Mamalade

I hate it when I get this far behind. It’s like everything else – the longer you leave it, the harder it is to make a start. Like when you start watching something on TV before doing the washing up - “just for a few minutes,” and you don’t feel like getting up again to do the dishes. You keep putting it off, until finally at midnight when you are stumbling around half asleep, and the grease has congealed on the plates. At least washing dishes doesn’t involve too much brain activity. Writing is worse. How do you kick start a sluggish brain?

Visitors from Sydney

Ben & Agnieszka came up from Sydney for a few days last month. They were here during “Ekka” week. That’s what we call the big Royal Brisbane Show or Exhibition. They went with Joel and Frances and the kids. I didn’t go – I had a shocking case of conjunctivitis that week. I was quite a sight, with bulging red eyes. (Just imagine, not seeing your son & his wife for nearly 2 years, and then greeting them in that state!) Miles and Hayley came home laden with sample bags. They’d had a great time. Agnieszka said she was surprised to see what a big event it is in Brisbane. They had record crowds this year.

Picnic at Mt Cootha

The next day we all went for a barbecue picnic at the foot of Mt Cootha. Mum and my three sisters and their families all came too. It was a beautiful spot. I loved the way the afternoon sun shone through the branches of huge weeping fig trees and scrub turkeys scuttled about looking for handouts. We were just in time to salvage the cake Mum had made for Lea’s birthday, but the centre of the cake & most of the icing had to be cut out after one of the scrub turkeys helped itself. The kids had a wonderful time playing cricket and exploring some of the bush trails.

Culling plants

The winter is really over now. The weather is perfect – if only we had some more rain. I’ve been tipping out some of my pot plants. (Maybe I should say plant pots – someone once wrote & asked if was growing marijuana!) I tell the plants they have to do something to justify their existence if they want their share of precious water. Yes, sometimes I talk to plants! One day I accidently knocked over a plant and was apologising profusely when my neighbour looked over the fence and asked “Are you alright?” The tone he used implied that he certainly didn’t think so!

Bush Fires

Anyway, things are getting pretty dry. There have been a few fires in the the nearby bush reserves. Some of them are quite close to the local schools and the children have been evacuated, just in case. 8- year-old Miles rang me one night and reported excitedly, “There was fire all around our school, we had to have lunch in the schoolroom. There were helicopters dropping water on the fire and one of them crashed…. (I don’t think it did really – it probably just disappeared over the horizon.) He sighed contentedly… “I had a good day!” Evidently he likes a bit of excitement!

Back to School

We celebrated our World Vision Club’s 29th birthday this month with a Back to School morning. Mum looked really good in her granddaughter Shea’s school uniform. I was the teacher in a mortar board hat & gown. We shared some stories of old school days and looked at some school memorabilia. I suppose we’ll have to do something special next year, for our 30th birthday.

Last week we had planned a street stall and had everything ready, but 3 of us had fluey colds and we had to cancel it. We’ll try again next month.

Meanwhile, I’m still trying to sort the stuff in my back shed. A few people have brought things for our jumble sales. One day while I was out, someone brought 2 carloads of stuff & left it in the shed. I couldn’t even get in past the doorway! Most of the things were really good – toys, books & bric-a-brac. I was looking forward to selling some on the stall, but now it will have to wait till the next jumble sale.

wallaby_s

Koala Park
Our Minglers group from the church went on a bus trip to the Daisy Hill Koala Park. There are hundreds of koalas high up in the gum trees, but the only ones we saw were two very sleepy koalas in the Koala Park Centre building. But we saw plenty of friendly wallabies who ambled over to join us, probably hoping for a snack, but alas, there were notices prohibiting us from feeding the wildlife. Some kookaburras flew down and eyed us hopefully as well.

Some of our group went into the theatre at the Centre and saw a film about the koalas. I was busy browsing in the gift shop and missed the film, but later when we were taking a walk through the trees, our retired senior pastor remarked, “That was interesting in the film, when they said the koalas use some of the trees for food, and some are for socialising – and we know what that means!” He went quite pink when we all laughed.

Writers Festival

Another thing I went to this month was the Writers Festival at South Bank. My friend Meg and I took the train, and it didn’t cost me anything!

That’s because, the day before when we were discussing which sessions we wanted to attend, I said, “Sandy McCutcheon should be interesting – he’s a radio announcer.”

“You mean ’she,’ said Meg. “Sandy McCutcheon is a woman.”

“No, he’s definitely a man, I’ve heard him.”

“So have I,” said Meg. “She’s a woman!”

“Oh yeah? Want to bet?” I’m not really a gambler. Sometimes it’s the only way to end an argument.

She never learns. “Whoever is right can pay the train fare,” she said.

“You’re on!”

The forecourt by the river at South Bank was dotted with big white tents sporting coloured signs to designate the Red Tent, Blue Tent, etc.

Sandy McCutcheon was hosting several sessions, but not the first one we intended to attend. We made sure we were early so we could find a good seat at the back, so we could leave when we wanted to.

“It’s a bit drafty here,” I said. “I can feel the breeze on my back.”

We moved over to the side section. “Can’t see so well here,” said Meg.

We moved to the other side. “Lets go down closer so we can hear,” I said.

We moved toward the front and sat down. A tall man came in and sat in front of us.

We moved further down. “No, not there, further along toward the middle.”

It seemed perfect, but there was a bright light over to the side, shining in our eyes. “Let’s go back a bit!”

We finally settled down and waited. A man got up and spoke into the microphone.

“I’m Sandy McCutcheon,” he said.

I don’t know if he noticed the two mad women trying to stiffle a fit of the giggles. As he introduced his guest, a political writer, it became obvious to us that this was not the session we had intended to grace with our presence.

We are just not into politics. “Lets get out,” I whispered. If we had still been at the back our departure would have been less obvious as we crept out.

“I thought we were in the green tent,” I said. “How did we get into the red tent?” The green tent.was crowded with no seats left, so we went to the blue tent and heard a rather fascinating scientific discussion but it was way over our heads.

“We should have been in the green tent.” said Meg.

“Never mind,” I said, “That moment when that fellow said ‘I’m Sandy McCutcheon,’ made it all worthwhile!”

So Meg paid my train fare. Lucky for her it’s half price on Saturdays.