“It will soon be Christmas,” I told Miles.

“Yes,” he said. “When it snows.”

Not much chance of that in tropical Queensland!

Miles helped me make an Advent Calendar. Just a one-week calendar – that’s long enough for a three-year-old. For each night we drew a picture of him sleeping and we stuck a shiny Christmas sticker inside each door for the days. It helped to take his mind off the bump on his head. I told him not to bounce on my tummy when I was lying down, but he still bounced – too high, and crashed down with his head against mine. He’s OK now, but my brains are still rattling.

Frances is also counting down the days. The baby is due this week.

“Do you think Joel ought to drive the car to work?” I asked at breakfast. “Just in case…”

“No, I don’t think it will happen today,” she said. “Maybe tomorrow…”

They’ve all been staying with me for the last month. Joel suddenly decided to get all their rooms painted before the baby arrived. (It’s sheer madness, of course, but it seems to run in our family – Ben & Agnieszka got their house painted and the floors sanded just before they moved to America.)

Anyway, the painting is finally completed, the mess cleaned up and most of the furniture back in position.

Now we are waiting for the baby to arrive.

Yeah… I know… It’s been 3 weeks. I’ve been trying to write…honest!

‘Spose you think I just sit down at the computer, put my fingers on the keyboard and the words magically appear on the screen…

It’s not like that. Sometimes it comes easily. Sometimes I have something to say, and miracle of miracles, even know how to say it!

But not always. In fact, not often. And not in the past 3 weeks. I did try…I did start writing about the sudden heatwave …and what a relief it was in the airconditioned supermarket…and how spectacle wearers came to an abrupt stop as they left the store, because their lenses had fogged up in the heat and they couldn’t see where they were going…

I tried to write about the storms and heavy rain that finally brought relief from the heat and made the weeds flourish in my garden…

Pretty boring stuff.

I was going to tell how some cat peed on my umbrella that I’d left outside the door to dry…(No, I don’t think it was one of my cats – they wouldn’t do such a thing…would they?) I was going to weave a yarn about how I stood under the shower with my umbrella, trying to clean it, and the strange look I received from my neighbour when I hung the umbrella on the clothesline to dry – just as it started to rain again…

Then it all seemed so frivolous and small minded, juxtaposed against the plane crash in New York, the war in Afghanistan, the landslide in Algeria… so many world shattering events that I couldn’t find words to describe…

I wanted to write something uplifting and inspiring about living in these challenging times.

I haven’t found the words.

Of course, I could have written about the sumptuous afternoon tea party Relle treated us to at a posh hotel overlooking the Brisbane River…or the Symphony Concert we attended and how I have always loved Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto…

Or the visits our Toastmasters Club members made to two other Toastmasters Clubs and although it was enjoyable, I still like our club the best.

I could tell you about the garage sales I visited with my neighbour on Voting Day…or the Handcraft Morning our World Vision Club had last week…

Or about how Oscar has decided he doesn’t want to stay inside with me at night and prefers to sit on the roof…you do realise that Oscar is a cat – don’t you?

And about the time I’ve spent with my cute 3-year-old grandson Miles, who will have a little brother or sister in about 5 weeks time. It’s getting close now…

Which means Christmas is only 5 weeks away… and I still haven’t done my Christmas shopping – haven’t even started it!!!

What I really need to tell you is that I’ll have family staying with me for the next few weeks, so I don’t know when I’ll be able to update next. I think I’ll just take a few weeks off – I might find the right words by then.

I’ll keep trying.

Halloween

It’s Halloween tonight. While I was buying fish and chips this evening, a witch came into the fish shop. So now I know what they eat!

Halloween has only started to catch on in Australia in recent years. We didn’t celebrate it at all when I was kid – which was just as well. I was nervous enough about scary shadows on the wall and monsters under my bed. I don’t think I could have coped with ghosts and witches.

We had a Halloween theme for our last Toastmasters meeting. Our guests must have wondered what they had let themselves in for when they entered the dim candle-lit room and were greeted by witches, ghosts and Dracula. Everyone entered into the spirit of the theme and we had a really good night. To suit the theme, I read an extract from “The Prince of Tides” – the part where Tolitha chooses a coffin. Everyone seemed to enjoy it.

Changing scene

The house down the street didn’t get removed, as we thought. It has been raised and is being bricked in underneath. It feels strange to look out and see a high house in the middle of all the low-set homes. Sort of spoils the streetscape, but already I’m getting used to it and hardly notice it. It’s not as bad as the eyesore almost opposite my house…

It happened the same day. First, I looked down the street and noticed the high house. Then I looked the other way. The house across the road has been painted… orange! About the same shade as the background of my website. It’s not my favourite colour. I chose it for my background because I wanted it to look something like marmalade, to suit my nickname.(in case you’ve wondered.) It’s okay for a website, but a house???

My next door neighbour leaned over the fence and asked, “What do you think of the colour?”

“I’ll have to get sunglasses,” I told him.

On the street

Plenty of excitement in our street this morning. I thought I smelled smoke when I was on the phone, but didn’t think anything of it. Next minute, I heard a siren in the distance. The sound came closer and closer – then suddenly stopped.

I looked out. People were coming out of their houses and hurrying down the street. I grabbed a banana (I always think of food in an emergency!) and went out to investigate.

“What’s happening?” I asked a couple of neighbours who were hanging over their front fence.

“There’s a fire down the road!”

Smoke was wafting up the street and a crowd had gathered on the corner. I crossed the road and walked a little way down the street. Smoke appeared to be coming from the back of the high house on the corner. I hoped the woman who lives there was OK. I know her slightly – she’s nice. Nothing else to see, so I turned back.

“Where is it?” asked a woman I’ve often seen at a distance but never spoken to. I told her. She told me about her bronchitis.

A neighbour from the other side wandered over. I hadn’t seen her for months although we live quite close. Another one came back from a better vantagepoint. “It’s not the high house. It’s the garage at the back of the next house,” she reported. “The car went up, too.”

I’m glad it wasn’t the house. Hope the car was insured.

I reported the news to my near neighbours who were still chatting over the fence. An elderly neighbour called after me, “If you see the local councillor, tell her we want a bus stop at the end of our street.”

I’ve never met the local councillor in my life! “You might see her before I do,” I suggested.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “You’re on the street more than I am!”

I think she was referring to the frequent street stalls we hold for World Vision. I hope so!

The fire engine and police had just left when three huge house removal trucks pulled up just down the road. My neighbour (he was still in the yard when I went out to greet my mower man who has turned up at last) thinks the little house about five doors down is going to be moved. I hope Miles can be here when they do it. He’d love it!

There’s not much grass for my mower man to cut, but it’s starting to grow now. We had one day of good steady rain last week. My plants looked quite perky the next day.

25-year Celebration

It’s 25 years since World Vision Clubs began in Australia. Our club started the following year, so we’ll have been going for a quarter of a century next year. Anyway, the Club’s Co-ordinator, Jennifer Evans organised a combined clubs 25-year celebration in the city last Saturday. Eight from our club attended. We took the train in to the city, then walked down to the taxi rank in Edward Street.

“By the time we find a taxi, we could have walked there,” puffed one of our party. “It wouldn’t have been much further.”

“It’s a long way to walk up Wickham Terrace,” I reminded her. “But it won’t be far to walk back down.”

The taxi driver was chatty. “They’ve had to close off fifteen floors,” he told us as he drove past a tall hotel. “It wasn’t just the World Trade Centre that was attacked. It affects us all.”

Some of the other clubs arrived late, looking exhausted from the walk up the steep hill. I was glad we’d taken a taxi.

It’s always good to meet up with old friends from the other clubs and to make new ones. I wished we’d had more time to mix and exchange ideas.

Jennifer brought us up to date with what World Vision is doing to help the Afghan refugees. There are three relief assessment teams in Pakistan, Iran and Tajikistan. World Vision is sending a 80 ton shipment of relief supplies – cooking sets, water, sanitation kits, blankets, tents, tarpaulins, etc. The task is enormous. There were over four million Afghan refugees before the U.S. attack. Now there are a further 1.5 million.

We had an interesting discussion about the solution of problems facing World Vision field workers, e.g. how to get information about AIDS prevention to people who were illiterate. Jennifer told us how they use songs and drama to convey the message.

Our time together was over too soon, and everyone hurried off to catch the train home. It wasn’t far to walk down Wickham Terrace to the station.

I couldn’t believe it when I woke yesterday. It was raining! Not just the transient light sprinkle we’ve had occasionally, not the slight teasing shower that makes you run to the clothes line, then it stops as you hurriedly un-peg the last item of washing. This was a good steady downpour, heavy enough to make me realise that there is a hole in my guttering, just above the bedroom window. The water was cascading through the hole onto the geraniums I had planted the day before.

It was heavy enough to wet my back when, hurrying to get to church on time, I got out of the car to close the garage door, which didn’t lock until the third time I slammed it. (Late again!)It has been so dry for months. My poor mower man hasn’t been around for ages and the grass is about the same colour as Ingrid’s belly.

By mid morning, it had stopped raining, but at least we know now – it’s still possible!

Top cat

When Ben and Agnieszka’s cats, Oscar and Olive moved in with us, I wondered how Ingrid would cope. She’s always been such a timid cat. If another cat looked at her when she was eating, she would murmur, “Pardon me for living” and walk away. Any other cat we’ve had has always lorded it over Ingrid. She got on quite well with Buddy – they used to lie on the back path together with their paws just touching. But sometimes Buddy would get a wicked gleam in his eye and roll poor Ingrid across the yard while she screamed blue murder.

Then had been a few little skirmishes lately. If I heard a yell, I’d run out and rescue Ingrid, but I hadn’t caught the perpetrator red-handed – until this week. I had just let the three cats inside. There was a dreadful screech from the back bedroom. I rushed in, and there was Olive, bailed up in the corner of the room – by Ingrid! Ingrid was calmly sitting there smirking, while Olive screamed. I can’t imagine Ingrid actually hitting another cat, but it seems, after being pushed around for nearly fourteen years, she has finally risen to the rank of Top Cat.

Pajama Sam

I was telling Frances about the cats as we drove to the hospital clinic for her check-up. She goes fortnightly now. A little voice came from the back seat of the car.

“I’m Pajama Sam,” said three-year-old Miles, “If your cat’s fight, I’ll put them in my seckonaladditional Pajama Sam lunch box!”

“A what kind of lunch box?” I asked Frances.

“I think it’s a ‘Limited Edition’ lunch box.” She said. “I’ll have to listen next time he plays the computer game.”

We came over the crest of a hill, where we had a view of the city in the distance.

“Look, there’s the whole world!” shouted Miles. “There might be crocodiles.”

“There’s no crocodiles here,” I told him.

“If they come here, I’ll put them in my seckonaladditional Pajama Sam lunch box! We’re going through the jungle now.”

“I hope there’s no lions!” I said.

“I’m Pajama Sam. I’ll catch them and put them in my seckonaladditional Pajama Sam lunch box!”

Frances and I couldn’t help laughing as he struggled with the big word.

“If you don’t stop that,” he said sternly, I’ll put you both in my seckonaladditional Pajama Sam lunch box!”

It’s no secret

It’s not a secret anymore. In fact, it’s getting quite obvious. Miles is going to have a little brother or sister.

“A sister!” Miles insists. But of course another little boy will be just as welcome. Frances doesn’t want to know what it is until it arrives. “It would be like opening your presents before Christmas.” This one really will be a Christmas present. It’s due on December 25!

Close your eyes

“Close your eyes,” said the speaker at our last Toastmasters meeting. “Imagine you are on an ocean liner. Now sway back and forwards with the waves.”

It was very effective – but I wish people who use that technique would tell us when to open our eyes again. After swaying for a while with my eyes closed, I stole a surreptitious glance at the others. They were all sitting up straight with their eyes fixed on the speaker. Just as well I peeped – it would have been embarrassing if I’d been the only one rocking to and fro with my eyes closed during the entire speech!

And I would have hated to miss his dramatic gestures as the Titanic sank. It was a great speech!

Is there room?

Mum had the flu and couldn’t go to our last World Vision Jumble Sale. That meant I had a spare front seat in the car.

“I’ll pick you up,” I told a friend. “You won’t have to catch the bus.”

“Goodness, you wouldn’t fit much more in the car,” She said when I called round for her. “It’s packed tight!”

“Oh, I usually bring a bit more than this,” I told her.

I was just about to pull out when, in my rear vision mirror I saw someone running down the road, waving frantically.

“That’s Joel!” Joel and Frances live just up the road from my friend’s place.

“Just as well I saw you,” puffed Joel. “The bus is late. I need a lift to the station.”

“Well…” I lifted a large box full of clothes from the back seat, and moved my trolley over. “You’ll have to hold a box on your lap.”

“Is there room in the boot?”

“No, it’s full.” I wondered why he would even consider travelling in the boot, but later I realised he must have meant to put the box in the boot. My brain doesn’t move that fast at 7 a.m.

Somehow, Joel got packed into the back seat of the car. You could just see his eyes peering over the top of the box as he issued driving directions all the way.

I ignored his instructions and followed my usual route – and got him to the station just in time to catch the train to work.

Images

“I had a plane like this when I was a kid!” A man held up the toy plane at our Jumble Sale and zoomed it through the air.

I felt like screaming, “Put it down!” as the vivid image of a plane crashing into a tower flashed through my mind once more. We saw the scene played over and over on the TV screen during that dreadful week. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at a plane again without thinking of it.

Loud-mouthed customer

Most of our Jumble Sale customers are nice. Some of them even bring donations of clothing, books or plants. Then there are people like the loud-mouthed woman who came in last time.

“I’m not paying 40 cents for this tea towel,” she yelled. “Look, there’s a mark on it! I’d have to soak it.”

“You wouldn’t want to use it without washing it first, anyway,” I told her.

“But I’d have to buy stain remover!” It did have a bit of a stain on it – but it was in good condition. Never been used.

“30 cents then,” I said.

“I’m not paying more than 20 cents!”

“Someone else will pay 30 cents if you don’t want it.”

“I’ll take it, but I’m only paying 20!”

She stomped around the room complaining loudly about all the prices. Meanwhile several other customers quietly made their purchases and said “Keep the change – it’s for a good cause!”

The woman finally selected an armful of goods and brought them over to the table. I noticed she had swapped the 40-cent sticker on the tea towel for one that said 20 cents. I quietly removed it and added 30 cents to her total.

But there was also a rather shabby shirt she had selected. She must have missed seeing the price on it, because it had a $1 sticker. If it had been anyone else, I would have said “You can have this for 50 cents.”

I kept quiet and added $1.

I think I won that round!

Speech No. 4 in the Toastmasters Advanced Manual “Specialty Speeches” Manual

Date presented: October, 2001

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The objectives of this speech were:

• To understand the elements that comprise oral interpretation and how it differs from preparing and giving a speech.
• To learn preparation techniques of effective interpretation.
• To develop skills in interpretive reading with regard to voice and body as instruments of communication.

Time 12 to 15 minutes.

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Tolitha’s Coffin

One of the more interesting characters in Pat Conroy’s book “The Prince of Tides” is the Grandmother, Tolitha. A gypsy predicts that Tolitha won’t live past her sixtieth birthday. Tolitha decides to purchase her own coffin and insists that her grandchildren, Hugh, Savanna and Tom accompany her, so they will learn not to fear death. The story is narrated by Tom.

 

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Sorry, I’ve removed the extract that I used for this project, as I don’t want to breach copyright. You can read the story in chapter Eight of “The Prince of Tides” by Pat Conroy. It needed quite a bit of editing to fit the 12 to 15 minutes requirement.COMMENTS

I chose this story because our meeting had a Halloween Theme. It was fun to read and everyone seemed to enjoy it. It was taken from Chapter Eight in “The Prince of Tides.”