington as its backdrop and the water. Unfortunately this time I am not able to get south.
Devonport is on a river and the sea. My youngest brother and his wife are also going to meet me there, to celebrate my mother’s youngest sister’s 89th birthday. These days frailty is a concern with the older generation, so it’s good to be able to visit them, while we still can.
Angus, my youngest sibling, is Master of a ship that travels from Melbourne, Devonport to King Island. He has always loved the sea, and has made it his life’s work. He is ten years younger than me, and therefore able to keep me up with things that would otherwise pass straight over my head.
For instance: The Madam at East Devonport won Tattslotto. When she went to buy cars for her ‘girls’ she asked for 10 cars. The man didn’t believe her, and was a bit short with her. So, she went to the car place next door and bought ten pink cars. (Have forgotten the make). She then asked for enough petrol to drive passed the next door’s agency, showing off her new car. No doubt giving him the finger.
Angus picks up on such tidbits, so hopefully I’ll get some news for you, on my return at the end of the week. Have a good one!