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Happy birthday Globet

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It is no big secret.

Whenever I appraise all of my daughters who were born in 1982,
Inga always comes up as my favourite.

GOF’s childhood was one of simplicity, unburdened by material possessions because that is what life was like for everyone living in rural Australia immediately after World War 2.

Inga’s childhood was one of simplicity, unburdened by material possessions because GOF made a completely irrational decision to throw away a perfectly good job in a mining town nine months after she was born, to follow his dream of self-sufficiency in the wilderness.

But Inga and I have shared much more than that.
Something that many two-working-parent families have chosen to sacrifice in their quest to “accumulate and own all that stuff really quickly.”

We shared TIME together.  Lots of it.

Just for starters, over a period of 11 years we shared an aggregate 2700 hours together on a motor bike, slipping and sliding our way through the rainforest, sometimes in the most appalling weather conditions to and from the nearest school-bus stop 6 kilometres away.

We both also had a healthy amount of time alone to think about life and contemplate the world around us.  Inga’s young life was not constantly stuffed full of noise and invasive electronic media.

I have a list of qualities that I like to see in young women of the world.  One of the most important is the “Usefulness On The Farm Factor.”   This is a category in which Inga has excelled par excellence.
Planting and harvesting sweet potatoes and taro in rain, hail, shine or mud, or running up and down the mountain to operate the diesel irrigation pump, or catching grasshoppers inside the plant nursery (for which she charged me the exhorbitant fee of 5c per head).   Also;

Powering pleasure craft on the dam

and cleaning up after cyclones

Inga has always given me good reason to be proud of her behaviour and achievements.  Oh….except for that one time with the train driver that I’m not allowed to talk about here……but it’s not like he drove the train completely off the rails after his eyes almost popped out of his head, so that doesn’t count against her either.

Most of all I am happy to be the father of a compassionate human being.

Mrs GOF thinks that we won the Childbirth Lottery on June 5 1982.

A sentiment which I share, but in the light of recent evidence I did decide to confiscate the chainsaw and shotgun, just in case I had come to a premature, hasty and incorrect conclusion.

Recent evidence

Happy birthday to our dear Inga.

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About GOF

"Life is like a sewer. What you get out of it, depends upon what you put into it." (Tom Lehrer)

53 responses »

  1. Wheeee! Happy Birthday to Inga, just one year older than my oldest son! (ok, his birthday was June 9, 1983…but that’s pretty darn close)!

    What a happy childhood! It’s exactly the childhood I would have loved (and did love, when I was able to tromp about the forests of north Michigan)!

    LOL at the chainsaw!

    I’m feeling pretty safe waaaay over here! Happy Birthday again!

    Reply
  2. Happy Birthday, Inga! How an intelligent, lovely young woman got stuck with a father like GOF is mysterious to me. 😀

    I KID! You know that, I hope, GOF! But really, it’s a mystery to me that after all the blunders I made as a parent, my children turned out well enough. Our daughters and sons are a gift to us: as I get older I see that more and more. You and Mrs. GOF certainly won the Child Lottery.

    Reply
  3. Awww, thank you Daddy. I’m very grateful for all that TIME, and always will be. But don’t think there’s not going to be payback for those photos.

    And had you seen me last night, you’d probably have reason to suspect your lottery winnings had depreciated somewhat over 29 years.

    Reply
    • A little depreciation is par for the course.
      Just look at me! 🙂

      Reply
      • It’s National Depreciation Month. Depreciate whomever you please!

        Reply
        • I’d like to depreciate Paul McCartney and Sir Cliff Richard and Victoria Principal. People of their age have no right to look so young.

          Reply
          • What’s the story of Globet’s nickname, GOF?

            Reply
            • Lauri I’m going to answer that before GOF steps in and makes up some stupid rubbish. It’s just a shortened version of ‘Globetrotter’ – I went to Japan after I finished high school and was convinced I was going to be some jetsetting, multilingual star. These days you couldn’t pay me to leave the country, and “mucho tequila, por favor” is as multilingual as I get. It’s all a bit ironic, really.

              Reply
              • Thanks for that info, Inga! I am sure that GOF would have gone completely off the deep end with his explanation. Why do I think that? Hmmm…..I dunno! 😉

                I trotted the globe for a few years, too, but the last five or so I have been quite happy to stay at home. All of the phases of life are good. Hopefully I’ll be trotting again before too long!

                Reply
  4. You must not read her blog …

    lol

    Happy birthday, Inga … it’s still the 5th here.

    Reply
  5. Damn! A day late… but happy birthday Inga. We both hope you had a great day. Play up wonderfully, fellow Geminian :0) (Sorry GOF).

    Reply
  6. Happy joyous and filled-with-cake Birthday, Inga. You had the *right* kind of childhood, too bad you missed sitting on a couch littered with twinkies, staring like a crack addict at video games for twelve years, but oh well, you’ll recover.

    Me, I’m glad my mom insisted we spend summers at a no-tv cottage on the beaches of New Hampshire, and the rest of the summer I spent at horse camp. I count both of us as the lucky ones. As a result we love hard work, we love challenges and we know our parents loved us as well to make sure we grew up as such.

    Cheers, woman.

    Reply
    • Amen and cheers, Emmy. I don’t think parenting is an easy gig at all, and I’m frequently amazed at how kids with a less-than-brilliant childhood can grow up to be fantastic human beings. Me, I’d be complete shithead if it wasn’t for my olds. High five for parents that don’t f*** you up, amirite?

      And oh my god, HORSE CAMP!!! I’m so jealous.

      Reply
      • Oops sorry GOF, I’m swearing more on your blog than I do on my own. I’m getting old and cantankerous.

        Reply
        • Hahaha! Old and cantankerous. Nope, that’s probably some other guys we know!

          I love the pic of you and the happy cat!

          Btw, I don’t think f*** is really swearing. Parents that don’t fish you up?

          lol at amirite!

          Reply
      • Furthermore, where are you and why am I replying to all your blog comments?

        Reply
        • I’m sitting back in a lounge chair with a glass of port, and YOU are currently setting a wonderful precedent.
          From now on I’ll write the bull**** (**** you are becoming a very bad influence) and you can then respond to everyone.

          By doing this I can ration my battery power and contribute more to distillery industries. WIN WIN

          Reply
      • High five, Sister!! Alright and bloody brilliant (is that okay? We’re not in England, right?)

        Cloverdale, as it was known, was located in the forests of New Hampshire and taught girls archery, arts and crafts, and we had an in-ground pool that glowed green at night. Midnight swims – heaven. At 6:30 am we were expected to be on time for breakfast or go hungry until lunch. At 7 we reported to the barn and did all the labor – cleaning the stalls, brushing and feeding horses, etc. Then we got to do the horseback riding. Too much fun. And taught me the skills I use today to care for animals.

        Reply
  7. What a beautiful post, GOF.

    Reply
  8. Happy belated birthday Inga. Must be time for you to spill the beans on parenting GOF style.

    Reply
    • Thank you Peter! And it wouldn’t be in my best interests to elaborate on GOF’s parenting skills while he still has the mental facilities to cut off my inheritance.

      Reply
      • Very good point thou makest about the inheritance Glob.

        Now I’ve got to go and encourage some white-anting within Peter McHorsham’s family. 🙂

        Reply
  9. Happy birthday, Inga! BTW, my mom always calls me her “favorite daughter,” even though I’m an only child…

    Reply
    • Cheers Kim…I’m glad I’m not the only one, then. These parent-types clearly aren’t as original as they like to believe.

      Reply
  10. Happy birthday, Inga! Your dad is certainly something, isn’t he? Between his world travels and historical studies, how did he have time to tame the Australian wilderness? Or was that what you spent your childhood doing while he was gadding about learning history and collecting bits of slander about roosters named Roger? 😀

    Reply
    • Thank you Auntie B! Yes he definitely is “something”…and yes, he made me toil for days on end without food and made me sleep in a barn. The only reason I’m still talking to him is in case I need a kidney one day.

      Reply
  11. Little late, but Happy Birthday Inga. So happy you survived your Dad’s parenting!

    Reply
  12. I’m late to the party, but happy birthday to Inga. I think “time” is the most precious thing we can give our children. Inga’s childhood sounds a lot like my own (only 20+ years later and with some modern conveniences) – I have a lot of great memories of the early years with my dad – and I’m a great tractor driver!

    Reply

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