AKA that annoying awesome sister of mine – Justine, who had a big birthday recently! I’ve been AWOL from here for over a month because I’m making her a rather large photo brag book. It should come in handy as her memory is no doubt starting to go.
(Mosey this is your abbreviated bonus digital version as a multi- kilo hardcover book will no doubt hamper your nomadic lifestyle.)
(Plus I haven’t finished the book yet.)
(And it’s also for Mum but **WARNING MUM** certain sections may not be entirely suitable for parental supervision.)
So: Where Did Mosey Come From?
I first knew her as “Din”.
… I was only 13 months old when we were introduced and the whole “Justine” thing was too damn hard. Still is! I have a whole bunch of other names I prefer to call her.
She has operated under several pseudonyms, including “Oddjob”, which Dad always called her (after the Bond villain who decapitated people with a bowler hat), “Dusty” (in the 1980s this term hadn’t yet come into popular use as a slang term for hung over – at least, not that I was aware, since I didn’t get hung over much in the eighties. I was in primary school after all) and “Poobum” (general description).
And she’s always been known to my boys as “Mosey”, thanks to my codename-bestowing husband. I don’t think they even realised that wasn’t her real name until Finn was nearly four.
Carnarvon’s a little desert oasis at the end of the Gascoyne River on the West Australian coast. Has a main street so wide you need a packed lunch to cross it. When the pub closed at midnight the whole pub could walk down the middle of the road and the local taxi service would hardly notice. Unless it was a really busy night and both the taxis were on.
… who after a year or so of undivided parental adoration was shown a small red person and informed it was her “little sister”.
She was much more fun when I could sit on her, kick her dolly up and down the passageway to make her cry, have tea parties, fight, build cubbies, play dress-ups, that sort of thing.
Mosey’s always looked up to me, and it’s obvious why – she’s short.
But she also obviously adored and worshipped me. I tolerated her quite easily, cos she’s pretty cool.
Our little ol’ house. There’s the window of the tiny bedroom we shared for nearly twenty years. The big unfenced lawn out the back for our DIY tarp tents for sleepovers. Big tamarisk trees for climbing and swinging in, and on three sides lots of dirt roads for hooning on with our bikes. The Indian Ocean a mere three minute sand dune dash away.
(Over to the right is where I dropped that metal manhole cover on your foot that time and your big toe went a funny shape and colour and eventually the nail came off.) (Still sorry!!)
The Sargent Family – The Early Years.
(*I went through these photos with the boys and Finn says to me, “Mummy, why does your hair look like that?” … Dunno… I think I must’ve just given up on it.)
Do you remember…?
The famous treehouse!
The famous causeway*!
(*for non-fambly ie the only road to town from Babbage Island, crossing the – usually -dry bed of the Gascoyne River. On the odd occasion the river came down we were stranded. No school!!)
“Our” jetty! (ie the prawning jetty).
All those Saturday mornings at Naval Cadets! Pissfarting around in sailboats and tinnies. (Hey were you there when Brownie was hooning too close to the beach that time and the prop hit the bottom and the outboard motor fell off? We had to fish it out of the water then tow the tinny all the way back from Pelican Point! It was funny AF but Brownie didn’t think so. And neither did Sir.)
…plus we had the occasional big adventure like canoeing forest rivers south of Perth or bushbashing through impenetrable forest and getting lost and nearly having to sleep rough, or being deckhands for a day on the Leeuwin II…
Don’t you miss those sexless, shapeless work uniforms and clunky shoes?
(By the way, did you hear the one about the gay whale? He went down on a submarine and sucked out all the seamen.)
And then we had skool too…
And just so you know, Mosey, I have dispatched a search team to find that photo of you and Mim as little old ladies for Arsenic & Old Lace. One day…
In the meantime, for your entertainment:
As we got older we moved away from dollies and dressups, and entertained ourselves in a manner far more in keeping with our maturing tastes.
Like… girly makeup parties.
Annnd… manufacturing handmade chocolates for consumption by discerning friends and family.
And… remember that time we were so far ahead with the wellness trends we even trialled full body treatments with mud imported from the shores of the Dead Sea?
After school: MORE SCHOOL??
Mosey’s Travels Through Space & Time…
New Year’s 2007 – Brisbane!
Then Mosey Pisses Off Again, to Europe!
2008: We Meet Again, in Canadia!
Later that year: Mosey is promoted to Auntie!
I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there to help when Finn arrived; probably managed okay most of the time. Since it wasn’t actually practical to stay curled up in a puddle of hormones to bawl and swear to myself until Finn started school.
Update 2011: Mosey becomes Auntie to a second bobble-head.
You’ve been away for (c/- Roars whinge:”It’s gonna be AAAGES!”) bloody ages and we all miss you heaps. Well you were here just over a week ago but I don’t have photographic proof because you insisted the ones I took were horrible and you looked like an evil witch trying to eat Rory. So since I’m such a good sister I haven’t put up that one. But you better hurry yo ass up and get back here!