The "Table of Knowledge" was an important aspect of my life for the last 30-odd years.
The table - at my old Seahampton property in Lake Macquarie - was a place where my mates and I would sit down at the end of the working day with a brew, and discuss the various subjects that a group of like-minded friends would find interesting.
We likened these occasions to a boardroom meeting of shareholders in some important company. The table, in physical form, was located at a bush property, which is unique, in that it sits across the road from a now well-developed residential street, in a semi-rural suburb, which lies under the shadow of Mt Sugarloaf.
I lived across the road from this bush paddock for a few years, after I moved with my family from Murrurundi to Newcastle about 35 years ago, and I have leased the land from various entities ever since.
While I haven't lived there for many years, I kept the paddock for my horses and I would still be there twice per day to feed them, and do the necessary chores. The table, as such, has taken many forms over the years.
It started out as just a few neighbours from across the road, hanging out while I fed and rugged my horses and put them to bed for the day, and the guys hanging over the fence watching me work, and just yarning.
I am not sure where the first physical table and chairs came from, but I do remember someone bringing an old outdoor setting from over the road and, from then on, the Table of Knowledge came into being. There has been an actual table there for about 25 years now, leading up to the current manifestation.
When my mates and I sat down at that table at the end of the day, we were certainly not short of subjects to discuss, or argue about. We talked about horses and dogs we had known, family and mutual friends. And although the then current world events could be distressing, we discussed these at length and proposed solutions that may be considered by some to be fantastical, but to us they seemed a simple remedy, or they became a point of argument.
However, I must say that a "fly on the wall" observer would probably liken our discussions to a script for a Monty Python show.
Due to the normal way of things, the table has become a meeting place of the past for me. A few of the regular attendees have moved away, and life in general has interfered to an extent that I have had to relinquish the lease on the land after all these years.
I will miss the comradeship of the good friends that I have had for over 30 years, but I am sure that I will see them now and then. I will also miss the memories that old bush paddock evoked in me every time I walked through the gate.
Red The Horse
I kept many horses there over the years, until about four years ago when the last of them, a quarter-horse gelding that I owned for 25 years, passed away at the age of 32. His name was Glenvale Red Doc, but I just called him Red. He was trained as a cutting horse and was a very successful competitor when he was younger. He was an old pensioner when he died, and I had not ridden him for a number of years because of his, and my own, health issues.
He was a good companion, with plenty of character, and the only horse among the many I had owned that I formed a strong bond with. He was a favourite with the local children too. They would come and stand on the gate and ask in excited voices "Can we please pat Red?"
I would bring him over to the gate so that they could reach him, and they would pat and stroke him with big grins on their faces. I could make Red "talk" by scratching behind his elbow, and he would stretch his neck and his lips would curl up and he would almost groan with pleasure.
The universal question then was "What is he saying?", and I would make up some fanciful story that would make the kids laugh. Of course, they would not fall for this as they got older and eventually, as the kids grew up, the visits to see Red faded away.
After Red died, I was devastated. It took quite a while before I could look into his stable and not imagine him still there munching on his hay and grain. Any horse person will know what I mean. However, the companionship of mates at the table and around a fire helped. It was an important part of my routine to get together.
Sadly, because of some health issues, I decided that I could have no more horses roaming the paddock, but I kept up the property lease until very recently. I have many fond memories of the time I spent at that property, and the many humorous experiences we had over the years, while sitting at the Table of Knowledge.
Other memories also come to mind. Like recollections of all the children that would be racing around and getting into mischief, while the dads sat around talking. Children I have known for most of their lives, and who are now adults with families of their own.
I have also known dogs of unknown number, including my own, that accompanied us at the table, and they supplied us with many humorous moments. Most of these canine companions are of course no longer with us, but are still remembered fondly.
Memories also, of the regular meetings that created a bond between my mates and me over the years. It saddens me beyond measure to think back on all the good times my mates and I had at that table, and that the "board' would meet no more.
The Table of Knowledge still sits just outside the paddock gate, but sadly, there are a lot of empty chairs around it now.
However, as I write this, I am recalling events in my mind that I will always have to remind me of all those years that have passed, and the important part the Table of Knowledge has in these memories.
