Winifred the Wombat loved collecting rocks. She was like her Grandpa.
Grandpa Wilf had been a wandering wombat in his day. He had been to many places. If the place was special, he would collect a rock. So his wombat burrow was full of memory stones ….. Quite a collection, and some were very beautiful; like the green jasper he collected on Mount Hay.
Grandpa Wilf was very old. He told Winifred’s brother Wally: "One night I will die, but I want you to have my collection of rocks."
One night, of course, old Grandpa Wilf did die. Wally had all the rocks, except for the beautiful green jasper. It was not there.
Wally said, "I wonder who stole the green rock!"
All the wombats in Wally’s family wondered. Somebody said: "It’ll be Winifred. She always loved that special rock."
Winifred said, "No! I did not take the rock, even if I always wanted it." But the Wombats were not so sure! They always thought Winifred took the green stone. "She’s hidden it somewhere!"
No matter what Winifred said, they did not believe her.
The nights, the months, and the years passed.
For a wombat, Winifred had a strange friend. He was Wedgie the Wedge-tail eagle. Winifred and Wedgie liked to talk in the early evening. Wedgie was ready to go to sleep in his nest, high up in the gum tree; and Winifred was just waking up for the night ahead. They talked about mostly anything.
One night, Wedgie said: "I know what happened to the green stone! I know where it is! I got up early today and I saw old William the wombat looking at the green stone, just as the sun was coming up. Then he took it down into his burrow. I s’pose he went to sleep for the day."
Winifred was sort of mixed up. Sort of happy and unhappy. She did not know what to say.
Wedgie said: "I suppose we could steal it back from old William." Then he said: " But I think that would be too hard. You know Winifred, bad things sometimes happen to good wombats like you, that’s life! You can’t do much about it."
Winifred just said: "Hmmm. I don’t know. Maybe."
Then Wedgie said, "Goodnight!" He flew up into his high up nest to go to sleep.
Then late one afternoon Wedgie flew to Winifred and said: "I’ve got another surprise for you. I have an Uncle who is a wandering Wedge-tail eagle with a name a bit like mine. He is called Uncle Widgie.
Winifred said: "What’s surprising about that?"
"Let me finish!" said Wedgie.
"When I told my Uncle Widgie your story, he said, "We can do something about it!"
Next day flew off, far, far away. He flew all the way to Mount Hay, and he found another beautiful green and orange jasper stone. Here it is. You can have it. Now you have your own special rock. Isn’t that wonderful?"
Winifred said: "I’m so happy! The mystery is solved. But I’m still sad that I got into trouble for something I didn’t do. Most of all, I want to say thank you Wedgie, for this lovely rock."
Now Winifred was happy, all because of her friend Wedgie.
© Ian Higgins, 2009
A STRANGE WOMBAT STORY
Wilfred the wombat woke up early one night and said to the other wombats, Why do we have such skinny holes? Our burrows are too tight! Why can’t we make them bigger? Really wide? Why not?
We have always done it that way. If it’s good enough for us, it’s good enough for you. What’s more it would be too much extra work, all that more digging.
One night Wilfred got up early and dug his walls wider. He was so happy, with lots more room, so much more space. I like interior space and a lot more air, he said.
One of the other wombats said, Must be a lot of space between your ears. You are not a normal hairy nose wombat. You’re an air head wombat. What’s more said another wombat, If a snake gets into your burrow, you wont be able to squash it against the wall or roof to kill it.
I will just chase the snake out. Live and let live: I say.
You’re strange. Very strange.
One night Wilfred got up early and said, Why don’t we all go off and find a better place with more space? This valley is very narrow. It’s cramped. It does not let in much moonlight. We could find a broad wide big view place.
Oh no, they said. We are all happy here.
One night Wilfred got up early and said, I’ve got a new friend. She agrees with me. We are going off to find a new place with lots of space. My friend? Enid the anteater.
A wombat friends with an ant eater? You are very strange.
One night Wilfred and Enid got up early and went off in the moonlight to find a place, where they would feel free.
They had lots of adventures: too many to tell: like crossing the river on a friendly-vegetarian-eating-crocodile’s back.
One night all the other wombats got up early and made such a noise by talking so loudly about what ever happened to that odd couple Wilfred and Enid. They talked so loudly they woke up Yellow Bird.
Yellow Bird said, I have seen them. I will tell you. They live in a very big wombat burrow on the side of a hill with a wide view. On a full moon clear sky night, they can see all the way to the bay and the moonlight on the bay.
Oh, said the other wombats. That’s strange.
And what’s more, said Yellow Bird, Would you believe this? Some old bats thought their burrow was a cave. It is so BIG. The bats have moved in also.
Oh we don’t like that sort; no, no, no. said the wombats.
Yes, said Yellow Bird, I agree; but what seems funny to me is ENID AND WILFRED ARE HAPPY. That is strange.
After that strange news, all the wombats went off to sleep.
© Ian Higgins, 2009
We have always done it that way. If it’s good enough for us, it’s good enough for you. What’s more it would be too much extra work, all that more digging.
One night Wilfred got up early and dug his walls wider. He was so happy, with lots more room, so much more space. I like interior space and a lot more air, he said.
One of the other wombats said, Must be a lot of space between your ears. You are not a normal hairy nose wombat. You’re an air head wombat. What’s more said another wombat, If a snake gets into your burrow, you wont be able to squash it against the wall or roof to kill it.
I will just chase the snake out. Live and let live: I say.
You’re strange. Very strange.
One night Wilfred got up early and said, Why don’t we all go off and find a better place with more space? This valley is very narrow. It’s cramped. It does not let in much moonlight. We could find a broad wide big view place.
Oh no, they said. We are all happy here.
One night Wilfred got up early and said, I’ve got a new friend. She agrees with me. We are going off to find a new place with lots of space. My friend? Enid the anteater.
A wombat friends with an ant eater? You are very strange.
One night Wilfred and Enid got up early and went off in the moonlight to find a place, where they would feel free.
They had lots of adventures: too many to tell: like crossing the river on a friendly-vegetarian-eating-crocodile’s back.
One night all the other wombats got up early and made such a noise by talking so loudly about what ever happened to that odd couple Wilfred and Enid. They talked so loudly they woke up Yellow Bird.
Yellow Bird said, I have seen them. I will tell you. They live in a very big wombat burrow on the side of a hill with a wide view. On a full moon clear sky night, they can see all the way to the bay and the moonlight on the bay.
Oh, said the other wombats. That’s strange.
And what’s more, said Yellow Bird, Would you believe this? Some old bats thought their burrow was a cave. It is so BIG. The bats have moved in also.
Oh we don’t like that sort; no, no, no. said the wombats.
Yes, said Yellow Bird, I agree; but what seems funny to me is ENID AND WILFRED ARE HAPPY. That is strange.
After that strange news, all the wombats went off to sleep.
© Ian Higgins, 2009
RETIRING WILLY WOMBAT
Willy Wombat doesn’t feel he’s old but he has grey hair and some is falling out. He doesn’t run as fast as he used to. Then some nights he imagines he could, if he has to. He still feels young, not like his grandfather. When he was Willy’s age now, he was old, really old.
So Willy is surprised one night, when all the family comes to visit, at once, to give their opinions. Can’t tell the next generation anything - they know it all.
Well! Right here in his burrow is his daughter Winifred, and her partner Woebegone and even their off spring, Wendy and Wilhemena, who all say in unison, before Willy can get a word in, “Grandpa, it’s time for you to retire.”
They’re holding a big beautifully wrapped present.
“I’m not really old enough.” Willy protests.
“Oh yes you are!” they say in chorus again, which isn’t very nice but probably true enough.
“You don’t need to keep digging your burrow bigger and bigger, Wendy and Wilhemena can come for a sleepover any day. There’s heaps of room; and you’ve already dug up enough wattle roots to last a lifetime. And if you get into trouble we’ll help you out.”
They all seem so convinced; if not convincing!
Deep down Willy knows he’s run out of puff…. a little that is!
“Okay Okay”, he agrees. Now they give him his parcel and when he unwraps it, with some help from Wendy and Wilhemena, he finds he’s the proud owner of a beautiful striped deck chair.
For the first few nights it’s great; just to sit out under the moonlight listening to the frogs cavorting in the billabong; just relaxing - taking it easy.
It’s just like being on holiday.
One night he muses, “I wonder how long before I go to the big billabong with many burrows in the sky.”. Then a bit later he thinks, “The closer I get to that time, the more I’m not so sure about that big billabong… just have to wait and see.”
After a few nights Willy is bored: very bored.
So he does some little wombat minding. However, after a night of looking after lively little wombats - he’s very tired, to say the least.
So he begins to make some decisions for his new stage in life.
He decides every full moon he’ll visit old wombat friends. He does that for awhile, and then invites them back to his pad, and becomes the great entertainer.
Then one night one of the old, or more correctly senior, wombats says, “You ought to join the U3A or Wombus. Willy joins Wombus and the U3A and listens to other old wombats tell their life experiences and they go on lots of trips. They get nick-named 'the grey wanderers' and they love to sing “we love go a wandering along the wombat ways.” and other senior songs like that.
Willy puts himself down for some short courses in U3A with not so short titles like “The indigenous flora around billabongs.’’ “The base rock formations under your burrows”, “Elementary kookaburra language” And one he really enjoys, “Obscure galaxies of the southern night sky’’.
Some nights when he’s actually at home in his own burrow there always seems to be so much to do.
One night, surprise of surprises, a distant relative Winifred call in . She’s a cousin twice removed but younger that Willy, by a long shot.
“Do you get bored now you’re retired?” She asks. And then the difficult question, “What do in all your spare time?”
“Spare time you call it! I’m so busy, I don’t even have time to sit in my retirement deck chair. It’s just go, go, go!"
She interrupts, “But you must have heaps of time to do whatever you like.”
“No way! I’m old and I’m afraid time will run out before I do all things I want to do.”
“Oh!” says Winifred.
“Don’t worry, you’ll understand when you retire.”
“By the way, it’s lucky you called in tonight, because tomorrow night I’m off with my retired wombat friends to see a new billabong we’ve never seen before. It’s almost daylight now and I’ve got to get a good day’s sleep before the trip; so good night to you Winifred.”
And Willy soon fell asleep to dream of his next adventure.
© Ian Higgins, 2009
So Willy is surprised one night, when all the family comes to visit, at once, to give their opinions. Can’t tell the next generation anything - they know it all.
Well! Right here in his burrow is his daughter Winifred, and her partner Woebegone and even their off spring, Wendy and Wilhemena, who all say in unison, before Willy can get a word in, “Grandpa, it’s time for you to retire.”
They’re holding a big beautifully wrapped present.
“I’m not really old enough.” Willy protests.
“Oh yes you are!” they say in chorus again, which isn’t very nice but probably true enough.
“You don’t need to keep digging your burrow bigger and bigger, Wendy and Wilhemena can come for a sleepover any day. There’s heaps of room; and you’ve already dug up enough wattle roots to last a lifetime. And if you get into trouble we’ll help you out.”
They all seem so convinced; if not convincing!
Deep down Willy knows he’s run out of puff…. a little that is!
“Okay Okay”, he agrees. Now they give him his parcel and when he unwraps it, with some help from Wendy and Wilhemena, he finds he’s the proud owner of a beautiful striped deck chair.
For the first few nights it’s great; just to sit out under the moonlight listening to the frogs cavorting in the billabong; just relaxing - taking it easy.
It’s just like being on holiday.
One night he muses, “I wonder how long before I go to the big billabong with many burrows in the sky.”. Then a bit later he thinks, “The closer I get to that time, the more I’m not so sure about that big billabong… just have to wait and see.”
After a few nights Willy is bored: very bored.
So he does some little wombat minding. However, after a night of looking after lively little wombats - he’s very tired, to say the least.
So he begins to make some decisions for his new stage in life.
He decides every full moon he’ll visit old wombat friends. He does that for awhile, and then invites them back to his pad, and becomes the great entertainer.
Then one night one of the old, or more correctly senior, wombats says, “You ought to join the U3A or Wombus. Willy joins Wombus and the U3A and listens to other old wombats tell their life experiences and they go on lots of trips. They get nick-named 'the grey wanderers' and they love to sing “we love go a wandering along the wombat ways.” and other senior songs like that.
Willy puts himself down for some short courses in U3A with not so short titles like “The indigenous flora around billabongs.’’ “The base rock formations under your burrows”, “Elementary kookaburra language” And one he really enjoys, “Obscure galaxies of the southern night sky’’.
Some nights when he’s actually at home in his own burrow there always seems to be so much to do.
One night, surprise of surprises, a distant relative Winifred call in . She’s a cousin twice removed but younger that Willy, by a long shot.
“Do you get bored now you’re retired?” She asks. And then the difficult question, “What do in all your spare time?”
“Spare time you call it! I’m so busy, I don’t even have time to sit in my retirement deck chair. It’s just go, go, go!"
She interrupts, “But you must have heaps of time to do whatever you like.”
“No way! I’m old and I’m afraid time will run out before I do all things I want to do.”
“Oh!” says Winifred.
“Don’t worry, you’ll understand when you retire.”
“By the way, it’s lucky you called in tonight, because tomorrow night I’m off with my retired wombat friends to see a new billabong we’ve never seen before. It’s almost daylight now and I’ve got to get a good day’s sleep before the trip; so good night to you Winifred.”
And Willy soon fell asleep to dream of his next adventure.
© Ian Higgins, 2009
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