From Bushfires to Bare-Chested Heroes
I still remember the late-night phone call .... just after midnight on the 9th of September 2019 ... Mum’s voice steady but serious: “We’ve been told to leave.” Her home was in the fire’s path, and neighbours were packing up to flee. But true to her generation – raised on wartime rationing, polio epidemics, and good old-fashioned resilience – Redhead refused to abandon her home, her pets, or her memories.
Her back up plan? If all else failed, she could pack up the pets and prized possessions and head to the beach. Redhead always has a backup plan.
While helicopters thundered overhead and one neighbour kept vigil outside her home through the night, Mum stayed outside hosing her garden, protecting the home she and Dad built together. She told me later, with calm understatement, “We were lucky – two hundred brave men fought that fire and saved our homes and our lives.”
That night, our admiration for Australia’s firefighters became something personal, something sacred. So when the next year’s Firefighters Calendar came out, we bought one each. It was our small way of saying thank you – not just for their courage, but for what they represent: service, strength, and the kind of quiet decency we need more of in the world.
But, as with most family traditions, there was soon drama.
The Great Calendar Kerfuffle
A few years after that first calendar, Redhead had a visit from a relative – a rather self-satisfied young woman – with her two daughters, aged about ten and twelve. Bright girls, full of mischief and modern attitude, but perhaps a little short on respect.
They spotted the calendar on the wall – one of the “Cats and Firefighters” editions – and dissolved into giggles.
“Oh my gosh, you’re a dirty old woman!” they squealed, pointing at a smiling firefighter holding a kitten.
Their mother, a proud “woke” type, merely smiled indulgently. She thought it was OK. I didn’t.
Later, I rang and told her the girls owed Redhead an apology. Admiring a good-looking man doesn’t make anyone dirty – it just means they’re still human. The girls never did return, and the whole affair went down in family legend as The Day of the Great Calendar Kerfuffle.
Fast-forward to this year. The new range has just come out: Dogs, Cats, Mixed Animals, and the one that inspired today's piece: – Handsome Heroes.
“Well,” I said to Mum, “bugger it. I’m going straight for the handsome heroes this year!”
Redhead burst out laughing. “Oh, I’d love to see those girls walk in if I bought one! If they thought I was naughty in my eighties, what would they think of me in my nineties?”
We both had a giggle. A chortle.
Then she said, " Mind you, those photos do remind me of your father – so handsome, young, and strong.”
That’s the thing about getting older – the eyes might dim, but the heart doesn’t forget what it once loved. Admiring youth and beauty isn’t about vanity; it’s about remembering life and vitality and the joy of simply being alive.
Anyway, we each placed our orders. Mine’s the Handsome Heroes, no question.
Mum, however, couldn’t decide. She bought two – one to give away, and one to keep.
Soon, the postie will drop them off. They will sit on the table – the Dogs and the Handsome Heroes. She will flip through both, tutting thoughtfully like a judge at the Royal Show. “They’re all good boys,” she will likely say. “Some have wet noses, some have muscles. A difficult choice.”
Then she will slip one into an envelope, ready to be gifted, and tuck the other under her arm.
“I’ll hang mine up on New Years Day,” she will say with that secret smile that always means she’s up to something.
And here’s the thing – she still hasn’t told me which one she will keep.
I suspect she’s enjoying the suspense – after all, keeping people guessing is half the fun of being ninety-three and fabulous. One thing is certain: whatever calendar Redhead chooses to keep, she reminds us that growing older doesn’t mean losing curiosity, joy, or the thrill of life’s handsome, heroic, and mischievous moments. Age may slow the body, but it cannot touch the sparkle of a Redhead who knows what she likes and isn’t afraid to show it.
So now I leave it to you:
Will Redhead choose the faithful, floppy-eared Dogs..... or the fearless, bare-chested Heroes? Some traditions come with surprises. At 93, Redhead is keeping us guessing ........
No matter what, buy a calendar and support the boys. I make no money from this link by the way.
Australian Firefighters Calendar, Raising funds for charities since 1993
From Hose to Heroes... When a 93-year-old fire survivor can’t decide between dogs or shirtless firefighters, you know life’s still burning bright.
Shaydee
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