Tales from the Parsonage 

JUST ANOTHER WORKING DAY  

By Lynne Parsons  

Giz, the pug dog snuggled deeper into the warm blankets.  Curled around her back was her Mum and just inches from her button nose her Dad snored softly.  Giz heard the clock radio go on.  Half an hour till getting up time.  She let out a sigh of contentment.  Heaven. 

Every morning the routine was the same.  Giz would stay in bed till the last possible moment.  Mum said "wakey wakey Giz, time to go to work."  Then one eye would peep open.   

Giz was a K9 therapist although if anyone had ever bothered to ask her, she would rather have been a builders mate with Dad.  Since she was 10 weeks old she had worked for Presbyterian Support East Coast in New Zealand.  She started work at 8 o'clock in the morning, till late in the afternoon.  She was nine years old with a good sprinkling of grey whiskers and a stiff leg getting up on cold days like today. 

 "Do you want your nice tartan jacket on Giz?" Mum asked.  "I'm putting mine on."  Giz stood patiently whilst her warm coat was put on and then off they went down the hillside to the car. 

 Mum's work was only a five minute drive away and then as she parked and opened the door she would fly out and strut around the whole garden, checking out what pesky cats had been through whilst she had been away at home.  "Woof woof woof," no corner was missed.  "Stop that barking Giz," said Mum and come inside.   

The staff started to arrive.  Each was greeted with a bark of hello.  Jacqui was always kind and good for a tit bit.  She often came to work with a coffee and a hot sausage roll and Giz always got a bit.  She did a quick arithmetic sum in her head.  Ten clients, four days a week equalled 40, fifteen staff totalled 55 plus lots of visitors.   

This made her art of begging perfection and second to none.  She knew who to sit imploringly in front of at morning tea.  At lunch time she would stroll underneath the length of the long table, stopping as a hand would appear with a bit of ham or a nice piece of quiche.  No hang ups for her about waistlines.  "Don't feed Giz now guys," Mum said.  "Of course no," always came the reply. 

Liz was another favourite staff member.  She gave the most gorgeous massages.  Giz would lean into her leg, closing her eyes in bliss. 

The Beacon, where Mum was the manager, was her second home.  She was very territorial.  Once the visitors were inside the door, she would clock off duty and look for a sunny spot to snooze. 

 After lunch was always siesta time and then she would disappear into Mum's office to her basket to get a toy.  Her little chubby body would come hurtling back through the lounge door, throwing her teddy up and shaking it like crazy.  All the clients laughed and cried "shake it Giz, get it."  Giz would drop it to be thrown again and dash after it.  As the years have gone by, this playtime has become shorter.  "Better put my show on and earn my keep, the clients love it," she muttered.   

Inside her tummy was THE clock.  In nine years it could be relied on to go off just before lunch time and home time.  Hanging off Mum's trouser leg, dancing around making attractive doggy noises and loitering in the kitchen near the cook would always get the same response.  "Your alarms gone off too early, you will have to wait." 

"I have to keep my strength up for all those wheelchairs and walkers I have to dodge every day," she thought.  "Look out Giz, move yourself."  For the umpteenth time she would jump out of the way only to have to move again a few minutes later.  "I'm sure if I was a builder's dog I would get peace to do what old dogs like best, she thought.  Lie in the sun, undisturbed. 

 In the afternoon the huge maxi taxis would all come streaming through the gate to take the clients home.  Time for a really good bark.  The drivers all knew her.  "Hello Giz."  Roly was a new driver.  "She doesn't like me," he always said.  "Don't be so daft," Mum would say, "she's just letting you know who is the boss."   

The last part of the day was bliss for Giz.  It was really quiet.  Everyone had gone home, even the other staff.  It was just her and Mum.  She settled down in the basket next to Mum's office desk, and snored loudly, whilst Mum did all her paperwork. 

"Time to go home Giz." Music to her ears.  A walk along the beach, and then the best bit.  Home to dinner, Dad and a roaring fire. 

Life's not so bad she thought, for a K9 therapist.   

 Once again while eating his dinner, Tony called for a pen and paper.  A quick scribble has resulted in an incident that had everyone laughing around the dinner table, being immortalised in the written word it's a bit of a worry.  You never know when his headlights will alight on you. 

ALMOST PIE IN THE EYE

A poem by Tony Hurrelbrink  

On account of the wayward Mrs McKay
We almost had a case of pie in the eye
The whole table looked on and quickly came a reply
"I'm sorry to be so rude
But it wasn't me, it was my food"

Still it was interesting to see
How a sneeze can cause food to flee
Escape from the mouth that is
As fast as a kitchen whizz. 

It happened so fast no one even had time to duck
And the fact nobody got hit was down to good luck
Well maybe that is all one can do
When they bite off more than they can chew. 

DISABILITY BRINGS CHANGES
A poem by Tony Hurrelbrink  

At The Beacon people learn to see the light
With help from clients and staff, so bright
Learn to turn around negative remarks
To use these as notivation to achieve targets
Because you won't know what you can do until you try
It's better to keep busy, rather than curl up and wait to die
Learn what to do and how to rise above
Aided by The Beacon family constant support and love.  

As we carry on this crazy journey
Which seems to take an eternity
But we need to slow down and enjoy the coffee
Because it's the little things that help keep us free
Learn how to express yourself again
Albeit with paint, clay or a pen. 

 During a time of global economic recession
We collectively wrote a book to help lift depression
Was this a case of Lynne having spent too long in the sun
Or a timely idea that simply had to be acted upon
An attempt to settle the world so full of strife
We can up with "Sucking on the Lemon of Life."  

You may not realise straight away
But things happen in life and changes come your way
Even simple things like listening to a song
Where you used to blithely just sing along
And "you hear" the words for the first time
Every single word of every single line
My goodness how the words can impact
Where before they were very matter of fact.  

Changes - I see changes happening every day
I see changes coming your way
I'm Still Standing, better than I ever did
Feeling like a tru survivor, feeling like a little kid
I'm still standing after all this time
Picking up pieces of my life without you by my side.