We have two more mouths to feed as of today. I say we because, even though most of my posts have just been about me (well, enough about me, what do you think about me?), there is more than just me that makes up this unit.
There is my wife. I say wife because we were married on our property a little over three years ago. A celebrant came and performed the ceremony. Our friends and family gathered to witness our union. We crafted our vows together, shopped for our wedding outfits, organised a caterer, set up a party space and, on the day, we both had those permanent ‘wedding smiles’ you see on the faces of all those couples you’ve seen get married. You know, the ones that just can’t be wiped off; every photo of them, together or with others, has them standing there with a stupid grin on their face and the next morning they wake up and their face actually hurts because they were smiling so much. Yeah, that wedding smile.
Of course, as we live in Australia, we are still not equal to most people living in Australia; we can’t actually get legally married. There is no capacity in our country at this stage, because, according to the Marriage Act amendment instigated by ex PM John Howard, and agreed to by the then Labor opposition, marriage is between a man and a woman only. This must be stated by the celebrant at the ceremony, every time, prescribed wording in fact. If the celebrant can’t state that and be telling the truth then there is no legal marriage. I’m not a man and neither is my wife, so we don’t fit the criteria for marriage in our country. It’s doesn’t really matter. I still feel married. I still know that my family and her family witnessed our ceremony and saw us make a commitment to each other but it still, in many ways, makes my relationship seem less important or less legitimate than my sister’s (she married a man).
I know this because my mother rings me to remind me that it is my sister’s wedding anniversary (I know mum, they got married the day before my wife’s birthday) but doesn’t send me an anniversary card for my wedding date. I know this because, now that my sister is married to a man, if either of them dies intestate the other’s worldly goods will go to the surviving partner, but if that happens in my relationship… well suffice to say I’ve made a will.
I thought I might avoid politics in this blog but it does seem that the personal is political. When I write about my relationship as a marriage I am making a political statement. I am not here to debate the merits of marriage equality, though. I’ll leave that to other more eloquent people.
Anyway, I digressed, as I was introducing you to the ‘we’. The other part of the ‘we’ is my 20yo daughter (hereafter referred to as ‘the pup’). She did leave home when she was 18 but was back 18 months later, needing some time and space to recoup and regain her confidence. She is almost ready to leave again (nearly a year later) and has been busy looking at places to rent with some friends. In the meantime, she has been chief animal wrangler while I’ve been out of action with sciatica (when she’s here, of course).
And the mouths I referred to? Well, we are now the careers for two extra chickens, refugees from their home country which was being invaded by foxes (their other two friends were taken in brazen daylight raids). That brings our animal total to:
Five chickens, and
I don’t think the two extra chickens will cause too much of a burden on our family, and they might provide a pleasant surprise for the pup when she goes in to lock them up on her first night back home since we gained them.
I’m sure there will be more posts about the animal circus we are developing here. The wife wants them all; goats, alpacas, sheep, cows, pigs, but I have resisted so far. We need a bloody good holiday first.