Better (the best) Mum

Posted on 22/12/2014 by Ian

My Eulogy

For my Mum

Gloria Dawn Schlein

17/10/1929 – 14/12/2014

Today we were going to carry Mum into the church, but considering over the last couple of years she has been unable to walk and has had to use a lifter, I thought we would spare her that last indignation of having to be carried, and knowing us, we probably would have dropped her. But I would like to thank my cousins Anthony Nogaj and Jamie Percival, Cheryl and Sam’s lad Christopher and Cheryl and Chris who were going to be Mum’s pall bearers.

A few years ago, well 10 actually, I asked Mum to write down her life story. Mum wrote about 35 pages, most of it was about her younger life with Dad. Mum in addition to that has kept a daily journal for about the last 65 years, her last entry was only a week before she became ill. My eulogy today, is mostly Mum’s own words.

Mum was born 2014 - 18 Cedar Avenue on the 17^th October 1929 at the family home at 18 Cedar Avenue, Croydon. When she was little she used to wonder why she wasn’t ‘important’ enough to be born in a hospital like her brother Allan.

When Mum was 6 months old, Lindsay Schlein, my Dad, was born at McBrides Hospital in Adelaide on April 27^th 1930.

Mum went to Croydon Infant School. Mum wrote of a vivid memory telling her mother to go home as ‘the teacher would look after me.’ When Mum was in Year 2, she was ‘Mother Britannia’ in the Empire Day Pageant. Her Gran Cooke made her a long white muslin dress for the occasion and her Dad borrowed a fireman’s helmet from the Hindmarsh Fire Station to wear on her head.

0154 Each year at Primary School Mum was ‘dux’ of her class. Mum always says it wasn’t an effort, as she just loved school.

World War 2 started when Mum was 10 years old; she said she vividly remembered the announcement made on the Sunday night during one of the weekly radio plays. She said she remembered being scared because she saw her mother and grandma crying when they heard the announcement.

Several of Mum’s relations were involved. Cousin Bob and Jim Cooke were in the army serving in the Middle East and the Pacific. Another cousin Bill Fletcher was in the tank corps and was killed at El Alamein. In the latter war years Mum attended Woodville High School.

Betty hockham (uncle allans ex-fiance) - Uncle Allan and Mum (mum about 13 years) When Mum was sitting for her Intermediate Exam she got scarlet fever which prevented her from taking the exam. However, she was credited with a pass because of her years record which Mum said was a great honour in a school the size of Woodville High.

The war ended during that year and Mum says she remember she was in the train at Kilkenny Station, when sirens sounded and church bells rang signaling the end of the war. Mum went to school that day and said all day they did nothing except laugh, scream and sing patriotic songs.

After 3 years in High School Mum says she disappointed her parents, if anyone can imagine Mum disappointing anyone, by foregoing one year of the four year Myer Scholarship which she had won in grade 7 which paid for all her high schooling. Mum instead went Junior Teaching, that doesn’t exist anymore.

Mum did Junior Teaching as she thought of going somewhere exotic and travelling away from home, however she got her first appointment to Escourt House Crippled Children’s Home at mum - sweet 16 Grange.

Mum said she was shocked on her first day as most of the pupils were confined to bed and all of the lessons were individual, one on one with students.

This was probably the start of Mum’s life crossing over generations and distance. At Escourt House Mum met 13 year old Rae Underdown and years later, in Berri, Mum met Rae again as Rae Burns, the wife of our Uniting Church Minister, Bob Burns; in addition Mum was teaching Rae’s youngest 01208 daughter Lindy at Berri Primary School.

In 1947 Mum went to Teachers College. In those days teachers were paid to go to college and Mum earned the princely sum of 3lb – 1- 4 (about $6) a fortnight. Mum says pay days were an occasion when after getting paid all the trainee teachers hurried to Myers’ Cafeteria as they could then afford a sixpenny salad.

It was during Mum’s college years that Mum’s brother Allan married Yvonne Lamshed and had their first child Wendy. Mum said Wendy was the apple of Pa’s eye and Mum was always grateful that he at least got to see 3 of his 6 grandchildren before his death.

At the end of Mum’s college years in 1947 her first teaching appointment was Kersbrook Primary School, which had 47 students and was a 2 hour bus ride from Adelaide in a rickety old Birdseye’s bus.

Mum boarded in Kerbrook with a very little, as in short, lady, Mrs Bertha Crook, who told her to avoid the ‘larrikin’ element in town: as we see later that advice wasn’t heeded. In Mum’s year 2 class was a very ‘shy’ little girl called Deirdre Schlein.

Mum’s Grandpa Cooke brought her a brand new Comet bicycle, which she used to ride everywhere including on Friday nights to Christian Endeavour at Gumeracha: 7 miles there and seven miles back. As Mum’s first year at Kersbrook drew to a close she took her 23 Grades 1,2 and 3 children on a ‘nature walk’ and in the afternoon they were all very tired and walking back to school when a big red Studebaker truck stopped. The kids all cheered and waved, especially Deirdre who yelled out “It’s my brother.’ It was my Dad, Lindsay who stopped, hopped out and loaded 23 kids in the back of his truck (so much for non existent consent forms for today!) This was probably the first of hundreds of kids who roade in the back of one of Dad’s various trucks and utes over the years. Mum declined a lift and walked back – she said romance never crossed her mind.

During this year Mum’s second lovely niece Faye Alana Cooke was born on April 8th.

It was also towards the end of this year that Mum says she was ‘picked up’ by Lindsay. Mum was riding her bike and Dad and his friend stopped on their Motor Bike and Dad offered to ride Mum’s bike home and his friend would take her home on the motorbike. Mum for some reason, she says, accepted having never been on a motorbike before – the next day when Nana and Pa found out, Pa was amused, and Nana was horrified.

Mum came home for those Christmas holidays and had a niggling appendix, which she had removed, at the Memorial Hospital. Mu

m went back to school after the holidays but a week later she was admitted to hospital with massive pelvic abscesses as a result of the appendix operation and didn’t return to school until Easter – Dad was a surprise visitor at hospital and from there, as Mum describes it, he became a regular visitor and they were starting to have an attachment.

Dad shortly after approached Pa, as the story goes, and said ‘I’m not going to ask you can we get engaged – I’m telling you – in case you say no.’ Mum says that she didn’t think Nana was very happy, but Pa was. Celebrations for the occasion were non-existent. Shortly after Mum lost both Nana’s parents, her grandparents, within 5 weeks of each other.

In the following year Dad turned 21 and preparations were being made for their wedding in December.

In those days Mum had to resign from teaching for 3 days which she described as a lurk to stop superannuation and to make them temporary employees.

Mum & Dads Wedding Mum and Dad were married on the 15^th of December 1951. Mum passed away a day short of what would have been her 63^rd wedding anniversary.

On Mum’s wedding it was over 100 degrees. Everything for the wedding was handmade by friends and relatives. Lindsay’s best man was Mum’s brother Allan and Dean Powell from Kersbrook who was groomsman. Allan said he had learned a new knot called a Windsor knot and tied Dad’s tie, which mainly resulted in every wedding picture having Dad’s tie hanging out at an awkward angle.

1951-12-15 - Mum & Dad Wedding 01 Their reception was held in the small hall at Hindmarsh. Eric Adams from Kersbrook sang ‘I’ll walk beside you’ at their wedding. I think this song became the theme for their lives together.

I would now like to ask my daughter Jackie, and my wonderful friend Steve Foenander and his son Jess, on guitar, to come forward to sing “I’ll walk beside you”.

Mum always said she really enjoyed her wedding day.

Just as a side note Dad on the day of his wedding had to travel from Kersbrook on the bus and he was so nervous he missed breakfast and got to the bus stop an hour before the bus arrived. I wonder why he didn’t get a ride with someone?

When they said goodbye to their guests, Pa hugged Mum and cried, so she cried too. Pa had always introduced Mum as his ‘baby girl’ and Mum confessed that she always told Pa things that she didn’t tell Nana.

For their honeymoon they went all the way to Waterfall Gully for two nights at a bed and breakfast. When they got home Mum was horrified that Nana couldn’t wait and had unwrapped all their wedding presents.

Both Mum and Dad went back to work on the Monday. Mum and Dad used to get up at 5.00 am so Dad could drive Mum to Adelaide Railway Station to catch a old steam train to Bridgewater where she was teaching – luckily she transferred to Pennington Primary during the year which stopped the early mornings.

Screen shot 2011-06-09 at 5.36.34 PM During this year Mum and Dad moved to 4 Hotckkiss Crescent, Croydon Park Extension. With what Mum called a ‘little temporary’ house of 3 rooms. When they moved in they had to build their own toilet and laundry out the back!

Mum and Dad also had a bad motorbike accident with Mum being confined tobed for 6 weeks, with a blood clot in the leg, unable to walk. The accident was reported on the front page of ‘The Mail’ – I found the article recently on the internet and Mum was surprised her and Dad were ‘famous.’

That year, the day after spending Christmas Day with Mum and Dad and Allan, Yvonne, Wendy, Faye and Allan, Pa died of a heart attack. He was 53 years old. Pa is buried at the Dudley 01296 Park Cemetery.

That year passed slowly and during that year Mum also taught at Ferryden Park School and Dad worked for Albert G. Sims as he enjoyed the ‘scrap metal’ trade.

In December that year Allan, Vonnie and family had booked to go to Melbourne for their holidays. Mum and Dad had purchased ‘Genevieve’ an old Morris van painted blue, cream and red. Mum said they just loved it – freedom!

Dad Young 5 On Christmas Day Mum and Dad suddenly decided to go to Melbourne too, accompanying Allan and Vonnie and the kids on their trip. Mum and Dad stayed for two nights then headed for Phillip Island where the camped for 5-6 nights in the caravan park. Lindsay’s Dad had said that they wouldn’t make it to Melbourne let alone back so when they got there they sent a telegram saying……

“We made it.” (with no name attached). Mum said that they may have actually used more oil in the trip than petrol as the back of the van was filled with 4 gallon oil drums which overnight they put a mattress on and slept on.

01315

In 1955 Mum and Dad moved to Melbourne in 1957 where Mum said they had a wonderful time there for approximately 6 months, living in a flat in Collingwood in the red light district as Mum put it, and then later at Mt Alexander Road, Moonee Ponds. 01265 They still had Genevieve!

01228

Mum and Dad then moved to Elliott Avenue, Belair where they saw lots of Marg and Ron Battersby. The house was fairly primitive AGAIN with a chemical toilet out the back!

It was 1959 Mum and Dad first became parents to my brother, Christopher Hal Schlein, born on 6th July 1959 and came home from Brighton Babies Home 6 weeks old on 24th August 1959.

Mum resigned from school of and did not return to teaching until 1969.

When Chris was five months old Dad started working away from home at Alawoona, truck driving. Mum and Dad got their first television set about this time. It was not unusual to have a dozen kids in the lounge room one of whom would be nursing Chris while they watched the afternoon children’s shows.

In 1961 I was born on May 1st, also at Brighton Babies Home and came home nine weeks old on June 30th.

Also at this time that Mum and Dad put their name down to adopt a baby girl.

Para Hills House Foundations With the growing family they decided to build a house at Para Hills in a house and land package, but unfortunately when they sold their house at Belair the man who bourght the house never paid and they didn’t receive any money.

This was to be a theme in their lives a trusting others and helping out people who often took advantage of their generosity and trust. So after a bit of a struggle we all moved into 6 Sundale Avenue, Para Hills in April 1963.

Nine months later Cheryl was born on December 24th. She came home on January 25th.

Mum said she was convinced all us kids were chosen for them by God and it was strange that each of us children arrived home on the birth date of another family member. Chris on Allan Cooke’s birthday, Ian on Neil Schlein’s birthday and Cheryl on Stewart Percivals birthday.

1967 (circa) - Gang at Belair When Cheryl was three Dad went up to Loxton to work for his Dad. Mum and Dad struggled a bit during those years. Lindsay was earning $80.00 a fortnight ($160.00 a month), $40.00 went on the mortgage repayments and the other $120.00 on electricity, gas, telephone, clothes and food (also chemist and Doctors bills for the kids).

1967 (circa) - LtoR Me-Peter B-Chris-Me-Jo Battersby

Going out was just about non-existent, but we were happy. These photographs show it was always about family, friends and the simple things in life.

Untitled In 1970 we all moved to Berri. This time our little timber ramed house actually came with an inside toilet and a laundry.

Mum and Dad were generous in letting their house at Para Hills to family for the 22 and half years they lived in Berri. First Wen, Stew and family, then Allan and Pauline, and lastly Chris who lived there until Mum and Dad moved back in 1992.

Untitled

Mum all her life loved school, from her primary school days to being a teacher, she just loved it. She said that all her school years were generally great.

While at Berri Dad was very involved as a volunteer with the intellectually disabled and Rotary (President one year). He also drove the Special School bus. Dad was awarded as Berri’s citizen of the year (Australia Day Awards) in 1990. Mum said Dad didn’t have to win any of these awards as Mum was always proud of him.

Untitled Mum was involved in the Children’s Ministry at church and school through the Scripture Union. Each year in September Mum was involved in Scripture Union Mission at Barmera Caravan Park and Dad would cook his famous stews.

Mum retired in 1992 and Mum and Dad moved back to Para Hills as they knew that Bryony and I were expecting their first grandchild, Bethany arrived shortly after in May1993.

Untitled Bethany is over seas at the moment and Ali her sister would like to say a few words on behalf of all of my children.

Then in 1995 Mum had much sadness.

First Lindsay’s Dad Russell died of cancer.

Despite the fact that Dad didn’t seem at all well, he refused to go to the doctor.

utitled8 Then on April 21st Dad died very suddenly just before his 65 birthday.

Mum wrote this was the saddest day of her life.

The 6 weeks after Dad died Nana, Mum’s Mum, passed away.

Mum said her time with Dad after retirement was short, but as Linds used to say ‘Que sera, sera.’

Mum and Dad made a life which they filled with kids, family and friends. They lived their lives rich in loving, giving, caring, laughter and gratefulness.

Earlier this year I was chatting with Mum and asked her why she was always so happy and accepting.

She said because she was ‘thankful’

I wrote down what she said and it has been on her wall ever since.

It is never to late to learn from your Mum.

I will now ask my wife Jo Battersby to come forward and read Mum’s list of what she was thankful for.

I’ve know aunty Glor all my life, I always called her Aunty Glor. In the last 7 years since Ian and I have been together I seen a lot more of her. Even though she was confined to her room for the last couple of years she was always happy.

Untitled On 30/3/2014 Aunty Glor told Ian and I that these were the things she was thankful for:

Having a good home
Nice people to look after me
The doctor comes when I call, and he is nice
Someone to do my shopping
Having a joke
Visits from my family
I rarely wake up miserable, I wake up grateful
When I smile it makes other people happy, that makes me happy
Having a packet of potato chips when I want – sometimes one in the morning and one in the afternoon
I love seafood – I wish I could have more
Looking at my photographs – especially the ones of Dad and remembering those days
I love eggs for breakfast – emphasized love!

I have spoken a lot about Mum’s ‘younger’ life. We often forget that we were all young once. That is why on your bookmarks and order of service is the picture of Mum and Dad when they were young. Dad with one of his famous windmills made from a piece of bark and a stick, and Mum beaming: it was taken just before they got married.

Mum’s happiness was always generated from within.

Finally, Mum was wonderful at giving presents. I think we can all attest to that. Most of us would remember Mum’s gift cupboard and gift boxes full of presents, just in case: often raided by my kids. I did not inherit this trait of being a good gift chooser. I found to buy for my Mum was the hardest. Firstly, my Mum never really in her entire life, wanted anything. Last Birthday I gave in and asked Mum what she wanted and she said a lamb loin chop. So we set up the BBQ in the courtyard of her retirement home and cooked that lamb loin chop for Mum.

Untitled Mum gave us all the things that we needed over the years. So a few years ago I wrote down all the gifts I was going to return to Mum. This picture is the front of the card and I wrote inside all the gifts I was returning to Mum.

Mum, I return to you: FAMILY

It is the largest gift you have given all of us, and the most precious, because you made it yourself.

Mum, I return to you: LOVE

It is the oldest and most enduring gift, it doesn’t have any conditions and it comes with an unlimited lifetime guarantee.

Mum, I return to you: FAITH

It came in so many parts, and we had to put it together ourselves.

Mum, I return to you: MEMORIES

This came in a huge package, filled with laughter and tears, triumphs and tragedies, but everything always looked brand new with each moment wrapped in your influence.

I found a very small box in the back of the cupboard, which I had lost a few times over the years, but you kept finding it for me. It was HOPE; and now I share that gift with everyone, when I can.

My cupboard of life is full of the gifts you have given me and our family.

Today I am giving back just a few. But I saved the best for last.

You gave Chris, Cheryl and me the gift of being your chosen children.

Sorry Mum, but I have spoken to the others and we are keeping that one.

Mum is gone but her gifts to all of us will live on. We just have to remember to share them, because Mum would have wanted us to.

I have no doubt Mum is in heaven with Dad.

We will miss you Mrs Schlein,
We will miss you Gloria,
We will miss you Aunty Glor, Aunty Flo,
We will miss you Nana,
We will miss Mum,

We love you.

Better at Child Support

Posted on 13/12/2014 by Ian

I went to the graduation dinner for my youngest daughter a couple of weeks ago. I was proud.

It was also around that time that my relationship with my daughter(s), and their Mum (and her Hubby) changed in another way. It was like a new life for all of us, but very different.

A couple of days before was my last child support payment. It will obviously be a bit of a financial bonus for me and perhaps a bit more of a burden for my Ex. But, I had some mixed emotions.

Obviously we all wish that our relationships could turn out perfect, but considering the current divorce rate of about 1 in 3 marriages this is not a reality in a third of occasions. In addition to the heart ache that splitting up may induce, it is often amplified and more often manipulated when kids are involved.

I see and hear of so many break ups that then proceed to not only destroy the lives of the couple concerned but damage the kids for a long time… This is not involving murders and suicide but just the damage of hearts and trust and love that can occur in a ‘normal’ break up when those that caused it still think it’s all about them.

Just to make it clear, I don’t think I will ever quite forgive myself for leaving my kids. But, be sure that I will always man up to the responsibility I have for them. I have paid my child support and tried to be a good Dad at the same time. Yeah, I have faultered and sometimes been angry about the wrong things. But, I have also been proud about not shirking my responsibilities as a Father.

I have had times when I paid for things with the coins from a ‘change jar’ as I had no other money… And I have taken gambles in houses and relationships that ‘normal’ people don’t because they have a family to support and something to lose.

I have come out alright through a process of luck, semi good management, luck, an ex that knew doing the best for the kids was more important than hating me and just lately (well 7 years!) having a new partner, now wife, who understands, supports and often counsels in what is important and what is definitely not! (Did I mention a lot of this was luck!)

I often hear about the blokes that have had a rougher end of the stick than me and hate a lot as a result. I hear and see kids damaged and hearts never mended. But, I also remember that most times, not all, but most, if there are kids involved and they are the most important thing, not egos, manipulative helpful friends (and lawyers), family advice (including new partners), hurt feelings and even broken hearts, then perhaps, this life, this one life, can provide happiness to everyone.

Tonight we took a photo with my daughter and my ex and her husband and me and my wife either side of my daughter, and my daughter said once we were all in position ‘I’m lucky cos I have two sets of parents.’

Yeah, our family is complex, often a logistical nightmare, full of conflicting priorities and full of responsibilities. But, we accept those responsibilities for the entire family. We have a few kids/step kids to go that aren’t part of the child support merry-go-round, but they are still part of MY family, no matter how we are connected, through divorce, new marriages, step kids, step siblings, half siblings and all the new members to arrive through sons and daughters in law. We, and I think it is the WE, accept that responsibility and the idea that our family is what we make if it.

I also know that sometimes the ‘system’ is unfair and manipulated – often this does seem like a conspiracy against you.

There are no time machines, we can’t go back and fix stuff, but we can make up for our mistakes and all be better.

If it’s not so good for you remember a few things I may have learned:

forgive yourself
forgive your ex (even if she/he is a bitch/bastard)
make the kids your number one priority even if it means not seeing them or staving to death
never shit can your ex, even if you are right and she/he is so wrong you can’t believe anybody would side with them (your kids will if you shit can them!)
don’t get angry at the kids, remember this is not their fault
pay what is fair, pay more if you can (you can’t take it with you – keep good records, the kids will find them after you die!)
keep new partners out if it, if they don’t understand get a new new partner you’re obviously good a picking the wrong one!
give the kids experiences and time with you, not presents (a night camping, with a fire, cooking toast and real butter and stories, lasts forever; a new toy gets old in a fortnight until next visits expected new toy)
take heaps of photos, especially around the campfire, or blanket cubby in the lounge or when you are all laughing
hug them heaps

Remember your kids will grow up and have the wisdom to see life as you do, just later on.

Life is messy. But as my new wife says (the new one, not that other bitch… kidding!), look for the moments of joy. Do you think your kids care about how much maintenance you pay, they care about how much you love them. Show them that, it costs nothing and is an investment with an infinite interest rate.

PS: One last gripe. If you are a ‘dead beat’ Dad and spend most of your time avoiding paying maintenance, shit canning your ex and manipulating your children – please stay out of my life and bitching in conversations I am a part of. I really am not interesting in how you fucked up your life and blame everyone else – even the kids. I am also not interested in your ‘good traits’ because really, you are a loser, abandoned the sacred trust of Fatherhood and now cry victim! (Perhaps the reason you are a failure is because you always were, marriage and kids actually had nothing to do with it). I am also not interested in hearing about all the scams you are pulling to avoid paying – one of which will probably be not working… I rest my case on that one!

PPS: If you’re the step Dad and dealing with the ‘dead beat’ Dad – as hard as it is, justlet it go (see above regarding kids getting their wisdom later in life). Also it is not up to you to be the ‘head’ of the household, as you now live in a really, really different world. Perhaps it is your job to make sure everyone is happy – good luck with that one!

PPPS: …… and for all you Dad’s getting well and truly bent over by the Ex and perhaps even the courts, hang in there – see above about the wisdom your kids are growing into. Also haters will hate not matter what, try not to be one of them.

Better with the ONLY Commodity

Posted on 11/12/2014 by Ian

I have not posted for some time due to a series of issues which (other than technical ‘issues’) can best be explained as ‘family issues’ – of course in avoiding work or coming up with excuses these can be explained in a number of ways, all prefixed with ‘family’ or ‘personal’ followed by words such as:

‘issues‘
This is a good one as it is really criptic and people dont want to ask – and if they do you can just tell them you can’t talk about it due to some legal issues (using issues twice in the one sentence is a surefire was to get them to stop asking).

‘tragedy‘
Unfortunately this must have some truth to is as people will ask what – it is okay because a grandparent that nobody knows can in fact be tragically ill over a very long period and can even die a couple of times so long as you dont mix excuses with the same people.

‘dramas‘
Almost as fantastically cryptic as issues but often leads people to think that you may be in some danger – use it only when you can become upset and that will stop people from asking anything further.

‘bullshit‘
A great one for men (actually they are all good for men talking to men because no man wants to get involved in another man’s business which may involve showing any emotion) – so bullshit is fantastic and then all other men can reply ‘Yeah, I know what you mean, fucking families – bullshit!’ – and then everyone continues on their way and you get to take that day off to play golf.

So which one am I going to use for my lack of posts.

None….. it’s one I just discovered!

It’s over spending and living on credit.

That’s what I have been doing and when I took stock I realised that I was approaching bankruptcy and no matter where I went I couldn’t get any credit, I couldn’t get any refunds and most of all not even my friends or relatives could give me a loan (mainly due to personal or family issues, tragedy, dramas or bullshit).

Yep, it had come to that point where I was completely out of and could not get hold of the only commodity that counts – time.

I actually had enough money, a nice home, a good wife, kids to be proud of but, no time.

I actually did an audit and realised that some out of control spending had to go. Some things I just couldn’t afford. I decided that the following were going to get culled or only be used in my spending regime under the strictest of circumstances:

Television
I had decided this a long time ago but kept on spending – in fact during the audit I found that it was a massive hidden cost. It was like finding the leaking tap around the side of the house that had increased my water bill tenfold but I hadn’t noticed. It was a continuous drip that accumulated into a massive expense. And, in all honesty do I care who cooks the best roast or who gets voted off the island or who the Bachelor picks to stay with for 5 minutes during the finale Solution: Never switch it on unless you have really planned to watch something. Never choose it as the first option to ‘relax’ when you have nothing else planned – plan something else (doing this may be a new skill that has to be learned and may require some training!) Advanced Budgeting: Sell a few that fill your house and have only one in the house. (Read a book, that helps too!)

Regrets
I realised that I had been paying a huge amount of interest on regrets that were bad investments in the first place. The worst part of these debts is that it prevented me from borrowing anything now, and as it turned out that now can be a very long time. It is hard to give yourself a credit rating when you give yourself no credit. Solution: It actually dawned on me that these interest payments either had to be written off as bad debts – which means basically forgiven – or paid in full. Most times the final payment can be made with a simple ‘sorry’ (you have to actually mean it!). Advanced Budgeting: If you get your credit rating back, don’t lose it again – remember Albert Einstein’s definition of insanity regularly referred to by me which is “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result”.

Doing What You Hate
After my wife was diagnosed with breast cancer we decided that our days would not be filled dragging ourselves through our days doing things we didn’t have to and in fact hated. It was simple – 1). We hated doing the dishes – we bought a dishwasher; yeah it was a few dinners we couldn’t go out for or ‘luxuries’ we wanted now that we would have to save for, but the investment was worth it. 2). We hated cleaning – we got a cleaner – yes, this was a luxury and a pretty big expense and sometimes seems like a waste of money (although it is giving someone a job) – but, when we get home on that fortnightly Wednesday to a wonderful clean house it is all worth it. 3). Stop working at that job. Yeah, we all have to live but we also all die and if you need some reminding have a dinner party with all your immortal friends and get them to bring around all the things they are going to take with them when they die. It has to be said…. if you do what you love you will never work a day in your life. I like to add, that if you work all your life at something you hate, then in all honesty you are a bloody idiot. Plus for those of you who want to say I work to live not live to work – get a grip – work life balance is a myth created by people who don’t want to work – it is just called ‘life’ sort it out or live in the previous paragraph. Solution: Figure out what it is that you are doing that really is not adding to your life and ween yourself off of it – save for the dishwasher – find the cleaner who needs the work and you can afford – have a dream about your work and start (even tiny steps) to make it happen. Advanced Budgeting: Stop. Really, really have a look at your values and live them. Read these posts: Better an appreciative question, Better at Leaving, Better Authority, Responsibility and Concern…..

Hanging Out With People Who Don’t Add to Your Life
Wow this is a biggy. This is not often so much about the debt you are getting into but all the commodities your are lending when you actually know you will never get paid back. Yeah, we all do it and then get a bit sooky and ‘hurt’ when they renege on the loan – I love it when they tell you they thought it was a gift not a loan! If you are in a circle of friends and all talking about the person who isn’t there, then you are in the wrong circle of friends. Not adding to your life does not necessarily mean taking away from it – it can be as simple as holding you in a place that you never thought you would settle for (see above paragraph). I think understanding that happiness is not the absence of despair is very important. I think it is also very important that we give up the ‘life-long-friend no-matter-what’ as an idea that is good in theory but rare in practice – it is just that we don’t let it go when it is already gone and we end up hanging around with someone we hate and talk about when they are not in the circle. If you need more than one hand to count your ‘real friends’ on let me know your definition of a real friend… bet it’s different from mine. Loyalty is my base value; but that loyalty must also be to my base values. Solution: Figure out who rings who and for what reason and stop ringing and often this ‘problem’ just goes away. Lose the obligation and the initiation and you lose the friend you suddenly realised you didn’t want anyway. Advanced Budgeting: Pick right in the first place. Some of my best friends are my newest friends – met me and our values met – it’s not hard after that.

So here we are knowing where the spending has gone rampant and ready to do a budget. The thing about all budgets is working out what are essentials and what are luxuries. I was thinking about this recently where most people (read children, teenagers…) think that a flat screen TV of at least 50 inches and a mobile phone are essentials. I remind my children that the essentials are actually food, water, shelter, clothing, safety and a reasonable chance at an education… all else is a bonus – especially going over on your data use by hundreds of dollars because talking about nothing was considered essential!

I think any new budget should consider the advice from those that have really run out of time as in what I wrote in my post Better an Appreciative Question about the “Top 5 Regrets People Have on Their Deathbeds.”

So here’s my new budget:

I will be truly present where I am at that time
Tips & Tricks
– If I am talking to you face to face I will not answer my phone
– Better than the above, I will put it on silent during any conversation (and out of sight)
– I will listen more than I talk
– I will be more Mindful

I will be on time and expect the same
Tips and Tricks
– Let everyone know this – actually do it
– If you are late I will leave, start eating, not extend our time together as you wasted yours and undervalued mine (it is the ONLY commodity)
– I will not reschedule or wait just because you rang 5 minutes before to tell me that something else got in the way (I hear something else was a priority above me and when I do hear your excuse because I have waited half and hour – I think ‘really?’ that was more important than me).
– See above point – I am not answering my phone or it is on silent

If I catch myself getting into old habits I will stop
Tips and Tricks remote_image_1327309237 – Budgeting is like dieting – you have to watch it all the time and when you are halfwaythrough the hamburger you bourght from old habits, on impulse, it doesn’t mean you have to finish it (who ever does that!!)
– you know where the switch is to turn the TV off stand-by but you never do it…. life is full of switch to flick, you just have to do it….. angry/forgiving…. sad/happy…. dissatisfied/grateful….

I will live my mantras and remind myself constantly
Tips and Tricks Screen shot 2014-12-11 at 4.28.27 PM – Write ’em down, put em up – big posters, dream boards, wish lists inthe open are hard to ignore (especially if they are on top of the TV!) and need explaining to friends and family – now we are all on the same page!
– I will be Be peaceful, Be mindful, Give a positive impression, Live in harmony and not make things to complicated

Finally…

I will follow my true instincts and values
Tips and Tricks
– this is the ‘daily limit’ on your account that stops you bankrupting yourself
– even with my new budget I will not go against my values and instincts (we are on the top of the food chain by having the best instincts and intuition)
– I will break my budget rather than my heart, if in my heart it is a good purchase (I will wait for my friend who is late if they need me that day, sometimes I will need to talk a bit more than listen, sometimes my budgetary requirements will clash and I will follow me heart)

Living My New Budget

Sorry that the practical advice about how to save those minutes in folding the clothes or making the bed or getting that meeting over or report done is not here….. our time is not wasted by doing things, it is wasted by us not doing the right things in the right priority.

I know people who know the price of everything and the value of nothing…. it really is about counting the pennies (usually from heaven!) and the pounds will look after themselves (Translation – look after the cents and the dollars will look after themselves).

Considering the average life is over 2 BILLION seconds you have to think, where have the ones gone already and what am I going to do next…..

Hang on a second, rarely is. You cant get it back, it’s spent.

Being fugal isn’t the answer, being wise is.

The other day someone told me they could not make a funeral as a meeting had been rescheduled at the same time….. (that is the end of that comment and sentence as I can’t think of what to say…. how about WTF!)

Strangely enough following on from the above I went around to the friends’ house whose funeral it was, and guess what, it was all still there – he didn’t take any of it with him……

So…… ATM - NO FUNDS
I will spend wisely.
I will spend on things of value.
I will not live on credit.

I will ensure when I go the the ATM (the At The Moment machine) that I don’t get my card skimmed and my accounts are balanced.

Better with Des Steele, my friend.

Posted on 10/12/2014 by Ian

Below is my eulogy to my mate Des Steel.

Recently I received copies of the eulogies from his son Rowan Steele and his great mate Graham Puckridge – I have included these eulogies in this post as well (on 24/12/2014) and will repost this on Facebook and Linkedin.

_____________________________________________________________________________

I went to the funeral recently for my old mate Des Steele.

I am a better man for having had him as my friend.

I will miss him.

I had the honour of doing one of the eulogies. Below is the text of the eulogy.

Des was my friend.

Des was a member of the South Australia Police Pistol Club since the mid 70’s, he had his last shoot on the 30^th November 2014 when he a Kelly Dog went up the Club for the last time.

Today members of the club are wearing their red shirts in honour of Des.

Des will always be remembered and honoured at the club in the annual awarding of the ‘Des Steele Trophy’ – which was established in 1997. It is always one of the last trophies to be awarded at the Annual General Meeting after people have stepped forward to collect their highest score trophies, most improved trophies, etc etc….. then would come the announcement of the Des Steel Trophy – always a highly guarded secret. At this time there would be shuffling of feet and lowering of eyes as the trophy was usually awarded after the annual interstate trip to the APSPC and was awarded for

“the behaviour Des would be most proud of.”

Des surprisingly enough only ever won the trophy once in 2004 – when he was on a road trip to Brisbane with 3 team mates, Miller, Webby and Davey-boy-Goad. Des was left to navigate while Dave drove and the others slept – when they awoke they had travelled 400 km closer to Adelaide, but unfortunately they were travelling to Brisbane, Des only winning the trophy once is testimony to the good company he kept at the club.

Des was my friend:

I will miss his handshake

I will miss our long chats where would often lament – and use words such as lament – about:

Life
It’s joys, it’s trials and it’s futility – Des’s philosophy of life was so often expressed in literary greats such as Shakespeare, that Des could quote and recite by heart:

Henry the Fifth, Act 4, Scene 3

Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,

But he’ll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words
This story shall the good man teach his son,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered,
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers:
For he to-day that shreds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England no-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispins day.

I will miss our discussions about literature, about stories
– Sanders of the River
– The Washing of the Spears
– The Indian Rebellion
– Bury my Heart at Wounded Knee
…. And both of us badly reciting poetry

I will miss our chats of love, of women,

I will miss our chats of family and children

I will miss how we laughed about:
– Life, love, women and family
– How we laughed at each other…. And everyone else
– How we laughed about religion – I think most of us know Des’s opinion of who God was…. No man could be so cruel
– I will miss the irreverence….

…. And we would often say, even lament, “Life is often grave, but it need not be serious”

I will miss our beers together:
– Beers at the Pistol Club
– Beers in the Police Club
– Beers on the boat
– Beers out the back
– Beers in the lounge (the last lounge room on earth where you could smoke inside)

I will miss our friendship…. as so many of you will:
– The old scholars of PAC
– The RSL
– Peter Alexander, Puk
– The men and women of the SAPPC
And all the friendships in the Police and throughout his working and travelling life. The friendships he had with his dogs – and the last, Kelly-Dog

Des’s friendships spanned the years, the generations, occupations, locations, adversity…. and the tyranny of time. Each of these friendships were personal.

Des was a man who if he was your friend, he asked for nothing, listened well, and through this, your life was somehow better. Many of us may not be able to specifically remember the last conversation we had with Des – but we will always remember the way he made us feel…..

Des never underestimated the finality and often futility of life – we would often discuss what appeared so often, to be people living a life oblivious to the only one certainty….

We spoke of it but Des was not like this – He knew that real happiness could be obtained by taking it as it comes, not taking it to seriously and always having time for a beer.

Des in the end didn’t have many possessions, but he surrounded himself with things that didn’t cost much but were of real value… his friends, his photographs, books, his Mum’s paintings. Des only ever used the word ‘JOY’ when he spoke of his children and especially his grandchildren… It is not the man who dies with the most toys that wins, it is the man who dies with the most joys.

Recently, I thought that we had discovered the words to sum up our muses, his sage advice and his counsel :

From Macbeth (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 17-28)

There would have been a time for such a word.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player 
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more.
It is a tale, Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury 
Signifying…. nothing

It would be at this time, at other funerals I have attended, that I would sit back down next to Des and he would lean over and whisper – “But we’re still here.”

Des Steele, was my friend.

I have lived, and will continue to live a better life, and perhaps be a better man, for having known him.

Des Steele was my friend.

And, I will miss him.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Eulogy by Graham Puckridge

Desmond Luke Steele J.P. 11-7-1928 to 3-12 2014

Firstly thank you to all who have travelled long distances to be here. My name is Graham Puckridge and I have known Desmond Luke Steele and his Family for the last 35 years. It is a privilege and honour to be asked by his family to speak with you today about an incredible man who was a philosopher, a sage, a mentor, a raconteur, a confidante and above all a fantastic friend, Father, Grandfather and companion, to many of us here today.

Des was born at Wayville in 1928. He was one of two children and had a younger Sister Trish, who sadly passed on many years ago. His Father was a teacher at Prince Alfred College and so naturally Des attended Primary and Secondary school here. PAC has always been in his blood and it is fitting that we are holding his memorial in in this Chapel in the College, which was so special to him. To say Des was religious would be an overstatement. He described himself as being an agnostic who believed in divine malevolence. However, he liked to have an each way bet on religion and was always quick to point out that he won the scripture prize here at PAC and he could quote heaps of passages from the bible, none of which he practiced.

After PAC, Des went to Adelaide University where he started studying Medicine. I believe he started a couple times and I think he did about 3 years of medicine before leaving Uni. From what Des told me, he wasn’t the most dedicated student and was too easily distracted with the social side of Uni life.

In 1946, Des went to Darwin where he took up a job as a Registrar of Mines for the Northern Territory. He was responsible to the Commissioner of Mines and when not in Darwin he spent his service around Adelaide River and Rum Jungle. Darwin was still damaged from Japanese attacks and very much a wild frontier town still ravaged with bullet holes. He loved it and thrived on the carefree territory lifestyle. He played football and went shooting crocodiles and buffalo and developed a love of diving, spearfishing and the sea that has stayed with him all through his life. He has described to me how he loved to go diving on the many shipwrecks in Darwin Harbour.

He came back to Adelaide about 1952 and later married his first wife Betty, which produced Rowan and then Alana. He took up a Job in Nuriootpa with one of the wineries working in the Lab and then later moved to Port Pirie where he worked in the laboratories of the Smelters. One of the sayings he picked up in the Barossa locals, which has stayed with him all this time, was “Oh gosh, it is 11 o’clock already so soon already. Where’s the time gone.”

Des then worked as a Rep for a Drug Company called Upjohn, which saw him having to drive all over South Australia in a VW visiting Country Doctors to promote pharmaceutical products. A lot of the country roads were unsealed and he told me what a fantastic car the VW was and he loved to tear up the dirt roads in it. Often he caught up with Doctor’s he knew from his Uni days and would enjoy their hospitality. One occasion he was drinking in the local Pub with the Doctor, when he got called to do an emergency appendectomy. He grabbed Des, got him to put on a gown, scrub up and help him in surgery. He remembers the patient waking up half way through and having to administer chloroform or ether to get them knocked out again. They then rushed back to the Pub to get some beers in before 6 o’clock closing.

I am not sure of the year, but sadly Des and Betty separated and he later on married Roberta. That produced two more daughters, Amanda and Rebecca. Roberta has also travelled from Darwin to be with us here today.

Des took on a job as a Parole Officer with Correctional services. This brought him into contact with the Police and other Law Enforcement Organisations and was to be his chosen career until he retired in 1991.

Unfortunately Des and Roberta separated and Des met and married Cathy. Cathy already had a Son Matthew and Des took on Matthew as his own Son and has been an enduring father figure to him ever since.

All marriages are not made in heaven and Des and Cathy eventually parted ways about 1986. Des then started his long lasting relationship and deep friendship with Helen Michos, which has endured for the last 28 years. Helen’s Son Evan also has looked upon Des as a significant Father figure and mentor in his life and Des was very fond of Evan and his Daughter Hayley. So in a nutshell, Des Steele, 3 marriages, 6 children counting Evan, and 7 Grandchildren Jack, Ellie, Thomas, Amelia, Zack, Poppy and Halely, whom he loved dearly and his world revolved around. Des didn’t become a Grandfather until he was about 73 but often said his Grand children gave him so much Joy.

I first met Des about 1979, when he used to be a regular at the Police Club. He was always very friendly and sociable and loved a drink. Boy did he love a drink! He was a Senior Probation Officer at the Adelaide Gaol and he was very passionate supporter of the Police and C.I.B. in particular. I learned that Des was part of a Group called the Combined Investigators Association, which was a way all the Law Enforcement and Justice organisations networked and socialised together back then before computers, to exchange information, make the system work and get the job done. Through Des, I met a lot of useful contacts and friends in the Justice system many of whom are here today.

I moved to Kadina CIB in 1982 and Des and his children, Matthew, Amanda and Rebecca as well as Kelly dog one, where regular visitors on Friday nights and weekends when they used to go to Wallaroo for weekends fishing. Des had a V8 Valiant, which he used to call the “Ethnic Rolls Royce” and he would call in for a couple quick drinks with the boat on the way to Wallaroo and still be there near midnight. Jean and I eventually began to look forward to these nocturnal Friday night visits as Amanda, Rebecca and Matthew used to fuss over our young Son Brett and wheel him all over Kadina in his stroller until he went to sleep whilst we enjoyed cold frothies.

Des often took me fishing at Wallaroo. On one occasion, we were at Point Riley, it was dead calm and the water like glass. No fish were biting. We decided to go snorkelling and get some scallops. After we had been in the water for a while, we saw a huge school of garfish at the back of the boat. We got back in the boat and bagged out in no time. We returned to shore and went to the Wallaroo Hotel and Des said the fish would be okay and he would fillet them later. It wouldn’t take him too long as he had done a fish filleting course he said. Needless to say no fish got filleted that night and he awoke in the morning to the hum and buzz of blow flies trying to carry the boat and fish away. That’s when I first heard Des’s strategy for dealing with any problem. The ever reliable “F1. Not to worry it doesn’t matter.”

In 1984 the Kadina CIB started an Annual Xmas get together called the ‘Captains Night’ to thank those who had supported us during the year. This function eventually morphed into a fund raising event and ran for 27 years, raising hundreds of thousands of dollars for Yorke Peninsula charities. Des was a great supporter and only missed one year in 27, after a shoulder operation. He eagerly looked forward to it each year and everyone was always very happy to see him. When we used to leave Adelaide to drive up, as soon as we were out of the City limits, he would give a big sigh and say, “It’s all back there mate, I can feel it all dropping away.” He always loved a road trip anywhere and took any excuse to get away, especially to Yorke Peninsula. No trip to Yorke Peninsula was ever complete without a stop at Port Wakefield for a Pie or Pasty from the Bakery.

Des lived in his Family House at Young Street Wayville, just a short distance from the Show grounds. In 1988 he had to sell this home, which he loved dearly and I rented my vacant house at Westbourne Park to him on condition that I could use a room when I eventually shifted back to Adelaide in 1989. For about 6 months, myself and his two dogs Kelly one and Baron, were housemates. We had a lot of laughs. Talk about the odd couple.

Des used to get lamb off cuts from the butcher and cook them in the oven for the dogs. One night we arrived home from the pub peckish to find the fridge empty and two hungry dogs. The smell of the cooked lamb meat was too tempting so, in we hopped into the dogs dinner much to the look of disgust on both dog’s faces.

Another time I was cooking roast pork in the weber on the front verandah and the smell of the crackling had wafted down the street. Des could smell it as he walked up from the bus stop and was drooling at the mouth by the time he got in the gate. I had not even had a chance to do the veggies or gravy, but he didn’t care. He was famished and he got stuck into the meat and crackle like he hadn’t eaten for a week. The next day he was feeling off and went to his Family Doctor complaining of stomach pain. The Doctor who he had been at Uni with, poked and prodded, hummed and haa then sat down and wrote out the sick certificate for “ Fucking Gluttony”. The Doctor was smoking in the Surgery and Des said, “Give us a smoke Doc. No Des, they are bad for you.”

Des bought his current home at Clearview in 1989 and we moved him out there. We have kept in constant contact since then. He retired from Corrections in 1991 aged about 63 and took on the role of being a Pensioner. He was impressed by all the things he could get for free from the Government and he used them wisely. He also became a Justice of the Peace.

In the early nineties his daughter Alana was living in San Diego and Des did his first overseas trip to America to visit her. Des soon made friends with a man, whose Son was an Officer in the US Navy. He was privileged to tour the USS Chancellorsville and be treated to US Navy Hospitality. He was also a regular at the Mission Beach Golf Club bar where Alana used to work. He also made friends and contacts in the San Diego Police.

One of Des’s lifelong passions has been the old west, cowboy movies and western songs. He also had a fascination with Mexico and tried unsuccessfully to learn Spanish. I called it murdering the Spanish language, but he persevered. He did eventually achieve his dream to do a trip to Tombstone to tour the old west and Mexico, he even went to the bull fights.

When he returned he would try and impress everyone with his fluent Spanish and his favourite phrases;

Senor Lo siento, yo no sabía que ella era su hija

Sorry Senor, I didn’t know she was your daughter

por favor no me disparar Soy australiano

Please Don’t shoot me I am Australian

To this day his email name is Eldesso

Trips

I was fortunate to do many trips with Des. You couldn’t ask for a funnier person to go on a road trip with. His wit and humour kept me laughing and entertained. Des loved the British humour of Monty Python and all the ‘one liner’ gags that came out of it. Especially The Holy Grail and Life of Brian

In 2000 we travelled to Bunbury in Western Australia, to catch up with his US Navy mate Sean McLaren whom he had met in San Diego. We met the USS Higgins when it arrived in Bunbury and were privileged to spend a week with Sean on and off the ship. We got access to all areas that civilians would never be allowed to go and it was fascinating.

(USS Higgins – Sean McLaren. Nazi’s be bumped into, potato Nazi, forest Nazi, harbour Nazi, rogue locust.

Snotty bitch at function on ship Mayors wife.

In 2003 his friend Sean visited Brisbane in the USS Blue Ridge, so Des flew there to meet and spend time with him. He was treated like a king on the ship and again got access to all areas.

Pistol Club trips weekend Qantas cancelled all flights

Point Turton Caravan Park. Only same sex couple in caravan park. Grey nomad couples. “I bet the girls will have heaps of jobs lined up for us when we get home”.

Parsons Beach where he felt most at peace and shared so many happy times with his children and grand children.

Elliston/Venus Bay, Bairds Bay, Gawler Ranges (Jobby mounds)

Funny stuff

There are so many funny anecdotes I could tell that we would be here all day. So perhaps they are best left for later this afternoon when we have a few drinks and celebrate Des’s life in the way he would of wanted us to.

Telemarketers Indian telemarketer ringing his home. Hello Mr Steeley. How are you today Sir? No very well I am afraid. Just come back from the doctor and I have to take ……………….. bowels……….Thanks very much for ringing to see how I am.

Feigning dementia when getting phone calls from the Tax Office or Centrelink.

Garry Johnson’s 50^th “I thought I was coming to a 50^th not a beauty pageant”

Matthews wedding, “I forgot how attractive you were.”

PASSIONS

Football, Motorcycles, Police Pistol Club, Small boat club, sailing The Alana, Enfield RSL, Fishing, The sea, The Police Club, His many Dogs including Kelly Dog,

The Family shack at Parsons beach, Reading

Parsons Beach was where he felt most at peace and shared so many happy times with his children and grand children.

Desisims

Fair component of fuck all
F1
It’s a wonderful thing we are doing
IGA and family court. Checkout guy. That is more than I got for my last visit to the Family Court.
Minlaton Bakery. Can you tell me my name and where I live
You need a new computer. Either that or a psychiatrist.
Indian sales man at door who lost his shoe and never came back.
Jehovah’s witnesses at front door. ‘Absolute Drama’
Oh you want sugar as well. I suppose you want Milk.

Apart from good times, Des has always been there for me through difficult and challenging times.

Operations

Des had a few Operations over his life. He had both knees replaced one in 1990 and one about 2006. He wasn’t a good patient and absolutely hated being in hospital.

After his last Knee Op the nurses found him wandering around Memorial hospital at night with no pants on trying to rescue everyone from train accident.
Memorial Hospital when he had his knee OP. He hated the hospital food and wanted me a to bring him a Villi’s pie. He sat there Munching it in ecstasy saying “Graham I can feel all the goodness going right through me, doing me good” I asked him about the cholesterol and he told me he couldn’t see any.
Bad patient. Nurses kept coming in and opening the curtains. He would get up and close them.

The Heart Valve

Last year Des was told he would have to have an Aortic valve replacement. As you can imagine he wasn’t happy about this, but fortunately he got on an experimental program to have this procedure done by catheter rather than thoracic surgery. After lots and lots of testing to see if he was suitable candidate and numerous delays, he finally had the procedure done in April this year. He was only in hospital about 10 days and the results were remarkable. He recovered quickly, looked and felt better, had more energy and I used the analogy that it was like dropping a new engine in an old Holden. I really thought he had dodged a bullet and got himself another 10 years. He was looking forward to the future and was even in the process of downsizing to a smaller home so he could enjoy life a bit more, with more financial choices and without the worries of home maintenance and upkeep. Sadly that hasn’t eventuated. Des wanted Sue and I to meet him to inspect a Unit he was looking at moving to last Tuesday but he never arrived. All I can tell you is that he passed away so quickly at home, that he would not of known anything about it. This is what he wanted. Des was absolutely terrified of having a stroke or some other ailment that meant spending his remaining years in a vegetative state.

Des had many dear friends from all walks of life and it would be impossible to acknowledge you all today, except to say you know who you are and how much you meant to him. I would however, like to specially thank Des’s neighbour and friend Ray Burman, who saw him nearly every day and was a great help to Des and a carer to Kelly Dog.

Des was funny, intelligent, irreverent and proudly politically incorrect and we loved him for that. His sense of humour and wit was incredible. In many ways Des was an 18 year old in an 86 year old body. He was an inspiration to us all that, that life is meant to be lived. It has been an honour to have shared so many years with Des on his journey through life. Addios Amigo and Rest In Peace mate. We will all miss you and Kelly Dog so very very much. Thank you.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Eulogy by Rowan Steele

Dad was born on the 11th July in 1928 at Wayville to James and Isla Steele.

He had one sister Patricia with which he had a typical brother/sister relationship. Sometimes teasing, sometimes competitive but always loving.

Grandad Steele was a teacher at Prince Alfred College and that’s where Dad went. He played footy for PAC and still caught up with old school mates at the reunions.

When Dad finished school he travelled up to Darwin as Registrar for Mines. Tales from the territory always provided us kids, and his friends with lots of entertaining stories.

He raced motorbikes up there for a while and became a bit of a local celebrity, not only for the enthusiastic way he embraced the Territory lifestyle but for his skills on an old BSA scrambler.

Back in Adelaide, Dad had a few jobs but the main one was Probation and Parole Officer for Correctional Services. Sometimes Dad could whinge for Australia but it was this job that he enjoyed the most, both on the job and all the friends he made (outside of the lock-ups of course).

In Adelaide, Dad met and married our mum. That’s where Alana & I came into the picture.

That wasn’t meant to be and after a while he met and married Roberta. They had two children and Alana and I scored two sisters, Amanda & Rebecca.

That wasn’t meant to be either and Dad eventually remarried again. This one really wasn’t mean to be but on the up-side it bought Matthew into our lives. Dad loved Matt with all his heart and adopted him into our family. Dad finally learnt his lesson and found some stability with Helen as his girlfriend.

All us kids had an atypical upbringing but I mean that in the best possible way and none of us would swap it for quids. We were always surrounded by dogs, motorbikes and a rough and tumble lifestyle that looking back on it always makes me smile and makes me feel the better for it. Most of us can remember seeing a bit too much when Dad would walk around the house in his lap-lap or in a pair of speedos with the elastic gone out of it. That’s why in later years we got him board shorts to wear around the house and on the boat.

Dad loved life, loved a laugh, loved women, loved a beer, loved his kids and his grand-kids, loved his mates, loved pouring money into his boats (well maybe not loved that part) and of course he loved Kelly-dog.

All of you here have your stories of shared good times with Dad and he’d be stoked you came here to pay your respects. He’d also want you not to be upset. We all loved Dad and have some great memories we’ll keep with us. That’s exactly what Dad would want. He’d want everyone to remember the times they shared with a smile, a laugh and a beer.

If anyone is keen, we’ll be heading back to the old Police Club in Carrington Street for some beers, laughs and storytelling.

Lastly, I just want to thank you all for coming today and finish off by quoting Dad:

“It’s a wonderful thing we’re doing”.

Love you pop.

Better Hard Work (or Work Hard)

Posted on 04/11/2014 by Ian

I am sitting at my computer typing as that is the only part of my body that can move. My wife and I just spent all day gardening at a property that we own that we suspect the tenants lived an alternate lifestyle of never going into the garden.

This was the second day in a row (last night I went to be at 9.00 pm and slept for 11 hours without stirring before getting up today and going back to the property).

We had a good day. It was worthwhile work and was fulfilling.

At one stage (it was 27 degrees so it was warm) we were ready to chuck it in but decided to attack a Triffid that had grown in the front yard which had a root base the size of Tasmanian. After about 2 hours we had dug it out; the trailer looked like a teetering tower of sticks and my arms looked like they had hung out the phone box in the horror scene from Alfred Hitchcocks ‘The Birds’ (Sorry if you don’t get this reference, but it was a horror movie that scared us all in the 70’s or was it the 60’s) (Sorry, but I also have to mention last night I told a joke to my 21 year old daughter about two eskimos who were in their kayak and were cold so they lit a fire – the fire of course burnt their kayak and they drowned – I said the moral of the story was “That you can’t have you kayak and heat it too” – she didn’t get it, and I felt old…..)

So, today we did some worthwhile work that was fulfilling. I think the main thing was that we weren’t sitting at a desk doing things that didn’t seem important or that didn’t get dirt under your fingernails (Of course all the dirt is gone now as I just stood under the shower for about an hour – no doubt this waste of water created the extinction of a rare North Siberian amoeba….. but I really needed it!).

For the first time in a long time we are having take away pizza for tea, because someone else makes it, cuts it up and brings it to your door – which is about all we can managed at the moment. I am sure the person making the pizza doesn’t think their job is worthwhile, but to me, tonight it was.

The is no profound lesson in today, other than working hard….. somehow…… just feels good.

I would usually link this to my other posts about how I see the world, but, really, I just can’t mange it I am so tired.

I think worthwhile and fulfilling hard work makes me a better man.

Better Driving and Texting!

Posted on 29/10/2014 by Ian

Okay, I had my little rant the other day about High Visibility Safety Vests in Better with Hi-Viz and today I am going to sound like a traffic cop, but I really have had enough and here is the reason.

Beep, Beep….. oh sorry I have to stop writing to check what text I just received.

Not a problem it was from Scoopon about discount face creams from Argentina.

Where was I. Well, I could have been talking to you in the street, getting served in a shop, having a quiet coffee with you just to catch up, out to dinner, or DRIVING! But texting was more important.

Okay as I said in Better thank Mrs Nesmith, we all make mistakes. I have gone a little over the speed limit, changed lanes without indicating, perhaps even been a little late on a traffic light or even popped down to the end of the street before I realised I didn have my seat belt on. But, these were a little bit of inattention (which incidentally is the real reason behind most car crashes) and I try my best not to do them again. I actually bourght myself one of those traffic cameras which records all the time on a continuous loop so that I know Big Brother (Me) is always watching. It has actually made me a calmer and better driver. My mistakes are all now possible Adelaide Crap Driver videos, either from myself or others – the cameras are everywhere!

Beep, beep…. kids going to be late home from school. (Why are they texting at school?)

But, and I yell BUT! Picking up your mobile phone, even if you are stopped at the traffic lights, and checking it or using it for whatever reason in a conscious choice each time you do it to: 1. Break the law and 2. Have all your attention on something else. If you think it doesn’t matter when you are at the traffic lights then remembe when numerous times the car in front doesn’t move when the lights turn green and you note that the person appears to be looking in their lap.

Beep, beep…. just go a new Twitter comment

I know using mobile phones in cars was initially banned because people talking on their phone was dangerous. Lets ramp that up a bit as most people doing it now days are ‘typing a short letter’ or ‘reading a short letter’.

I am sorry (well not really) but would you read a book of quotes as you drive along; each one is only a small snippet and you can glance down and get the general gist; plus if there were pictures next to each quote you could give them a quick glance. Does that sound reasonable. How about watching television while we drive along – I could fully concentrate during the ads!

Beep, Beep…. sorry just found out I can get a discount golf round in California

I just don’t get it. I don’t do it, anymore. About a year ago it suddenly dawned on me that this is one of the stupidest things I do in my life other than smoking, but that’s another story – don’t read my post Better Stop Smoking or Better (Still) Stop Smoking, perhaps get back to me next week on a new day one! Which makes me think why all the uproar about smoking yet only a whimper about not concentrating while you a piloting a half tonne upwards weighing death machine.

Beep, Beep…. unbelievable a dancing cat in a spiderman outfit!

Shouldn’t the road toll be zero, yes zero. I could never understand how the Goverment and Police were happy that we got the road toll under 100. So we were happy that 99 people were killed and thought that was an acceptable loss for having transport and freedom of the roads. What other thing would we say it is okay to randomly sacrifice 99 of our citizens to get something in return – what is worth a life.

Beep, Beep….

Sorry I just found out that my friends kid was killed in a car accident.

Beep, Beep….

Thank God they weren’t using a mobile phone when they crashed.

Only I was doing that to receive the message.

I do make mistakes. I sometimes decide to do things I shouldn’t. I have decided that I do not want my life to end in a car crash where I might take my wife and kids and someone else with me. I did learn to drive more patiently as I describe in my post Better Driving or Dancing and I did put in the camera as described in Better at Driving.

But, all my driving, all my attitudes when on the road, are choices I make.

Being a better man is also about being a better citizen; perhaps in the place where we meet the most strangers in our community, in dangerous circumstances, on the road.

PS: I cant help being me, so when I see someone at the lights using their mobile phone or texting, I just beep my horn twice (Beep… Beep…) and when they look up I pretend it wasn’t me. When they look down again, I do it again, and this sometimes may go on until the lights turn green. Most often though it confuses them so much they put their phone down. This would be a great viral activity, plus it is fun (so long as your wife is not in the car with you!)

Better Wife

Posted on 22/10/2014 by Ian

The other day a mate posted the following fairy tale on Facebook:

I replied that I still did all these things and them made a comment about the availability of sexual encounters in the married world versus the single world.

I wrote this post sitting on the lounge one evening chuckling to myself as I often do when making Facebook posts. My wife asked me if I was deleting all my friends again or making new enemies (she has counselled me many times about drinking and texting and/or FaceBooking – and especially blogging!)

I have to tell you that I am probably one of the luckies men in the world. My wife and I were childhood sweethearts, the product of our parents being life long friends. We had our first encounter in my ‘fort’ (I think the politically correct non-gender name is cubby house). We met after experiencing our lives with others in a chance encounter walking down the street about 30 years after that first fumbly kiss. It then seemed like overnight, we were going out, moved in together, bought a house and got married.

Just for information of the doubters that romance is dead in later life, I did propose on the Eiffel Tower and presented a ring that I had made and carried fearfully in a back pack (my then wife to be was perplexed by the back pack as I had complained so many times about how I thought carrying one was a pain in the arse) all the way from Australia. And if your asking, I did speak to her father first, more as a courtesy: he did ask if I was asking permission and I said not I was telling him.

Both my wife and I had our share of dud, bad and mad relationships before we met. To quote Dr Gordon Livingston in “Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart: Thirty True Things You Need to Know Now, a second (or third!) marriage is the triumph of hope over experience.

And that’s exactly what we are.

However…. our marriage is not a fairy tale of romantic walks along the beach and moonlit dinners. We both wanted this to work more than anything and wanted it to be better than our past ‘things’. We both had the same ideas about a few things but even some of these important things only came out over the last 7 years we have been together, some recently. But, there were a few fundamental things I believe we both have in common:

– We love each other and tell each other often.
– We celebrate our past and learn from it.
– We tell the truth.
– We put the other first.
– We kiss each other hello and goodbye, every time.
– We let the other be themselves, and sometimes when that is not okay, it is okay.

This list is probably endless but I read an article the other day where a young man was about to get married and his father said “Marriage isn’t for you.” You probably guessed it already that marriage is really not for you, it is all about your partner. If you are not happy because they are happy, and if you are not a main contributor to that happiness, then perhaps marriage is for you; and that will be why you end up with you.

This post is called ‘Better Wife’ but really it should be better husband. I think trying to be a better man is about being a better husband. Perhaps not being the best that you can be, but actually being better than you ever thought you could be.

I have my bad days. I am sometimes not so good a husband. But, before you can be better, you have to actually notice what you are now.

I think the worlds shortest fairy tale is “Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl to marry him and she said, no, I want to marry you.”

Better at War

Posted on 05/10/2014 by Ian

I have been working on a post about my circles of authority, responsibility and concern over the last couple of days (I will post it soon but this post just came into my head and needed to be done now…). These circles expand and contract in what seems like a random manner and I and trying to gain some control…. especially over my circle of concern.

But…..

Today (well this week, as it has taken me some time to write this post) we decided to send out troops to Iraq and other places unknown to fight (read advise and assist in missions).

My circle of concern expanded to the entire world as opposed to my usual sphere which is the state of my bowels, the price of smokes and the kids driving me crazy. I started to think about a bloke sitting in his house, with his family, and perhaps his kids and perhaps a couple of goats, and how in a minute, some other people are going to come around, not for a barby and a few beers, but to massacre him and the kids, and probably the goat.

I got to thinking about how this makes me angry.

I have spoken a lot about angry and the links we have in our community with friends, family and of course, the community, and the world. (NB: You may note that I have not made all those links – hyper-links – in this post because I want it to be just about this). I have said in the past that my definition of being a man includes standing up for those who can not stand up for themselves.

And I think about the man, and his wife, and his kids, and his goat and think that it is really unfair that he lives in fear. I want to help him

But….

My step son is not going to war, my step daughter is not going to war, my daughters are not going to war. If they were going to war to defend the man and his family and his goat I would hope that I would understand that this is about doing what is right.

But….

He (or she) is going to war in a part of the world that has been at war for thousands of years. He is going to war in a part of the world that is a lot of desert and a lot of oil. He is going to war in the part of the world that creates wars through religion and has had to defend itself from religion (just thought I would mention in a round about way ‘The Crusades’). He is going to war because someone who won a popularity competition and a whole lot of other people who also won popularity competitions said we should go to war and defend… or sorry was it attack… or sorry was it defend… or sorry was it advise…. or sorry was it disrupt…. or something else… I forget…..

Digression – I am going to have a brain operation and the nurse introduces me to Mr brain surgeon and said that he is the most popular brain surgeon in Australia as he was voted in by everybody else (well at least half of us anyway) that he was supposed to be in charge of brain surgery – and I ask what are his qualifications? and they say he hung around hospitals and talked to a lot of nurses and once drove an ambulance and when he was at university joined a group called the people who want to be brain surgeons which was separate to his studies then a group of people who liked him preselected him to be the local brain surgeon – and that was good as he was being told what to do by the brain surgeons in Canberra and then he became the top State brain surgeon and then rode a bed down King William Street saying he was going to ban pokies and after there were more pokies in South Australia he went to Canberra to be one of the brain surgeons who were opposed to the other brain surgeons then he was voted by his friends who were the brain surgeons to be the top brain surgeon of his friends and then all the people said he could be the top brain surgeon and operate on any brains he wanted – but he had lots of advisers who once wanted to be brain surgeons or who knew brain surgeons and then told him what to do and he did it so long as everyone liked him…..

So we, not the brain surgeons or the rest of us, are going to war.

I hate it That this man and his family and his goat, may be killed.

I hate it when you put your hand in a bucket of water and pull it out and it doesn’t leave a hole and even when you stir up the water you can look in a moment and it looks just the same as before.

Are we stirring the water with our men and women: our soldiers lives.

We love our Australian soldiers as they are brave, honest, fearless and no matter what they fight for, they make us proud….. Why, because they fight for the ideals, beliefs and values that we uphold, but they live them in the dirt and the dust and the blood and the death that we lament in a 10 second grab on the news just before the sport and the anticipation of the outcome of the Bachelor. (Makes you gag a bit doesn’t it…)

Are we getting operated on by brain surgeons who have won a popularity competition. If we knew the name of the man and his family and his goat, would we say, come to Australia and be my neighbour, but bring your own bucket and don’t stir up the water.

I don’t want the man and his family and his goat to not feel safe in his house as I do in mine….. But I don’t want our sons and daughters to die for the winner of a popularity contest who is mates with another winner of a popularity contest who have decided to stand up to a bully by proxy.

I hate bullies, but….. I think we should kill all the bullies, but then wouldn’t I be a bully….

It hurts my heart to think of the man and his family and his goat.

Again, as in many of my posts, I am sorry, and feel sorry for his deleamour.

But, today, I say…. Against just about everything I believe in….. I can’t help, because in doing so it would hurt me and my family and my goat, too much.

Plus, just one more thing. I didn’t vote for this.

I know if I was the better man, with my family and my goat, I would not say send your sons and daughters to die for me. Really, I am sorry, but I know you will understand. And, I do.

Better in the morning

Posted on 25/08/2014 by Ian

This is just a quick post, because it is morning and we are all in a hurry…..

Well usually.

I am still in Bali and I captured my morning in the attached picture….

I was thinking how I usually spend my mornings rushing to go somewhere, usually late, kids and family also rushing, hurried breakfasts, mad drives to work with all the traffic working deliberately just against you (see my post on Bali driving)

So this morning it is a quick post to say, don’t miss the morning, don’t miss that moment when your day is just starting and might just be the best day of your life.

I have missed too many mornings, which led to bad days.

I am not always better in the mornings, but I think I will take a little more time to notice….. Wonder how I will go when I am back home….?

Have a better day, have a better morning.

Better Experience the Presents

Posted on 01/08/2014 by Ian

I think we all love presents. Some of us love receiving them more and some of us love giving them more. The best part is giving or receiving a present that is just right. That you love it, or the person you are giving it to, loving it as you imagined they would when you got it.

Just as a side note I love presents almost as much as I love the card that goes with it. I love making cards, I love giving cards and I love getting cards (and let Screen Shot 2014-07-03 at 11.25.00 pm ters!). One of my favourite cards is the one I made for my Mum a few years ago I talked about it in Better Presents. I just love making home made cards!

But there is one thing about getting presents which over the last couple of years (well decades for me) is that they are mostly just things. Can you remember what you got for your last Birthday from the one you love, or your kids, or what you gave them. Well, up until a few years ago I would have probably said no, but over the last couple of years I can tell you in the most minute detail the presents that counted the most. The reason is that a few years ago a girl I worked with was acting weird. She had this stash of dry biscuits and home brand tuna in the cupboard which she was having for lunch on the days she actually had any lunch. She was not coming out for coffee or a drink after work. Any plans for a farewell or birthday lunch were always undertaken without her, including the donation for the present. Suddenly one day it all changed and she was back to ‘normal’.

So it did beg the question about what had been going on. I, of course did ask it and got the reply I didn’t expect, but, it was also the reply that changed my life.

Just digressing, it is important to notice the small moments or individuals that change your life. I find it interesting when I look back and often I only realise when I look back, that it was at a particular moment that something did change my life, and often momentously. It is often that we don’t notice these moments until we take the time to look back and try and figure out how we go to the present. But, other times your life changes because you make a decision and say, ‘time for a change.’ This story about presents and the girl in my office is about making such a decision.

Anyway…. she told me she could go back to normal spending because she had bought the tickets for her and her husband to travel to the Maldives for his 50th birthday. She had saved all her lunch money, drinks money and anything else she could scrap together to buy the tickets to surprise him. She had to do it this way to keep it a surprise so the money would be obviously missing from their bank account. She also told me that this is what they always did for birthdays. Maybe not always such a big surprise, but always a something involving an EXPERIENCE. She said that the gifts they alway gave and received would get lost in time, or broken, or just wore out. But she said the memories of those ‘special experiences’ were n me 3 - chris 5 in back yard para hills - cropped ever broken, never wore out and most of all never got lost in time. The present of the experience was a gift forever.

I got to thinking about all the presents I had received or given over the years and realised that some, the ones I actually remembered, had an ‘experience’ attached to them. I remembered the scooters my Dad had bought us when we were young, and I realised I remembered them because they were second had, and he had painted them, and the small amount of money they had cost was a lot of money to them – I can only just picture the scooter, but I can feel the scooter like it was yesterday. I also remember the red plastic football my brother and I had. We could never quite work out why it didn’t sound like a ‘real’ football when we kicked it.

The other experiences, some presents, some just holidays, some just time with family and the gifts from my past, I remember like I unwrapped them yesterday. So, I got to thinking that it is not too late to stop looking for my presents in the shops and start looking for them in the memories I want to make.

Screen Shot 2014-08-01 at 4.11.39 pm So, of recent years my family will always remember swimming with the dolphins, going to the circus and travelling to Bali. The presents of our experiences get to be unwrapped again and again every time we think about them.

The presents of the future we don’t have to search the internet or the shops for, we just have to be there.

Give me a real card in my hand with a note you wrote; give me a big table with as much food as laughter; don’t give me selfies give me one big group shot; stay for 5 minutes or 5 hours but be present the whole time you’re there; give me a hug when you arrive and another when you leave and you give the best present of all – yourself, your time and your memories.

Being A Better Man

Who never made a mistake, never made a discovery….

Category Archives: Better as a Husband

Better (the best) Mum

My Eulogy

For my Mum

Gloria Dawn Schlein

17/10/1929 – 14/12/2014

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Better at Child Support

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Better with the ONLY Commodity

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Better with Des Steele, my friend.

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Better Hard Work (or Work Hard)

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Better Driving and Texting!

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Better Wife

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Better at War

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Better in the morning

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Better Experience the Presents

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My Eulogy

For my Mum

Gloria Dawn Schlein

17/10/1929 – 14/12/2014

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