The Crossroad Inn

I have often been asked about my wicked sense of humor and fun and where it came from. Many of you will know about my Dear old Dad and the rolling pin so you can guess where much of it comes from but it is more than that.




Australian's often are labeled "laidback" and "casual" with the ability to laugh at ourselves as a nation as well as finding the fun things and the humorous side of events. We are indeed in general very casual and laidback, especially when it comes to our own selves. Maybe it is a part of our proud convict heritage. Every Australian proudly claims at least one first Fleet convict as their own anscestor. We are honest and forthright.. perhaps a non political correct species but we say what we think.

On the other hand Australian's are also courageous, loyal and strong willed. We make great friends and the word "mate" is a valued part of our vocabulary. Australian's will walk a mile for their mates when the "chips are down" and will be there for them when called. We help others and do not turn our backs on people who need help. Although sadly once again as time marches forward in the new millenium people everywhere are becoming colder and more heartless.. concerned with the chase for the dollar rather than giving a person a hand up.


Australian's have a built in "Bullshit detector" and do not suffer fools gladly. An Aussie will tell you that you are full of it without a blink of an eye. We are an straightforward little quirky species that sees beyond what is presented to us and that allows us to take away a full color pallete of events. We are a multicultural race of people.. Australia is only a few hundred years old so an Australian's anscestors can come from anywhere in the world but we are all Australian.


We treasure our leisure. We used to find enjoyment in the simple things.. beer and barbeques, a drink down the pub with our mates, footy on weekends, camping and fishing in the bush. All that is changing as hi society, technology and urban pressure starts to prevade and overtake our lives.


But we still stand on our colonial roots. We have an expression for something that is Australian and is REAl ..





I was raised in a "True Blue" environment. My Dad made sure of that by showing me so much of our beautiful land as a child and by introducing to to just about every single "Aussie Character" that ever lived in the "Real Australia". I lived the aussie dream as a kid. I was so lucky to have such a wide variety of experiences and such a deep introduction and education of this beautiful land and the unique peoples.


I remember being nine years old and camping in the middle of Australia's central desert at a place called Devils Marbles. I hadn't bothered pitching a tent as experienced had shown me that it was impossible to hammer tent pegs into rock ground, so I had laid the tent out as a ground sheet then inflated my matress and "bob's your uncle" ... I was ready for bed .. sleeping under a blanket of stars in the outback..That night I will never forget and I still see the sky that night clearly in my mind.


I have related earlier the story of assisting the guests to try and pitch their tents by showing them the softest ground possible but being "noobs" as they were, they kept trying to hammer into solid rock. There was another side of this event that is typically Australian and True Blue. Later that night the team leader and my dad got everyone together and held a "kangaroo court" around the fire. This was a mock court trial where all the guests were put on trial for their "crimes". My mum was up first. Mum's crime was to fall asleep in the Coach with her mouth open snoring. her Kangaroo Court punishment was to have her mouth taped up with duct tape for three hours that morning while traveling.


When it got to me, my crime was talking to much all the time so I got the duct tape treatment too.. except I kept dissolving in a fit of giggles and ripping it off. Another older girl and guy on the trip had gotten real "close" to each other so they were sentenced to be tied by the arm to other partners for the day and another couple of guys who hated each other were sentenced to be tied together and to sleep in the same tent. Then it came the turn of the little group of guests who kept pitching their tents in the solid rock. What a travesty in Australia. What a crime.. Aussies who just can't "camp out" proper like. Their punishment was to have to be the first out of the coach every night for the remainder of the trip and have their tent up ready for inspection within five minutes with everyone watching and cheering them on. Considering they had never pitched a tent within an hours time this was quite some challenge for the group and a hell of a lot of laughs for all of us....It was all a riot of laughs


Thats just Aussie humour.. and laughing at ourselves.... True Blue


Australian Comedians Writers Poets and artists of all kinds have influenced our way of thinking immensly over time just as society at the time has been reflected in these peoples work. I grew up around campfires and in "aussie pubs" listening to these people perform and laughing my ass off the entire time. These people made us as a nation, laugh at ourselves, at our oddities and quirks and at the things that differentiated us from the rest of the world.


Legends like Kevin Bloody Wilson and Rodney Rude paved the way for a unique style of comedy that is totally Australian. Every Aussie over the age of 30 can recite and sing these and other Aussie legend's songs when drunk and disorderly. It is part of our culture and the popularity of these guys helped a nation have the ability to laugh at themselves.


Entertainers like Steve Irwin and Crocodile Dundee would not have made sense to the world and especially to Aussies, if these pioneers hadn't blazed a trail of "Aussism" across the world before them.


These Comedians and entertainers had totally politically incorrect material but all True Blue Aussie. So what do we do today with this work of the years that have passed that is so politically incorrect?


Do we as Australians toss out and ignore an important part of our heritage because it is so politically incorrect? Do we now "act" embarrassed about our prime comedians and entertainers like Kevin Bloody Wilson and Rodney Rude and pretend they never existed? Do we now whisper their names in shame or scratch their names off our famous people lists?

Do we stop laughing now because we are told we are not supposed to think that it is funny anymore? Were we as a nation wrong to think it was funny in the first place?


I freely admit it.. These guys inspired me...

==============
References

True Blue - Aussie Slang Dictionary Online - Learn some Aussisms
You Tube John Williamson Home Among The Gumtrees
Kevin Bloody Wilson's Website
You Tube Kevin Bloody Wilson
Wikipedia Kevin BLoody Wilson
You Tube - Another Kev Classic
Rodney Rude Website


Rodney Rude (born Rodney Keft in Bathurst) is an Australian 'blue' stand-up comedian, poet and writer. He is infamous for his bawdy humour. He has released 12 albums and 4 videos throughout his long career, most of which are distributed by EMI Music Australia.

Today I am sitting at the farm on the edge of my bed drinking a fresh aromatic cappuchinno coffee and daydreaming. Once, a few weeks ago I would daydream about the future work I would put into the farm and the animals, today I daydream about tomorrow, whatever that will bring.

I love sitting here. I look out directly at "kameruka" the meeting tree, with the bird feeder standing proudly at the foot of it. Behind Kameruka I can see all the way down to the dam in the back paddock and I can just see the top of the water from the bed. Over the next week I am going to introduce the ducks to the dam (duck dam) and build them a little *portable* shelter down there. I can see the bright blue sky and steadily darkening pink tinged clouds through the branches of the tees. All around me is the sounds of "the bush" with bird tweetering and calling each other, mixed in with the occasional calls from the roosters. I can not see a sign of hooman development out my window. Only nature and the joys and wonders it has to share.

The yard is sprinkled with various animals all over. The chickens are pecking for juicy fat grubs in small groups around the bird feeder and water tanks and the bantams are poking their fluffy heads out from the branches of the willow tree nearby. Arnold and Elwood are sprawled out down near the pen, catching the last late afternoon sun's rays shining down from between the trees.

Apostle Birds, Parrots, doves and pigeons are scattered amongst the chickens and ducks, all  fighting over the seeds I have strewn along through the grass. Not far away, Terrance the turkey is all fluffed out, whoom'ffing every minute or so while standing guard over his wives Thelma and Louise along with his daughter Teresa as they peck around the compost heap. The goats are all down between my window and the dam, they are starting to all lie down and position themselves for the cold winter's night ahead. Snowy is looking like she willl drop her baby any minute now.


The animals all roam around the yard during the day now. There is no need to keep them penned. They choose to stay with me and they are free, freer than me .......I know. Everything is calm and peaceful as they all gather the last feed before sleep time.

Yesterday I sat down in the grass above the dam after I had moved the goats and given them fresh water in their troughs and I relaxed, possibly for the first time in years. I sat watching the goats gallovanting around with each other and feeding on the green stubbly weeds in the paddock. Dora was reaching up on her hind legs to nibble at the juicy young gum leaves off the trees and Toffee was standing on her tree stump above everyone else, surveying her domain.  There was a grunt behind me near where Glen was untangling little Glen the goats rope from the latest mess he had got himself into. I swear when they cut his balls out his brain went with them. I turned to big Glen and watched behind him as Arnold and Elwood the pigs made their way noisily towards us.


The pigs have quite fascinating unique personalities. They scare me a little after seeing them kill one of the chickens when she was injured and then tear her apart. I see the dangerous possibilities there. Maybe they have a fair bit of feral (wild) blood in them because they could turn quite ferocious I think.

Arnold, the spotted pig is the leader of the pair. She is much larger and fatter than her black sister and much more extroverted. They still don't like human contact or to be touched, even by me and they express their displeasure very loudly in grunts and squeals if you reach out to them. If the other animals get in their way at the food trays they shove them aside with their snouts and stand on the trays, hoof deep in slop food, pigging away.

The water trough is funny to watch. All the chickens line up along it drinking from it. When they have all had a good drink and the ducks have had a wash down, Arnold and Elwood come and have a bath. One at a time they climb into the trough and roll around in it having a grand old time.  The water trough is made out of a 44 gallon plastic drum which has been sliced in half so when the pigs jump in, the whole trough rolls from side to side with them. They seem to have more fun than most people at a waterpark.


They showed another side yesterday though. They trotted noisily up behind Glen towards me and Arnold came and sat down beside me. She stared at me. I stared at her. I wish I knew what was going on in her mind at that point in time... It was probably something like "where's the food bitch, I'm hungry". After all Arnold is a real pig and a constant food shredding machine.


I stayed still but still talked to Glen while me and Arnold sat there enjoying each others company. Elwood looked at Arnold and I with a look of disgust and she soon squealed loudly and went and buried herself in some soft dirt over near midnight the billy goat. Arnold just sat beside me, seemingly enjoying the tranquility as much as I did.

They say pigs are intelligent. I see that in many ways but I would more call it cunning. I have watched them walk up to a barrier I have just erected and put their bulldozer snouts underneath to lift it up. Then they just walk on through. "Pig Proof" is hard to achieve. They are great at digging gardens, if that could be controlled in the area I want it, then I wouldn't need a rotary hoe. They bury their snout in the ground and just furrow along with brute strength and force, not unlike a mining machine. Whenever I walk down the yard with the blue feed bucket now I feel like the pied piper of Hamlin. I am followed by two pigs at my heels trying to trip me up, 8 goats, 5 ducks, 4 and a half turkeys, a sprinkling of roosers, various silkies and bantams and 11 Rosemary's (the brown layer chickens are all called Rosemary because you can't differentiate between them. *sigh I really need my camera back)

*interjection.. I hate running out of coffee halfway through a cigarette while writing a blog....I'll be right back...





That is better where was I.. ah the dam and the pigs...


Arnold sat with me and enjoyed the tranquility a while longer before she decided I had no food for her so with a grunt towards her sister, she trotted slowly down into the dam. Elwood wiggled herself up and followed. Soon the two pigs were in the dam together having a fantastic time "mud bathing" They made sure they were both smothered in mud before they came back up the bank and shook themselves like dogs do. They wandered off back up towards the pen.It is quite amazing to watch the connection between the two pigs. They flow together in movements, turns and speeds and always seem to head in same direction. When they are separated they squeal to let each other know where they are.


As I sat there I realized how content inside I am. How relaxing my environment has become. How much at peace I am from a turmoiled soul.

It is all so relaxing. It is calming and peaceful. I feel at peace. No matter what "murphisms" are going on around me, I still feel calm and at peace inside. I know its the farm and the atmosphere I have built here that is responsible for my inner peace.


A tiny piercing sharp pain runs through my heart as I think about how soon it will all be taken from me. I have my garden seeds ready to plant out but no desire to do so. Will I be here to reap what i sow? Literally.....

What will tomorrow bring?

The stillness surrounding me calms my soul and allows me to carry on. I have dreams, I have goals I have plans....I have hope and aslong as hope remains....... life is good...







Footnote 1

I will answer comments on my prior blog shortly. As I am writing this my net is down once again. It went down for three hours late last night as well. I don't get to spend much time on here and so I was rather piffed that it did it when I did have the time to sit down and "surf" myspace.

Footnote 2

To update everyone about the goats. I have partially solved the mystery. After speaking to the council and raising my concenrs that this was a "nuisance call" over my "nuisance goats", it was tracked down. At first the source of the mystery couldn't be found but after a few hours and a call back it was explained... Someone drove passed my house and "apparently" saw my goats near or on the road so they rang council. Council came straight out and could find no goats anywhere near the road but saw my goats way down near the house. So the paperwork was generated because they had come out here.

We both remarked how strange the whole thing was and I had previously explained that the goats never went anywhere near the front, the front fence or out the front gate. They are scared of their own shadow, let alone traffic and noise. They have never been near there. As she said... council found NOTHING when they came out straight away so yeah.... hmmm. it was around the same day that the first house inspection happened.... co incidence or funny peculiar I don't know. But at least the council knows now that it may be a troublemaker. They admitted it didn't come from any neighbours. In fact they didn't even have a name of who did report it.. sus eh..

Footnote 3..

Frankenfish and his four wives are doing great. Of an afternoon they all gather near the top of the pond waiting for the girls to come out with their daily feed rations. Frank is still about three times the size of his wives but they are all growing and thriving in the pond. They are quite pretty to watch swimming around and nibbling at the food.

Footnote 4

I can't do much other than sit here on the bed and grimace or cry out every now and then. I pulled my back out rather badly when feeding the animals so I am enjoying the rest while I am forced to endure it.. I hate being ill or injured.. I tried lifting the feedbags this morning and now I can barely move my right leg.. argghhh .. I'll be right in a coupla days.. nothing keeps me down long..

06:54 AM - A Throwaway Life (All Comments Answered)
Category: Life

When I was a kid, mum used to make her cups of tea and coffee from an old fashioned ceramic and Bakelite Sunbeam electric jug. Our toast came out of this tiny beaten up toaster that you had to open while cooking to turn the toast over.

We had these two appliance for all of my childhood. Every now and then the element would "blow" on the jug so it was off to the appliance repair shop for a new element and a quick service. Eventually as I got older I learned how to replace the element in the jug myself. I felt it was prudent to learn as I was the one who would always put the jug on then wander off to do something before returning to find the jug boiled dry and the element springing wire out the top.


The toaster would stop working at least once a year so it was the toaster turn to be taken to the appliance shop for repairs and a new element inside that too.


It wasn't until I was a teenager that mum and dad splurged and bought a new "automatic" jug and a new "Automatic" toaster. It was magic to us. A jug that turned itself off and a toaster that popped up when BOTH sides of the toast was completed.







You all know my daughter is visiting the farm at the moment and we are having a grand old time. We have a minor issue though. Krystal took my camera out with her the other night and when it came home it no longer worked. I bought the camera for $100 dollars when we were on the move after leaving our house in Kingaroy to take photos of this new place to show my mum and dad before I moved in. So that was early May that I bought the camera. Three months ago. It was an Olympus 7.1 megapixel cam.


It is still under warranty but will take some months to repair. That is, if the warranty is honored. If they find the camera was dropped or was submerged in water then no warranty.

So Glen got out his camera. His camera was on my desk a couple of weeks before we moved while I was downloading photos. The phone rang and Glen rushed in to answer it, knocking his camera off my desk... Deader than my great great grandmother it was.

So Glen, knowing of my need for a camera, got his broken out this week and rang his insurance company where he pays extra for his camera insurance. He bought the camera just over twelve months ago for 299.00 on special. So he insured it for it's value of $350.00. His camera was a pentax 6.0  megapixel.




When he rang the insurance company he was told there is a 200 dollar excess on his claim and this is where we have the problem. He had already rang the repairer and was quoted 270.00 dollars for the repair. So in other words, if we do claim and wreck our no claim bonus we pay out 200 dollars of a 270 dollar repair.

The problem is simple. I bought my camera for 100 dollars three months ago. It is bigger and better than Glen's pentax camera by far.

So where is the sense in paying out 200 dollars and losing our no claim bonus with our insurance company or even paying the full 270.00 dollars for repair of the camera when we can replace the camera for 100 dollars?

Now I can see the sense that if my toaster breaks, it is much more economical to go and buy a new toaster for 20 dollars down at the supermarket. But for the life of me I can't see any sense in the whole camera issue. Why should we have to throw away a perfectly good camera instead of having it repaired.


How have we become such a throwaway society. A camera is a precious possession. it is something one would expect to last a quite lengthy time over years, not months.

How has it become more practical economically if I throw the camera away and buy a new one.

How much money am I putting into the Chinese central bank everytime I replace an appliance that has lasted me a period of months instead of years.

As a footnote to this.. Glen took his camera apart yesterday to see if he could fix it. He soon found the problem with a round plastic part of the lens which had a tiny tiny plastic cog broken. That tiny PLASTIC bit would cost us 270.00 to replace. *Shakes head in disgust*


What do you think? What effect does this "throwaway society" have on our incomes and lives?


So yeah there will be no hysterical pictures or vids of little Shayla riding the quad around with her big sister Krystal hanging precariously off the back end.


But it was very funny to watch.. damn I wished I had a camera....

03:24 PM - Devastated Now Open
Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes

It seems everytime I start to climb up the mountain in front of me, some asshole is there lying in wait with a foot out to trip me over.



I feel like the kid that proudly set about to build a tower of blocks, only to have the resident bully come galloping up and kick it over.



Where the neighbours "dobbed" me in to the "water police" for having an outside tap running for five minutes... well it seems the bastards around here are not just concerned with my water consumption.

This blog doesn't really need a thousad word essay of my rants and raves about everything that is wrong with our society and communities today... oh wait.. did I say


A picture tells a thousand words so instead of words I will post a copy of the letter that I recieved in the mailbox today.







Well a few things I guess... the first thing would be.. Why the heck didn't the "neighbour" come to me and ask me politely to keep my goats on my own property?

That is surreal to me.... I can't grasp why one would not have the common decency and respect to come to me direct and speak to me of their problem with my animals....


The next thing is about logistics. Ok so my goats might go jump the fence to go exploring every now and then. I live on a five acre bush property way out of town. The neighbouring property on one side has an empty house on it. I believe it is for sale and the owner lives over on the coast. The goats do jump over there and chomp their weeds occasionally until we catch them and chase them out.

It's empty... devoid of life.. just hanging around growing more weeds.....I have seen three hoomans step foot on it since we arrived here, The lawn mower man came on his ride on mower once and then the real estate came to show a man through the property on one other occasion... thats it... 3 people in two visits...hmmm

Now to the neighbour on the other side.. Once again its an empty property.. bar two horses...... the funny thing.. and I don't mean funny haha or even funny peculiar... I mean funny "ironic" is that those two horses often jump over to my property.. where i just shoo them back onto their own when I catch them... and thats only for their owners benefit cos really I couldn't care if they are on my property having a chomp........


My own goats might go over to visit the horses once a week when they slip through the fence but they are soon rounded up and bought back when one of us sees them...


So their you have it.... my nuisance goats... They go jump the fence into empty bush properties once or twice a week just to check out if the grass really is greener...






In a footnote to "The Letter"

I got a "phone Call" today from a very friendly chappy who informaed me that this place is now under contract and he is coming to "value" it for the purchasers......

It's sold.. the clock is now on countdown....

08:48 AM - The Rug is Ripped Out (all Comments Now Answered.. Yay)- Update included
Category: Life

*Update....

We have found out our rights.. we don't have to move until lease ends but having said that.. I have no desire to improve the place or plant a crop for others to enjoy. Plus I don't want to be where I am unwanted I would rather create where I am wanted.

The way I look at it is that we will have to move either way.. now or then..The Real Estate said when asked that they will help us find another place if the people want this one but then this was the only nice listing they had....



The news came that we have two more couples taking a  look through here on Thursday this week.. so now we have to put up with people coming through left right and centre.

and then finding out it is the cheapest property at present in the area did not bode well for our future either... argghhh

Glen and I decided to move if we find a nice place

I have visitors at the farm again.

My mum and dad are visiting and my baby girl finally got time off work and hitched a ride up with them.

For the readers that do not know, I have six children and my eldest daughter Krystal is all grown up now at 21. She lives 1500 kilometres away from me near my mum and dad in my old hometown of Wollongong.

Unfortunately dealing with logistics and my husbands illness has meant that I haven't seen Krystal for a year and a half.. Jan 2007 was the last time we were together.

There is 9 years between Kiralea and Krystal so for most of her childhood Krystal was an "only" child. We are very close to each other and very similar.. yes she has my wicked sense of humor

I missed her so much. We talked on the phone daily and via messaging but it wasn't the same as being together and giving her a big hug.

It was good timing for my family to come and visit just as I was devastated by another blow by my good friend Murphy. It felt better to be surrounded by those who do love me.


Yesterday the real estate showed some people through our home. The owners have decided to sell all of a sudden and it looks like these people are buying. If not them, someone else will.

These people are buying for themselves and it looks like we will have to move out. Glen says they can't make us move as we have a lease that expires next May but I am not so sure after listening to the agent and them talking....


So yes I am devastated. Yesterday I just wandered around the farm in sadness. Everything I had created and started to build will be ripped out from under me again. I looked sadly at my new vegetable garden I was digging out and then at my newly planted herb garden.

I could cry... well I did ......lots.

How can I build a future for my children when this happens. How can I build a life for them when the rug gets ripped out from under our feet.


The Real Estate agent walked in and looked around and said "wow you have this place looking stunnning.. you are really at home here aren't you"

I just grimaced and bit my lip to stop the embarassing flood of tears and looked away and then jumped on the quadbike and did a few suicidal laps of the farm.


I have made a lovely home for my family here..Of course the real estate agent was impressed... the house looked so inviting.. real cosy and friendly....a big pot of country broth was bubbling away next to the bowl of fresh eggs from the chooks......the white tiled floors shone and everything was spotless.. my Limoges display porcelain stood out and they even stopped and admired that.. I was thinking .."yeah bad luck..that doesn't come with the house"....


I had even bought new rugs for the tile floors in each room and everything just looked so right and just nice.

the animals made it even better and more comfy and the gardens and grounds were immaculate...

anyone would want to buy it plus they have it on the market as cheap as chips...



The lady was walking through saying... "oh I could put all my glassware here" and "this will be great for a sewing room" .. my head just hung lower and my soul  shrunk more and more with every word she said.

Then to ice my cake mum got real sick again. I wondered why they made a special trip up to see me when they had been here a couple of months ago. I think I now know why but I don't want to go there....

Mum has anuerysms on her brain. It bleeds in two places and the doctors can't stop the bleeds. Hence every now and them mum bleeds from the nose and eyes and always has a horrific headache.. She described it to me as feeling like the top of her head was going to blow off and explode.

A few months ago the doctor told her that her brain was getting mushy where the blood pools .. nothing can stop this happening apparently.. he gave mum medication to "numb" her brain so that dad and her could go on holidays and visit New Zealand.


Well the night before last mum had a big bleed and only spent a tiny amount of time with us yesterday at the farm before going back to their motel. (they stay at a motel so mum can rest away from noisy children)

So I am worried about my mum who really is my best friend in the whole world and the one constant through my life....she has never judged me and always accepted me for all my oddities...

And of course yesterday the real estate agent had more bad news for me.. I had a client that I was doing quite a few thousand dollars of work for. I had done most of the work and then tried to setup the appointment for payment and hand over of control/passwords to no avail... phone number was disconnected and emails were not answered....

Well the real estate agent told me yesterday that they had shut up shop and skipped town owing money....ahh yeah and at least 3000 of it was mine.....*sticks tongue in cheek... Geez ....I could have hired a moving truck for that money.....


So yeah....Just as the wheel turns and things start looking up again...

Shit Happens... again..................

I will survive.. I will pick myself up and dust myself off and rebuild.. but it just hurts sometimes...

We interrupt our scheduled programming for a Special Announcement

A few weeks ago i met a special little boy.

This boy was born disabled after something went horribly wrong during the first weeks of conception. it turns out now the little boy's mother may have been poisoned by someone "close" to her.

Zach was born profoundly disabled with a misshaped head and cleft palate that effects his speech. He has a large cavity in his chest and retarded development.


Zach is now six years old. The same age as my son Brodie. Zach is the size and weight of a one year old baby. He wears nappies as he has no bowel control. He eats processed food only as he would choke on food that he has no control over chewing on. He drinks from a bottle.



He has no speech. His world is silent except when he is in pain and then he cries a quiet mournful cry. Seeing him in pain is horrible, especially as he can't tell his mother where it is hurting. Zach's digestive system has not developed properly and he needs laxatives on a regular basis to keep everything "going smooth" otherwise he gets "clogged up' and cries his agonized little mournful cry.


Zach can't walk. I doubt he will ever walk, I don't think his disability on his bone structure will allow that freedom. He can pull himself up and rock unsteadily while hanging on to furniture. Zach loves playing with plastic colored cups. Zach loves to be touched and gently stroked especially around his neck area. He will grab your hands and smile a kinda of cheeky half smile and pull your hands towards his neck in an effort to get you to gently stroke where he likes it. When you stroke him his whole body goes rigid and he kicks his legs out in pure joy before reaching again for your hand to do it again

Zach loves looking out of windows. he will sit on a chair in front of a window playing with his colored cups for hours. Then he will fall asleep before waking up to stare quietly out of the window for a few more hours.

In the short time that Zach and his family came to stay with us on the farm, my life was enlightened and enriched by his presence.

my husband Glen is an original alpha manly man. He spends his days with computers and radios/remote control/robotics. He is a genius fixing cars and specializes in collecting vintage volvo's, mercs and jaguars and rebuilding them. He rides motorbikes in black leathers and has been known to wipe the floor with idiots surrounding him.... He is not backwards in coming forward and telling people what he really thinks.. in other words... he calls a cunt a cunt and will back his words up ... He has my back at all times even when we don't agree (which is often - I am a softie he is a hardass) and lets just say a dark look alone off him is scary.. Ok now that I have established my hubby's tough side I will make my point. lol


When Zach was here Glen had just finished his treatment course and was still weakened physically and mentally. He was not bedridden as he was during treatment but still spent most of the day resting and trying to recover from the extreme side affects from his treatment.

So Glen and Zach spent a lot of time together in my lounge-room. Zach's mum would put Zach on one chair and he would soon wiggle along to be close to Glen where Zach would grab Glen's hands and make him tickle his neck. It was magic to watch. Glen is scary to kids with his booming deep voice but to watch Zach and Glen together was magic. They formed a special bond that amazed me. To hear Glen laugh was magic to me....and Zach made me smile everyday. I miss him so much since they went back home..ok I miss you too Bella...

It is hard to describe the affect he has on you. For me, I just wanted to wrap him up in my arms and take away his pain. See the simple things make Zach smile, a touch, a colour, a noise, a breeze in the wind. he will never play Playstations or ride bikes down the street. he will never climb trees or go off exploring his environment. He will never have friends to chat with or go for a walk down to the shops to buy lollies with.

My children accepted Zach as part of the crew. They deal with disabilities everyday with my disabled daughter Kiralea. To my children, a child that is "different" is not different. To my children everyone is unique and they approach them and accept each and every person as being unique.



I am proud of my children's acceptance of disabilities. For example my son was building a lego house and he found a "half lego man" without any legs. Most children would have thrown out this "broken man" but not my son. My son made the little half man a wheelchair and then build his lego house to be "wheelchair friendly". I am proud of my children's acceptance and respect of "differentness"

I am proud my children have strong hearts and understanding within. I am proud of their moral fibre.

Zach is accepted by his home town people with smiles. Zach is accepted at his school and socially. Zach is accepted by his friends and family yet the one place Zach is not accepted was found yesterday here on myspace.

Zach's mother is a popular blogger here on myspace. Belladonna Badass. A great lady and I do not say that lightly. I truly think Belladonna rocks, a real keeper. I am only sad that I didn't meet her earlier in my life.. then again that might not be such a great idea considering our wicked senses of fun and humor.

Belladonna took offense to the way the word "retard" was used. Not the fact that the word retard was used, but the context it was used in. As Zach's mother she has the base right to be offended.

you can tell me sticks and stones can break bones but names can never hurt and I call you crap. Sticks and stones cut deep but bruises heal. Words cut deeper and do not heal over. Words cannot be taken back. The word or "logos" is the most powerful thing that humans have been gifted with. The power to speak out. The power to say this is wrong goes hand in hand with that power to use words to hurt or to hate.

I sat there and watched and listened to someone we will call "alphabet soup". Alphabet soup is a very angry little girl that seems intent on stirring up trouble, even going as far as to challenge people to "write a drama blog about her"

This is not a drama blog. This is a blog about friendship and protecting those who can't protect themselves. In this case Zach. You see Zach has no logos. he has no words to defend himself. He will never be able to defend himself.

So I will use my words and my logos to defend him.

I find people act tough behind a keyboard. Especially scared little girls with no sense of self. I forgive them for thinking they are tough and big for acting out their hatred and anger. Of all people I know that it will come back and slap them in the face like a wet smelly fish.

What I do find amazing is the amount of "projection" in Alphabet Soups words. I find that everything that was said could actually be turned around and pinned on her chest along with her cruelty to those less fortunate than herself medal. Alphabet Soup called zach's mother a whore along with other shoe'ed ladies....plus other threatening big tough words... I am not addressing all that here today.. alphabet soup has a right with free speech to say what she wants about anyone. Belladonna's a big girl.. she can choose to ignore that or deal with that her way..the shoes can trample or walk around anyone they want too..... In other words they are adults who can defend themselves...In fact In all this drama going on I haven't said much.. you are all adults and can handle yourself in this world if dog eat dog...

But when the conversation turned to "retards' and alphabet soup put forward an innuendo and accusation that Zach wasn't even disabled and it was being used for a sympathy ploy... that was it for me...She has the right to speak as I have the right to defend one who can't speak back.


So lets get this out once and for all.. I could be called a retard... an inbred one at that looking at my family line. Zach is not retarded...he is not a retard no.. He has retarded development and chromosonal abnormalities .. that does not define Zach.. Zach is Zach

 Zach is a piece of magic gifted to this world to make the sun shine.

Alphabet soup is the one disabled and retarded. Her social development and people skills are definitely retarded. Her self awareness and empathy towards others is highly retarded. her heart and love is retarded....I have to admit her skills of hatred and anger are sadly highly developed though...

Unfortunately for alphabet soup she is a very sad lost little girl inside with many issues that need dealing with. I personally think that Alphabet Soup just wasn't loved and instead has turned to anger and hatred and acting all big and tough. I feel sorry for her sad little ass because she will never see the magic and sunshine that children like Zach and My Kiralea give to the world.


I have a simple message for Alphabet Soup..I really feel sorry for you. Your anger and hatred levels will only get you into trouble through life and earn you a list of haters longer than George Bush's. Unless you love you will only see anger and hatred and it will snowball until it pervades and takes over completely until you are left a bitter lonely shell of a person. You can be all big and tough... you can think you are really cool while doing it... you may think you are scary, threatening people like you have been doing ....but you're not....you are a sad little lost girl who has much to learn about life and people.. college might be a good thing for you... you may learn something.. growing a heart would be a great start.

Oh yeah.. this is MYspace.. Sorry to say but Alphabets soups brand of hatred and vitriol are not accepted here.. I have a big red delete button to.. this ones for Zach..

You will never be as good or a special as Zach and all other magical children like him are...you can throw out that favorite "retard" word you are so fond of as often as you want... all I can say is *cringe* do you have any idea how moronic, nasty and full of hate and anger you truly appear to be?


I guess this is disclaimer time.... I am directing this at one person and one person only.. Alphabet Soup.... Why do i call this juvenile alphabet Soup? because her Damned name is too stupid and long to say-------- anyway.. you got the blog written about you... but you remane nameless to me.. and will remain Alphabet Soup on this blog...



I love this world.. Its my world.. and I love Zach..

I decided to split this into two blogs. because well it just should be. They are separate but together as such.

The explanation of this poem is in part 2 of Suicide Moth

Suicide moth
with the brains of a doth
you are banging away at the screen
It is night time outside
and it's a full lunar tide
Whether you'll live remains to be seen

the rain's pouring down
on your face like a clown
makes you look like an eerie dark green
I peer at your face
right out there in space
and wonder why nature is harsh and so mean

you're banging away
with wings beating in fray
to the light you seem to be keen
why don't you give up
There is glass is in the cup
the knowledge of which surely you glean

but seemingly not
you don't seem to stop
that banging away at the screen
I bid you goodnight
and close blinds out of sight
of that light from which your life is so lean

you would think you would learn
light also can burn
and charcoal can tarnish the sheen

 

 

08:42 AM - Suicide Moth Part 2
Category: Writing and Poetry

 

It rained today for the first day since we moved to the farm. Tonight I was sitting on my bed looking out the window when a Bogong moth similar to the one  above that I snapped on the front door a minute ago, decided to keep me fascinated by the way he kept trying to get through the glass window into the bedroom to the light.

It was so funny, Kahleah was sitting on the bed with me and I said to her "look at the fairy on the window".

She walked up with a puzzled expression on her face (up to now she hasn't actually "seen" the fairies we play with) and she peered at the window close up. She took a step back, looked at me, looked back at the moth and did a double take, peering closer again.

She then turned to me with a look of consternation on her face and said "its a yucky looking one isn't it mummy".

I laughed and laughed. I then explained it was a big moth. The wing span from tip to tip was about ten centimetres and the body length was about 6 cm long.

She asked me if I could open the window to get a better look as he was hanging on the insect screen. When I opened the window she again peered at it up close, examining it with fascination.

Glen leaned forward and said, look you can scratch it on it's tummy and he gave it's tummy a bit of a rub through the screen. She then reached up and touched it through the screen and gently patted it's tummy with a look of complete awe on her face.

When I closed the window we sat there and watched the moth for ages, just continually beat itself against the window in it's futile effort to get to the light.

One again nature and my little girl inspired me to write this poem. Hope you enjoy.

The Bogong Moth
The moths are huge and apparently edible. You notice I say apparently. I don't see them on my menu in the near or distant future. I live in south East Queensland which is their breeding ground.

Bogongs Migrations

 

Postscript.
As I am posting this Glen spoke up from behind me at the dining table where he was watching me post the blog. We were having a coffee before bed and he said "Here you are the cats got one now"

Sure enough I turned around and the cat had presented one to Glen at his feet. I grabbed the camera as Glen grabbed the cat and it flew into the kitchen. The cat got away from Glen and sat there eyeing the moth. Glen took the cat to the sleepout while I rescued the moth and put him outside.

 

When Glen walked back in he said "All that effort and there's a bird outside that is probably thanking us for dinner about now.

Well at least he didn't end up the cat's dinner.. tonight anyway....

 

 

But what amazes me the most. Is that this is him now in the pic below. Up again trying to get in my kitchen window.

 

Don't mind my minstrels on my windowsill. Its my band that keeps me company as I cook.

 

Icarus

To my Mum and Dad who recently started reading under the user Blogs Dad.
Mum, you won't like this one but Dad may enjoy it lol.. after all I did get this wicked sense of humour from traveling with him so much as a kid.

To my readers.. yeah Im wicked at times....... but meh...it's me.

I wrote this one the other day for Jersey Girl and Munch. Yes Munch you handsome devil, you inspired this little ditty.

So this is in tribute to Jersey Girl's blackberry contest.

Thanks to which most of myspace has a new slang term to add to their vocab.

Thanks to the judges, the contestants and thanks mostly to those friends and readers that voted my entry. It was a fun time to be had by all.

Munches was the best by far and hence why his little ditty inspired this little dirty ditty.



She is hot she is ready
and she is willing to go
then she tells you something
that you didn't want to know

you lean back then to listen
with your fingers deep inside
between that luxury softeness
your hand just gently glides

She stops what she is doing
and looks up into your eye
she starts to speak the dreaded words
that are going to make you cry

your body is working overdrive
dicks as hard and stiff as rock
hurry and finish telling this
all I want to do is have a FOK

She smiles that sweet coy smile now
and wraps her hands around your gun
it twitches up towards her
as the juices start to run

hunny you know I want you
and your tongue between my thighs
I want you doing dirty deeds
but I canna tell a lie

tis the time for me of blackberries
the juicy gift from all the gods
that come raining down from heaven
and make for berry messy clods

So unless you want your face red
or to look like freddies revenge
I wouldn't dine down there tonight
in that slick gooey blackberry menge

you take your hand from within her
dang you had four fingers in
you place your hand upon her back
and let out a little grin

as you rub her shoulders lovingly
and massage up her curvy back
you lay her gently on the bed
your dicks now on the slack

you cup her face into your hands
and gaze deep into her eyes
there will always be another day
but for now I have to fly

it takes a minute to reclothe
and leave her snoring on the bed
she is smiling that secret smile again
as dreams of teasing are in her head

you close the door to the apartment
and get into the tower's lift
you wonder what her husband will think
as he arrives to your fingerprinted gift

01:38 PM - I Made Him Join The Priesthood
Category: Writing and Poetry

 

In my second year of high school I had a maths teacher, who was the endless source of amusement for me. I was a terror back then with a strong sense of social justice which made for some rebellious acts against the "system" even then.

 
To describe Mr. Gaunt to you is a tad difficult. My only description of him gets rather confused because every time I think of Mr. Gaunt, Mr. Bean pops into my head and I crack up laughing. To this day I can not differentiate between the two. I am telling you now, Rowan Atkinson modeled Mr. Bean from My Mr. Gaunt.

 

 

I had always been put in the top class but I hated it. My friends were in the lower graded classes and the other kids in my class were stuck up snobs. So I made it my mission to be put in the lower classes with my friends. Hence not long after the start of my mission I was moved down into Mr. Gaunts lower math class with all the cool people and all my friends.

 
There was only one problem with that.

Mr. Gaunt was stuck teaching the lower classes because he was well, Mr. Beanlike dumb.

 

 

He wore long socks, long shorts with a short sleeved shirt and tie and I really think his face was more Mr. Beanlike than Mr. Bean. He was a confirmed bachelor who lived in a tiny flat and the thought of him with a woman was the source of many laughter outburst by my friends and myself in class. Mind you he didn't rate as high on the idiot scale as  Mr. Freame, the Latin master but Mr. Freame and my detention stories are still to come.

 

Mr. Gaunt had no control over the class. He would turn to us and ask us if we thought we should have a math's test the next week. Well hey, back then everything had been sorted into lots of life already. He was asking every potential deviant over the years to come in our home if we WANTED a math test? Somehow we managed to persuade him every week that we were not quite ready.

 

Mr. Gaunt had many peculiarities other than having his shorts hitched up to his ribcage and a way of walking that at best could be described as Emu Like. He had a weird habit of waiting until we were all seated quietly in the class before making his entrance and he would EMU into the room and up to his desk, pulling his chair out and turning it to face the class. Then he would stand behind it and swing a leg over it, placing his foot on the seating part and begin rocking it back and forward leaning on his knee as he talked. He would proceed to waffle on for forty minutes about nothing. Or preach sermons on the greatness of math. Coming from a class where we actually did math, this was all new to me but got boring real quick. It seemed to drone on worse than the minister on Sundays, day after day, week after week.

 

One day it got too much for the imp in me. I waited until everyone was in class and watched Mr. Gaunt EMU his way up the corridor and then I made my entrance. I EMUED, myself along the corridor past the tiny glass windows and into the classroom and the rest of the class burst out laughing at me as soon as they saw me. They were used to my imitations and I had my Mr. Gaunt act down pat by this stage. Before I even got to my desk he called to me so I got to my seat and pulled it out as I threw my bag down and swung my leg over the back of it in an exact imitation of his own daily morning ritualistic actions.

 

"Yes Mr. Gaunt, present and accounted for Sir." I said with a cheeky grin on my face as the rest of the class sat in silent anticipation of what was to come.

 

"You are late young lady" He said pointing his finger at me and puffing his chest out.

 

I pointed my finger right back. "So I am sir" I took at deep breath and stood there grinning with my own puny chest puffed out too.

 

He started rocking his chair back and forth as he did when he got nervous.

"If everyone was late we wouldn't have a class" He said, his hand still pointing at me.

 My hand still pointed at him and my own chair started rocking in time with his. "It's not like I missed anything important sir".

 At that point he dropped his arm across his knee and kept rocking, just staring at me. I had shocked him. He was speechless. His mouth opened and closed like a fish.

 

 

I stood there silent too, my own hand now dropped into position to match his and I watched him as I rocked in time to him.

 "That is beside the point." he exploded. "You are supposed to be here present in the class to get an education"

 One of the other kids spoke up at that point. He was one of the sporty kids that I didn't have much to do with.

 
"Well Mr. Gaunt, it is the point really. You never teach us anything. You just stand there preaching all lesson".

A voice from the back of the class piped up with "and swings on his chair all day doing it". That set everyone off. The whole class started laughing out loud, letting go of all the tension build up from the confrontation.

 

Mr. Gaunt started shaking as his face turned bright purple. I was still rocking in time with his motions and he turned to me, pointed and said

"YOU!!! outside in the corridor now, everyone else silence" He stepped off his char and went and stood uncomfortably behind his desk.

 
I pointed back again and stepped off my chair in time with him. "Yes sir, at your command". The hum started around me as I stepped into the aisle and EMUED my way to the front of the class. It got louder as all the class took it up and I stepped out into the corridor where the door was ajar and I could see in.

 

The moment I stepped out the hum stopped. It was our thing, our little call of unity when one of us got into trouble to let them know it was ok and everyone was behind them.

 

I stood against the wall for a minute cursing myself for not grabbing my bag with my cigarettes in it. As I debated walking back in and grabbing my bag I pulled out a lump from my pocket. It was my little round grey plastecine ball (like play dough) . I always had it in my pocket to keep my self busy while Mr. Gaunt droned on day after day. I stated modeling shapes and then sticking them on the door where the rest of the kids could see them but Mr. Gaunt couldn't. Each new creation bought a fit of stifled giggles as they tried to keep straight faces and pretend they were absorbed in his speech.

 

By now he was lecturing again on how if we all learned our math we could become rocket scientists and accountants. I, being me, of course began to model the obvious shape. A penis and balls. I carefully arranged them into a shape that looked a bit like a face and then revealed to the class what I had created on the door.

 

They erupted into a fit of laughter again. All of them were in hysterics, not so much by the "penis and balls" concept, but at the positioning because they could see what was going to happen next…. And it did……. Classically…..

 

By this time I was innocently standing on the other side of the corridor minding my own business. When the class erupted into giggles, Mr. Gaunt EMUED his way over to the door and threw it open yelling as he did so, "What is going on out here".

 

The class lost it at this point and absolutely squealed with laughter because what Mr. Gaunt didn't realize was, that as he opened the door my new molded shape was dangling right in front of his mouth.

 

Suddenly he looked down and saw it in horror. He froze and then screamed himself and went running off down the corridor which made everyone crack up even more. Just then the bell rang for end of class. Everyone was still laughing as they made their way out. We didn't see Mr. Gaunt around the school for a week or so after that and things were never the same but that was a good thing.

 

We got a new maths teacher who actually taught Math. A few weeks later, Mr. Gaunt left teaching and joined the priesthood. No I am not joking he seriously did join the priethood and that made perfect sense to me because he didn't cut it as a teacher…. And as for me.. I am always in trouble… just the depth varies