Page 123 - moondani kyema
P. 123
ndani kyema, My Story - Ray Moore 123
Church and then she had to be taken down to Springvale to be buried in the same
plot as her husband George. I accompanied the driver in the hearse from Traralgon
to Springvale. It was a very hot day, and we stopped at a garage and eating place,
now defunct, at Nar Nar Goon, where we left the hearse and Auntie Nell parked in
the sun while we found a shady spot under some trees to have our lunch. Continuing
our journey, the driver decided that we would enter the huge Springvale Cemetery
from the rear entrance as this would give us a better run to the gravesite. This was a
good idea, but he had no idea how to get into the appropriate street. When he saw
the correct street, we had gone too far and he had to do a U-turn. This proved to be
impossible with the hearse so we turned right off the main road on which we were
travelling, and once into the smaller suburban street he proceeded to try and execute
a three point turn. So here we were with Auntie Nell on board going where no hearse
had gone before! We eventually maneuvered out of trouble and arrived at the
graveside about the same time as the handful of family and friends who had not been
able to go to Traralgon.
Weddings were obviously much happier occasions. Fairly soon after I started
conducting weddings, and I had to have a license to do so, I had to decide whether I
was willing to conduct a wedding that was not in a church building. My Anglican and
Catholic friends were not permitted to do this, but I felt that the building was not
important, and God's presence was. So, until I stopped conducting weddings in
recent years, the majority of my weddings were not in church buildings.
The most unusual wedding was at a pig farm. The Mediterranean family involved
chose a long weekend, and the ceremony was planned for Saturday morning. They
had come in to Ballarat to see me for the preparatory discussions and rehearsal for
the ceremony, but the wedding was to be held out at their property. They gave me
directions somewhere out past Buninyong. I gave myself plenty of time, but got lost.
When I eventually arrived the alcohol had already been flowing for a while, but they
had placed a folding table with a table cloth covering it under a gum tree. There was
no lawn, it was just dirt and scraps of grass. Twenty metres away was the main pig
pen. Because I sensed that some of the guests were fast moving in to a state of
mind that was not particularly appropriate for a wedding, I suggested to the hosts that
we should start the ceremony straight away. It went very well and I was invited to
stay for a drink. I stayed for a short time and as I was about to go, they insisted that I
bring Bev back with me the next morning as the party would still be going.
The next morning we duly arrived there about 11 am and people were just beginning
to stir from where they had bedded down for the night. We soon discovered that they
had an endless supply of alcohol which kept being brought up from some area under
the house where it always seemed to be appropriately chilled. We also found that the
hosts were very hospitable and insistent that we should join them for drinks and stay
and have lunch with them. Neither of us was into heavy drinking, and I coped by
drinking very slowly. Bev coped by surreptitiously watering the shrubs. We enjoyed
the lunch - plenty of pork - and before we left, we were presented with their payment
for the wedding - a leg of pork. They partied on through the holiday on Monday.
I also took a wedding at the top of the Lal Lal Falls near Ballarat in a small reserve
situated close to the falls. Then there was the wedding held on a ferry on Lake
Wendouree (See pictures). The Botanical Gardens at Ballarat were the scene of
many weddings as they provided a beautiful backdrop for such an occasion. There
was even a spot we chose a couple of times where two trees which had been planted
Church and then she had to be taken down to Springvale to be buried in the same
plot as her husband George. I accompanied the driver in the hearse from Traralgon
to Springvale. It was a very hot day, and we stopped at a garage and eating place,
now defunct, at Nar Nar Goon, where we left the hearse and Auntie Nell parked in
the sun while we found a shady spot under some trees to have our lunch. Continuing
our journey, the driver decided that we would enter the huge Springvale Cemetery
from the rear entrance as this would give us a better run to the gravesite. This was a
good idea, but he had no idea how to get into the appropriate street. When he saw
the correct street, we had gone too far and he had to do a U-turn. This proved to be
impossible with the hearse so we turned right off the main road on which we were
travelling, and once into the smaller suburban street he proceeded to try and execute
a three point turn. So here we were with Auntie Nell on board going where no hearse
had gone before! We eventually maneuvered out of trouble and arrived at the
graveside about the same time as the handful of family and friends who had not been
able to go to Traralgon.
Weddings were obviously much happier occasions. Fairly soon after I started
conducting weddings, and I had to have a license to do so, I had to decide whether I
was willing to conduct a wedding that was not in a church building. My Anglican and
Catholic friends were not permitted to do this, but I felt that the building was not
important, and God's presence was. So, until I stopped conducting weddings in
recent years, the majority of my weddings were not in church buildings.
The most unusual wedding was at a pig farm. The Mediterranean family involved
chose a long weekend, and the ceremony was planned for Saturday morning. They
had come in to Ballarat to see me for the preparatory discussions and rehearsal for
the ceremony, but the wedding was to be held out at their property. They gave me
directions somewhere out past Buninyong. I gave myself plenty of time, but got lost.
When I eventually arrived the alcohol had already been flowing for a while, but they
had placed a folding table with a table cloth covering it under a gum tree. There was
no lawn, it was just dirt and scraps of grass. Twenty metres away was the main pig
pen. Because I sensed that some of the guests were fast moving in to a state of
mind that was not particularly appropriate for a wedding, I suggested to the hosts that
we should start the ceremony straight away. It went very well and I was invited to
stay for a drink. I stayed for a short time and as I was about to go, they insisted that I
bring Bev back with me the next morning as the party would still be going.
The next morning we duly arrived there about 11 am and people were just beginning
to stir from where they had bedded down for the night. We soon discovered that they
had an endless supply of alcohol which kept being brought up from some area under
the house where it always seemed to be appropriately chilled. We also found that the
hosts were very hospitable and insistent that we should join them for drinks and stay
and have lunch with them. Neither of us was into heavy drinking, and I coped by
drinking very slowly. Bev coped by surreptitiously watering the shrubs. We enjoyed
the lunch - plenty of pork - and before we left, we were presented with their payment
for the wedding - a leg of pork. They partied on through the holiday on Monday.
I also took a wedding at the top of the Lal Lal Falls near Ballarat in a small reserve
situated close to the falls. Then there was the wedding held on a ferry on Lake
Wendouree (See pictures). The Botanical Gardens at Ballarat were the scene of
many weddings as they provided a beautiful backdrop for such an occasion. There
was even a spot we chose a couple of times where two trees which had been planted
