The Crossroad Inn

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...

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

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. G 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. G 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. G, 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. G, 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. G 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

Why do people say one thing and do something else

Why do people cheat

Why are People False

Why Do People Lie

Some of you may know that my first husband, Kiralea and Kaelan’s father died last year of liver disease.

He was my soulmate. There was 17 years between the two of us but we were like yin and yang together.

I left my husband in January 1999. I swore I would never do that. I swore we would be together until death us did part. I still to this day find it hard to reconcile in my mind that I lied.

I miss him. It is that simple.

He lives on through his children though, especially through Kaelan who looks exactly like his father. One day soon I may feel strong enough to write of our time together in detail but at the moment it is still to raw for me to breach that fence.

I have sitting in front of me at the moment, six journals, full of our life together. My husband was an avid "Logger" right down to drawing a symbol in the days journal entry when we had sex. That went down like a ton of bricks when I was showing Kiralea and Kaelan the entries from the days around when they were born and Kae pointed to the little hand drawn head with a big grin on it’s dial up the top of the page.

Kaelan"Whats that little head mean mum"
Me "Umm it’s a little head hun"
Kaelan "Yeah but what does the head mean mum"
Me "Oh I don’t know your father did lots of weird things"
Kaelan "Hey look mum it’s on this page and this page to and here is one with a body on it. I like the smile on his face mum. What did it mean"
Me" Oh I don’t know really, Kiralea do you want to see when you were tiny"
Kaelan " I want to know what these heads are though mum"
Me (getting exasperated) Don’ worry about it Kaelan.
Kiralea (starts laughing at me) "I know I know I know what it is".
She grabs her brother by the arm and starts dancing around giggling behind her hand".
Me "Oh yes missy and what would that be".
Kiralea grabs Kaelan tighter and whispers loudly in his ear "ITS WHEN THEY HAD S-E-X" - she spelt the sex part out.
Me is now bright red
Kaelan (Pores over the journal again very quizically). But how come there’s heads on most the pages but there is bodies on a few too.
Me" Umm didn’t you want to look at your first few weeks of life Kiralea
Kaelan "I still don’t get the head bit"
Me "oh Look Kiralea you were a month old here"

and he can just keep on not getting that bit for a few years yet :)

Over the past few days with having Kiralea’s poetry up on my blog and now on my poetry profile http://www.myspace.com/kaospoetry I have noticed a statement crop up quite often. "You get your talent off your mother"

That is not strictly true. Kiralea actually gets many of her talents from her father and I could argue that Poetry is one of them. So today I thought I would feature my favorite of Keith’s Poetry. It certainly isn’t a mushy mushy poem but I think it was one of his best pieces.





and finally to end my little bitza blog off. Brodie was most upset today when he found out that Unicorns don’t exist anymore. Being Brodie though he has the answer. Click the movie below to see.

I was sitting there this morning putting my thinking socks on to avoid the fleas that the dog bought in and I began to ponder

Karma

What is Karma.
What exactly is Karma.

Does it exist?

Is it real?

And How does it work?

My mother often tells me that I must have run over a Chinaman in a past life.
Ok all you race card holders
*It's an old saying*
*Please take it up with the author and say hi to St Peter for me while you're up there debating with that poor unfortunate Philosopher, now branded a racist, who originally wrote it.

That one little ditty saying sent me off the crossroad onto all different pathways and byways.

If I had indeed run over a Chinaman in a past life, does Karma mean I will get run over by a Chinaman in this life.
*Please don't get ideas*
I keep telling you all, I like Chinese People. What's not to like.
There is so many to choose from.

So does Karma mean that instead I will be run over by three Chinamen in this life?

But most of all is it restricted to a specificness.

Is Karma Tit For Tat.

*an eye for an eye*

Or even three eyes for one eye.

If you slap someone in the face now.
Are they going to slap you back in the face later?

Does Karma take shape in any form?

If I had mowed down a white man in a past life, would I now trampled by an elephant in this life?

Or is it just a case of
"You got me so the universe owes you one"

Like that time as a kid when you tortured the wings off the butterflies and cut the girl's next door pigtails off above her ears.

Then forty years later a tornado comes along and whips your multi million dollar mansion away, leaving you just a lonesome pair of shiny red patent leather dance shoes in it's wake.

Karma?

IS there a certain timeline for this Karma?
Will it have to happen in this life?

Can I be good all this life and Still have Karma bite me on the ass in the next life?

Is there more than one life?
How many lives are there?

Oh wait.. sidetrack…
Sorry.. Those two sentences are a blog in themselves.

Is there a timeline of Karma

What is the timeline of Karma?

If Karma can Move in time, then can Karma travel backward in time.

Would it be possible to have already paid for future sins?

All that bad luck and karma, could it possibly be caused from something evil that you will one day carryout?

Like the time that Mean little Johnny kept coming along and kicking down every single sandcastle you built and bullying you in the school toilets every day.

Then forty years later you head a multi national land development firm that bulldozes an entire retirement community, destroying the habitat of 600 different species of animals and sending another 42 species into extinction.

Can You Pay in advance?

Can you work off your bad karma in some type of community service program?

Can you earn credits to balance the account?

Five Hail Mary's, six Good Samaritan deeds and one year in service to your sick grandmother to get the slate is wiped clean.
and that's brings me to the next point.

How is the good bad deed ratio measured?

Is it five good deeds equal one bad deed

Or

Is it one Deed for one deed.

with specials on Saturday afternoons.

2 For 1 sales

Fantastic Hilarious Man Sales Blog

Is there a rewards bonus scheme attached.

Is it like Freejack?
Earning credits and losing credits.

and What happens when your credit runs out?

History of the Karma - Blog Part 2

Does karma mean something entirely different.

Does Karma mean the direct result of Something.

The reaction to action.

Every action has a consequence.

Is this Karma?

I often heard in the aftermath of Steve Irwin's death the statement,

"Karma got him in the end"

and the follow up comments of

"he shouldn't have got so close to wild animals in the first place".

This wasn't a lone comment, many Australian's thought he was a dickhead, those people who had forgotten how to smile and be happy didn't like him and knocked him, hence the mean remarks.

The higher he climbed, the more he gave. The more he was knocked and ridiculed.

Whose Karma?

In the same week Peter Brock, an Australian legend car racing driver died in a car accident after hitting a tree while racing. No one mentioned Karma. No one said

"Oh well karma got him".

Yet like Steve, it was a tragic result and consequence of their actions. It was an accident that had both not been doing what they were doing, they would not have died.

Steve never wronged the universe.
He nursed animals and has built Australia zoo (see previous blogs) into such a magnificent tribute to animals. So how has Karma come into it.

What Karma?

If Steve does have karma, what would it be? Personally I think Steve's karma would be pretty darned good.

So was this a tragic accident?

Was this fate?

Was this karma?

What is Karma..

What is Karma to you?

The Pyramid

YOU opened up the doorway
AND risked a look inside.
YOU couldn't share the vision
AND the truth you had to hide.

YOU didn't build the pyramid
AND structure things just right.
YOU went and split the atom
AND were blinded by sunlight.

YOU forgot to use a mirror
AND bounce it all around.
YOU turned away, closed the eye
AND didn't speak a sound.

YOU didn't see me watching
AND knowing all the lie.
YOU kept on chaining spirit
AND didn't hear it's sigh.

YOU lusted for more power
AND greed went hand in hand.
YOU acquired gold and diamonds
AND built castles in the sand.

YOU built up debt to Mother Earth
AND that will never be repaid.
YOU reaped the crop that you sowed
AND lay in the bed you made.

YOU have asked for nature's fury
AND that is exactly what you'll get.
YOU know nature is the balance
AND at dusk the sun will set.