Milestones and sibling differences

Ten years ago, it was a small black smudge on the landscape. Now, Stan’s 30th birthday has moved from that distant point on the horizon. “When it arrives, I’m going to feel old and even if I don’t everybody is going to remind me I’m no longer 20,” he remembers thinking. Now the big day awaits, just round the corner.

Life has changed since he was 20. His mother, back then, was still preparing his work sandwiches, serving him soup, ensuring his work clothes were laundered and ironed.

Now he’s doing much the same for his two young sons — Delton and Adrian. He’s come to grips with the art of truncated sleep.

“It’s a lot like a dietitian’s version of grazing,” he jokes. “You sleep in instalments before the ‘alarm bell’ goes off in the crib beside the master bed.” The said alarm takes the form of a playful coo or a resonating wail, depending on circumstance.

Stan and his wife Leanne share the circumstantial tasks — preparing baby cereal, sterilising bottles, changing diapers. Family drops by from time to time to offer assistance — a spot of baby-sitting that allows the two of them to venture out to see a movie or have dinner. Even his very contrary sister, Maggie, has visited — albeit rarely.

“Mag’s philosophy is alternative ... on nearly everything. It’s almost oppositional and could be embarrassing, annoying even, if it weren’t for the fact she’s my sister,” laughs Stan.

When one meets Maggie it is true one finds her unconventional. It isn’t commonplace after all to see a woman smoking a pipe. Additionally, it’s rather previous-century! Also, history is littered with pictures of pipe-smoking men, but I’m yet to see one of a woman. At least, I’ve had to wait until the 21st Century to witness it in person and find it hard to look away, not appear inquisitive.

Not that Maggie minds or notices. She and her husband Mick could easily be survivors from a previous age. Their country house — built with their own hands — stands in isolated woodland deep in the southern highlands. Mick is often hard to spot behind the beard, but when he gets chatting he is — in an equally unconventional way — extremely engaging. He is well read and has a talent for narrating anecdotes humorously.

Their five children are literally products of the land — every one of them, from 11-year-old Seth to two-year-old Barbara contributes to the upkeep of the house and all that it takes to keep it running. This includes helping Mick with the tractor in the field behind — where they grow their own vegetables, including potatoes. Two cows supply all the milk they need.

There is a new acquisition — a digital radio — but apart from that, nothing modern or present-day is to be found inside the house. A television, yes. But no laptops, iPods or iPads or mobile phones. An old record changer and a collection of vinyl albums with Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours being the last LPs bought.

Upstairs, however, wall to wall is lined with books. It is here, when the children are back from school and done helping with home tasks, that they gravitate.

Leanne has been making careful preparations for Stan’s oncoming 30th. “It’s a huge milestone in a man’s life and one we need to celebrate. So we’re throwing a big party,” she says. She’s had invites printed and posted to family and friend, requesting RSVPs so that catering can be organised precisely. Maggie is the only one not attending. She and her family. Not that they are too distant. It’s just that Maggie has her own take on parties. “What, after all, is your host’s purpose in having a party?” she asks with a winning grin, paraphrasing P.J. O’Rourke, “Surely not for you to enjoy yourself; if that were their sole purpose, they’d have simply sent the food and drinks over to our place ... by taxi.” It’s hard to tell if she speaks in jest.

Kevin Martin is a journalist based in Sydney, Australia.