The Scrubfowls were formed on an island in the middle of the Adelaide River, 2000. Sue at the time was going through an horrendous court case and needed much support. So Sally, Harmony and I decided to take her off to the island along with goodies such as mudcake, a bottle of champagne and lots of coffee. A friend of mine, Steve, leased the island and had offered his boat to take us fishing. Valda, who had previously been invited to meet my friends at an extended luncheon, and had been told of our 50-year friendship pact, joined the four of us. We had a ball. Sue (and Harmony who also had a court battle on her hands) found themselves with loving, supportive friends. We all went fishing, caught enough for a meal. They all liked Steve, the accommodation (including the lavatory set up on a towering structure like a throne, overlooking the river) and the setting. During an evening of much laughter (we are active supporters of the prodigious manufacture of endorphins) and discussion on matters of universal import, we realised that we had in our group, something unique. A camaraderie that was wholesome and full of the wonder of companions developing a very special friendship.
Sitting on the verandah overlooking the river, I suggested that our group should have a name, especially for use in the many emails that we seem to engender. We considered nature's children, focusing (ofcourse) on bird life and their various peculiarities and foibles. Could we be likened to birds on the wing, or perhaps one of the flightless species? I don't need describe to you the fun we had as I am sure you can imagine the gales of laughter and the antics of five mature women testing the fit of various bird names. Somehow, we kept coming back to The Scrubfowls. After all, there were certain similarities.
The Scrubfowls are megapodes (large-footed), hen-sized ground birds that have been around for millions of years. So they are survivors. They look rather drab until one spots the cheeky bright eye, the ridiculous crest and the stunning orange legs and feet. Scrubfowls are noisy, and they make a mess scratching up the ground. People who love orderly gardens are not fond of Scrubfowls as they rearrange order. And as far as I was concerned that was us. Most of us are a tad on the cuddly side and although we may not win a beauty contest, we scrub up well (excuse the pun!). We do, however, have prodigious intellects and talents for doing all sorts of things, and where there's order we start scratching! With the Australian penchant to shorten and modify names, I soon became MH (Mother Hen), Valda, KFC (Kind Friendly Chicken, as she cooks so well), Sue, SC (Sentinel Chicken, our ever watchful sentry and, sometime, guineapig, like those aves scattered around the place on which blood tests are performed every so often to see if they've contracted some nasty mosquito-borne disease!), and Harmony, obviously became HH (Harmony Hen, our intrepid photographer who can charm a smile out of any person). Then, of course last, but by no means least, there is our Legal Eagle - Sally, who seems to prefer the great outdoors to the halls of justice. So there we are, a bunch of lateral thinkers who have the potential to change the world! Denise |
