My mother is a very wise woman. Over the years, she has given me a lot of advice, some of which I’ve even taken. The only independence is financial independence, comes to mind. Learn to say no to your children. Don’t trust a man in white shoes – oh wait, that was Grandma.
Unfortunately, there has been other advice I’ve, er, disregarded. Like the time she told me not to wear the pink stockings with the pink boots and the Daisy Duke shorts. All I can say is that it was the 1980s. But perhaps it is the reason behind my penchant for basics.
The latest piece of advice that has fallen by the wayside happened quite by accident. “Don’t buy appliances that beep at you,” she said to me one morning last year when I was enjoying a cup of coffee in the kitchen of the family homestead. I laughed. Sure I’d do that. Who would?
She would. That’s who. Her microwave emits an annoying (and regular) beeping noise if you don’t open the door as soon as it has finished cooking. It’s incredibly irritating. But I smiled to myself, thinking it was a parental aberration. After all, this is the lady who has a very glamorous clock that plays showtunes on the hour, complete with visual effects. Also the woman who has a collection of elves/gnomes/Christmas trees that sing various rock’n’roll tunes. Loudly. If anyone’s going to attract things that beep, it’s my mother.
Then I went home and realised that my fridge is one such appliance. Leave the door open too long, fail to close it up tight, and it beeps long and loud to let you know. Oh well, I thought, it’s only one, putting the whole conversation out of my mind.
A few weeks ago, I bought a new microwave. Guess what? It beeps. I checked the box – nowhere does it advertise beeping. I read the instruction book – not so much as a pip, a chirp or a ping. How’s a girl to know? It should be writ large somewhere that the electrical item you’re buying will give you an electronic ‘hurry up’ if you don’t do your job right.
It’s just what every mum needs. Another demanding little voice in her ear.
It’s not just the audible beeping either. My computer is on 24/7, offering non-stop access to all the fun of the internet. I lose hours when I just ‘pop on’ to check emails or visit Facebook or Twitter. Somehow I feel that if I walk past without looking I’ll miss something. If that’s not an inaudible beep, I don’t know what is.
So yesterday, I decided to pull the plug. Literally. I turned it off, went outside (away from the beeping microwave and fridge) and watered the garden.
The roses are enjoying one last flush of flowers thanks to the Indian summer. Purple spikes of salvia, pale grey lavender leaves, sunset-coloured grevillea… Without the buzz of technology to distract me, I was able to soak up the colours, sights and sounds of my little patch. Especially the sounds. It was so quiet out there that I could almost hear the rustle of the huge huntsman spider that’screeping across the front of the Fibro v-e-e-ry slowly (been there for days).
And I remembered another piece of Mum’s advice: Don’t project, Allison. Get on with now. Or words to that effect.
Good advice. I really should listen to my mother more often.