The First Of Many Stories

I was living on my own and new to the area, feeling a tad detached from society. Fortunately, I had some motivators—three of them actually, known as Fox Terrier crosses, and it was because of my commitment to walking my dogs that I met Wal.

His house backed onto Blackwall mountain, where I would exercise my canine family at least once a day. On our dog walk I would admire people’s gardens, hoping that I would one day have a house I owned so that I could plant what I wanted, where I wanted. At that moment I was renting, but still creating a beautiful garden, one that was full of all types of plants, some natives and herbs, even with the knowledge that one day I could be thrown out, along with my garden.

There was a particular vegetable garden I admired on my daily walk. Being a grass-roots type of person, things like fresh veggies are very important to me. One day, I was peering over this particular fence, as the tomatoes were in abundance, and an elderly man with very white hair popped up and said, “Good Morning!” and that was that.

From that day forward, Wal and I sparked up a friendship which lasted many years. It started with cups of tea shared at his house, as well as vegetable-growing advice. Actually, advice about everything, whether I asked for it or not.

We progressed onto coffee and cake at local cafes, which was a lot of fun. Wal loved it when people thought we were married. I didn’t! He was thirty years older than me.

Another fabulous pastime we both shared was going through peoples throw-out piles and finding treasures. An old picture frame, building materials, vintage chairs — you name it, we salvaged it. I remember one house we went back to three times, as my car was only small and we couldn't fit all our stash in one go. That time it was a chandelier and I hung it in my garden.

We had a lot of laughs. I had a lot of cries. I don’t think men from that era ever cried, but Wal always made me a cuppa and listened. It was just a lovely friendship!