I used to teach early 1900s Australian history to thirteen year olds. Oft times it was difficult to say who was more bored- me, wondering when the overloaded spit ball above a child’s head would succumb to gravity and fall onto a desk… Or the students, whose hormonally overloaded brains wondered who the hell these people were, wearing full length clothes in Sydney during Summer? Didn’t they have singlets back them?
To be fair, the history of early European settlement in Australia is as dry as a dingo’s donger, especially in some Year 7 text books. But scratch the surface of almost any notable historical event and there’s intrigue, competing versions of the same event and terrible misunderstandings. The tale of Eliza Fraser, shipwrecked in paradise in the early 1800s, is one such event. Continue reading
A friend sent me a link to the New Yorker’s Daily Shouts entitled “Valentine’s Day Poems for Married People” which I clicked on and felt in turns humoured and a little sad. Don’t get me wrong, I have a long affinity with hating Valentine’s Day. I blame high school where I was never one of the popular kids getting five roses and eleven cards filled with hormonal adoration on Feb 14th. Apparently playing tenor saxophone in the band and being good at English but shit at Science is not particularly crush-inducing.
Aah day trips. Didn’t you love them as a kid? Hours in a hot car, forced to listen to a parent picked radio station whilst you fought bitterly with your sibling in the back seat? All in the name of family togetherness? Good times… Such. Good. Bloody. Times.
It all started out quite well with an idea to drive up to Harry’s Hut, a campground in the Great Sandy National Park at the top end of the Noosa Everglades. It’s a lovely boat ride along the beautiful Noosa River, or a lovely drive through the beautiful countryside. Continue reading
Hear that? Close your eyes. Listen. It’s the house in silence.
Oh the holidays- time for togetherness and family, friends and good times. It all starts off quite well until about Day 4 when the bloating and the sunburn and the odd hangover of note turns that blessed time into a foray of snippiness and rolled eyes behind pissed off backs. Forget racist/sexist/homophobic comments or adults displaying ridiculously childish behaviour: there’s so many other ways to turn your time off from Holi-Yay to Holi-I’m-Gonna-Lose-It-With-You-People. Continue reading
Where have you been Melinda? Usually you post 600 sub-par words on some random crap quite regularly but you have deviated from this predictable pattern. Why so, delicate flower?
Why so? Here’s why:
My daughter turned seven and decided to put ‘masochistic dictator’ onto her ever growing list of new found skills. She likes Shopkins and come hell or my grey hairs, she wanted a Shopkins party for herself and eight of her bestest friends. Like any mother worth her Continue reading
As a mum who can be in turn lazy and highly organised, I’ve come across a few ingenious ways to stay sane at dinner time when I’ve only got a few minutes to prepare before the lounge room explodes in a crying screaming toddler fight club. That delightful part of the Witching Hour when you realise the kids should have been fed about 30 minutes ago and there’s only so much more Paw Patrol they’ll watch before heads start to explode with hanger (it’s a thing). Continue reading