katwrites on everything eclectic

Patches Beach

2011-12-05T09:13:00.001+10:00

During Work Safe Week our team received the usual list ofstress relief remedies. Boy, do we needthem at times.

One piece of advice I don’t remember seeing before was tohave an object that reminded you of something good and peaceful nearby. I think in the past I would have dismissedthis notion. But that was before thestone.

In the first week of January my family rented a house atPatches Beach. On the beach, in themiddle of nowhere, the weather was crappy. We walked the dogs on the beach, watched lots of DVDs and my daughterand I repainted our nails everyday – testing out the nail polishes she got forChristmas.

All, in all a very quiet and relaxing holiday was had.

The beach was home to some nice flat smooth rocks. As a gift back to the house and its futureoccupants, we used nail polish to paint ‘Patches Beach’ on a rock and left itbehind. I also bought one home with me.

Then hell broke loss. Literally, the day we came home the flooding began. Then the rebuilding began. The long, long days.

Somehow, clutching my smooth painted stone brought back therelaxing quiet holiday. It was possiblythe only relaxing week we have had all year.

Flexible

2011-11-17T20:19:00.001+10:00

I can touch my toes easily. Not a second thought.

Inflexible people are frustrating. Especially when it is an inflexible way of looking at the world, or an inability to do things differently.

So, I have no oven. It died an untimely death. Actually, its pretty old so death was where it has been heading for some time. My kitchen is old. Early eighties green laminate with wood veneer chipboard that is flaking at the edges. Essentially a new oven before a new kitchen is planned is silliness. Inspired by my friend Terri, the best cook in the universe, I bought a BBQ with a hood instead. I learned from Terri at our Easter camping trip that there is nothing that can't be cooked on a BBQ. Steamed pudding, pizza, corn on the cob, baked vegetables...

I am practising flexibility on my recipes.

Not quite ready to try cooking a cake though. What to do for the Birthday Boy? Buy a cake? But lets be flexible. Here it is...the ice cream cake.

Flood Stories

2011-11-10T18:01:00.000+10:00

I have had a long hiatus from my blog.

The Summer of Disasters interfered.

I started the year in survival mode. Instructions to my interstate visitors: “Make sure your kids know how to wash their hands in a bucket so they don’t get sick. “ My life reduced to this basic hygiene.

The electricity came back and we saw our business in Rocklea under water. We couldn’t get there for days. So started the months of rebuilding.

I return to work, 12 hour shifts doing Community Recovery. To me, every application for help is a real person, not a pile of paper. I have nightmares about losing applications. I am living, breathing and sleeping disaster.

I come to crave normal. I am told not to expect normal. I am told I will find a “new” normal. I wanted the new normal. I wanted to do regular grocery shopping. I want cooking and cleaning to be a normal inconvenience, not an alien activity sometime after I have remembered to brush my teeth after I eat rather than before.

People, somewhere out there, other “unaffected” people wondered why we keep harping on, keeping telling our stories, keep talking nothing but flooding and lack of warning and please pick up our rubbish and when will our grant money come through and insurance company has become a swear word. A seemingly intelligent man said to me, they just need to get over it. I was stunned into silence. Would it be appropriate to punch him?

This is what I have learned.

During the chaos, and sometime afterwards, people need to, I mean really deeply need in the way they need water, to feel like they are helping.

A community with leadership is a healthy community. But then the rifts will happen. It is inevitable.

Never, ever, start a conversation in this town without first asking, “How did do you with the floods?” Under people’s skin is still wet with silty mud. And sometimes sewerage.

I have learned to accept hugs from strangers.

I have other’s stories tattooed into my being. I am living my story. I sometimes wonder will I ever live any other story.

I have learned that eleven months isn't long enough to stop me being angry.

But I have found a normal.

Make Money Fast (and a little gardening tip)

2010-11-08T21:44:00.000+10:00

I have a hot money making tip for you.

Get your video camera and video me gardening. I swear, if you are patient you will catch a gem for You Tube or Funniest Home Videos.

Just last week I headbutted a tree so hard I fell flat on my behind. No witnesses. It hurt. It really, really hurt. A lot.

Then, the other day, my hungry slipper got me attacked from behind. I wore my slippers outside. I know its, naughty. They are daggy old things with the sole coming away from the toe so that they have a hungry mouth.

My garden tip, by the by, is to do with trellises. Instead of having a trellis, I have rigged up some column shaped fencing wire trellises. I can move them to where ever I have planted my climbing vegies, rather than having to plant the climbers where a trellis happens to be.

Anyhow, I spied some lovely little peas, and thought, I'll eat those. I stepped into the garden with my hungry slippers and gobbled up those lovely sweet fresh peas. Then I saw, Joy o Joy, more peas. So, I stepped over said trellis. My hungry slipper gripped the wire, and well you should have been there with your video camera. I was hopping around on one foot trying to untangle myself, not squash any plants and not scratch the skin off my calves. Failed on all counts, and tore up the peas that were growing on the trellis.

I can't say when I might do something stupid again, but it might be worth staking the joint.

Listen hard to my advice

2010-08-11T21:20:00.000+10:00

I listen to audio books when I drive to work. I have some advice before you take on this addiction.

You must have an ability to compose yourself quickly. For instance, just as we entered the school gates one morning, The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas ended in the tragic way the Boy in the Striped Pyjamas ends (no spoilers here). Witness me and two teenage girls with tears streaming down our faces. (Teenage boy commenting it would be funny if they all got up and were zombies. Let’s not go there.)

Arriving at work red eyed can cause concern and worry for your workmates. Compose yourself.

You must have patience. When you arrive in the work car park, you have arrived. It does not matter if Henry, clutching his knife wounds, is reaching for the door, the taxidermist hot on his heels. You will have to switch off the engine and switch off the iPod. People do not trust car park loiters.

You will spend the whole day wondering, but you will have to wait patiently till clock off.

Keep your eyes on the road. You are not inhaling the scent of chocolate in a French village. You are not a boy vampire sucking the blood from your friend’s knee. You are not running from a herd of strange genetically modified creatures.

You are, and never forget this, driving a car.

http://www.audible.com/whatis

Listen hard to my advice

2010-08-11T21:16:00.000+10:00

10:10

2010-07-20T21:35:00.002+10:00

The end is here and I can think past decimals.

10 words: Day 9

2010-07-19T18:26:00.000+10:00

A work in progress is better than any strategic plan.

Day 8, Ten Words

2010-07-15T22:17:00.002+10:00

Don't forget, I understand and know all you mental incapacities.

Day 7: Ten words

2010-07-14T22:54:00.002+10:00

It is a truth, noone really takes a blonde seriously.

Day 6: 10 words

2010-07-13T21:23:00.000+10:00

A girl, I think she is crying whenever she laughs.

Day 5, Ten Words

2010-07-12T19:59:00.000+10:00

I value meeting committments, but scarpered for the weekend anyway!

Day Four: 10 words

2010-07-08T19:27:00.000+10:00

Icing sugar and vinegar from when the circus left town.

Day Three: 10 words

2010-07-07T18:02:00.002+10:00

I failed to express exactly how tired feels. Too tired.

Day Two: 10 words

2010-07-06T19:53:00.000+10:00

Laughing and crying simultaneously, you could hear her on Pluto.

Day One

2010-07-05T22:02:00.000+10:00

Unnerved: When sleep is elusive, raw nerves are easily agitated.

Sunday

2010-07-04T22:56:00.000+10:00

The Return of Lucretia:

knuckles, tense, determined

sharp

Gritted Teeth

frown pressed deep her

broken self.

marble eyes,

forlorn.

Friday Walk: A dreary day

2010-07-02T12:35:00.000+10:00

Thursday walk: My secret lookout

2010-07-01T13:39:00.000+10:00

The path begins wide...

but the entrance is neglected,

the way steepens,

and then

the rewards are wonderful.

Tuesday walk: Red Tailed Black Cockatoos

2010-06-29T09:18:00.000+10:00

Sweethearts sat still and let me take photos. They were eating the cones off the she-oak. Sounded like pop corn going off in a pot.

Monday Walk: Light and Shadows

2010-06-28T17:40:00.000+10:00

Sunday Sunset Walk

2010-06-28T10:06:00.000+10:00

The Weekend ends...

2010-06-27T18:11:00.000+10:00

From the dark comes the light.

Weekend

2010-06-22T19:31:00.001+10:00

The best thing about my weekend: I didn't leave Wivenhoe Pocket. After a 12 hour day on Friday doing the school run, working, then going to Tama's football game, I felt like a rubber band was wound around my head and shoulders.

Saturday/Sunday I got to do an exercise class, write, garden, make chutney, have a bonfire and bbq at friends and not leave the confines of my little, round country street.

Simple.

Priorities

2010-06-02T18:23:00.000+10:00

I choose positive people over negative people.

Rage

2010-05-25T20:25:00.002+10:00

I read a Cathy Kelly book once. My sister flys a lot and tends to pick some easy reads. She left a pile of books at my place. I am game for just about anything. I have read, and enjoyed, almost every genre, so why not this new phenomena of chick lit.

I was drawn to the main character, unhappy working full time. She wants to be at home with her young family. Me! Me! My unhappiness too.

Turned out her husband earned plenty of money and she had a marketable skill that could make her money from home. All she needed to do was decide to do it.

It was so easy for her to change her life I wanted to set fire to the book there and then.

Oh course, I finished it. I’m like that. Finish what I start, never late, be prepared.

At some point in the last chapter the main character’s name changed. Let’s say her name was Katherine, by the last chapter she was suddenly Kathleen. Was the character's journey so meaningless her name became meaningless to?

Where is that book? I wonder do I still have it somewhere. It might be cathartic to rip it apart today.

India, the fluffy white dog...

2010-05-18T18:10:00.002+10:00

I have been telling my dog that some days are just harder than others.

Most days are tiring, a little mundane with some highlights.

Some days are just a bit harder than others.

But without those days we wouldn’t appreciate the good days.

I think she understands.

I surprise myself

2010-05-03T19:23:00.001+10:00

I sprinted the other day.

Usually when my personal trainer says – SPRINT – I think, oh yeah right and jog.
But this day I actually sprinted.
It was surprising. Mind you, I wasn’t fast. I have come last in every race I have ever run. In fact, the last race I ran, the last time I sprinted was in 1984.
Yes, surprising.

Last Year's Lunch

2010-04-24T17:11:00.001+10:00

I have procrastinated for over a year and then, the school tie saga. It takes Tama and me an hour to find his school tie in his room. Something must be done.

Step 1: Take antihistamine

It’s not like he doesn’t clean his room. He is made to clean it every Saturday morning. It is his method of sweeping contents to the edges, on top of things under things and at the bottom of his cupboard.

This is what I found:
1. Dismantled car radio and calculator
2. A letter to himself that he is not allowed to open until he is 17 (do I wish it wasn’t sealed!)
3. 2 unused light globes still in their boxes.
4. A rubber with a paper tail stapled to it and other with a cape.
5. A list of “Things to Do” I am 100% sure is not his.

The highlight of what I found is really rather sweet. It seems my boy is so attached to the lunches I make him he decided to keep the remnants of the last one I made him for primary school.

That was four hot summer months ago.

Hellstra Again

2010-04-08T16:27:00.002+10:00

Telstra hands out there pre-paid credit at 3am in the morning.

How do I know this?

Because at 3am in the morning I was woken by the Midnight Beast singing "Wake up in the morning feeling like Winehouse"

Not the most soothing of songs, certainly not in the wee hours.

Once common sense kicked in and I realised I wasn't being attacked and my son's phone was somewhere in my room, I concentrated on steadying my racing heartbeat in the hope I would be asleep again soon.

No such luck.

There it goes again... "Wake up in the morning feeling like Winehouse"

Right, he has his phone scheduled to notify him of a text until such times as he reads it. Useful if I am trying to contact him. Less so at this moment.

I get out of bed and rummage.

Can't find it.

It goes off again.

Problem is, the lyric is just long enough for me to get a general direction, but not to locate.

Yes, I could ring it myself, but it s 3am in the morning. You think I am thinking straight. No I am not. I am just rummaging. And swearing. A lot of swearing.

Eventually I find where it as fallen between the cupboard and the dresser.

Lucky really, no one ever would have looked there otherwise.

Meanwhile, I woke up in the morning feeling like Winehouse.

Too much of a good thing (3)

2010-03-31T18:00:00.000+10:00

The decent coffee quest continues.

I tried, and settled for the Steam Expresso Bar, then the brew yesterday tasted like insipid water.

I had to go across the river at lunch time, so waited until I got to Gloria Jeans for my hit. I sighed with relief. Paul, still not as good as yours, but at least it rolled smoothly over my tongue.

Hellstra

2010-03-28T20:20:00.001+10:00

I have discovered what happens to you in hell.
They send you Telstra bills, then make you sit on the phone to them for eternity.
Here are the stats.
- Rang the number and it hung up on me before I got to speak to a real person: 7
- Put through to the wrong number: 4
- Finally found someone who could answer my question and they could suddenly NOT hear me: 2
- Just randomly got hung up on: 2
- Times I explained my problem: 8
- Number of times I gave my birthdate and phone number: 12
- Number of times I cried: 2
Length of phone call/s: One hour and twenty minutes.

Too much of a good thing cont.

2010-03-21T11:00:00.000+10:00

Friday and the search for a decent coffee continued. I ventured into the Qld Flour Mill in the heritage end of town. I love this part of Ipswich. I love the stained glass windows above the door of the Qld Flour Mill. I really, really wish I loved thier coffee.

Too much of a good thing

2010-03-18T18:07:00.002+10:00

My favourite barista has shut up shop and left town. It's like he doesn't care about me at all.

The question is, can the city of Ipswich offer me a decent cup of coffee.

So far:
Monday - De Lamantra - 38 beans to choose from. Mine is so bad I tip it down the sink. Tastes like dirt.

Tuesday - on my way to a meeting so I stop at MacDonalds. Coffee is like thier food. Bland.

Wednesday - De Lamantra is the closest so I give them a second chance and try another of the 38 beans. I am thinking 38 beans is 37 too many when you only have 38 customers a day. Dirt taste I am putting down to stale beans. Not worth $4.00

Thursday - Mammoth effort on the phone to Telstra for and hour and twenty minutes. It all ends in tears. Do I need a coffee! The Cactus Expresso Bar is next on my hit list. A cup the size of thimble. Not worth the walk up the hill.

The last day of the week, Friday approaches and I am still hopeful.

How Racist are You?

2010-03-15T21:31:00.005+10:00

When I was 12 years old, I went to boarding school. A girl shared my dressing room. She was Torres Strait Islander from Badu Island. One day she picked up my acne cream, read the label, and asked me about it.

My first surprised thought was, “She can read!” My very next thought was, “Of course she can read. What would make me think she couldn’t read?”

The question still remains, decades later. What causes a 12-year-old child to believe that a person, because she is brown and has tight curly hair, is less smart?

So I have to rewind to the first twelve years of my life. I belonged to a farming family, in a community of predominately German descendants. If there were Aboriginal kids at my school, they didn’t tell us about it. I remember nothing rampantly and obviously bigoted. Yet somehow, like osmosis, I absorbed unsettling stereotypes.

What was my 1970’s education telling me? It told me Captain Cook ‘discovered’ Australia, and the ‘first settlers’ struggled to tame a wilderness. It told me, almost in these exact words, the Aboriginal people did not fight back. Underneath these untruths was a subtle message. It said the Aboriginal people were not capable of fighting back, they didn’t try hard enough, they didn’t deserve to ‘keep’ this country.

What did 1970’s television tell me about Aboriginal people? Most likely it said they were absent and invisible. I don’t remember any Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander faces on The Sullivans or Young Talent Time.

The Department of Education sent some Aboriginal dancers to our school. The boy sitting next to me said, “They are not real Aboriginals – look their palms are white.” I looked at my palms, I looked at their palms, and I could see his point. But it made no sense that they would send out pretenders.

By the time I got to university, my friends and I were going to Land Rights marches. Sadly, at the end of the day we went back to our own lives. We did not really connect. But we were questioning what we had been ‘taught’ as children.

When my daughter was 6 years old, she said, “Mum, I always wanted to meet and Aboriginal person.” It is a step up from the boy who denied those dancers their aboriginality. It said to me she was curious, perhaps respectful, seemingly lacking any negativity. But it also says to me, there is still a divide in our community.

Priorities

2010-03-12T21:56:00.002+10:00

I choose weeds over weedkiller.

Shutter Island

2010-03-09T12:46:00.003+10:00

I like to go to the movie theatre well informed. It is all too expensive to turn up at any old random movie that has an interesting name. I choose to go to the movies I think I will like.

There are times though, when I get invited to a movie and attend through social politeness. This has been at times traumatising - Jerry Maguire - its been 12 years and I still remember sitting in that theatre surrounded by people laughing hysterically wondering why it just made me want to spew.

More recently Mamma Mia! proved not quite traumatising as irritating. What to say to my fellow movie goers who loved it?

I knew nothing about Shutter Island Big names do not a good movie make. Happily I was neither traumatised or irritated, although the soundtrack needed a bomb put under it. I was in fact intrigued and until the last moments unsure which way the film would go. It won't go on my list of all time favourites, but it was interesting enough for our family to discuss for most of the car trip home.

Cultural Divide

2010-02-28T15:30:00.004+10:00

When writing, I have discovered cultural nuances which I have absorbed. In particular when I sub work for critique to my group of fellow writers from all parts of the globe.

It is not just the spelling, or the actual words, such as "port" or "bitumen" that catch me out, it is the things my characters do - like walk under buildings.

Any person from Queensland would read that character has walked under the house and understand. We spend much of our lives under buildings. I did not realise this was unique until now. So to assist with global confusion, please see above a "Queenslander" - the architecture that defines our state.

Writing and Working Fulltime

2010-02-10T19:19:00.002+10:00

Let me tell you about working full time and being a writer.

When you are a writer and working full time (not as a writer), you spend a few minutes before you go to work tidying your house, not because you have an anal need to have a tidy house.

You do it because if you tidy every morning it will take less time on Saturday and you will have more time to write.

The Day After Tomorrow

2010-02-04T18:12:00.003+10:00

I didn't want to see this movie when it came out, but it crossed my path recently so I thought I would give it a go. My original instincts were correct.

There are serious credibility issues in this movie. Not that the Earth suddenly freezes over, baffle me with enough science and I will believe anything.

I do not find it credible that this stupid man walks to New York to save his son. Why? What did he think he would do when he got there? As it turned out his son had it sorted anyhow, and the father arguably killed his friend and work colleague so he could prove he wasn't the slack father his ex-wife thought he was. A rescue team would have flown to New York when it was all over anyway - he didn't need to walk there.

Bin this one.

2010-01-29T08:35:00.003+10:00

I am a guest blogger today. See my fellow writer Jennie Helderman's blog. Jennie is an accomplished writer from Atlanta. Flashquake nominated her for Pushcart Award in 2007. Wow, I can't do her justice, but hopefully you will all get to read about Ginger one day.

The Lovely Bones

2010-01-27T09:03:00.008+10:00

My favourite film by Director Peter Jackson is Heavenly Creatures (regardless of the success of The Lord of the Rings), so when I read he had bought the rights to Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones I was enthusiastic. Peter Jackson and The Lovely Bones seemed the right fit and wanted to see what he would do with this wonderful book.

The reviews for the movie have been mixed. I think there are two problems. One, people could not get The Lord of the Rings out of their heads and their expectations ran toward an epic. The other problem is the story does not follow the usual plot line for a rape/murder story. How it should go... innocent child is raped and murdered, everyone does everything to catch the perpetrator, the perpetrator is caught and justice is done.

That is not the story The Lovely Bones tells. It tells a better story.

When I read The Lovely Bones, I thought, this is a book about grief. How people cope with grief, how Suzie copes with the grief of being dead, how her family copes with her being dead.

There is a risk of seeing a movie after reading a book that has been enjoyed and happily the movie worked for me. But it took me to a different place. For me the story in the movie is about how our bodies are less important than how we live our lives and the love we leave behind.

This is not a catch a murderer story, and sadly I think the trailers may have led people to believe otherwise. If you like to delve deeper than the good guys catch the bad guys then I think this story - book and movie - are worth a look and a read.

Devotees

2010-01-26T10:57:00.004+10:00

Devotees is a surreal little story which started as a strange dream. I worked hard on it but it is not mainstream and has been hard to place. I am happy to announce Crash has published "Devotees" in their first issue.

Priorities

2010-01-14T08:35:00.002+10:00

I choose reading my book over mopping the floor.

Sleep

2010-01-12T21:17:00.001+10:00

At the end of the day, I close my bedroom door, my teeth are clean, I am clean, there is my bed, there is my book. Whatever else the day was, it is now perfect.

Avatar in 3D

2010-01-07T07:57:00.002+10:00

Avatar is both magnificent and ordinary.

It is lush, full of colour, light and wonder - truly beautiful and with 3D more fully realised than any 3D I have experienced.

It is exciting on the superficial level of explosions and killing sprees.

The story however, is rather ordinary. For the majority of audiences who want an adventure flick with their Jaffas, I am sure it is an extraordinary experience. For someone who appreciates some depth and interest in characters and a story with surprises, there may be some disappointment. Some guy goes native and falls in love and has to fight his own people...been there? The top boss solider is a cardboard cut out bad guy with no soul, no real motive and stacks of guns.

Still, I wouldn't say don't go. I expect if you don't see this movie in 3D at the movies you will have to spend the next decade explaining why you weren't there.

Priority

2010-01-06T18:36:00.001+10:00

I choose my garden over nice fingernails.

Storm Gardening

2010-01-03T20:53:00.004+10:00

Looking through the window, snow is picture perfect. I expect living with it is challenging.

Queensland's license plates used to say "The Sunshine State." It's true many are envious our our ceaseless sunshine. Living with it is not always as one would expect.

Take today, I have some big gardening jobs on my mind. I hope to get a little in first thing in the morning. I wake at 7.30am, early enough for a Sunday morning I think. It is already too hot to go outside. Certainly too hot for weeding and planting and hard work. Perhaps I will get some gardening in at dusk, if it is not too steamy.

Then, mid morning, a silver lining on the horizon. Dark clouds.

For someone closer to the poles, where perhaps it is snowing, this may be the oddest thing you hear today, but gardening in the rain is perfection.

Cold? No, I wipe the rain from my forehead and the sweat from my upper lip and somehow they even themselves out.

The soil is loose and the weeds come out like a balding man's hair.

My children come outside to tell me there is a storm warning. High winds and flash flooding. It is for nearly all of south east Queensland. Not specific enough for me.

I can hear thunder. If there is any lightening I will go inside.

Mid afternoon and I am done. My hair is red with mud and my clothes cling like glad wrap.

I step into the shower clothes and all.

Clean, on the veranda with a wine and some cheese and crackers, I can admire the luminous grass and the sparkling garden. A perfect summer's day, minus the sun.

If it wasn't for these flies.

But, that's Queensland for you. Beautiful one day, perfect the next.

New Year

2009-12-31T08:52:00.002+10:00

I don't know the meaning of Christmas. I spend more time thinking about the meaning of the New Year.

There is the whole thing about finding the perfect party, the perfect time to be had. Then there is the whole resolution thing, the diets that last a week or two.

Neither of these things speaks to me.

I am tangled in the idea of "start as you mean to continue."

If the New Year is the start, then this is the chance to give our year a flavour.

A boring New Year's Eve? Perhaps a dull year. That is not necessarily a bad thing.

2007/8 we spend at the Woodford Folk Festival. It rained buckets and buckets and there was mud up to our knees. But we kept on smiling. Everyone kept on smiling. Woodford is like that. But actually, it was a trial and many, including us, left early.

2008 - A year of challenges? You bet. I spent the whole year smiling while I trawled through the mud thinking what doesn't kill me makes me stronger.

2008/9 - We had new year at our place. It was not what we had planned, but old friends were coming to visit and it seemed logical bearing in mind the mud we had spent the year muddling through. I was in pain, I was sick and no one knew it. I didn't want people in my house. I wanted to go to bed.

2009 - a Year of not getting what I wanted. I was thwarted at every turn by other people and other things. It has been the busiest year of my entire life.

Today we are going back to Woodford. Already we are thwarted by a puppy with a red eye and an emergency trip to the vet. One last hurrah from 2009.

Anyhow, we will get there. I have my gumboots, my hat and sunscreen and water and I am prepared. I have my smile and a positive attitude. Will it be enough?

Games Suck

2009-12-30T21:54:00.002+10:00

I admit it, I was sucked in by the tv advertisement. The new Super Mario Wii.

I don't like "video games." Really have never been good at them. Not ever.

But occassionaly I get addicted, and I have a soft spot for Mario.

There is a family in the advertisement. Four people. Two adults and two kids. Wow just like us. Look how happy they look, playing together.

Sucked me right in.

So if this game is an indication of our family dynamics, I would say we are an arguementative, chaotic group of people living in this house.

I think I prefer to go to bed.

puppies for sale!

2009-12-08T06:50:00.009+10:00

My new camera!! Brisbane

2009-11-22T08:08:00.003+10:00

Puppies

2009-11-20T07:26:00.004+10:00

Perfect Contentment

Puppies

2009-11-18T21:10:00.003+10:00

The little puppies lie on thier backs, and thier little legs twitch and wiggle while they sleep.

Puppies

2009-11-15T20:25:00.003+10:00

Puppies love to be close to each other. Is it any wonder they make great companions for people too.

Puppies

2009-11-14T12:21:00.003+10:00

A jumble of puppies? A tumble of puppies? Certianly not a little of puppies.

Puppies

2009-11-12T18:15:00.004+10:00

My life is a delicate juggling act. If I take my eye off any particular ball it will fall and crash on the floor like an over exhausted mother/partner/worker/writer/gardener etc etc.

The blog ball dropped recently, partly because I have had that eye trained on the puppy ball. So to keep the two balls flying at once, a feast of puppy photos will take over this blog.

To begin, this is "the white one", the only one that looks like his Maltese dad.

Ugly Critques

2009-10-23T13:57:00.005+10:00

Living in the middle of nowhere, the best way for me to have my writing critiqued is to be part of an online critique group. I've had membership of a few and some unhelpful experiences.

As part of a speculative fiction group, someone told me my story "Soul Mates" which was eventually published in Black Magazine , could never happen because houses were inanimate objects and couldn't think or feel. Did I mention this was a SPECULATIVE fiction group. Had he not heard of - let's say Stephen King's "Christine"?

Another critiquer told me I was writing a story - therefore it had already happened - therefore I could not write it in present tense. I am still shaking my head over that one.

When I first started to seriously write, I discovered I knew nothing about commas. I did a lot of research on the Internet, thought I knew what I was doing, but thought my online critique group might point out to me where I was still getting commas wrong. I asked for specific feedback when I submitted my story - the answer from one helpful person. "Have a look on the Internet." I think that is when I left that group.

Happy, happy - I belong to a great group now, who would never be so patronising or unhelpful. I am a better writer for their honesty and experience. A fellow member, Nancy Kopp blogged about us and online critiques groups today.

Coraline Versus Up

2009-10-22T12:27:00.005+10:00

At the heart of Coraline is truth – two truths. The type of truths that keeps all good fables resonating throughout the centuries.

Truth no 1: If you neglect your children, they will look elsewhere for love, and sometimes that love will be damaging. The battle back home again will be a challenge.

Truth no 2: The grass is never greener on the other side. I loved this story when I was a kid. Was it a cow or a sheep who keep going from paddock to paddock thinking the grass he saw was greener?

We had to travel all the way to Indooroopilly to see Coraline. It seemed to just come and go from our local cinemas before we had blinked. This movie is smart, quirky, dark and looks beautiful.

Up, on the other hand looks like every other Pixar animation since Toy Story had us all raving. Every kid and his dog went to see it in the holidays. I feel asleep. Slept away at least $2.00 of the movie. It’s not that it is bad necessarily, but you can only see so much animated slapstick before your children become teenagers.

Up will make money. Then, the next slick over promoted movie will come out and it will just be another DVD in every families' cupboard.

In years to come, those who remember Coraline will be consider it as a cut above the rest.

Wivenhoe Weed Fairies taking flight.

2009-10-11T17:56:00.002+10:00

Breathe

2009-10-06T22:35:00.004+10:00

This is the gum tree in my front yard. I walk past it every day. It has possums, bees, parrots and once an old grandaddy koala.

Whenever I look at this photo it reminds me to breathe.

Cinema Etiquette

2009-10-04T18:24:00.001+10:00

As impressionable 14 year olds, our head mistress bundled us boarding school girls onto a bus for an hour long trip to visit the nearest cinema. She took us to see Ghandi.

The movie ended. We stood up. She admonished us. It was disrespectful to stand while the credits were rolling. We had never heard of such a thing. We all sat down again.

My head mistress, despite her uncanny habit of suspending me from school, was a woman I came to respect, and her respect for movie credits is something I still practice.

It seems to me, if someone makes and effort to make a movie, no matter how obscure their role (what is a best boy?) then the viewer should have the respect to pay attention for the entire length of the film, credits included.

It is not always comfortable. The usher wants us out so he can clean up, the children are over it and are embarrassed, but I feel righteous in my actions.

It is also a bit about train spotting too.

Rewards are at times surprising, most notable the alternate ending following the credits of 28 Days Later. It remains one of my most satisfying story viewing experiences – all because I stayed until the end of the credits.

Inglourious Basterds

2009-10-01T21:39:00.002+10:00

Inglourious Basterds – no mistaking this is Tarantino. Irony, wit, imaginative dialogue, and let’s face it Violence with a capital V. I am not squeamish. I watched a surgeon cut up my daughter's mouth, but I covered my eyes in several of this movie's scenes. Well, you know covered and peaked.

Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction changed the tone of movies. The define their decade. Kill Bill did not thrill me, but in Inglourious Basterds, Tarantino has returned to the story telling that I think Kill Bill lacked.

The overhead shot of Shoshanna walking from her room and down the hall to David Bowie’s Cat People (Putting Out Fire) is a masterful combination of cinematography, plot and sound.

Rewrite history, why not? Who else would have the audacity?

Up the garden path

2009-09-27T21:28:00.001+10:00

Tulips

2009-09-25T20:02:00.002+10:00

Elegant and simple. Nothing at all like me, perhaps why I love them.

More and more flowers

2009-09-24T17:39:00.003+10:00

There was a time when I aspired to be a florist!

Flower Festival Day 4

2009-09-23T17:33:00.004+10:00

Carnival photo feast continues

2009-09-22T23:52:00.003+10:00

The Carnival of Flowers is Sprung

2009-09-21T19:28:00.003+10:00

Spring Celebrations

2009-09-20T10:07:00.002+10:00

The Toowoomba Carnival of Flowers is 60 years old, Australia's longest running horticultural festival.

Night Watch

2009-09-16T19:11:00.003+10:00

The 2004 Russian film, Night Watch doesn't lay anything out on a platter - it lets you be confused and then unravels the satisfyingly complex storyline in a visual feast. The mix of interesting cinematography, sets and animations buzzes with life.

This action fantasy tells a tale of good and evil, or specifically the Others, who posses special powers and must choose light or dark. But for me, the real theme of the movie is that life is shades of grey.

We saw this movie when it came out. There were exactly three people in the theatre. I picked up the DVD pretty cheap, but it is worth every cent. It is a keeper that can be watched over again. The DVD has been dubbed so you don't have to read the subtitles and miss the gorgeousness of the visuals.

Why we love the internet.

2009-09-13T17:02:00.004+10:00

This is why I love the internet.

At 7am on Sunday morning, whilst still in my pajamas, I can:

- Buy my mother her birthday present

- Buy my favourite Gum Leaf Essential Oils.

Breastfeeding - fiendish or miraclous?

2009-09-01T21:54:00.003+10:00

There are three good things I have done for my kids: read to them, talk and listen to them, and breastfeed them.

According to the Courier Mail, a newspoll survey found up to 30% of people think breastfeeding should not be done in public.

Let’s put this in perspective. It is fine to drink and get drunk in public; people do it in pubs every night. We can see nudity and sex on television. People barely bat an eyelid at swearing.

The Valley on a Saturday is a flesh feast, bum cheeks, breasts beaming in the street lights.

And yet, the very best start I can give my baby in life – one that will protect him from illness, increase his intelligence, speech and eyesight and is free and environmentally friendly – is inappropriate for the public.

I was discreet, but I never hid while breast feeding in public. One of the saddest things I ever saw was a mother breastfeeding in the corner of a room while her husband held a cloth up in front of her. I wonder was it his problem or hers?

Breast milk and breastfeeding is a natural miracle. Any support a woman gets to continue breastfeeding is an investment in the future of her child. Criticism is tantamount to child abuse.

There, you did not know I was a ranter did you?

Another View

2009-08-31T22:17:00.002+10:00

Shadows and shine: a different angle on the Sydney Opera House.

Ok, so we went to Sydney. This is what we saw.

2009-08-26T20:38:00.009+10:00

We stayed at the Raddison on Liverpool St (nice sheets), the balcony smells like the restaurant 8 floors below, the monorail is a stones throw away. There are lives played out across the street. Each window like a TV screen of people watching their TV. We arrive late on Thursday night but the air is full of the static electricity of so many lives in one place, feet constantly moving on the footpath, and constant noise.

There are two Sydney icons to be ticked off. We climbed one of them. This 77 year of bridge with rust like wrinkles shaped this city and still does. The buttresses on either end of the bridge serve no purpose at all other than aesthetic. Each tile was hand carved, the larger ones at the base took one man a week. Hey, this was the depression right?

Icon number 2. The thing about the Sydney Opera House is there are so many ways to see her. From every angle she is something different. In every light she is something different. Just like a well rounded woman.

The Rocks are both sad and fascinating. Sad because it has been made sterile by galleries, cafes and tourists, fascinating because the real gritty history that claws from behind the walls. These bricks all look different - each convict used the them to graffiti their mark.

Of course there was more, dirty hot double decker trains, friends and stalkers, the All Blacks in a dramatic win, good food, ordinary food, ferry rides and lots and lots of walking...

Sweet Jasmine

2009-08-16T16:44:00.003+10:00

For many, August may signal the Ekka and westerly winds, but for me, August is the scent of Jasmine.

Pink Jasmine smells like heaven. Better than chocolate cake, better than Calvin Klein’s Obsession. Pick the flowers before they have opened and fill your house with sweetness.

Jasmine is tropical and sub-tropical plant and well suited to our sub-tropical Queensland. There are several varieties of Jasmine, coming from different parts of the world. They can be deciduous or evergreen shrubs or climbing plants. They produce yellow or white flowers, whose best quality is their fragrance.

Commonly seen in South East Queensland are the Pink Jasmine and the Star Jasmine.

The Pink Jasmine, also sometimes known as White Jasmine, is native to China. It is a fast growing evergreen, needing a strong trellis or fence to ramble over. It is called Pink Jasmine because of the colour of the buds that open to star shaped white flowers.

For South East Queensland, it is a low care plant. Once established it does not need excessive water, and only needs a good trim after flowering. In cold areas it will flower much longer, and it has become invasive in southern parts of Australia. It also causes allergies in some people.

Star Jasmine, on the other hand, it a woodier plant, with (I believe) less sweet flowers. Technically it is not a Jasmine, but we won’t get technical here!

This plant grows more slowly and can be shaped as topiary or against a wall. Unlike the Pink Jasmine it will cover the whole of a fence or wall, rather than just growing along the top. It can also be used as a ground cover, even in the shade (but don’t expect too many flowers). It requires more pruning to keep it shaped. Flowers will only form on new growth.

Both of these plants can be grown from cuttings. Grow, smell and enjoy.

I'm excited

2009-08-06T13:49:00.004+10:00

Hint fiction is sweeping through the world - hopefully with the staying power of Energizer batteries rather than a Rubik Cube fad.

Submission guidelines for "the" Norton publication on Robert Swartwood's blog.

Cannot Buy My Soul - Story in Song

2009-08-02T14:14:00.004+10:00

Myth or otherwise, our Australian belief system includes the idea that anybody can succeed - that we are a land of opportunity. Kev Carmody’s story may embody this belief, or it could be a story about talent always winning out.

There were many things working against Kev Carmody being a successful singer-songwriter. To begin with he is an aboriginal who grew up at a time when aboriginals in Australia were not considered citizens. He didn’t go to school until he was 10 years old. But he had family, he had country and he had stories and music.

At some point he found a book at a rubbish tip – “How to Teach Yourself to Play Guitar”. He dried it out and sometime later he is at university studying music and history.

“Cannot Buy My Soul – The Songs of Kev Carmody” is a tribute concert which should become a legend of Australian music and we were lucky enough to say we were there at the Riverstage in Brisbane.This gathering of Australian artists – Paul Kelly, Tex Perkins, Missy Higgins, Troy Cassar-Daley, Bernard Fanning, John Butler – to name only a few, paid tribute to Kev Carmody, sharing their respect and esteem for Kev Carmody with the biggest concert crowd this performance has had.

I have always loved songs that tell stories. For some people music resonates, I listen for lyrics. Kev Carmody’s music is story.

It is stories I remember, like "The Young Dancer is Dead" performed by The Last Kinection or places I know, like "Darkside" performed by Tex Perkins.

Kev Carmody also tells me new stories, of people and lives with deep roots in the Australian soil - like "Droving Woman" with Missy Higgins singing the last verse with passion.

The ultimate climax is "From Little Things Big Things Grow" the song Kev Carmody co-wrote with Paul Kelly. This is song always makes me cry.

Gold

2009-07-30T21:57:00.003+10:00

I went for a walk today
and saw
a beetle as colourful as a bird,
a trail of bright bird feathers
like a rainbow - but
no pot of gold,
except
an old Baptist church
empty
waiting
to become the newest Mcdonalds in town.

Game on

2009-07-25T11:40:00.004+10:00

The maniac in the blue Ford comes from behind me. He overtakes me and weaves between the cars from left to right lane like he has a death wish. No indicator, nor patience and no regard for anyone else.

I exit the Warrego highway at North Ipswich and stop at the stop sign behind a big old Council truck. It blasts the horn and startles me. What is his problem?

I follow the truck, both of us turning right. On the other side of the overpass is a car with the driver door open. The truck misses swiping the door off by a dog’s tail. The car door closes and the car takes off behind the truck, dust and gravel spitting out behind the tyres. Then I realise it is the maniac in the blue Ford.

The Ford is swaying back and forth on the single lane, trying to pass the truck. The guy is insane. I want to get his licence plate, but I can’t read it from this distance and my self preservation is telling me not to get closer.

At the T junction, the lights are green.

The truck stops in the left turning lane.

The car stops in the right turning lane.

They are stopped side by side at the green light.

Finally the truck lurches forward. The car burns out smoke and screeches in front the truck. They both turn left.

The light is yellow; I stop and watch the vehicles curve up the hill. The car is dancing back and forth in front of the truck. The truck is hemmed in. The truck pulls over and the car stops in front of it.

The truck driver gets out in his orange fluro workvest.

The Ford driver gets out, dressed entirely in black.

I turn my CD off and pick up my mobile phone.

They step toward each other.

The light is green and I turn left. I have lost sight of them.

I curve up the hill.

The two men are on the footpath shaking hands.

Did I see that right?

I look in my rear vision mirror. They are leaning against the front of the truck, arms crossed casually over their chests, chatting.

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

2009-07-20T17:55:00.002+10:00

If your surname is Potter, you would be brave to call your son Harry. It would be like calling your child Jesus, or Elvis if you were a Presley – or Elvis at all really. I have never met an Elvis in real life.

So what of the newest movie, Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince? It is one of the better ones, exciting and relatively coherent. I don't think it is as dark as some the past ones, but it looks lush especially the signature scene of Harry and Dumbledore on a rock in the ocean.

But by necessity, the movies are merely summaries.

When you have read the books you can fill in the gaps. I wonder if a person without the details is left confused.

In the book, Harry is obsessed with who the Half Blood Prince is, in the movie this is not strongly depicted. When the identity of the Half Blood Prince is revealed it falls flat. Ho Hum, who cares? (I won’t say who it is in case you’ve successfully managed to live under a rock)

The familiarity we have with these characters, and the extra snogging, mean some laughs in the right places. If you do not end in tears...well you have a heart of stone and are probably a deatheater.

We saw this movie at the Regent in the Brisbane mall. The life of the elegant Showcase Cinema is hanging by a thread. Read about the Save the Regent Campaign

I’ll be pulling the book out for a reread soon. Testament to a good tale is that you enjoy having it retold. Is that not how every good myth and fairy tale continues its life?

"Sun Room", Wivenhoe Pocket

2009-07-18T14:46:00.003+10:00

India quite likes the view too.

Transformers, Revenge of the Fallen

2009-07-08T08:24:00.003+10:00

Boring, boring boring...the good guys are going to win so get on with it already. Not that I have a problem with the good guys winning, I just like the journey to engage me.

The "Transformers" were probably cool but they move so fast it was hard to tell.

Of course, what I think means squat and the movie will make masses of money and they'll make another one and my kids will want to go and see it. I will stay home and watch Dr Who reruns. You see I don't mind when the good guys always win.

Miriama - 9.5/10 humour, action, excellent animation
Tama - 8/10 cool, funny, exciting
Wayne - 8/10 cliched escapism
Kathryn - 2/10 please don't make me watch it again.
http://www.transformersmovie.com/

Thunderbird Park, Mt Tamborine

2009-07-07T08:16:00.008+10:00

Thunderbird Park is unpolished. This is not a slick tourism establishment. There is no gift shop with overpriced Koalas.
We stayed in a 'lodge' just metres from a running creek. We sat by the fireplace and watched the water bubble past. There is also a pleasant shady campgrounds that allows dogs.

Thunderbird Park is a hub of outdoorsy activities. More than we could do in our short stay. It all started years ago with mining. You can pay for a mining license to look for Thundereggs. Thundereggs are a mystery. A round grey rock, which cut open, may or may not reveal hidden beauty. It is fun hacking in the dirt with a pic, but we would have appreciated more detail on what to look for. We ended up with four buckets of rubbish.

There is also laser skirmish, horse riding, abseiling, bush walking and of course mini-golf. I think this course was built by a local farmer after he finished some fencing. I came so close to beating Wayne. In 20 years I have never won a game against him that required physical coordination.

The highlight, the reason we went to Thunderbird Park, and the reason I have rope burn is Adventure Parc. This is a high ropes course, which starts off cruisy. No problems, just a bit of walking on ropes and wood blocks. By the end of the course we had all reached our physical limits. Wayne was the only one to finish, but the kids and I did almost all of it. Just for the record, I hate flying foxes. How can I enjoy hanging upside down, go fast, not knowing where I am going? Too much like real life.

All in all we recommend Thunderbird Park as long as your kids are upper primary or older, and you don't mind spending some money on the activities.

Wivenhoe Pocket, Queensland

2009-06-29T21:14:00.003+10:00

This is the perfect favourite place for winter breakfast. It is protected from the wind, and also sunny and warm. If only I had the time for leisurely breakfasts.

Goldfish have personalities too.

2009-06-21T21:52:00.003+10:00

It doesn't matter if my house is messy, as long as the fish have been fed, the dog walked, the children are willing to smile at me, and the All Blacks have won the Rugby. I think I have ticked off all those this weekend.
http://www.allblacks.com/

My home patch

2009-06-17T19:46:00.002+10:00

http://www.upstreampaddle.com/lowood.html

There is adventure in all our backyards. This is my river, the Brisbane River, which channels water to a million people, is muddy, populated by lung fish and fun.

Winter in Wivenhoe

2009-06-16T18:28:00.003+10:00

Winter in Wivenhoe Pocket is soft and sparkling. Like a cushion made out of glittering blue Velvet.

Avocados are ripe again

2009-06-11T20:54:00.006+10:00

Avocados come from South America. The name is a corruption of the Aztec word ahuacatl, which is the same name given to a piece of male anatomy with a similar shape. I’ll leave you to work that one out.

We decided to buy our house, pretty much oblivious to the actual house. But there were these four mature avocado trees laden with fruit. We have two going off this year. This is what I have learnt about growing avocados.

Homegrown avocados are superior in taste to store bought ones. The longer an avocado is left on the tree, the higher oil content it will have, and consequently the tastier it will be. No doubt commercial growers whip them off the tree as soon as they can, and the taste does not develop.

Avocados do not ripen on the tree. You can leave them on the tree until you want them.

The trickiest thing about avocados is knowing when to pick them. They only way to know if they are ripe is to pick a couple and wait and see what happens. Putting them with bananas or kiwifruit, as often suggested, is useless if they are not ready.

There are several varieties of avocado, and some of them have quite a high tolerance to cold weather. (It gets cold here, but we do not get frost.) We have four mature trees; we do not find they are prone to pests, except birds who tend to arrive at the very end of the season when the avocados have been on the tree as long as they can stay.

Avocados need water. Sadly, a dry season can produce nothing.

One down side to so many avocados is you can’t pickle them for later. (Not that I know of) Of course, having too many will make you a hit with your friends and neighbours. My friends only invite me to visit in avocado season. I have been wondering about that...

The most irresistible thing about avocados is guacamole. I am sure most people know how to make it, plenty of garlic and some lemon or lime to taste is my preference. My tip is, when you put the cling wrap on the bowl, push it right down so it is in contact with the dip. Then it won’t go brown. Also make it ahead of time so the flavours have time to fester.

Grass, Wivenhoe Pocket

2009-06-08T11:59:00.004+10:00

One of my favourite places...yes, it is grass.

Green grass is something we don't take for granted in Wivenhoe Pocket. Grass is just as likely to be dry and crackly.

Lying in the winter sun, on the green grass, or in the shade on a hot summer day. Perfect!

The right place at the right time...with a camera!

2009-05-25T19:37:00.002+10:00

Adventure Sunday

2009-05-24T22:38:00.004+10:00

Tama says the best thing about the our walk was going through the water. The second best thing was the chocolate. The worst part was thinking the mud on his hat was chocolate.

Finding our way up the normally dry gorge was certianly challenging.

It's Raining Agian!

2009-05-21T18:00:00.003+10:00

Marsden Parade 8.30am

Bundamba Creek

Wivenhoe Pocket - My Garden

2009-05-19T21:44:00.004+10:00

Under the grapevine,

by the rosemary bush,

bigger than any rosemary bush you have every seen,

watching the parrots steal guavas.

Claremont House

2009-05-10T16:02:00.003+10:00

Claremont House

Elegance, sandstone and cedar on the Bremer River.

http://www.slq.qld.gov.au/whats-on/exhibit/online/timewalks/other/ipswich/claremont

Sweet Contradiction

2009-05-09T15:18:00.003+10:00

The moon looks most fine when against the black sky.
Coffee is never more divine than with chocolate.
The funniest of comedies are full of tragedy.

Autumn

2009-05-04T15:03:00.003+10:00

Crisp.
Morning fog hugging the trees
and daytime skies blue
and blue.
My hand in my winter coat
finds
last years tissues
soft,
clean,
reassuring
like cashmere.

My backyard

2008-07-04T19:38:00.009+10:00

Winter wattle

My Angel Coffee

2008-06-30T15:14:00.002+10:00

The guy who makes my coffee calls me Beautiful and Angel. He says it to everyone, but I don't get called Angel enough so I will take what I get.

Amazing Maize

2008-04-22T18:16:00.003+10:00

Life is rather like a maze. You have to let yourself get lost to have the satisfaction of finding yourself again.

http://www.maze.co.nz/