Write about a memory inspired by
either three of your own photographs
Chic (my husband) : cat (ours) : camera (his, but not a professional one)
There’s an acronymic kind of threesome for you! These photos, while all being of my husband who’s no longer with me, are also of the same one of our cats. His name was Doctor McCoy (no, sorry; you’re going to have to work out for yourselves the names of his two brothers …), and he was lovingly known as The Doctor – when we had long since given up watching that show.
Chic – whom I always called ‘Stringer’ to his face, but ‘Chic’ to other people … which just goes to show that I am far from dependable, as I’ve called him both in my blog – built us a house. From go to whoa. From idea -> plans -> their submission to local council -> quantity surveying -> ordering -> arranging delivery to a small island in the middle of a large river -> actually building it. He wasn’t a dummy, not by so long a shot as to win any prizes for distance. :-)
It was a dreaming kind of time, while he was making us a place of our own. You can tell that it would have been from the first of the three photos: Dangar Island is in a bend of the mighty Hawkesbury River, on the northern extremity of what’s called ‘the greater Sydney area’, and is quite breathtaking. The house that Chic built was the same.
I was working for one of the major commercial TV channels in Sydney throughout most of the build, and would come home every Tuesday–Saturday in gleeful anticipation of what new thing there would be for me to see. The Doctor was not working – he was the sole member of the trio of whom I write not to be doing so, as is always the way for moggies (and so it should be!). Chic|Stringer was working his hide off creating our house, and we were all happy in what we were doing.
The Doctor was possibly the happiest of all, as he absolutely adored Chic, and decided that the house-building was THE way to be close to him at all times. If you look carefully at the photo where Chic’s up on the 1st storey and The Doctor is standing near the front edge, you will realize that one walked up the built ramp to the wall, but one then had to climb a short vertical ladder to reach the roof. This our moggy did, every day! I will admit that at going back to the rented premises time, Chic would go first, stand on the top of the ramp and lift him down onto it. If truth be known, he had to do this on occasion during the day, as The Doctor was now allowed to do his business anywhere on the house. [grin]
I don’t remember with accuracy, but I suppose it took him about a year to finish, and in fact he never finished the interiors. We had all the wiring, all the plumbing, all the furnishings – but we never had any wall-linings or ceilings! Who cared? – not we! We were young enough to be joyful without need for perfection; and we LOVED our house that Chic built. With help from The Doctor.