It's the morning after the Australian Open tennis men's final and Rodg the Dodge won again. I have nothing against Roger, but wish someone else could win for once! I know he's been beaten before - I think Rafael Nadal beat him last year and the GORGEOUS Marat Safin a year or so before that.
Did you know that apparently the golfing administration in USA had to do something to the rules so Tiger - he of the infamous wandering dick - couldn't win ALL the time. Apparently the public were staying away in droves because they were sick of the sight of him. Same with the Australian cricket team. What a mob of smug louts they are! 'We're only turning up as a favour to the other side because we know we'll win!' Poor winners and poor losers!
But I digress. How long before everyone gets sick of seeing The Fed win? I know it's up to the other players to work until they beat him, but the man is a machine - and getting a little smug this year, I think.
It's raining here this morning, quite a change from a dry spell recently.Up north in Australia it's the cyclone season and there's floods. My husband, Andrew, is a volunteer with the Red Cross Recovery Services. What this means is that when there's a disaster - floods, fire or whatever - he goes out with a team of volunteers and they visit every house/flat/farm to see what people need - money, clothes, furniture etc. The team gives them forms to fill in (yeah, Govt, I know!) and steer them in the right direction for assistance.
Earlier this month, Andrew undertook the Justice of the Peace course, which he is still doing, but this was so he could legally witness oaths in the field. If you lose all your ID in a disaster, you have to swear who you are :( Last year he spent time at Innisfail after the floods there.
Australia is a bugger of a country. If it's not flooding in the north, it's firing in the south ... People from outside think there's all that area for letting people from overseas move in and live,and we're not doing it. But I can advise them that there is nothing to live ON in the centre, in terms of normal household living and jobs. That is all done around the edges of the country!
On the other hand, Australia is a great country to live in - a safe country! We don't have to worry about going down to vote at electrion time and having the booth blow up around us! When I go to the shops, I can be reasonably sure of getting home safely. I feel so sorry for the innocents slaughtered in the name of "politics" in other countries. We have a great deal to be thankful for.
Andrew has buzzed off out to the donkey farm this morning to do some work, whipper-snipping weeds. We usually go out to groom donkeys on Monday, but they needed to swap the days around this week. If you want to see where we go and what it's all about: www.destinyboonah.com (not sure if there's an "au" on there or not)
Donkeys are stupendously affectionate animals. My favourites are a blue roan called Harry (a teamster donkey)Piers, a red teamster, and Joleen, a roaned mammoth donkey. Joleen is the size of a pony, Harry is much smaller, Piers about half-way between them. But all 24 of them are sweet, and I love them dearly!
I am off down town shortly to dump my library books.I don't know why I go to the library, I have around 1000 books of my own, a pile of them is always by my side of the bed waiting to be read ... and then I have to go and write them as well :(
Must be mad,
Bye for now!
Diana
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
After the Open - well almost
It's Sunday morning and I'm crouched over my keyboard being a wimp. Can't write, can't do much except be sorrowful that Justine Henin lost in the final of the Australian Open. Serena Williams played well, but I find her unacceptable as a sportswoman. I watched the YouTube video of her bad behaviour at the US Open and I can't for the life of me see why they didn't throw her out or suspend her from playing in ANYTHING - except perhaps a playpen.
I am sick of highly paid sportsmen and women behaving badly. Just who the hell do they think they are? I am sure they're not under the kind of pressure that many people are - abused women, physical disabilities (the kind not engendered by their own actions) illness and economic deprivation. Certainly, they have their personal troubles, but whoever said 'Money doesn't buy happiness' is right. But it DOES buy peace of mind! I am sure I could be, or have a loved one be, sick a whole lot easier if I didn't have to worry about the household bills!
Enough of that! I'm taking my husband, Andrew, out for lunch today :D
We're off to the Art and Soul Gallery which has a splendid cafe!
Bye for now,
Diana
I am sick of highly paid sportsmen and women behaving badly. Just who the hell do they think they are? I am sure they're not under the kind of pressure that many people are - abused women, physical disabilities (the kind not engendered by their own actions) illness and economic deprivation. Certainly, they have their personal troubles, but whoever said 'Money doesn't buy happiness' is right. But it DOES buy peace of mind! I am sure I could be, or have a loved one be, sick a whole lot easier if I didn't have to worry about the household bills!
Enough of that! I'm taking my husband, Andrew, out for lunch today :D
We're off to the Art and Soul Gallery which has a splendid cafe!
Bye for now,
Diana
Friday, January 29, 2010
Saturday January 30 2010
Australian Open tennis is almost finished. Tonight we have - hopefully - a big battle between Justine Hennin and Serena Williams. GO JUSTINE!!!
Andew and I have been glued to the tellie for the last month - Hopman Cup, then Aust Open - and withdrawal symptoms start tomorrow night when Ansy Murray and Roger Federer mix it. I like Rog, don't get me wrong - he's superb winner and an even more superb loser, when he does that is - but I would also like to see a Federerless win this year.
My whine for today is having to change the name of my first novel, Home Before Dark. It used to be To Ride A Wild Pony, until I remembered that was the name of a popular TV show a few years ago. I changed it to HBD, and have discovered that another author has published a book of that name last year. A very successful book too, so back to the drawing board.
Came up with a beauty: THE NAKED ROOM!
How can a room be naked? Very easily if it's ceiling, walls and door are of unpainted wood (splinters sticking out) and there's nothing inside except a window with a grill across it, a porta potti, a stretcher and a female classical pianist prisoner!
So here is an excerpt:
CHAPTER 40
As Dusk Falls
Saturday: 4.30pm
A stranger told me I am going to die tonight.
Ice chips of fear trickle through my veins.
Minutes race as seconds; I'm breathing my life away.
Please ... I have so much to do yet, a career that's only just started, plans for my life.
I want to have a family.
I'm being pushed out of the world before I've even lived.
The wooden floor feels like concrete beneath my knees. I wrap my arms around my body.
So cold.
Will be a gun - or a knife? They've drugged my water for days. I could drink it all at once, so I won't know anything when it happens, but what if something happens and I get a chance to get away?
What did I do to deserve this?
Deep down, I knew that letting me live wasn't part of their plan. The woman's hatred grows stronger every day.
God, please .. someone find me, before it's too late.
Rage surges through me, joining terror. I brace myself against the crude timber wall and cling to the window mesh to peer out into blackness.
How dare they? How dare they decide how long I'm to live?
* * *
If you were in a bookstore, idly thumbing through a novel, would you feel impelled to buy it and start from the beginning?
Please let me know!
Thank you for reading today,
Diana
Andew and I have been glued to the tellie for the last month - Hopman Cup, then Aust Open - and withdrawal symptoms start tomorrow night when Ansy Murray and Roger Federer mix it. I like Rog, don't get me wrong - he's superb winner and an even more superb loser, when he does that is - but I would also like to see a Federerless win this year.
My whine for today is having to change the name of my first novel, Home Before Dark. It used to be To Ride A Wild Pony, until I remembered that was the name of a popular TV show a few years ago. I changed it to HBD, and have discovered that another author has published a book of that name last year. A very successful book too, so back to the drawing board.
Came up with a beauty: THE NAKED ROOM!
How can a room be naked? Very easily if it's ceiling, walls and door are of unpainted wood (splinters sticking out) and there's nothing inside except a window with a grill across it, a porta potti, a stretcher and a female classical pianist prisoner!
So here is an excerpt:
CHAPTER 40
As Dusk Falls
Saturday: 4.30pm
A stranger told me I am going to die tonight.
Ice chips of fear trickle through my veins.
Minutes race as seconds; I'm breathing my life away.
Please ... I have so much to do yet, a career that's only just started, plans for my life.
I want to have a family.
I'm being pushed out of the world before I've even lived.
The wooden floor feels like concrete beneath my knees. I wrap my arms around my body.
So cold.
Will be a gun - or a knife? They've drugged my water for days. I could drink it all at once, so I won't know anything when it happens, but what if something happens and I get a chance to get away?
What did I do to deserve this?
Deep down, I knew that letting me live wasn't part of their plan. The woman's hatred grows stronger every day.
God, please .. someone find me, before it's too late.
Rage surges through me, joining terror. I brace myself against the crude timber wall and cling to the window mesh to peer out into blackness.
How dare they? How dare they decide how long I'm to live?
* * *
If you were in a bookstore, idly thumbing through a novel, would you feel impelled to buy it and start from the beginning?
Please let me know!
Thank you for reading today,
Diana
Monday, January 25, 2010
Tardy Blogger
I know I'm behind in my blogs, and my only excuse if the Australian Open tennis! Because Andrew and I are impoverished retirees, we do not have cable television, which means we get to watch tennis once a year. It starts with the Hopmann Cup and then trickles on to the Big One in Melbourne.
Mostly it's about 40 deg celcius here in Australia at any given time and place. This year I think it's not quite so bad. Last night we watched the Master, Roger Federer take apart out gladiator,l Lleyton Hewitt. I have never seen perfection before this. Hewitt did everything he possibly could, but Rodg The Dodge was in full form. I am quite sure he will be in the final.
On the writing front, I decided I need some agony, so sent off a submission to an agent in Victoria (they all seem to be in NSW or Victoria) so I can get a little rejection! If I ever get an acceptance I probably won't recognise what it is!
You never seem to stop editing when you write a novel. Every time I open the damned file, I see places where I need to tinker with it! I can't concentrate on the Celibate Mouse yet or begin writing the next one :(
The Australian of the Year was announced this morning and thank God, it's someone important again - a Professor who has done a lot of research into mental health. At one time, it was always a sportsman, some badly behaved footballer or cricketer who deserved the honour like a hole in the head. At least eh Aussie Government has woken up to the fact that we, the people, are fed up with these pathetic excuses for human beings!
Okay, I've had enough ranting for the moment.
Shall make a point of getting back into the swing of this very shortly ... after Saturday night when the finals of the Open are on!!!
Bless All,
Diana
Mostly it's about 40 deg celcius here in Australia at any given time and place. This year I think it's not quite so bad. Last night we watched the Master, Roger Federer take apart out gladiator,l Lleyton Hewitt. I have never seen perfection before this. Hewitt did everything he possibly could, but Rodg The Dodge was in full form. I am quite sure he will be in the final.
On the writing front, I decided I need some agony, so sent off a submission to an agent in Victoria (they all seem to be in NSW or Victoria) so I can get a little rejection! If I ever get an acceptance I probably won't recognise what it is!
You never seem to stop editing when you write a novel. Every time I open the damned file, I see places where I need to tinker with it! I can't concentrate on the Celibate Mouse yet or begin writing the next one :(
The Australian of the Year was announced this morning and thank God, it's someone important again - a Professor who has done a lot of research into mental health. At one time, it was always a sportsman, some badly behaved footballer or cricketer who deserved the honour like a hole in the head. At least eh Aussie Government has woken up to the fact that we, the people, are fed up with these pathetic excuses for human beings!
Okay, I've had enough ranting for the moment.
Shall make a point of getting back into the swing of this very shortly ... after Saturday night when the finals of the Open are on!!!
Bless All,
Diana
Friday, January 8, 2010
TRUE CONFESSIONS
by Vivaldi the Rat
My name is Vivaldi. I am a handsome, upstanding member of the rat community. People say I'm fat, but I'm only 900 grams. Quite sylph-like, really.
Yesterday, Mama let me play in the pigeonhole in her ‘puter desk. This is a treat, but I can't resist sneaking out to trundle across her key- thingy. She always catches me and puts me back in the pigeonhole, muttering something about peeing.
I can't help it! Last time she forgot to take me back to my litter tray in time. I waved my whiskers at her, but she was too busy writing a novel about some stupid concert pianist being kidnapped. She was just getting to the er - erot- erotica bit. Wouldn't mind some of that, but I got the unkindest cut of all when I was little. Still, eating has its compensations ...
Where was I?
Oh yes. Then I crawled over and leaned right over the edge of her desk, waving my arms in the air. All she did was laugh, pick me up and squish me - well, you see my problem, don't you?
Once she'd rinsed the keyboard out and dried it, I was forgiven ... except when she remembered, and then she started muttering to herself again. I couldn't hear much of what she said, but I know more of my crimes were included. A vest I re- laced for her got a less than honourable mention, as did the last time I shirt-dived and the scratches she had to explain on a doctor's visit. An ornament which got broken rated a short expl - explet - ex - never mind! It sounded quite cranky when she said it.
But that wasn't the biggest crime I've committed. The biggest and best was when I chewed the wires attached to the refrigerator motor.
Now, any self-respecting rat will tell you, the most fun to be had is when you hide. Especially if there's cats in the house.
At first, Mama and Daddy don't realise you're missing. They look casually around for all of two seconds before they panic. The cats are flung out of the house (he he) and the search begins.
There are several places which are very desirable for the game of "where's the rat," and I shall enumerate them as a guide for all ratlets.
Behind the curtains sitting on the window ledge is an oldie but a goodie - except one night when an owl spotted me and stood outside, peering through the glass. That was a baaaaaaaaaad moment.
Another successful hidey-hole is an open drawer. Nestling among the clothes is very comfortable. If you burrow deep enough, they won't discover your lace embroidery until they get something out to wear it. It could be a long time and you might be dead by then, so it won't matter. Well, we rats only live for two to three and a half years ... but perhaps it's better to save that trick until you're at least three and a quarter.
Up in the springs of the settee is an excellent place. It can sometimes take anything up to an hour to winkle you out. They give you treats because they're so glad to have found you, but if they don't, sitting in your house and turning your back on them for an hour or so usually breaks them down.
Boxes are a handy receptacle for hide and seek, but behind the long curtains in the lounge room are really great. Those hems can be very tasty. Sometimes you can chew holes fast enough so the sinkers fall out before you get sprung.
And if you can find a newly opened tissue box, pull out all the tissues, shred them and climb inside, things can become very exciting.
But the best place of all is in the refrigerator motor.
I can't understand why they always hunt under there last of all! Perhaps because it's always so dusty they don't want to pull it away from its niche. This would mean Mama's conscience makes her get the broom and dustpan out!
I of course, have no conscience.
Last time I hid in the refrigerator motor, they gave up looking for me before they went to bed. Well! The nerve of them. They only searched for an hour or so. Aren't I worth hunting for?
I made the mistake of sulking for too long, so when I got hungry, I had to eat the wires. (yum yum, not bad really).
They were real mad at me. Daddy said lots of wild things. The words "new,” "home" and "rat rescue" were bandied about rather freely, as I recall. Mama wasn't pleased. Her mouth looked all tight when she got off the phone after talking to the 'frigerator man.
They bundled me rather purposefully back into my condominium, where they left me without cuddles for a few hours. But it's not my fault I ate the wires. After all, a rat shouldn't have to starve to make a point, right?
And eating the wires in the refrigerator motor successfully diverted their attention from the laundry basket full of clean washing, where I spent a fruitful half hour or so before I got into the motor ...
. . .
by Vivaldi the Rat
My name is Vivaldi. I am a handsome, upstanding member of the rat community. People say I'm fat, but I'm only 900 grams. Quite sylph-like, really.
Yesterday, Mama let me play in the pigeonhole in her ‘puter desk. This is a treat, but I can't resist sneaking out to trundle across her key- thingy. She always catches me and puts me back in the pigeonhole, muttering something about peeing.
I can't help it! Last time she forgot to take me back to my litter tray in time. I waved my whiskers at her, but she was too busy writing a novel about some stupid concert pianist being kidnapped. She was just getting to the er - erot- erotica bit. Wouldn't mind some of that, but I got the unkindest cut of all when I was little. Still, eating has its compensations ...
Where was I?
Oh yes. Then I crawled over and leaned right over the edge of her desk, waving my arms in the air. All she did was laugh, pick me up and squish me - well, you see my problem, don't you?
Once she'd rinsed the keyboard out and dried it, I was forgiven ... except when she remembered, and then she started muttering to herself again. I couldn't hear much of what she said, but I know more of my crimes were included. A vest I re- laced for her got a less than honourable mention, as did the last time I shirt-dived and the scratches she had to explain on a doctor's visit. An ornament which got broken rated a short expl - explet - ex - never mind! It sounded quite cranky when she said it.
But that wasn't the biggest crime I've committed. The biggest and best was when I chewed the wires attached to the refrigerator motor.
Now, any self-respecting rat will tell you, the most fun to be had is when you hide. Especially if there's cats in the house.
At first, Mama and Daddy don't realise you're missing. They look casually around for all of two seconds before they panic. The cats are flung out of the house (he he) and the search begins.
There are several places which are very desirable for the game of "where's the rat," and I shall enumerate them as a guide for all ratlets.
Behind the curtains sitting on the window ledge is an oldie but a goodie - except one night when an owl spotted me and stood outside, peering through the glass. That was a baaaaaaaaaad moment.
Another successful hidey-hole is an open drawer. Nestling among the clothes is very comfortable. If you burrow deep enough, they won't discover your lace embroidery until they get something out to wear it. It could be a long time and you might be dead by then, so it won't matter. Well, we rats only live for two to three and a half years ... but perhaps it's better to save that trick until you're at least three and a quarter.
Up in the springs of the settee is an excellent place. It can sometimes take anything up to an hour to winkle you out. They give you treats because they're so glad to have found you, but if they don't, sitting in your house and turning your back on them for an hour or so usually breaks them down.
Boxes are a handy receptacle for hide and seek, but behind the long curtains in the lounge room are really great. Those hems can be very tasty. Sometimes you can chew holes fast enough so the sinkers fall out before you get sprung.
And if you can find a newly opened tissue box, pull out all the tissues, shred them and climb inside, things can become very exciting.
But the best place of all is in the refrigerator motor.
I can't understand why they always hunt under there last of all! Perhaps because it's always so dusty they don't want to pull it away from its niche. This would mean Mama's conscience makes her get the broom and dustpan out!
I of course, have no conscience.
Last time I hid in the refrigerator motor, they gave up looking for me before they went to bed. Well! The nerve of them. They only searched for an hour or so. Aren't I worth hunting for?
I made the mistake of sulking for too long, so when I got hungry, I had to eat the wires. (yum yum, not bad really).
They were real mad at me. Daddy said lots of wild things. The words "new,” "home" and "rat rescue" were bandied about rather freely, as I recall. Mama wasn't pleased. Her mouth looked all tight when she got off the phone after talking to the 'frigerator man.
They bundled me rather purposefully back into my condominium, where they left me without cuddles for a few hours. But it's not my fault I ate the wires. After all, a rat shouldn't have to starve to make a point, right?
And eating the wires in the refrigerator motor successfully diverted their attention from the laundry basket full of clean washing, where I spent a fruitful half hour or so before I got into the motor ...
. . .
Posting Writing and the Hopman Cup
I'm going to try posting my writing the way Alan from NBW site advised BEFORE I rush up stairs, clutching work for reviewing and essential items such as sweets (candies to my USA friends) and several rats to scamper over my person while I watch the Hopman Cup on TV.
For those not in the know, the Hopman Cup is a tennis match, one of the number prelude to the Australian Open which is played in Melbourne, usually in heat so bad the players all faint on court.
I love tennis! My father was a tennis-maniac who played a mean game himself. When my brother was little, father drew a line, tennis-net high, across the wall of the "red shed" at the bottom of the house paddock. The "red shed" was of course, red, and the repository for saddles, harness, horse feed, a platform of pumpkins grown as stockfeed, an old dray filled with farm junk and - no doubt -carpet pythons, rats and mice.
My brother and I practised hitting a tennis ball against the red shed for hours, finally graduating to a similarly painted board at one end of our tennis court, built in the late 1950s. There mother would hold soirees of some elegance - provided the dogs were chained up for the afternoon - and practice being the Queen Mother amongst our neighbours.
From this unauspicious beginning, Robert and I graduated to competition and inter-town-district tennis matches. We were coached tennis at school as well as music lessons. My brother became not only an A-grade tennis player but a fine musician as well. I was an average tennis player and not too bad a pianist when I was forced to practice!!!
However, all this background chatter is leading up to the Hopman Cup. Harry Hopman was an Australian tennis player who led the way into modern professional tennis by forming the first Australian tennis teams. Ken Rosewall, Lew Hoad were the first tennis stars Australia ever boasted - the "tennis twins" though they were unrelated, one tall and fair the other dark and short. Robert and I had the pleasure of meeting both of them when they did a country tour of exhibition matches. I also met Frank Sedgeman, Tony Trabert and a gorgeous little number called Lius Arillo who held court amongst we wittering girls!
Harry Hopman set himself up in America but Australia always remembered this illustrious gentleman, so one of the first tennis matches for the year is held in Perth, Western Australia every year. It's an inter-country competition, the prize being a fabulous cup, and the players prizes are two tennis balls embroidered with REAL diamonds! I kid you not!
Today is the last day, the finals. Spain is playing Great Britain so there is considerable excitement in the British camp as it's the first time they have ever got this far! The protagonists are Andy Murray and Laura Robson, a 15 year old junior player who has more than aquitted herself!
And - joy of joys - the Australian Open begins so Andrew and I will be affixed to the TV like bookends, eyes shaped in rectangles for 12 hours a day. The other 12 I am actually planning to get my entry in for The Cloud. Fragments of it have been whirring around in my head like bees, so while Andrew is doing his Justice Of The Peace course in Brisbane next week , I shall just have to get to work!
I guess I'd better stop babbling and get upstairs. I might miss a second of the action!!!
Oh, I forgot - the posting. Better give it a try!
Diana
For those not in the know, the Hopman Cup is a tennis match, one of the number prelude to the Australian Open which is played in Melbourne, usually in heat so bad the players all faint on court.
I love tennis! My father was a tennis-maniac who played a mean game himself. When my brother was little, father drew a line, tennis-net high, across the wall of the "red shed" at the bottom of the house paddock. The "red shed" was of course, red, and the repository for saddles, harness, horse feed, a platform of pumpkins grown as stockfeed, an old dray filled with farm junk and - no doubt -carpet pythons, rats and mice.
My brother and I practised hitting a tennis ball against the red shed for hours, finally graduating to a similarly painted board at one end of our tennis court, built in the late 1950s. There mother would hold soirees of some elegance - provided the dogs were chained up for the afternoon - and practice being the Queen Mother amongst our neighbours.
From this unauspicious beginning, Robert and I graduated to competition and inter-town-district tennis matches. We were coached tennis at school as well as music lessons. My brother became not only an A-grade tennis player but a fine musician as well. I was an average tennis player and not too bad a pianist when I was forced to practice!!!
However, all this background chatter is leading up to the Hopman Cup. Harry Hopman was an Australian tennis player who led the way into modern professional tennis by forming the first Australian tennis teams. Ken Rosewall, Lew Hoad were the first tennis stars Australia ever boasted - the "tennis twins" though they were unrelated, one tall and fair the other dark and short. Robert and I had the pleasure of meeting both of them when they did a country tour of exhibition matches. I also met Frank Sedgeman, Tony Trabert and a gorgeous little number called Lius Arillo who held court amongst we wittering girls!
Harry Hopman set himself up in America but Australia always remembered this illustrious gentleman, so one of the first tennis matches for the year is held in Perth, Western Australia every year. It's an inter-country competition, the prize being a fabulous cup, and the players prizes are two tennis balls embroidered with REAL diamonds! I kid you not!
Today is the last day, the finals. Spain is playing Great Britain so there is considerable excitement in the British camp as it's the first time they have ever got this far! The protagonists are Andy Murray and Laura Robson, a 15 year old junior player who has more than aquitted herself!
And - joy of joys - the Australian Open begins so Andrew and I will be affixed to the TV like bookends, eyes shaped in rectangles for 12 hours a day. The other 12 I am actually planning to get my entry in for The Cloud. Fragments of it have been whirring around in my head like bees, so while Andrew is doing his Justice Of The Peace course in Brisbane next week , I shall just have to get to work!
I guess I'd better stop babbling and get upstairs. I might miss a second of the action!!!
Oh, I forgot - the posting. Better give it a try!
Diana
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Thursday's moan
7th January.
Is it already a week into 2010? Crikey! I'm having trouble even finding this page to write my blogs on and everyone who has kindly left comments, I can't find my way back to answer them :(
Anyway, yesterday was not a good day (whine whine) I scooted over to a nearby town called Beaudesert ( pronounced beau-des-ert accent on des) to do my fortnightly 3 hour stink at the Animal Welfare League op shop. For those who don't know op shops, they're secondhand clothing and furniture stores. This is a little narrow cubby hole packed with clothes and nick nacks. We had a reasonably good day, but I ended up very bored. I'm not usually bored, but couldn't wait to get home. And when I did get home, there was a rejection letter from a literary agent waiting for me. Not a good day, as I said. However, it's only the first I've received since I tarted up the novel. My friends on the Nextbigwriter site shook me out, dusted me off and sent me back out to "fight ze bull!" Coming, bull!!!
Today we're going into town, Ipswich, grocery shopping early. Put the rats out on the back landing so we'd better be home early. Australia is in summer - I feel almost sorry for those of you who are knee deep in snow, except when it's 40 deg celcius here! Actually it hasn't been that hot for a few weeks now thank goodness. It's been raining buckets and the farmers out west are delighted, when they're not mourning their lost livestock. I always feel sorriest for the animals because they are so helpless. People can always reason things out and know when to scarper. Animals are so dependent on whether a farmer can get to them, whether there's higher graound to stand on and when they do find it, they sometimes have to stand there until they get footrot and have to be shot. Oh dear. As a farmer's daughter I understand all this but we lived in a valley in the mountains in northern New South Wales and didn't get flooded.
So better get ready, because I can hear Andrew glumpping around upstairs doing the washing up (as every good man should) and he'll want to get going shortly. We sop at Aldi, a great store where we can save 40-50 dollars a week over Woolworths and Coles. Great place and all their choccies are European!!!!
I'd better get my CDs and program out for my radio program tonight. When I get back I'll post it here so if anyone is also a classical buff, they can play the whole program themselves if they have the same music!
Wil be back to babble later :)
Diana
Is it already a week into 2010? Crikey! I'm having trouble even finding this page to write my blogs on and everyone who has kindly left comments, I can't find my way back to answer them :(
Anyway, yesterday was not a good day (whine whine) I scooted over to a nearby town called Beaudesert ( pronounced beau-des-ert accent on des) to do my fortnightly 3 hour stink at the Animal Welfare League op shop. For those who don't know op shops, they're secondhand clothing and furniture stores. This is a little narrow cubby hole packed with clothes and nick nacks. We had a reasonably good day, but I ended up very bored. I'm not usually bored, but couldn't wait to get home. And when I did get home, there was a rejection letter from a literary agent waiting for me. Not a good day, as I said. However, it's only the first I've received since I tarted up the novel. My friends on the Nextbigwriter site shook me out, dusted me off and sent me back out to "fight ze bull!" Coming, bull!!!
Today we're going into town, Ipswich, grocery shopping early. Put the rats out on the back landing so we'd better be home early. Australia is in summer - I feel almost sorry for those of you who are knee deep in snow, except when it's 40 deg celcius here! Actually it hasn't been that hot for a few weeks now thank goodness. It's been raining buckets and the farmers out west are delighted, when they're not mourning their lost livestock. I always feel sorriest for the animals because they are so helpless. People can always reason things out and know when to scarper. Animals are so dependent on whether a farmer can get to them, whether there's higher graound to stand on and when they do find it, they sometimes have to stand there until they get footrot and have to be shot. Oh dear. As a farmer's daughter I understand all this but we lived in a valley in the mountains in northern New South Wales and didn't get flooded.
So better get ready, because I can hear Andrew glumpping around upstairs doing the washing up (as every good man should) and he'll want to get going shortly. We sop at Aldi, a great store where we can save 40-50 dollars a week over Woolworths and Coles. Great place and all their choccies are European!!!!
I'd better get my CDs and program out for my radio program tonight. When I get back I'll post it here so if anyone is also a classical buff, they can play the whole program themselves if they have the same music!
Wil be back to babble later :)
Diana
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
CADFAEL'S CACHE
Greetings from Australia! To be exact, southeast Queensland.
This is my very first blog and to be truthful, I'm not sure what I'm doing!
I guess the main purpose of this blog is to stretch my wings, to meet and talk to as many people as I can. As I am not exactly in my first youth, and still marvel at being able to hear a telephone ring on the other side of the world when I press a few buttons, you will understand why my "mind boggles" at the internet. But I love it!
The second reason why I am launching myself into the blogging world is tell everyone about the novel which I have written and with which I am trying to take the publishing world by storm!! Love that "by storm," a description much beloved of the media! Conjures up images of some mad thing charging into a crowd, waving something lethal - like a dish mop or broom :D
But will tell you about that next time!
A little about myself:
I am a granny of three + two delightful teens, the children of my much-loved daughter-in-law. I live with my husband Andrew in a small country town in southeast Queensland, just over an hour south west of Brisbane. We've lived here 14 and a half years and not regretted one moment of it. Being refugees from a place called Wellington Point just outside Brisbane, we are grateful to be able to savour the mountains. Wellington Point, right near Cleveland Bay and the Moreton Bay isaldns, has changed from a farmland and family acreage area to a sea of red, white, black - you name it - roofs - brick "brawl-boxes" and nappy valley.
When we first came here to Boonah, we purchased a 35 acre small farm on which we raised Scottish Highland cattle and mice! Yep, mice, of all breeds and varieties.
For 10 years our business was a mouse circus - you can see it in action on You Tube (mouse circus Australia) - and while we didn't make a fortune by any means, we had a good living. It was bloody hard work chasing work. The agricultural show season in Queensland starts in February and goes until mid-October. In between shows (fairs for Americans!) the mice performed at schools, children's parties, "open days" at pet shops and vet surgeries. The problem however for the shops was that no one went inside the shop, they all stood outside and watching the mice in action!
Our biggest show of the year was the Brisbane Exhibition (the EKKA) where the mice performed for 10 days straight! As with all the shows, the mice performed for six hours per days, different mice for each "shift." There was the morning shift - usuall 9am-11am, the afternoon shift, 1pm - 3pm and the night shift, 6-8pm. Each shift of mice numbered 50, so for a day's show we needed to take 150 mice. We used to take males and females (separated of course!) but the males used to brawl all the way to the venue and arrive bleeding. When put into the circus, they fought, sunk and hung around the pub! SOund familiar, ladies ?
The "pub" in the circus is large, pottery "broken" tea pot called The Cat and Rat! If you go to You Tube you will see it in the circus!
Sadly, after 10 years we decided to sell the circus, but unfortunately no one wanted it. I gave away mice and sold mice to breeders, however the circus is still packed into it trailer. Maybe some day someone will come along who's not afraid of hard work and will make their fortune with it!
In the mean time, I have 6 pets rats whom I adore, and am the mouse judge for the Queensland Rat & Mouse Club shows!
That's all for today, folks :)
Diana aka Cadfael.
This is my very first blog and to be truthful, I'm not sure what I'm doing!
I guess the main purpose of this blog is to stretch my wings, to meet and talk to as many people as I can. As I am not exactly in my first youth, and still marvel at being able to hear a telephone ring on the other side of the world when I press a few buttons, you will understand why my "mind boggles" at the internet. But I love it!
The second reason why I am launching myself into the blogging world is tell everyone about the novel which I have written and with which I am trying to take the publishing world by storm!! Love that "by storm," a description much beloved of the media! Conjures up images of some mad thing charging into a crowd, waving something lethal - like a dish mop or broom :D
But will tell you about that next time!
A little about myself:
I am a granny of three + two delightful teens, the children of my much-loved daughter-in-law. I live with my husband Andrew in a small country town in southeast Queensland, just over an hour south west of Brisbane. We've lived here 14 and a half years and not regretted one moment of it. Being refugees from a place called Wellington Point just outside Brisbane, we are grateful to be able to savour the mountains. Wellington Point, right near Cleveland Bay and the Moreton Bay isaldns, has changed from a farmland and family acreage area to a sea of red, white, black - you name it - roofs - brick "brawl-boxes" and nappy valley.
When we first came here to Boonah, we purchased a 35 acre small farm on which we raised Scottish Highland cattle and mice! Yep, mice, of all breeds and varieties.
For 10 years our business was a mouse circus - you can see it in action on You Tube (mouse circus Australia) - and while we didn't make a fortune by any means, we had a good living. It was bloody hard work chasing work. The agricultural show season in Queensland starts in February and goes until mid-October. In between shows (fairs for Americans!) the mice performed at schools, children's parties, "open days" at pet shops and vet surgeries. The problem however for the shops was that no one went inside the shop, they all stood outside and watching the mice in action!
Our biggest show of the year was the Brisbane Exhibition (the EKKA) where the mice performed for 10 days straight! As with all the shows, the mice performed for six hours per days, different mice for each "shift." There was the morning shift - usuall 9am-11am, the afternoon shift, 1pm - 3pm and the night shift, 6-8pm. Each shift of mice numbered 50, so for a day's show we needed to take 150 mice. We used to take males and females (separated of course!) but the males used to brawl all the way to the venue and arrive bleeding. When put into the circus, they fought, sunk and hung around the pub! SOund familiar, ladies ?
The "pub" in the circus is large, pottery "broken" tea pot called The Cat and Rat! If you go to You Tube you will see it in the circus!
Sadly, after 10 years we decided to sell the circus, but unfortunately no one wanted it. I gave away mice and sold mice to breeders, however the circus is still packed into it trailer. Maybe some day someone will come along who's not afraid of hard work and will make their fortune with it!
In the mean time, I have 6 pets rats whom I adore, and am the mouse judge for the Queensland Rat & Mouse Club shows!
That's all for today, folks :)
Diana aka Cadfael.
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