Salt in the air

History of the Aboriginal Tent Embassy...

2012-02-01T05:29:00.002+11:00

By no means is this an exhaustive account, this is simply my understanding. If you find any inaccuracies, or have other points to add, please let me know in the comments.

this is still in draft format, I intend to include more links and photos when I have time to tidy it up

In the early 70's, Aboriginal people were growing increasingly frustrated. The 1967 Referendum, which seemed to promise so much, had done little to improve Aboriginal people's desperate situation, and not much seemed to have changed.

Many young activists in NSW had gravitated to Sydney, some inspired by the Freedom Ride in 1965, and made connections with other activists, both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal, home grown and overseas born. This networking and exposure to new people and ideas had a profound effect, and many Aboriginal activists set about expanding their political education and awareness with great vigour.

The Civil Rights Movement in America provided young activists with an example of successful Black political activism, and it is undeniable that it inspired many. Gary Foley discusses the vital role the Black Power movement played in Aboriginal politics in his thesis on his website. The images coming out of America were showing Black people demanding and asserting their rights, and they were gaining many victories. Aboriginal Australia looked at how much we had gained with years of non-confrontation and polite discussion, and became disenchanted. Groups like the Redfern coalition began to form.

Activists began organising networks and forming alliances with other like minded groups. More people drifted in and out, exchanging political philosophies and information, and spreading this new brand of activism and awareness. Early in 1970, through the direct work of the Redfern group (a coalition of activists based around the Redfern area) and with the support and assistance of Professor J. H. Wootten (Dean of the Law Faculty of the University of NSW), Australia's first shop front, free, legal aid centre opened its doors in Regent Street. In December of that year, the Minister for Aboriginal Affairs, Mr William Wentworth, announced a grant of $20,000 for the Redfern Aboriginal Legal Service, formally recognising it. It was a huge achievement for the community.

1971 proved to be an even more dramatic year for Australia and the Aboriginal community. The Springbok Tour proved to be one of the most important victories against racism that Australia had ever been involved in. The Anti Apartheid Movement, left groups, unions, and Aboriginal activists united in every city to express their outrage. The tour was completely disrupted, and the Springboks did not tour again until Apartheid was dismantled. It also led to the cancellation of the expected South African Cricket team tour of Australia later that year, with this declaration by Don Bradman, chair of the Australian Cricket Board;

"We will not play them until they choose a team on a non-racial basis."

Meredith Burgmann, one of the convenors of the AAM, is quoted as saying "One of the arguments that kept being raised by the apologists for the South Africans was ‘Well why don’t you clean up your own backyard? You know what’s happening to Aborigines’. And in a funny way that was very healthy…Young Aboriginal activists of the time were very prominent in the demonstrations against the Springboks, so people like me had actually met and started working with Aboriginal activists.”

It was a valid point, and Paul Coe pressed that point home when he delivered a scathing speech at one of the largest Vietnam War moratoriums, telling the thousands gathered

"You are our oppressors. You worry about
Vietnam, about the Black struggle in the USA or South Africa. But what
about us, here? You raped our women, you stole our land, you massacred
our ancestors, you destroyed our culture, and now — when we refused
to die out as you expected — you want to kill us with your hypocrisy …"

It was a turning point for Sydney's Left movement, as they were forced to recognise the injustices occuring under their own noses.

The momemtum carried on through the end of 1971 as Australia began to turn its face towards its own internal issues. An anti racism march in December in Sydney resulted in police attacking the marchers and was soon followed by demonstrations in other states. The Gurindji people and the Yirrkala people in the NT, and the Lake Tyers community in Victoria, were all staging land battles and raising awareness of their plight. Both Northern and Southern Indigenous activists were demanding recognition of their Land Rights through a system of freehold title.

A response to the public demand, and strong clear imaginative leadership from the Prime Minister Billy McMahon was needed, and expected, to carry Australia into the Seventies as a new enlightened nation.

What was delivered instead was the government's major policy statement on Aboriginal Affairs, on January 25th, 1972. The policy dismissed the notion of Aboriginal title to land or compensation for dispossession, and instead announced that "general purpose leases" to land areas would be provided to communities if they could demonstrate adequate economic and social use for them.

This speech was broadcast on radio, and was heard with outrage by the young Indigenous leaders in Sydney. Not only was the policy rejecting the notion of Aboriginal title, it was delivered the day before Invasion Day, the timing of which seemed a deliberate slap in the face to people who were already mourning the loss of an entire continent on that day. The activists gathered that night at one members flat to discuss how they should respond. After talking over a number of different ideas, it was decided that they needed to confront the Federal Government face to face, so four young men were chosen to travel down the coast to Canberra and set up an immediate response and protest to McMahons actions. They were intended to be a placeholder until a bigger response and demonstration was able to be organised.

So late that night, those four young men, Billy Craigie, Tony Coorie, Michael Anderson and Bertie Williams, were driven down to Canberra by Communist party photographer, Noel Hazard. When they arrived, they pitched a beach umbrella, put up a sign saying Aboriginal Embassy, and declared that seeing as McMahon's speech had effectively made them aliens in their own land, as aliens they were establishing themselves an Embassy of their own.

It was a masterstroke. Fully expecting to be carted away as soon as the ACT police could arrive, these four men found themselves the lucky beneficiaries of a loophole in ACT law. It seemed that as long as you had no more than 12 tents, there were no ordinances against camping on the lawns of Parliament House. The government was unable to remove this embarrassing protest right on their doorstep, and it ignited the whole of Australia.

An office tent and letter box were erected, delivery of mail began two days later. The Embassy had grown as the core Black Power group controlling the Embassy made their way to the site. A flag was designed and on 5th February, a Five Point Plan for Land Rights was developed and issued. Leader of the opposition, Gough Whitlam, formally visited the site and entered into talks with the Embassy about the matters it raised. Tour buses detoured to show off the new "attraction". Supporters began appearing from everywhere, and although the government viewed it all very darkly and with great suspicion, the overall feeling from the general community towards the Embassy seemed very positive. The Embassy was very quickly becoming the most effective, recognised and successful protest by Aboriginal people ever. The government HAD to respond.

And respond they did, details in next post to come.

The Sleeping Dragon Awakes?

2012-01-28T20:51:00.001+11:00

First I'm going to get the egocentric MEMEME post out of the way (and attempt to disguise it as a bit of blog housekeeping).

Where to begin?

Well, this blog is about to change. For how long I don't know right now, but it is. A lot of old entries are going to be permanently archived, and a lot of new entries are going to bear little resemblance to the bulk of previous ones. In other words, it's not going to be what you're used to.

If you're a long term reader (of which I have maybe four), congratulations! Your persistence has paid off, and Trin is finally posting again!

Anyway, what has been the catalyst for this? Well, recent political events in my country have reinvigorated my activist soul, and I find myself with so much to say but nowhere to say it.

Is it conceited of me to think what I have to say is significant or worthy of being heard? I really don't know.

I do know that current events directly affect me and mine on many levels.

I also know that many other people are speaking out and having their say when it DOESN'T directly affect them.

So I've been bombing Facebook, that evil den of iniquity, with posts in the past couple of days, but I'm sure the majority of my regular friends list are getting sick to death of it (they're used to a post once in a blue moon about my kids or something else totally innocuous). Probably think I've been hijacked by radicals or something (hahaha if only they knew).

So my dear blog, I'm afraid your lovely sedentary life of one post every year or so is about to change.

About the title, I find it very appropriate that my activism has resurged just as the Chinese New Year rolls in, ushering out the Year of the Rabbit (my sign) and welcoming the Year of the Dragon!

Been busy (and lazy), so here's a hottie for you.

2010-05-20T09:30:00.004+10:00

Timana Tahu, centre for the mighty Parramatta Eels, back when he played Union. He's even hotter now he's back in the blue and gold of the Eels (and more buff too). More hotties next time I post.

In other less exciting news, I'm enjoying being pregnant again now...and just in case you haven't heard, it's two boys, so C is really happy. J2 turned three yesterday, and J1 turns 14 on Saturday. Nothing else of real interest to note.

OMC...shocked stunned and amazed.

2010-02-24T04:03:00.001+11:00

I'm having twins! No wonder I've been so tired and sick. Honestly, I'm only conscious for about 4 hours of the day. Funnily enough, now that I know I'm having twins, I feel less sick (well at least today I have) AND I'm finding it hard to sleep tonight. Shame really, I was just getting used to sleeping at night heheh.

You know, before I had children, I really wanted to have twins. Then I had one baby and changed my mind. THEN my former best friend had twins, and my decision solidified, I really REALLY didn't want to have twins. Now it looks like I'm going to be getting my original wish...12 weeks pregnant with two. I'm in shock and overwhelmed.

My last post where I complained about feeling like I was giving birth to litters of squalling children must have jinxed me!

I'm also unbelievably excited...can't wait to find out the gender (would like to wait until the birth, but will have to have extra scans so might find out inadvertently), can't wait to find out if they're identical or fraternal...it's all so thrilling but scary too, like going on a roller coaster that just MIGHT come off the tracks!

Am pregnant again for hopefully the last time.

2010-02-20T23:56:00.000+11:00

And I feel like a gross animal or something, giving birth to litters upon litters of squalling children. Also feel sick and tired all the time. I'm getting too old for this shit.

These horrible things are in my garden.

2010-02-04T18:06:00.002+11:00

Warning to any arachnophobes...don't look please.

One nasty mudder fudger.

The most aggressive spider in the world, and I'm sharing living space with it. I must have been really really bad in my past life.

Apparently they like to wander when it's humid and raining too, searching for mates. Well, guess what the weather has been like lately? Yes, humid and rainy. I'm not normally fearful of spiders, hell I like the little critters...I used to catch flies and throw them into webs just so I could watch the spider dash out, paralyse them and wrap them up in webbing, but these guys? They look like the Handmaidens of Hell or something.

And now for something completely different...

2009-12-02T02:26:00.003+11:00

I'm hungry and craving Sultana Cornflake biscuits (cookies). Unfortunately I don't have enough sultanas OR cornflakes to make a full batch, so I'm experimenting.

Original recipe calls for:
125 g butter
1/2 cup caster sugar (superfine in USA)
1 lightly beaten egg
2/3 cup sultanas
1 cup SR flour
1 1/2 cup cornflakes

I'm using:
125 g butter
1/2 cup granulated sugar (I have no caster sugar)
1 lightly beaten egg
2/3 cup mixed sultanas and chopped lolly snakes
1 cup SR flour
1 1/2 cup combined cornflakes and crushed weetbix

Method:
Preheat oven 180c, grease oven trays. Beat butter and sugar until smooth, add egg and combine. Stir in sultana/lolly mix and sifted SR flour. Roll teaspoons of this mixture in cornflake/weetbix and place 3cm apart on greased tray. Flatten just a little, then bake for 20 mins or until golden brown. Cool on wire trays.

They've got about another 15 mins to go and smell pretty good so far. Hope they work out all right, but really, it doesn't matter because I'll eat them anyway.

edit to add: my biscuits are the total bomb....NOM NOM NOM!

Got our house yesterday...

2009-10-01T19:29:00.000+10:00

YAY, finally!!

Now comes the really hard work of getting everything up there.

I'm so upset.

2009-07-02T04:38:00.002+10:00

Nearly all my fish are dead. Went to Melbourne for a few days while D was interstate at yet another family funeral (his first cousin passed away) and while we were gone one of the power circuits in the house was tripped. Don't ask me how, it just did. It also just happened to be the circuit which the fish tanks ran off, so four days without a filter in the freezing cold of Muckleford equals hundreds of dollars worth of dead fish.

So upset. Most of the fish I'd been raising for the past five years...one of my clown loaches I bought as a two inch baby, and he'd grown to about 7-10 inches long and five or so thick...looked great. Now...not so great. I had seven of them, he was the largest by far and worth over a hundred dollars.

My beautiful breeding pair of bristlenoses, and their latest batch of babies...about 80 or so, all gone.

All my neons, all my guppies, the only survivors are the bronze corydoras, and they were only bought as a replacement for my pepper corydoras that died of old age.

I'm giving up on fish keeping, except of course for the hardy little bronzes, until I get back home to NSW.

So upset...never thought one could get attached to fish at all, but I did. Put soooo much time and effort into them, kept their water perfect, fed them really well, and now they're gone.

*sob*

Update to Mr Ward's story (see my March 24th post)

2009-06-21T10:02:00.002+10:00

The coroners report has been delivered, and it's scathing. Four Corners has done a really good report (well...as good as can be expected...I have some issues with it but on the whole it's very good).

For those that haven't heard the story yet, here's the recap.

A very well respected Elder and community leader from Warbuton in outback WA was arrested for drink driving, and placed in the lock up overnight. The next day he was driven in a metal box across the desert in temperatures over 42 celsius (107 f), with only a 600 ml bottle of water for comfort (you can see the bottle and the remains of his pie in the photo there). The air conditioner in the box didn't not work, and hadn't worked properly for some time. Temperatures inside the metal cell reached over 47c/116f, with surface temperatures reaching a shocking 56c/133f. At some stage during the 400km journey (which was conducted without any welfare checks or toilet stops), Mr Ward collapsed from heat stroke, striking his head on the metal seating. Upon reaching Kalgoorlie, the guards responsible for transporting Mr Ward claim they heard a thud from the back, and pulled over to check on their prisoner. They found him unconscious. Although only five minutes from a hospital, it took them closer to ten minutes to get there, whereupon Mr Ward was removed from the back of the van, and given immediate medical attention. This was a futile effort however, and Mr Ward subsequently died soon after. He was so hot that an hour after treatment began, after he was placed in an ice bath with fans, his core body temperature was still above 41c/105 f. Normal core body temp has a narrow range of 36.5c/98f to 37.3c/99.1f.

PLEASE NOTE: If you click through to Four Corners using the link above, be aware that there is a link on that page to the Coroner's Report, which might be of interest to some, HOWEVER, be warned it contains both an image of the deceased, and his full name, which may be distressing to some.

When I first wrote about this, I was really upset that no one seemed to be interested or care about this issue, or that this fine man, loving father, and good husband had been basically cooked slowly. The story has got a lot more recognition now, which is encouraging. Still, this all happened over a year ago, and only now is the family seeing anything even approaching justice. Sadly, we all know they wont get anywhere near the justice they deserve. The Warbuton community has lost a man who was the custodian of unique knowledge about the area and the culture, not to mention a tireless fighter for his people's rights. It is a sickening tragedy.

Please read this story...tell people about it...don't let this one be swept under the carpet too.

2009-03-24T14:06:00.001+11:00

If you care about human rights, please read these stories. The fact that this kind of thing can happen in this day and age is disgraceful. In Australia, there's a fairly MINOR outcry over this...no one seems to care much, or take it very seriously. In fact, most non-indigenous people I talk to are completely ignorant, and then once they're informed, become very flippant about it!! Maybe if the world took notice and expressed their outrage, then things would change...I don't know. What I do know is that despite the Royal Commission, despite our activism, despite it all, blackfellas keep dying in custody in disproportionate numbers, people keep getting slapped on the wrist, or worse getting away with it altogether, and mainstream Australia keep thinking "Well it (their death) serves them right for doing something wrong." Like this comment for example posted on Facebook (at this link, join this group if you're interested):

Marty Rodgers wrote at 15:59 on 18 December 2008 Maybe if they don't get arrested, there will be less deaths in custody. Stop blaming the police. Look closer to home....
Report

~Le sigh~

Really, how can people be so callous? Is it really acceptable that people can be killed in police custody for minor offences that have yet to be proved? Seriously, is that really okay? Or is it only okay when the people doing the dying are black?

Interested in reading more? The Indigenous News updates on Biting the Dust have more links (March 14 and March 24th in particular).

Victoria Burns

2009-02-09T20:11:00.052+11:00

My state is ablaze. 131 confirmed dead, and that figure expected to rise by another 100. Over 330,000 hectares burnt out, and more than 750 homes destroyed (more than 5000 homeless). There's a lot of people I know who lived in some of the worst hit areas, and I don't know how they are yet. Many people are in the same situation, the fate of their loved ones still unknown.

I'm still a little toey about the Redesdale Coliban fire, which is the closest one to us. I'm getting conflicting reports on its status. Some pages list it as contained and expected to be extinguished tonight, but others are listing it as still going (uncontained). Apparently there's no immediate risk, but things can change so quickly, I'm not able to relax really.

My favourite newsreader Brian Naylor and his wife Moiree are amongst the 33 dead in Kinglake. First hand accounts that I'm hearing about the disaster are just incredible. I am waiting to hear from a friend who's a local CFA volunteer...she's been flat out since Saturday, don't know how much sleep she'll have had.

Prayin' for rain, lots of it, in the right places.

Sat, 29th Nov 2008

2008-11-29T18:49:00.002+11:00

We're catching the train Sunday night, arriving in NSW Monday morning in Moss Vale at 5.22 am, transferring all the kids, the wheelchair and the bags to a coach that arrives in Albion Park at 6.25 am, and then catching the City Rail connection to Bomaderry, probably arriving some time around ten to eight.

Then I have a job interview at 12.30. Wish me luck!

Happy Thanksgiving to all my friends over in the US.

While you're waiting for me to get my act together, watch this clip

2008-08-23T04:08:00.001+10:00

Zorba the Greek Yolngu style

Goodnight

2008-07-14T15:21:00.000+10:00

Olive Riley, a fascinating woman.

Is it wrong to bait trolls?

2008-06-27T11:34:00.005+10:00

I don't know, what do you think?

I enjoy it, especially when I'm not emotionally invested in whatever issue the troll is trolling, but I don't know, maybe I should feel bad about that. A little guilty you know. Hmm.

Dean thinks if they line themselves up to be smacked down, then you're off the hook. But what if the troll is just too easy? If you can see that they're out of their depth, is it fair to play with them?

Well, is it?

The winner of this week's You Should Be Ashamed Of Yourself award is...

2008-06-23T00:39:00.003+10:00

Ewin Hannan, for this sparkling piece of gutter journalism at its finest.

Christina has already written a great post about this, and said everything that should have already been evident to the writer of the piece (of shit).

When will this shit end? This blatant demonising of Aboriginal people in Australia? When will the Australian people say enough?

White Australia, where is the outcry against the gross character assassination of these victims in the article? How can you swallow an article which describes seven year old abuse victims as TRYING OUT SEX? Even if they're playing with sex toys, that's not trying out sex, that's acting out ABUSE for crying out loud. Anyone with half a fucking brain knows that.

Just for a minute, try an imagine a little seven year old Aboriginal girl, then imagine her trying out sex. Then imagine it's YOUR daughter when she was seven.

Fucking horrible isn't it? But it seems that's a perfectly acceptable way to characterise a black child in Australia.

Can you smell that? This country is rotting, and journalists like Ewin Hannan are the maggots feeding on the corpse.

Moving people from their land?

2008-06-21T18:52:00.002+10:00

As always when commenting on Aboriginal affairs in the media, I write from my own perspective and observations as a Koori woman. My opinions and thoughts are in no way applicable to every Aboriginal person in Australia, and should not be regarded as such.

http://www.news.com.au/story/0,23599,23897157-421,00.html

So our communities should be assessed for viability, and those classified nonviable shall not receive services (what FUCKING difference is there to the current situation? How many of those communities already HAVE no services, and they're still there? Is the army going to force these people off their land?).

Only those communities classed as viable will receive services, and should be provided with a number of basic resources (ie school, police, health clinic, early childhood, a store).

The welfare income quarantining...50% of all income compulsorily quarantined from all people, regardless of whether they are spending their money appropriately. Hells bells, personally that would RUIN us, and take away our financial independence and freedom. At the moment we are free to be creative and flexible with our budget...and we're okay. If the proposed national roll out of this welfare income quarantining occurs, we'll be fucked. Even if it's linked to school attendance, we're still fucked. Coen wouldn't manage 80% attendance in a pink screaming fit, unless I wheeled him to school in an iron fucking lung, and allowed him to sleep half the day. Just because we ARE Aboriginal, under the roll out we'll have half of our payments quarantined, while our housemates will be entitled to their full payment, just because they're not Aboriginal. Our roles will completely change. I'll go from being the one who has been supporting them financially, emotionally and practically, to the one who has to go cap in hand to them for any thing extra I want.

I'll no longer be able to afford my Austar, my internet connection, my mobile phone. I'll have to give up our animals because I won't be able to afford to feed them. So there goes our chooks and fresh eggs. Goodbye to the kids dogs, who they adore. Goodbye to my cat, who I've had for longer than three of my children.

How on earth will I be able to sock away any money for Coen's medical needs, equipment...his future?

Jeez, we preserve habitats for fucking birds, rodents, frogs etc, but a bunch of blacks? Nah fuck em, negelct them, then ship em' off the land, so that when WE wanna use that area, there's no pesky native problem anyfuckingmore.

The people in this country acted so indignant about the apartheid situation in South Africa, but look what the fuck they are doing in their own backyard.

And for those that support this movement, just one fucking question for you.

How many Aboriginal families will you accept into your street with open arms?

Because our people have been moved around a lot, and we know what to expect. When some of the Block people (Redfern Aboriginal community members) were shipped out of Sydney for the 2000 Olympics, NSW country towns suddenly had all these new Koori families. So the resources in these towns which were already stretched, became even more scarce. The local people who were on waiting lists for housing (waiting time is measured in years, seven at least for non-priority, three for priority) were incredibly put out that out of towners were getting houses in this area, while the locals were still technically homeless.

And as much as the majority would like to believe that we Aboriginals are all one people, interchangeable, the fact is that that is NOT the case. We're all individuals, just like you. Our communities have their own individual identity, unique to the area, and the members who make up that community. We've developed a way of interacting and relating to each other over time, that works with our community and its particular struggles and motivations.

When we do move between communities, there's a way to do it. It's incredibly rare for a blackfella to just walk into a community, without any previous links to it. What's more likely is you'll go in with someone already accepted by that community, and through them is how you'll get entry to it. They'll introduce you around, vouch for you, clue you in to the particular relationships, the expectations, the respected Elders etc. Even the Koori's I know who do or have travelled extensively around Australia will invariably have at least the name of someone to look up, or will have been given an idea of where to go to meet the community they're entering.

In each of the communities I have lived in, there's even been a few people who you could regard as unofficial "greeters". They make it their business to approach the strange blackfella's in town, evaluate them, and make sure they're right.

When Dean moved down here with me when we first met, I took him to work with me one day, and a local guy (one of our unofficial greeters) approached him within ten minutes to find out who this strange blackfella was, and whether anyone had taken him under their wing yet.

See, we have our own protocol for inclusion into and movement between communities. It may appear from the outside to be nonexistent, or very loosely structured at the least, but it's anything but that. If a strange blackfella comes into a community, and doesn't respect the local ways of doing things, they will be excluded in any number of ways, and generally they'll either adapt, return their community, or move on to another community. Now people are going to be shipped into and forced upon communities unwillingly. They won't have the freedom to return to their own community if the new one doesn't fit. They probably won't even be allowed to move on to different ones if they've been placed by the Govt in a particular area. The local blackfella's (not to mention mainstream society) can't help but feel resentful also. It will be a very rocky transition personally and emotionally, AND will require a huge injection of funding for increased services and resources drain in these areas.

Fuck, this country just gets worse and fucking worse. Everything we've achieved in the last 30-40 fucking years is just going down the drain...it's bullshit. Our rights and our achievements are eroding steadily. This fucking white juggernaut of Australian society is taking the fight away from us, and subtly legislating us out of existence.

*sigh*

Intervention creates 'hardship, racism'

2008-06-05T10:37:00.001+10:00

By Tara Ravens

June 04, 2008 02:47pm

Article from: AAP

ABORIGINAL people are suffering hardship and racism because of the federal intervention in the Northern Territory, a senate committee has been told.

Indigenous communities were also reluctant to speak about the impact of the intervention for fear that it could jeopardise funds for infrastructure, housing and health, according to the Darwin Aboriginal Rights Coalition (DARC).
In a submission to the Senate Select Committee (click for more)

Surprise, surprise.

Why Michael Johnson is a champion...

2008-06-04T22:55:00.000+10:00

Liar, Cheat - goodbye to a friend

LAST week, my former teammate, Antonio Pettigrew, testified in the Trevor Graham perjury trial that he had taken HGH (human growth hormone) and EPO (erythropoietin) from 1997 to 2001. I got word of this a few weeks back when the prosecution released the list of witnesses it expected to call and what it expected them to say.

Click to read the article as always.

I am enormously impressed with Michael Johnson's integrity and class in the face of what must be a devastating crushing blow to him. He has lived and breathed this sport night and day.

I understand the commitment required to perform at that level to some degree, as my closest friend is a Paralympian and medalled for Australia in swimming. Our families are very close, and Kelly and I were inseparable from the time she was born practically. Although we lived on opposite sides of the city, Kelly, Pan (her sister), Tom (my brother) and I were as close as brother and sister.

Until Kel retired, all my memories of her just reinforce how much her swimming dominated everything. The slight smell of chlorine in the laundry, because of all the bathing suits soaking in buckets or drying on the clothes horse. The thick rubber tubes attached to the wooden bunk that Kel used to practice her stroke, and gain strength out of the pool. The weights, the extremely healthy regulated food (we got CAROB for Easter...CAROB ffs!!). The early mornings, and the knowledge ingrained in me from as early as I can remember that any interaction or activity I would have with Kel would need to fit around her swimming schedule. The piles and piles of medals, ribbons and trophies that looked to the very imaginative young me just like a treasure cache.

The way my own swimming (already good) couldn't fail to improve steadily thanks to her, to the point where I was consistently easily beating all others in my age group, and two above, in my school district. Including kids who were in clubs and trained regularly. Still, when I was staying with them, and Kel was having a training session (200 laps warm up, many many many laps of different strokes and time tests, and all sorts of stuff, then 200 laps of warm down), I'd jump in next to her, while she was on the last ten laps of her warm down, and no WAY could I keep up with her! Ha ha hah, she was like a fish I swear.

Her family wasn't at all one of those gung ho sports crazy families though, far from it. They were about as balanced and sensible as you can get, but their daughter had a gift, and she was committed to developing it and seeing how far it would take her. They were committed to supporting her, and that's just what happens when your talent is big enough to take you all the way. It demands all of you, and your family and supporters. It makes you pour all your heart and effort and dreams into achieving this very narrow and specific goal.

Your whole life is defined by it, even after you retire. The strict discipline, the regimented lifestyle, the intense focus and the way you throw your entire being into doing what is necessary to achieve is unique. The highs and lows of emotions you experience, the dedication you must have. It makes the athlete who they are, and colours their entire life. And if you have achieved at the level that Michael Johnson and Kelly did, poured all of yourself into achieving something on your own merits, something that validated all those years and years of sacrifice to the gym and the track or the endless black line on the bottom of the pool, imagine what it must be like to have that achievement snatched away from you because of the selfish actions of another. It would be absolutely gutting.

I admire Michael Johnson's strength and the display of integrity he has shown in this situation. It's not so much the fact that he is returning the medal (which would most likely have been taken anyway), it's what he has said that I admire. He has shown me that for some, the true spirit of competition still exists. I wish I could tell him that for the first time in years, my cynicism has lessened rather than increased. Big achievement!

Poor Sam Newman is sadly misunderstood...

2008-06-01T17:51:00.002+10:00

Oh yes he is, the poor dear*.

It never fails to amuse me when the celebrity "larrikins" or shock jocks come a cropper. These men and women, who make a living out of disregarding other people's feelings in the pursuit of ratings and the almighty dollar, invariably make a mistake along the way...they hurt the wrong person, or group of people, and then the backlash comes.

Like for Sam now with his latest...what is it? A naked mannequin stunt or something. His behaviour, his attitude, his idea of "humor", but most of all his complete disregard for the people who butter his bread while he sucks up the arse of the boys club. Of course, I don't blame him. If I was a talentless hack, I'd surround myself with trogs and yesmen to prop up my gigantic ego too. I mean, it must be lovely to be surrounded by people who constantly validate you, your actions, and your humor in the face of overwhelming condemnation. I would LOVE IT if every time I fucked up, I had an Eddie McGuire to tell me it wasn't my fault, it was the way everyone else perceived it, shame on them for being so dense and misunderstanding my comedic genius.

But really I'm glad I don't have a yes man to do that. Because if I did, it'd be my family, my friends, those that love me and care about me who would be hurt, not me. Those that know a different side of me, not the arrogant arsehole who pushes people's buttons, not for any productive or significant reason, but just for shits and giggles.

And if that happened, then my family and friends would naturally come out in my defence, and end up looking as stupid, as ignorant, and as supremely fatuous and laughably moronic as John "Sam" Noel Newman's family and friends do right now. Really, if you're going to be a cunt like he is, then when your cuntishness reaps the obvious dividends of a backlash, tell your fucking family to suck it up, because you've brought this upon them.

And please, Jack Newman, seriously, do you not see the irony? You're asking people to care about Sam, to care about you, and your family, while in the very same breath you're telling us that Sam wouldn't do the same for us. Quote: "...Dad doesn't care what people think of him, he only cares what his family and friends think."

Bull fucking shit. You dickhead. A celebrity that doesn't care what people think of him? HA ha hahahhahahahahahahahahahahhahha. Obviously in terms of intelligence at least, it looks to me like the Jack apple didn't fall very fucking far from the Sam tree.

Just a tip...if you enjoy baiting people SO FUCKING MUCH that you will work at it gleefully for this amount of time, then you very much DO care what people think of you. You're just peverse about it, and get off on people disliking you (though you ingeniously claim to be bemused if they take you seriously, cos that gets you off the hook). What you don't understand, or rather, do understand but just don't give a fuck about, is the fact that while it may serve some purpose for you, all your loved ones get out of it is a lifetime of having their father, husband, ex etc persecuted, and in their eyes UNFAIRLY.

And you know, if I was a total arsehole, I wouldn't care about that. I'd think "Too bad, so sad, sucks to be you, that's what you get for supporting and propping up a fuckwad like Sam." Half of me really wants to just go with this feeling, yeah, fuck em, they not only deserve it, but they've accepted it along with all the benefits that have come with Sam Newman's notoriety...and the other half of me says "No, they're people too, they really care about him and this is hurting them, NOT him, that's not fair."

But that voice is getting quieter and quieter, as I become more and more cynical, and more disappointed with the masses, and certain very powerful individuals who recklessly abuse that power. Time for me to go play with some kittehs.

* By way of apology for forgetting to include the links (thanks E), I've included this added bonus, an article by Australia's biggest fuckwit.

I am busy...

2008-06-01T05:11:00.001+10:00

dealing with internet providers, trying to upgrade from shitty dial up. Will be back shortly.

In the meantime, I'll recover from J1's 12th birthday party sleepover. With 12 friends. Not as bad as it sounds actually, it was very successful, and really good fun.

love yas

My brain pattern

2008-05-12T05:42:00.001+10:00

Your Brain's Pattern

Your mind is a creative hotbed of artistic talent.

You're always making pictures in your mind, especially when you're bored.

You are easily inspired to think colorful, interesting thoughts.

And although it may be hard to express these thoughts, it won't always be.

What Pattern Is Your Brain?

Another Meme

2008-05-09T01:28:00.001+10:00

From Christina this time.

Here are the rules
A) The rules of the game get posted at the beginning.
B) Each player answers the questions about himself or herself.
C)
At the end of the post, the player then tags five people and posts
their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment,
letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

1.
Ten years ago I was: living in Melbourne, only had one child, was working at a job I really enjoyed (although the stress was killing me). I was LOVING life, felt really good about my parenting, and pretty much everything seemed to be going along nicely. Within nine months I'd buried my second child, who died at birth.

2. Five things on today's to do list:
Pay bills
do grocery shopping
register new sim card
get sata card for dean
throw obligatory tantrum when things don't go exactly my wy

3. Things I'd do if I were a billionaire:
Wipe family debts
Buy a large property in an area that's NOT totally drought struck
Build houses for all family members that want to live with me on my mission
Chuck out all my shitty stuff and buy new things
Get horses for the kids

4. Three bad habits:
Losing my temper
Being unable to FIND my temper again
Flying off the handle and freaking out (in frothing at the mouth, red faced, foot stomping, aggrieved dictator fashion)

5. Five places I've lived:
Beijing, China (for a month)
Paris, France (for three months)
Nowra, NSW, Australia
Melbourne, Vic, Australia
Muckleford, Vic, Australia

6. Six jobs I've had in my life:
Legal clerk
Administration Assistant
Aboriginal Child Care Worker
Centrelink Case Manager (Indigenous)
Aboriginal Women's Health Worker (papscreen, breastscreen, alternative birthing, 0-5)

Alright, an interesting meme.

2008-05-04T03:02:00.001+10:00

Picked up from Sir Robin.

1. Pick up the nearest book of 123 pages or more. No cheating!
2. Find page 123.
3. Find the first five sentences.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

I shall see if anyone can guess the name of the book.

...He leaned with his face looking at the floor; laid a finger to close one nostril then blew hard. A mass of mucus shot from the other landing with a splat on the dirt floor.

Darkess narrowed her eyes in disgust and tightened from the hatred she bore for him.

Hmm, who shall I tag...well Elayne, Christina, Gine and Ranuel are a given, but who else?

Okay, will the next random reader who sees this, pretty please post a comment to let me know, and be my fifth person??

Thanks.

Did I mention how much I love...

2008-05-03T01:06:00.001+10:00

Kevin Rudd for his wonderful Sorry speech (text link)? It's hard to describe what this means to me as an Aboriginal woman. I have heard many detractors speak disdainfully of symbolism, and question what real good this achieved. To them, I have to say I have no answer. None that you will be able to understand in any case. I don't have the words to describe to you a lifetime of knowing you are a second class citizen in your own land, I can't give you the memories we have, which you would need in order to understand what the Sorry speech means to me, as an individual and us as a people.

If you have a long time, and a real interest in wanting to know as much as you can, I suppose the Bringing Them Home report is a good start. Like I said though...you're going to need a long time. And tissues if you read it with compassion and empathy for the people involved.

I can say this though personally for myself. Before the Sorry, I was fully supportive of it, not for me but for those of my people whom the Stolen Generation directly affected. I have no experience of it in my family, my Aboriginal grandfather was a very highly respected man of the church, and part owner of a sawmill, so my father and his siblings were relatively safe from that dark period of history. I didn't expect the Sorry to have any real impact upon me at all, apart from relief and thankfulness along with gratitude to whichever politician had the guts to do it.

But you know, I was totally wrong. When I watched the speech, I was completely overwhelmed and unprepared for the intense feelings that I experienced (and had absolutely no control over too, mind you). I literally couldn't breathe, my throat was so tight with emotion, and my heart was thumping near out of my chest. It was as if those first words opened a door, and revealed this monster in my closet that I had been pretending didn't exist.

And as I listened, every beautiful, eloquent, heartfelt word he spoke was like a light shining into every corner of that closet, revealing the monster for what it was, and disarming it...cleansing it from me in a way. My cod, I don't mean to be so glurgy, but...I don't know...like I said, I don't have the words! And I'm making it all about myself, when really what I want to say is...

if it was so incredibly significant to me, on an emotional and psychological level, how much more magnified would it be for someone who truly DID experience the horror and terror of that legislation that led to the Stolen Gen in action?

And there are SO MANY. Still alive today. Don't believe this shit that it happened years in the past...fucking hell, the legislation was only repealed within MY lifetime, and I'm only 32. I have many friends, not to mention in-laws, who were taken, or had to run out the back door and hide while the welfare cars made their way up the track. These people, whom so many Australians like to pretend don't exist, or deserved to be taken from "unfit" parents (myth, they just had to have an Aboriginal parent), are everywhere.

*sigh* I don't really know how to end this post, because there's really a lot more I feel like saying, but this time I really REALLY don't have the words. I can say though, that for me, Kevin's speech gave me back a hope that I'd given up on ever feeling again. You know when you're a kid, and you fiercely believe that if you want something bad enough, and you work hard enough, you can get it. Well I don't know what it's like for others, but for this little blackfella, when I grew up and realised that that just isn't the case, no matter how hard you try you're just not on the same playing field...something in me just kinda went hard and cold and...I won't say gave up, but it became bloody pessimistic, put it that way!

Now it's all different, and a wonderful new different. A world which I feel immeasurably happier about raising my children in. That's just for me, I can bet that many many other blackfella's feel the same way. We are looking forward to a future where we feel like finally there may just be a glimmer of a light at the end of the tunnel, rather than the featureless black gloom we gazed at before. From such a little thing like Sorry, such big things grow! This song says it just right for me. Watch it, listen to it, and if you've got a spare couple of bucks (from memory $1.69AU when I downloaded it), you might want to buy it.

The Tom Lehrer YouTube Video Movement...take 2 (thanks C)

2008-04-20T16:17:00.002+10:00

Thanks to Jen, via Christina.

Aren't you all lucky, here's another post.

2008-04-16T12:49:00.003+10:00

Yes, I know this is unprecedented in the history of this blog, but for some reason I am in the mood for sharing some of things which are important to me in a political sense. I have a habit of being reticent about certain issues which may be close to my heart, until I have been provoked into anger, which isn't really the best approach. So, I'm going to make a huge effort to be a bit braver in putting my thoughts out there to BE challenged or discussed, rather than keeping them held close to my chest to protect myself.

So, in keeping with that, here's a few links if you're in the mood for something new.

Gary Foley on The Power of Whiteness.

Gary's site is linked on my blog roll (The Koori History Website). He (amongst others) has been influential in my political and social justice development, and was one of the co-founders of the Tent Embassy in 1972, which my father (scroll to bottom, Ambrose Golden-Brown) was also active in (and my mother to a lesser extent as a non-indigenous supporter).

Short video on current Tent Embassy and Sandon Point Embassy. Regarding the Sandon Point issue, this is close to home and I have *issues* with Stockland's movements there as well as Wollongong.

Ok, that's enough for today (maybe), there's probably only four or five people who will read this anyway, heh, but nebbermine, tis all good.

Isn't this incredible, two posts in one day!

2008-04-16T12:25:00.002+10:00

If you are at all interested in what it is like to be an Indigenous (Aboriginal Australian) female human rights activist, read this by Jackie Huggins.

How Indigenous Women can take on a greater leadership role.

Great article.

What is wrong with this picture?

2008-04-16T11:26:00.004+10:00

In a discussion I was having on another blog, someone claimed that Afghanistan was not a feminist disaster.

Really? (Seriously, read this article if you have read the comments at the blog above, it explains everything I was so clumsily trying to express.)

Womankind claims just the opposite in their latest report; seven years after "liberation" by western forces, the state of affairs is just the same for most, worse for others.

None so blind as those who WILL. NOT. see, unna.*

(*cross cultural lesson #4375: unna is a word used by many NSW and Victorian Koories to invite agreement and consensus. It roughly translates as any of the following; "Isn't it?" "Aren't they?" "Don't you agree?" among others.)

My poor baby has a broken nose.

2008-04-11T17:19:00.002+10:00

D rang me on Wednesday while he and the kids were at school. He asks me for my Medicare number, then casually mentions that he needs it to get J1 an x-ray. Turns out one of her friends accidentally hit her in the race with the edge of a racket while lobbing a ball to her from two feet away. She has a crack right across the bridge, and a nice little graze. No black eyes, minimal swelling and very little complaints (only when someone accidentally bumps it).

My poor baby!

Koori Night Market

2008-03-13T17:52:00.002+11:00

Just a quick post...I find when I make a long post I tend to neglect the blog for a while. So...quick post.

Did the first ever Koorie Night Market last night. Was a brilliant night.

What book are you?

2008-01-31T18:42:00.000+11:00

You're One Hundred Years of Solitude!

by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Lonely and struggling, you've been around for a very long time.
Conflict has filled most of your life and torn apart nearly everyone you know. Yet there
is something majestic and even epic about your presence in the world. You love life all
the more for having seen its decimation. After all, it takes a village.

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Lets see if I get any stars

2007-08-19T02:34:00.000+10:00

Create your own visitor map!

Something random

2007-08-12T02:26:00.001+10:00

My Liberal Identity:

You are a Reality-Based Intellectualist, also known as the liberal elite. You are a proud member of what’s known as the reality-based community, where science, reason, and non-Jesus-based thought reign supreme.

Take the quiz at www.FightConservatives.com

Movie Compatibility Test

2007-08-09T01:17:00.001+10:00


	My Flixster

Just about all caught up on Lost.

2007-02-07T03:19:00.000+11:00

I've been watching Lost on dvd lately so I can catch up before Season 3 is screened over here, and I love it.

Plus it's given me a new entry for my "list" (that's the list of celebs I'm allowed to be norty with).

So congratulations to Josh Holloway (Sawyer), it may have taken you a while, but you got there in the end. I believe you should give thanks to that fever you developed when you got shot by the Others. Woot woot and all that.

Trin needs sleep.

I haven't blogged about the Mulrunji decision...

2006-12-21T03:58:00.000+11:00

...and I'm not going to. It makes me too angry, too devastated...I can't formulate my thoughts properly. Except to say I don't know why I'm reacting to it so strongly, when I ALWAYS expected it to turn out this way. Quite honestly, as soon as I had read about the case, when it first happened, I KNEW, just knew that there was no way on earth that this police officer would be held accountable.

I talked about it way back in September when the coroner first ruled that the police officer involved was responsible for Mulrunji's killing. This is just so completely wrong. I used to say that Australia has a black heart, referring to my people...now it's heart is just dead.

C turned seven on Sunday

2006-12-13T00:33:00.000+11:00

Blowing out the candles.

It's my birthday today (Wednesday), 31 today, 31 today!

Kittens!

2006-12-12T22:46:00.000+11:00

Hello world, I have no tail, just a bump.

See my cute short tail? HEY, what are my siblings doing down there? I'm gonna pounce on them.

ARRRGH! CAMERAS!! Where's our appearance fee? Where's our black siblings? WHERE'S OUR MUM?? SQUAAAAWWWK!

Half and hour of fun and games

2006-12-12T21:13:00.000+11:00

Ex BFF's greyhound Kiwi was let off the chain by one of the children (no-one's owned up yet). He's an ex racing greyhound so he's very quick plus he's trained to chase things. Greyhounds can also see quite well over long distances. Not a good combination in the bush where there's plenty of rabbits - the traditional lure for greyhounds.

So he went charging around the property chased by nine screaming kids and three yelling adults (D, Ex BFF and Mum). Saw my cat's run and decided it would be delightful indeed to run around it in circles, scaring the pee pee out of the poor cats.

At the time it was just bloody aggravating, but looking back on it, it was quite funny to see them all chasing Kiwi round and round.

Finally he took off from the run, as Ex BFF had just about caught him twice. Raced around to the front of the house (where it was quiet and peaceful) to where I was crouched on the ground, arms open wide, calling the damn fool of a mutt. He spotted me and thought "YAY!! HUGS!!" so barrelled towards me at top speed, allowing me to grab his collar.

Then as I walked him back towards his chain, I accidently (yes it was an accident) walked too close to Smokey (my cattle dog). They're both entire males, so Smokey took this golden opportunity to fly forward and bite him on the arse. Kiwi is about four times the size of Smokey, but he's a bit of a woosy coward, so he needed lots and lots of encouragement to continue walking past the big mean scary doggy.

Once Kiwi was back on his chain, I had to go down to the cat run and reassure the poor felines that the huge hell hound wasn't going to come back and eat them all up. Poor things. Tiger and Bear had climbed the walls and were in the rafters with a look of pure absolute terror in their eyes, while Keke (whose usually the most timid one) had just hidden himself in the middle of the tunnel. You could practically see him sniggering at the other two.

So, the cats are sorted out and reassured that it's safe to come back to earth. Next Mum needs a car battery moved from outside the house to somewhere safe out of reach of the children. So of course I pick it up and start to carry it to the car. Once I get to the car, I have to put the battery down for a moment while mum unlocks the boot. Of course, when I pick it back up again, it tips just enough for the acid to spurt out of the top and splash all over my hands. In the time it takes me to put the battery back down and run inside to wash my hands, the acid starts to BURN LIKE BURNY BURN THINGS!

But I'm okay now. Kitten photos coming up next.

YAY!!

2006-12-01T22:18:00.000+11:00

I was just announced an equal first place winner in a story writing contest for a cool little game I play on the computer (Virtual Villagers)!! The prize is that the names of the hero and heroine in my story (Bindi and Coen) will be used as character names in the sequel to the game, which is due out just before Christmas.

So naturally I'll be downloading it as soon as it's released.

Here's the story reproduced...

Bindi Coen, the star crossed lovers.

After
the birth of the Golden Child, there came a time of wondrous peace and
prosperity to Isola. For the first time in generations, there was no
struggle, no conflict for the villagers. Life was perfect and beautiful
for a time.

But the people grew bored with perfection. With no
troubles or conflict to unite them, no struggle to occupy their senses,
they began to turn against each other, in small but significant ways.
Life was no longer beautiful in Isola.

The Golden Child had
never aged, so not only was he not even aware of the adults fighting,
he was more interested in partying and playing games anyway, and
wouldn't have been much help.

One day after many years of grief,
two girls were born into this hateful atmosphere. Two girls who were
rivals all their lives, from the very day they were born. Lowana and
Jirra despised each other from the outset. They caused their families
to turn against each other, eventually dividing the village into two
separate camps, constantly fighting and bickering.

They
competed for every thing, including who would become a mother first. As
it was, they birthed on the same day, at the same time exactly. Lowana
gave birth to a handsome, brave and sturdy son she named Coen
(Supernatural being who sounds like thunder), while Jirra was blessed
with a delicately pretty, brilliant little girl she named Bindi (Little
girl). Then they fought over whose was the most beautiful, more
accomplished child.

The women's competitiveness and fighting
grew more intense, more vicious until the tribe was in complete
disarray. All that consumed their minds was proving their superiority
over their rival. In all the turmoil, no one noticed the children as
anything other than tools in their struggle for supremacy. Bindi and
Coen were left more and more to their own devices. Both neglected by
their families, it was only natural that they turned to one another.

They
knew they had to keep their friendship a secret from their families,
and while they were young it was easy. All the children played together
in a group, so none of the adults noticed that Bindi Lee and Coen were
inseparable. As they grew older, and the other children found their own
individuality however, the adults became suspicious.

By this
time, the split in the village was irreparable. Both sides blamed the
other for the problems, and due to the bickering, fighting and tattling
between Lowana and Jirra, the two factions focused their rage on the
children. Even the elders of the village, who could still remember the
golden age of Isola, were manipulated into taking sides. The poisonous
atmosphere was so bad that once the adults discovered that the children
were friends, they outlawed them from seeing each other.

Bindi
and Coen were heartbroken. They had fallen in love over the years, a
pure and gentle love untouched by the adult's problems. But now the
days were gone when they could swim and play together happily,
forgetting all the fighting for just a little while. Even their former
playmates turned against them and chose their sides. Life was awful.

The
children, now teenagers became depressed and lethargic. They naturally
drifted to the fringes of the villages; seeing as they couldn't spend
time with each other, they didn't want to spend time with anyone.
Things were so bad the teens became recluses, spending all their time
avoiding contact with anyone.

One day as Bindi sat despondently
under a palm tree, eyes half closed to disguise the fact that she
watching Coen (as was her habit), she noticed him slipping inside the
Great Cave. It had been opened many years previously, in the early days
of the golden age. The Golden Child had moved the massive boulder
covering the cave's entrance one day, and the villagers had explored
its mysteries, wondering at the berries inside and the other obvious
evidence of habitation.

With all the celebrations and new
prosperity though, they soon lost interest in the dark and poky cave.
The beaches, lagoon and flower orchards were much more tempting than a
fairly spooky and cold cavern. It was soon abandoned and gathered
nothing but dust and cobwebs over time. Now it seemed that Coen had
chosen it as his special retreat.

Bindi watched him quietly for
days through lidded eyes. He seemed happier and more purposeful than
he'd been in a long time. His step was faster, his eyes brighter, and
he finally began to put on the weight he'd lost when they were first
separated. Bindi heart swelled with happiness for him, even though she
was still desperately sad, her love for him was so great that just to
see him looking happier filled her with a bittersweet joy.

Seeing
Coen happy made Bindi stronger too. She was no longer content to let
the days go by, lost in a haze of depression and obedience to her
elders. Rebellion eventually took the place of her sadness, and she
decided to defy the rule not to see Coen. One day she came to a
decision; she would gather a little food and disappear into the cave
forever! Only Coen went into the cave, she figured, so if she hid
herself in there, she would be free to see him as much as she liked.

The
next morning she woke up before dawn and put her plan into action.
Before the depression had overcome her, she was a skilled farmer and
fisherperson, so she was able to quickly and silently gather berries
and seafood that would not be missed by the others. Filling a small
woven basket with her goods, she slipped through the village in the pre
dawn light and quietly entered the cave. She was filled with excitement
as she entered. What would Coen think of her bold plan? Would he help
her, bring her food and keep her company? Or had he truly moved on with
his life?

Bindi didn't know, but she was prepared to risk
everything to find out. She could no longer live without sharing her
life with Coen. If he rejected her, she didn't want to go on.

It
was very cool in the cave, although the temperature outside was already
warm before the sun rose. Bindi had edged her way to the very back of
the cave, and couldn't see a thing in front of her. Not being terribly
fond of spiders she was glad she'd thought to slip a firestick into her
leather dilly bag.

She peeled some fibres from a coconut husk
in her food basket. Cracking open a crab, she cleaned the top shell
with her teeth and filled it with the coconut fibres. Unwrapping the
banana leaf from her firestick, she placed it in the middle of the
fibres, and blew gently to make the embers on one end of the firestick
glow. The fibres slowly caught alight, and by that weak light, she
could see well enough to gather dried leaves and sticks from the floor
and feed it. Soon she had a merry little fire blazing away in the crab
shell.

All the excitement had made her hungry, so she cooked the
crab meat for her breakfast. She was so preoccupied with this task that
she didn't even notice Coen quietly entering the cave. He was stunned
and delighted to see the vision before him.

Many times Coen had
dreamed of creeping into Bindi's hut and stealing her away to the cave
forever. He worried though, that she had forgotten about him, didn't
love him anymore. Now to see her here before him was like that dream
come true. He folded his trembling legs under him and sat down to gaze
at her with wonder.

As he watched, he noticed something strange.
The smoke from her fire...he hadn't smelt it when he walked to his
cave, and he couldn't smell it now. Puzzled, he looked from Bindi to
the fire, and that's when he became aware of something very peculiar.
Bindi's smoke was not filling the cave and creeping out the entrance as
it should, in fact it was being sucked out through a large crevice low
down on the wall in the back of the cave. It was very odd, but in his
delight at seeing Bindi, he pushed the thought to the back of her mind.

After he had drunk his fill of watching her, he spoke,

"My love, I hope there's enough there for me too!"

Bindi
gasped and spun around. Her eyes filled with tears and she rushed to
Coen, flinging herself at him and nearly crushing him with her hug. She
couldn't believe it, here he was, and joy of joys, he had called her
"my love". Bindi felt her heart swell fit to burst.

The next few
hours were spent talking, laughing and loving. They fed each other the
crabmeat with their hands, just for an excuse to touch each other. They
talked so quickly they could barely understand the other, except for
the fact that they already knew what was in the others heart. It was
wonderful and began to heal their hearts, wounded from the long months
of separation.

Finally they were quiet. Coen lay with his back
against the cave walls and held Bindi against his chest. He stroked her
hair with one hand and leaned back to sleep with his loved one in his
arms. Just as he was about to fall asleep however, he remembered the
strange smoke. As much as he tried to put it out of his mind and rest,
it nagged at him until he could stand it no longer. Being a trained
scientist and skilled healer, he knew the smoke was acting in a way it
shouldn't be able to.

"Bindi," he whispered, "Are you awake?"

"Mmm...hmmm," she mumbled into his chest, and tightened her arms around him.

"My love, I need to get up, just for a minute I promise..."

"Ohhh," sighed Bindi, and stretched all over, "What is it honey?"

Quickly
Coen explained to her the phenomenon he'd noticed. Bindi immediately
sat up. She didn't really understand what was happening, but she knew
by the tingle of excitement in her stomach that something truly
significant was about to happen. Ever since she was a little girl she'd
experience this strange tingle just before something wonderful
happened, so she'd learnt to trust her instincts.

Together the
young lovers began to examine the crevice. As they got closer, they
realised that the air was being sucked into the crack. It must lead
somewhere, but where?

They tapped the rock, but it was as solid
as could be. Then Bindi realised that the crack went right to the floor
of the cave, and widened down the bottom. Because of her construction
ability, she instantly she realised that if they dug down a little,
scraping away the years of built up silt and debris, they may be able
to squeeze through the crack on their hands and knees.

Excitedly,
they began to dig with their hands. Within a short time, they had
shifted a great deal of dirt, and the crevice was fully revealed. Bindi
was right! It would be a tight squeeze, but they could do it! Being the
smallest of the two, Bindi wriggled her way into the crevice first,
with Coen following closely behind.

They crawled through the
dark tunnel, brushing through cobwebs, until eventually they saw a
light up ahead! The tunnel gradually widened again, until it became
large enough for them to stand up again, forming a new cave looking out
on a beautiful fertile plain. Filled with excitement, Coen and Bindi,
the two soul mates, finally emerged from the darknes together. Hand in
hand, with their hearts in their mouth, they stepped out of the cave
and into their future...

On second thoughts...

2006-11-27T01:26:00.000+11:00

I'm glad I'm a nobody who lives out in the middle of nowhere like a big recluse. Because to be honest, I bloody well can't stand the majority of people on this earth. Maybe I'm just a big freaking snob, but CRIKEY there's a lot of annoyingly opinionated, ignorant people out there.

It's really scary how many there seem to be.

Okay, here's a serious question...Is it just that there's really not that many, it only seems that way because they just all flock to the internet in droves, or is it that they're actually EVERYWHERE, they're just better at hiding it in real life?

It makes me feel very lonely...like I'm the weirdo and the odd one out for believing that racism is wrong, violence is wrong, hatred is wrong. So many people pay lip service to those concepts, then in the next breath they go ahead and vilify someone else for being different.

I suppose I'm no different myself...I'm talking about how I can't tolerate people who are intolerant. Ah well...c'est la vie. I'm just as bad as they are. *le sigh*

Is it so bad of me? (bit of a sooky whinge ahead)

2006-11-26T03:04:00.000+11:00

To be so unsatisfied with my life? I always wanted...no scratch that...I EXPECTED to make a huge mark upon the world, to be the best of the best in some field...but I never got around to finding out what exactly I was supposed to be the best of the best in.

Now it's just way too late to do anything other than being a mum...which ISN'T a bad thing...it's just that I'm in this role not because I chose to be, but by default. I wasn't doing anything else in particular, so being a mum is all it boils down to.

I'm not dissatisfied with my children at all at all, they are wonderful...no one could have such brilliant children as I do. I'm not at all dissatisfied with my partner either, I love him as much today as I did when we first fell in love over ten years ago.

It's just that...I don't know...

Where's the grand romance? Where's the pure sparkling knowledge that I'm doing something truly worthwhile, something to get up for in the morning? Something that makes me unique and special?

Because I'm so NOT. A million other people are just as good parents as I feel I am, and a million more are BETTER parents.

I have no motivation, no joy, no relish for my life anymore...and I don't think I was meant to be like this. As a child, and a teenager, I was secure in the knowledge that there was something great inside me...something that was driving me. I was going to be something...someONE.

Where did it all go? How does one get it back? I'm tired of just being me, just living every day exactly the same as the last. I want to have a fire in my belly again, for more than just a clean house and all the chores done. Failing this, I want to be happy and content with where I am.

Gaaak! I'm making myself sick with this self serving melodrama. Gotta go.

My submission regarding the Burrup Peninsula development.

2006-11-24T02:01:00.000+11:00

Read about Burrup here.

Please don't destroy our cultural heritage. Too much of Aboriginal Australia is lost forever...the wholesale, deliberate and unnecessary destruction of the Burrup Peninsula's rock art would be an unforgivable act of cultural genocide. It would be an irredeemable act of contempt for reconciliation between Aboriginal and mainstream Australia.

Anyone involved in the decision to write off these precious and irreplacable artworks (and they are much more than just art) must accept that they are in effect telling Aboriginal Australia that it has no place within mainstream society and is not worthy of consideration. It is tantamount to a declaration of war upon the historical and cultural inheritance from our ancestors.

If something was found under St Paul's Cathedral in Melbourne, would anyone even entertain the idea of destroying the cathedral to get at the resource it stood above? Of course not, yet it seems that no one thinks twice about destroying our equally significant spiritual and historical sites for greed and money.

The Burrup Peninsula needs to be recognised nationally and respected for being a unique and irreplacable wonder of this land. It's riches (and by this I mean it's cultural and environmental significance) needs to be recorded and studied, understood and respected, through consultation and partnership with the local Aboriginal people...then preserved and valued by all Australians. It could be a valuable teaching resource and a brilliant drawcard for Western Australia, yet it's future now seems to be one of destruction by industry. Truly...progress at any cost. But is it really progress?

It is 2006 and yet Australia is still shamefully destroying artefacts from one of the oldest surviving cultures on earth. Soon all that Aboriginal Australia will have left to remember is the names of those who are our enemy...those who participate willingly in the wholesale rape, destruction and consumption of our Mother Earth's gifts for her people. This should not be allowed to go unanswered.

Extreme stress higher for indigenous

2006-11-22T18:34:00.000+11:00

November 22, 2006 03:44pm

Article from: AAP

LEVELS of extreme stress are four times higher in Aboriginal families compared with other households as they struggle against compounding lifestyle problems, a report has found.

New results from the biggest study of Australia's indigenous communities show the average Aboriginal family is confronted with seven major negative events every year.

click for full article

Oh, like FLUCK.

2006-11-11T12:11:00.000+11:00

Read this article if you've got time.

Now excuse me...but LIKE FLUCK did the ice make him do this...he was a twisted little fucker in the first place. I can accept that ice caused his psychosis and contributed to his mental illness...but REALLY now, he was in enough control of himself to hide his twisted desire to PORK RABBITS for flucks sake (I mean, was he ever caught doing them inside a pet shop? NOOOOO so obviously he had some choice in the matter).

Did you notice about half way down the article, he mentions that he's married now, drug free, and has a family DOG??? In the first place, who on earth is desperate to marry someone who was screwing rabbits only LAST YEAR? Second of all, why in the blue blazes has this guy got access to a dog? For that matter, why is he walking around in society so soon at all?

Bluddy hell, unbluddybelievable.

Belinda Emmett

2006-11-11T12:01:00.000+11:00

Belinda Emmett passed away today. I'm really sad about this, she's battled cancer for so long. She had such a beautiful relationship with her husband, Rove McManus.

I feel so bad for her family, friends, loved ones and fans. *Sigh*

My laptop is dyyyyyyyiiiing!

2006-11-11T11:42:00.000+11:00

The power cord has just died in the arse, so until I've bought myself a new one, I might not be online very much. At the moment I've got 1 hr and 26 minutes of battery power left, then after that I'll have to get up and use the desktop computer. Buuuuut....that would involve me (a) getting out of bed and (b) spending a few days fixing it up (Dean and the kids keep installing and deleting stuff without defragging or doing virus checks).

Just thought I'd let you know.

In other news, C (my best mate B's hubby) has been moved up here to Loddon Prison, so B drove up last night with their five kids. They'll be living here for the next 12/13 months until C is released, and probably for a good while after that.

Got a bit of back pay (finally) from Centredick (welfare social security), spent a bit of it on a cheap caravan (26 foot) which I'm going to fix up. It's good enough to sleep in at the moment, so Dean and I might move out there with the boorais.

I've found someone to lease Beau for a while. They live in Elphinstone and have a bit more grass than we do so I'm happy.

Okay...gotta go, I'm hungry (like that's something new).

I think I'm gunna CRY (and that would just worsen the salinity problem...heh)

2006-11-09T00:11:00.000+11:00

Hay has gone from $50-80 a roll up to $160 MINIMUM!!(and just for good measure)!!!!!!

The chaff I buy has risen by $8-10 a bag too.

The quality of the feed has absolutely gone through the FLOOR too. This drought is going to send a lot of people to the wall unfortunately. We (Australians) have to change the way we use the land or this crisis is just going to get worse. And we have to do it with an eye on the future...not just plan to drain the wetlands and stop environmental flows to our most important river system (unbelievable...how is THAT going to help? No really, HOW?).

Central Victoria is turning into a dust bowl, just like other vast areas of Australia. :(

For the sake of a nail...or a decent fence at least.

2006-11-06T05:00:00.000+11:00

My horse is giving me the shits today (still love him though).

When I got him a year ago, he had a phobia about wire, the type you use in fencing. I'm assuming it was due to an injury, because he's got some wicked looking scars on his legs, the kind you'd get from being tangled in fences. While I was still able to ride him, we were cross-countrying one day and came across a very old wire fence laying on the ground (rusted up to blend in). As soon as Beau realised he was walking across fallen wire, he froze and started snorting and carrying on. So I had to dismount and carefully remove the wire from under his hoofs. He was sweating and shaking and carrying on, poor luv. I had to let go of his reins to use both hands on the wire, and the bluddy fool took off like a bat out of hell once I'd released him from the wire. Had no chance of catching him so I had to track the shithead over a few k's and eventually ran him down to ground at a neighbors house. For ages after this he was still real toey about wire and fences and even thin rope. My guess is he was flogged as well by a previous owner, because if you walked past him with rope he'd just pack death (translation: be very scared).

So, I've been really really careful with him, not putting him in any situations that are too stressful for him, but at the same time I've tried hard to gradually desensitise him to safe wire (ie; wire that is part of a solid fence) and ropes. I didn't really hold out much hope, because he's old as Methuselah, and once a horse has developed a bad phobia it's really hard to re-educate him.

Now though, I kind of wish I'd never bothered because I think I've done too good a job.

He learnt the other day that I keep the rabbit feed and the dog biscuits outside the front door inside two different plastic rubbish bins (too smart for my own good he is). Since then, he's been pacing the fence around the house (slightly more than waist high chicken wire) looking for a way in, because I rejigged the gate so he can't open it with his mouth (see what I mean about too smart?). Being a greedy and fairly lazy ol' sod who'd rather stand around chewing than go and graze in the paddocks, he wanted a free feed of dog biscuits and rabbit food. He'd had his share of hard feed for the day, and didn't feel like walking all the way down the paddock for his hay, so he's spent all of today trying to get in the yard.

Well at some stage today, the cheeky boy decided that wire wasn't that bad after all, so he broke down the fence! Dean hunted him out of the yard three times before he thought to go around the perimeter and find where he was getting in. Actually, that's a lie, it was really ME that decided to go around the perimeter, I just dragged Dean with me.

Anyway, we found where he'd broken through, right next to the water tank, and spent about twenty minutes fixing the fence. Job well done, or so I thought.

About half an hour later, I'm in the bath, reading naturally, when I hear Beau's bloody hoofsteps right outside my window. The bugger had broken through AGAIN. In the SAME SPOT! So I got Dean to hunt him back out and fix the fence again.

By now it was dark okay.

This fix job must have been a better one, because it wasn't 3am this morning that I was wakened by the dogs going ballistic (barking at Beau naturally) because he'd broken through the SAME BLOODY SPOT yet a BLOODY gain.

This time I went outside, yelled at him (with good results, he packed death and ran away until he realised it was me, then he laughed at me, or at least it sounded like a laugh), took him by the halter and made him get out of the yard again.

Then (in the pitch dark remember) I had to go and find a fresh bit of chicken wire. My torch's battery is on the way out, so I only had a really feeble, yellow light to see by (no moon tonight). The only bit of chicken wire that was small enough for me to pick up by myself was actually pretty huge (bit wider than a king size mattress and a fair bit longer). Had to drag that (in my pyjamas) across the yard to the hole in the fence and put it up all by my little lonesome.

The whole way through this task, I was panicking that a sharp edge piece was going to fling up and scratch my eye out. Luckily it didn't, it just chose to scratch the living shit outta my arms, hands and ankles. I spose it's my own damn fault for being too cranky and impatient to put on gloves and proper work overalls, but I'll live. Bloody horse.

If he gets in again, I'm gonna have to take him all the way up to the top paddock (where there's a dam) and shut him in. Too bloody tired though, I wanna go back to sleep.

Actually, thinking about these wire scratches, I hope my tetanus booster is up to date. Specially seeing as I was REALLY stupid the other day and ran out to the horse box barefoot to open the feed bin and stepped on a rusty drawing pin (don't know where it came from). That was dumb (but I don't like wearing shoes *whiny voice*). Probably should go and get a shot just in case...although I'm 90% sure I've had a shot in the past ten years. Wont hurt to get another one though I suppose. Then I can just make sure I get one at the start of every new decade birthday.

YAWN...I'm tired again now...going to go to sleep, nitey night.

Black. White.

2006-10-23T16:26:00.000+10:00

This doco has just started screening on Austar over here. I'm pretty disappointed in it so far, but not really surprised at all. Race, racism, racialisation...they're all much more complex issues than this documentary can give credit to. You can't oversimplify them and hope to educate people that way. It's an issue that needs to be treated differently for every single person.

I'm really not surprised that Bruno can't see racism around him. I am disturbed and upset though, that he insists that Brian's perceptions are falsely colored by his expections. His absolute denial of the validity of Brian's experiences is extremely arrogant, but also pretty much par for the course. What it boils down to is an attitude which isn't in and of itself racist, but is encouraging and fostering racism by denying its existence. It absolves the protagonist from responsibility and makes the victim responsible for their victimisation.

It's really sad, it pains me to think that we are expected to accept and assimilate that attitude in order to be considered a part of mainstream society. Not just people of color either, but all people who have an understanding and empathy for difference are forced to either accept this, or live alonside it. There's some people whose attitudes can't be changed, and that's okay, as long as there is a place also for those who believe differently. People like Bruno deny us even that place.

Geez! Not bad for a four question quiz.

2006-10-23T15:50:00.000+10:00

What Your Bathroom Habits Say About You

You are a giving soul. Way too giving in fact. You often get stuck doing the dirty work that no one else will do.

You spend a lot on clothes, and you tend to be a very dresser. However, it's hard for you to throw away trendy clothes when they go out of style.

You are a little shy and easily embarrassed. You often wonder if you are normal.

In relationships, you tend to be very romantic and demanding. You'll treat your partner like gold, but you expect a lot in return.

What Do Your Bathroom Habits Say About You?

Hah hah ha ha ha ha haaaah! No surprises for THIS one:

You Are 76% Control Freak

You are a pretty major control freak, though you may not know it.
While your confidence is inspiring, your bossy ways tend to scare people off.

Are You A Control Freak?

Aboriginal MP makes landmark speech

2006-10-20T23:16:00.000+10:00

IN a landmark speech to the Northern Territory Parliament,
Aboriginal backbencher Barbara McCarthy implored the Northern Territory
Government to speak to her people and re-think the expansion of the
McArthur River Mine (MRM).

Distancing herself from her
Labor party's policy, Ms McCarthy, who is the MP for Arnhem, wore white
paint and feathers into Cabinet last night to speak during the
adjournment.

Click for full article by Tara Ravens for www.news.com.au

Another stingray barb to the chest incident

2006-10-20T23:13:00.000+10:00

This time in Florida's Intercoastal Waterway. Apparently the stingray leapt from the water into a boat and struck an 81 year old man in the chest, close to the heart.

I don't remember whether I said this at the time Steve Irwin was killed, but I have a different view of stingrays than most of the experts.

They're not really that timid you know, they're known by my people to chase you when you're diving. Anything that's timid is not going to pursue a creature bigger than them in an aggressive manner, and that's what they've been known to do, regularly. We get out of the water when the rays are about. They're not always shy and peaceful, they're territorial and aggressive at times. I don't know why the marine biologists in the media have a different view. Maybe you need to dive with them over time to see that behaviour.

Oh woe is me...

2006-10-19T13:34:00.000+10:00

I feel like utter shyte. Didn't feel this crap with the girls, just Edan and Coen, so I'm thinking there must be a little boy in there.

I have zero energy too, passing out at sundown and not waking up until lunchtime. I'm taking iron tablets because I tend to get anaemia when I'm pregnant but I gotta be careful when I actually take them, otherwise they come straight back up again.

Last week I saw a new doctor at the Health Service, she's very nice and thorough. I'm going back to see her next Thursday so I'll get her to dose me up on Vitamin B tablets, they're pretty good when it comes to curing nausea.

I'm so tired of feeling sick and not being able to eat. I'm just starving. Mum's getting me some ginger tea and ginger bikkies in town (thanks Christina). I just want to eat.

Will and Grace is on, it's his parents anniversary and there's cakes everywhere. It's so not fair. I WANT TO EAT!

Yes, we have bananas! And a small selection of other fruit.

2006-10-18T00:16:00.000+10:00

So for anyone who doesn't already know, Cyclone Larry virtually wiped out Queensland's banana crop earlier this year. Since then the only bananas available in the shops have been poor battered little cyclone survivors, priced at $15 a KILO!!! When you're used to paying $2 a kilo, that's a bit outside the budget. The boorais weren't happy at the start (they're big fruit eaters, and bananas are like GOLD) but they got used to it.

Now the industry is starting to recover, and we're seeing the first signs of it in the shops finally. Bananas are back to $10 a kilo now, so we could afford to by the kids a hand of them. When we got home tonight, the four of them were all lined up, youngest to oldest, gibbering and pretending to be monkeys, waiting for their banana. I think it took them about 3 seconds to inhale them!

Coen had an Orthotics appointment today; he's getting close to needing some tendon lengthening surgery soon on his knees and hips. After recovery, there's a good chance he could be standing by himself (perhaps in a year or so). If I don't sound excited, well...I am...but, I've heard so much talk about his condition and what could happen, what's possible, what may occur etc etc...I'm kind of fatalistic about it all now. I don't know what's going to happen until it happens anymore, and there's no use guessing or predicting. It just raises my hopes and then chucks me into a big pit of despair when we don't meet the prediction (because truth is it's my fault if he doesn't reach his potential).

In other news, I had a dating ultrasound today, so I now know my estimated due date (23/5/07). Pregnancy sickness is giving me the irrits badly. Can't wait for it to settle down so I can get back to the trough. Y'all know how much I love my food right?

Here's a clue, my favourite lucid dream consists of me trundling along the bottom of the ocean inside a clear pressurised dome containing a huge comfortable bed, a laptop internet ready computer and a TV. The most important part of the dome however, is a slot just next to the bed. In that slot is a magical food generator. Anything I wish for will instantly appear, at the perfect temperature and cooked or prepared to perfection.

There are a couple of other slots too, one produces books upon demand (I won't read eBooks, I need to touch paper and smell printers ink, and fold back the corners of the page to mark my place).

Yes, that's right all you book nazi's out there, I FOLD DOWN THE CORNERS OF MY PAGE!!! Not only that, but I also
- draw little pictures in the margin
- fold the book back on itself breaking its spine,
- flip up a section of the page and grind it back onto itself (eventually wears a tear into it)
- read in the bath and sometimes drop the book either in the tub, or accidently place it face down on a puddle of water while dressing
- correct the spelling or grammar (once I see a mistake that's ALL I can see until it's corrected)
and a whole heap more, but that's enough shameful secrets.

In my defence though, I only do that with my own paperback books not borrowed ones, and if I really really enjoy a book I'll buy a hardcover edition of it. I take better care of those. Paperbacks are for LOVING passionately, and for me, passionate love causes shabbiness. You can tell which books I've really enjoyed and reread a few times, the pages are a little yellowed and warped from getting wet, the covers are gaffa-taped back on, and every single page has been stickytaped back in because the spine's broken and the glue's died.

It's raining, such a beautiful sound on the tin roof. Not enough of it though.

Weird dreams

2006-10-15T14:09:00.000+10:00

All night I was having this strange dream, where I just couldn't hold onto a baby. I was picking them up and cuddling them, and they'd just fall out of my arms! Very weird. The baby never got hurt, even though I was fully DROPPING them. They always seemed to land on something soft, like a mattress, or a pillow or blankets, but still...I just couldn't keep hold of them.
At one stage I thought "Maybe it's the jacket you're wearing" because I had some type of parachute material, slippery jacket on. So I took it off and picked the baby up again (I think it was my new niece, Jessica, whose four months old) and promptly dropped her AGAIN! Strange.

Anyone out there into dream analysis? I used to do it a little, but I don't like analysing my own dreams.

In other news, I feel like utter shyte. Ohhhh I hate morning/allday sickness. I puked three times yesterday and felt like death all day. I'm just absolutely starving, but I can hardly eat. I'm surviving on pretzels, ice water and fruit. I'm craving some hot potato chips but I don't have any energy to get up and cook because I haven't been able to eat properly. Went to bed between 7-8pm last night and slept until midday today! I'm going to drag myself out of bed soon and try to be normal for a while. Wish me luck.

Yay baby girl!

2006-10-14T13:59:00.000+10:00

Janarra has been invited to audition for the Australian Youth Choir. I'm going to ring up and make a time for her audition on Monday. I'd love for her to make it, but god it'll mean that I have to start cutting the apron strings and letting her go...NOOOOOOOOOO.

Hard for HIM??

2006-10-13T02:05:00.000+10:00

Queensland Police Union president Gary Wilkinson (referring to Senior Sergeant Chris Hurley who bashed Mulrunji Doomadgee to death in custody):

"As people will appreciate, it has not been an easy time for Snr Sgt
Hurley and his family in circumstances where, as I believe, he has done
nothing wrong,"

Senior Sergeant Hurley has been stood down on full pay while the DPP decides whether or not he will be held accountable for his actions.

Feeling good today

2006-10-13T02:01:00.000+10:00

Well...better than yesterday anyway. I've been really good and haven't had a cigarette at all. I'm not really tempted at all now anyway because (like Elayne) the smell just makes me wanna puke. And I feel like puking enough as it is already!

Visited the Health Service and got my antenatal care organised. I'm having a dating ultrasound on Tuesday (I'm still breastfeeding so I don't have regular periods). Coen has a hospital appointment on Tuesday as well. Can't remember what it is for, we're (Dean, Mum and I) debating what it could be. Of course, it'd be far more sensible to just get up and go check the diary, but that would mean we'd have to KEEP a diary in the first place. Mmm. Might have to ring the hospital tomorrow and just ask! Hee.

I need to buy Narri a flute, she's really enjoying her lessons and plays very well. The cost of hiring her flute for this year was $130 and I can pick one up on eBay for about the same price. Plus it'll be new, and won't have had anyone else's feral child's saliva in it. shudder.

Hmm I thought I had something else to tell y'all but I can't think. Mummy brain...that's what it is.

Ohhh I have thought of something else. It was a really REALLY nice warm day today. I dug in the bottom of my bag (yeah bag, not wardrobe) and pulled out some nice summery tops and wore one to the health service. Halfway down to Melb, I realised...shit I haven't mowed the underarms for a while! Hoo boy. Do you know how hard it is to keep your arms down when you're scared people will see your tangled undergrowth??? Yeah...very. I'd just about made it through the day too when the physio told me he had a gap in between clients and could assess my lower back if I wanted. Yeah. Couldn't turn that down, I'd be waiting for ages to get in again otherwise so I just had to give up on preserving my reputation as a human being, not an ape.

Speaking of the weather, it was just GORGEOUS today. Not even summer yet and we hit 36 c today (that's 96.8 for my friends overseas). Very low humidity too, so it was beautiful. I love the dry heat...hate it when it's humid. Unfortunately, this hot weather is a real problem for bushfires this year, and if you read my earlier post on bushfires, you'll know that we were already stressing about the danger. Now I'm even more worried. I heard on the radio today that there were 200 (!) reported bushfires across the state, six or seven of them being major ones. Gippsland was hit pretty hard apparently, with three or four biggies, one of them involving the open cut coal mine!!! The radio report said the fire front was 3km wide and 30 metres HIGH!!! Wouldn't want to be living in Morwell right now. So yeah, it was a beautiful day with a sting in its tail.

Okay, I'm off now to look for flutes, goodnight, be good and drive safe.

Centrestink

2006-10-12T22:07:00.000+10:00

Stuck in Bendigo all day yesterday trying to work out my finances. Now
here's the deal, I was working for a little bit earlier this year, but I
was travelling 2.5 hrs each way to get to work and it was killing
me right. So I quit and started looking for something to do up here.
Work was unbelievably slow about giving me my separation
certificate (I quit in april, got my sep cert. in late September!!!) so
I've been living on sweet FA since then. Lucky we're livin in the
country and Dean was at least still getting FTB, so we at least had a
couple of hundred a fortnight to EAT.

So anyway, now that I've got my sep cert. I'm up in Bendigo at
Centredick, trying to put back in for Coen's Carers allowance and
payment. He's been getting this since he was six months old and came
out of hospital because his cerebral palsy means he'll be in a
wheelchair for ever! He might be able to manage walking inside the
house, where he can support himself with furniture and shit, but
basically he can't walk, and he's got intense needs right. All this
means is that he automatically gets carer's pension and allowance
because his needs are so high.

To finally finish this long boring story, I went and got all the
papers I needed, got Coen's doctor to fill out his treating doctors
report and medical report and jumped through all the other hoops they
wanted me too. Then yesterday I went and put in my application. The
moron at the desk looked at the first page of the TDR and said "Oh no,
you won't be getting this, he's not disabled enough". what the FUCK????

Coen can't walk, he can't dress himself, he can't take himself to the
toilet, he can't open things, unscrew jars, untwist bottles etc by
himself, he can feed himself but he can't make his own food, he needs
help to do EVERYTHING (except play the Xbox or PS2, you're not ALLOWED
to help him then pmsl).

So I said, "No he's eligible, he's been receiving it before
in the past, even since he was born." (Aren't you proud of me, I didn't
get mad or anything...well I did get mad, I just behaved myself anyway!
lol).

The mouth breather behind the counter then went "Oh okay, well
someone else will have a look at it for you, you should know in about
42 to 49 days time whether it's been approved and processed."

!!!!!!

42 days????

What the FARNARKLE?????

You wanna know what rounds this story off just perfectly?

He didn't even take my id. I only realised once I got home that I'd have to go back again. What FUN!

day one giving up a bad habit

2006-10-09T01:41:00.000+10:00

feeling:

a bit sick, edgy, unsettled, angry, self-disgust, hungry but can't eat, tired but can't sleep, want a bath but get too flushed when I'm in it, cold, hot, weird, spacy, want a cigarette

It'll pass in three days, be history in 2 weeks, but right now it's significant.

I can feel a bit of an emotional downspiral beginning, hopefully I can delay it until I'm over this. If I let myself, I'll start beating up on me and then it'll be a lot harder.

This is fun, thanks Christina and Ranuel

2006-10-08T01:29:00.000+10:00

The world is going nuts

2006-10-07T17:39:00.000+10:00

There has been calls recently for Muslim women to give up the veil (I'm not even starting on that, its fucking ridiculous, and if you support it then fuck off and don't read my blog again ya halfwit). It's apparently got something to do with the terrorist threat in the world at the moment, which I've been told I'm not taking seriously enough because I'm not FREAKINGTHEFUCKOUT and wanting to destroy and outlaw anything unfamiliar. Some people are saying that these women can't wear the veil because it conceals their face and y'know, on the off chance that they are a terrorist, having their faces revealed is going to...what? Make them more identifiable? Fuck off, eyewitness accounts are unreliable WITHIN racial groups, let alone outside them. Besides, if a muslim woman walked in dressed in a two piece suit just like you and I, you wouldn't even notice her. If she walked in in traditional dress, you're all going to think "Muslim", and most of you would watch her with suspicion. Which one is more identifiable then? That's right, the one that fits your stereotype.

On the other hand, some people believe that we should ALL wear face masks when we're sick, to prevent cross infection. I just caught the tail end of something on SkyNews last night, about doctors urging people in their waiting rooms to wear masks. Wouldn't that cover up just as much face as the Hijab does?

Ah fuck the world is just going mad. You watch, if it keeps it up, I'm seceding and becoming another Hutt River. You coming? Only problem is...we'll still be on the same planet as all the loonies.

The Show was excellent this year

2006-10-01T15:19:00.000+10:00

Each day of the show was themed this year (don't know whether they've done that before) and we went on Thursday which was Outback day. The kids had an absolute ball, and they were just so good, so well behaved and happy. The weather was perfect too, sunny with a good breeze. There was a lot of people of course, but the crowds were great, every one was having a good time and enjoying the day.

Showbags were a lot better value this year too. I remember taking Janarra and Coen years ago, and all the showbags were expensive as hell. The toys inside were rubbish. This year they were still expensive, but the contents were a lot better value. At least they were in the bags I bought the kids.

The treasure hunt and the Animal Nursery were great. Also ran into Eva Jo and a few of her kids who were performing at the show. It was lovely to see them but wouldn't you know it, I missed their performance by about 5 minutes (being a late inclusion to the schedule, they weren't in the program). They still had their ochre and costumes on though, looked deadly. Janarra and I used to dance with Eva Jo a few years ago, and I really miss it, it was great. I should get back into it, even just Janarra and I teaching Lala and Bindi the steps would be great therapy I think.

Anyway I've got bad news too *sob*. I stayed down in Melbourne after the show (I'm going home tonight) to help Bin pack the house and mind all the ferals while Mum went home. Yesterday unfortunately Mum let the rabbits out to clean their cage, and then apparently had some kind of brain fart because she let Smokey off his chain while the rabbits were still out. I think it took him about 5 seconds to get around the side of the house and kill Dirty Harry. Sigh. Unbelievable. I was so angry with Mum too when she told me. Couldn't believe she'd been so thoughtless, but the truth is she's got so much on her mind it's no surprise she's been a bit scattered lately. Ah well, these things happen.

Anyway, gotta go get ready to head home again so that's all folks.

I AM pregnant this time

2006-09-30T22:58:00.000+10:00

woohoo

Deaths in Custody continue...

2006-09-28T16:12:00.000+10:00

Let me get this straight, I am not someone who sees racism everywhere. I've been raised to be fair, to consider all angles of a story, to be aware of propoganda and spin-doctoring, to do my best to remain as little affected as possible by emotion rather than facts. I believe I'm as objective as I can possibly be.

So when I see something like this story, and feel despair, there's a good reason. The inquest into Deaths in Custody was held years ago, and there's still people being battered and killed while in police custody. We hear so many stories within the community from people who have been abused while in police custody that I can only conclude that the system has just gotten better at covering up the systematic abuse. People that I know and trust, family members included, have told me of personal first hand experiences. The emotional distress and hopelessness they express is too raw and real to be false, they just aren't good enough actors.

Besides what would be the point of bullshitting about something like this? There's absolutely no gain, no-one with any authority will believe their story. It's extremely rare for it to even be reported because who do you report it to? The police? Even if you get a sympathetic ear, manage to get hold of a decent officer (and there are some) and get your story out, it's rare for the media to pick the story up unless there's something extra involved. People in Australia just aren't interested in another "abo" dying in custody...that's not a story that's going to sell you many papers. So you need something more, something like the riot on Palm Island that first brought Mulrunji Doomadgee's case to light.

Does anyone think it would have been as widely reported in Australia if there wasn't a huge outcry from the Palm Island community? Pffft not likely.

And now the Deputy State Coroner has ruled that the police officer involved directly caused Mulrunji's death by punching and kicking him, after an arrest that wasn't even warranted. Mulrunji was battered and thrown into a drunk cell to die in agony. For nothing other than being black and drunk in the wrong place.

The officer who beat this man, falsely imprisoned him and left him to die faces no charges at the moment. In fact, he has the full support of the Queensland Police Union. With no one called to be accountable for Mulrunji's death, where is the justice for his family? His death, and the subsequent attempts to cover it up, then imply that he was responsible for his own killing have devastated the family. His mother never recovered from the shock, and died soon after. His young boy Eric committed suicide two years later, as the family still waited for a verdict on the official inquiry into his death.

**********************************

*sigh* But people will still tell me that I'm wrong, that I don't understand. That because I am Koori myself, I'm somehow incapable of analysing any issue regarding Aborigines. It doesn't matter what I say, what I do. Why? Do I suddenly become ignorant, gullible...stupid when it comes to something like this? Sure it's personal, but fuck me dead, it doesn't mean that I'm uninformed. I'm OVER informed if anything. I'm incapable of holding a strong view about anything without educating myself about it.

Thanks to Elayne

2006-09-27T19:20:00.000+10:00

for this link.

The guy in the video is gorgeous. What a sweetheart, how could you resist tormenting him like his wife does...he reacts so perfectly.

Last night, I think I was bitten by a spider

2006-09-27T16:59:00.000+10:00

It was getting cold, so I went out and gathered up a bit of wood from the woodpile to throw on the fire. After I stacked it on the coals, I put a few briquettes on top. While I was doing this, I noticed that the inside base of my left thumb felt...weird. I went in to the bathroom to wash the briquette dust off, and by this time my thumb was throbbing, so I held it under the tap to numb it (the water comes out of the pipes REALLY cold here). Now there's this little mosquito bite sized area that looks really bruised. It's swollen and sore too. The swelling has gone down a little bit, but only enough for me to see that there's a definite pinprick mark right in the centre. It's either a spidey or an ant...can't be too poisonous though or it'd be too sore for me to type.

Today there's a distinct discoloration, with what looks like a poison trail extending nearly an inch from it up my arm. Interesting!

Fingers crossed

2006-09-27T00:31:00.000+10:00

I'm trying out a new (for me) blogging tool called Performancing. It's a Firefox addon to your browser, and allows you to quickly compose and post to your blog while surfing other pages and sites. It allows you to quickly cut and paste and reference text into your post.

Not that I post to this blog at all regularly, but hey, it's a toy and it's fun. Well it will be if it works.

Anyway I'm starving so I'll post this and see what happens. More later if I remember.

This blog is turning into the obituary pages!

2006-09-23T00:27:00.000+10:00

Humph, significant (famous) people in my life keep dying! What the fuck is up with that?

Latest childhood hero to bite the dust is Peter Brock. Mmmm, poor ol' King of the Mountain bought it during the Targa rally, spinning out into a tree on a bend. Brocky was our best rally car driver, and a strong promotor of road safety strangely enough.

Twilight zone piece of trivia for you...two days before he died I got given a collection of children's hats from a friend whose kids are all grown. Coen chose one hat as his own, and promptly wore it day in, day out from that time onwards. At the time, I didn't notice anything special about the hat, it was just a navy blue Auskick AFL promotional hat. Couple of days after Brocky meets a tree by accident, we're all headed down town walking (it was a beautiful day). I'm pushing Coen's chair, and as we come out from under the shade, I notice a signature scrawled across the peak of the cap which looks a hell of a lot like Peter Brock's. Of course, I'm convinced it isn't really Brocky's signature, I must just be reading it wrong because Brocky's in the news at the moment you know. Chrissy assures me that it is though, her ex when she was a kid was obsessed with Brocky, so she's seen his signature enough times to be sure. And really, it couldn't say anything else...it's very clear. Now that I've seen it, I don't know HOW I missed it in the first place. *da na na na, da na na na*

Anyway, I'm scraping up every spare cent these days so I can make it to the Royal Melbourne Show next week with the kids. YAY, I love the show, eating heaps of rubbish food, going on rides, buying outrageously expensive showbags filled with crap...its aaaaallllll good! Love it. Yay.

Oh how sad

2006-09-04T21:31:00.000+10:00

Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin has said his last crikey. While filming an underwater documentary on the Great Barrier Reef, he was struck in the chest by a stingray and died. He is survived by his wife Terri, daughter Bindi Sue and son Bob.

***********************************************************

Trade union hero John Cummins funeral was held in Melbourne today, attended by thousands. John was a great man and will be very sadly missed. Cummo fought a twelve month battle with cancer. He remained honest and committed to the very end. Vale Cummo.

************************************************************

Colin Thiele, author of Storm Boy, passed away today in Queensland, aged 86. Thiele was a wonderful writer, whose uniquely Australian voice introduced many children to the bush.

Well it happened

2006-08-18T23:02:00.000+10:00

My friend's husband was sentenced today; three years to serve with a minimum of sixteen months. That's a long time to be without your family.

All you young dickheads out there, you know who you are...the ones who are all macho, too smart to get caught, too hard to give a shit if you're sent anyway...you're off your heads. Wake up, either you'll get caught in the end anyway in which case it's not just you who gets sentenced, it's your whole fucking family, or alternatively you live the rest of your life looking over your shoulder.

Don't leave it too late to smarten up either. Take too long growing up and you'll end up like my friend, locked up for something you did ages ago when you were young, dumb and full of cum.

And these people are appointed to manage our funds...

2006-08-12T11:58:00.001+10:00

Sent to me by email:

LAND COUNCIL SUED WITH OWN FUNDS BY NSW GOVT’S ADMINISTRATOR

August 10, 2006

A NSW Government appointed administrator admitted under cross-examination that his lawyers had misled the NSW Supreme Court about the source of funds used to pay the costs of a court case against Darkinjung Aboriginal Land Council.

Mr Hillig was appointed as an administrator of the Darkinjung Aboriginal Land Council by the NSW Government to act for the benefit of members, in May 2006.

Mr Hillig admitted he had used $340,000 of the proceeds from a Darkinjung land sale to pay his legal team to sue Darkinjung, to try to wind up the Aboriginal community’s sustainable investment structures and community service enterprises.

He also admitted that he would use Darkinjung funds to pay costs already awarded against him in various courts, after those courts had determined that there was no merit in particular actions he was taking against the Council.

Mr Hillig has not yet been successful in any of the actions he has taken against Darkinjung, using their own funds.

He is acting against the express wishes of the Council’s own members.  At the only properly constituted Land Council meeting since the administrator’s appointment, a unanimous member vote directed Mr Hillig to cease all legal action purportedly taken on their behalf that would undermine the community service, charitable trust and business enterprises already established by Darkinjung. This vote was taken in line with the NSW Aboriginal Land Rights Act (ALRA).

Since Mr Hillig’s appointment, he also has:
· sacked the land council CEO with no notice
· made a false missing persons report to Police about a staff member who was on approved leave to attend to funeral arrangements
· sacked the next acting CEO within two days of her appointment and with no notice or reason
· allegedly ordered that incomplete accounts be paid without proper authorisation, including an account that covered his own administrator’s fees, resulting in the immediate resignation of accounting staff he had himself appointed; and
· failed to complete the task he was appointed to rectify - the completion of the 2005 financial reports.

“It is arrogant in the extreme that someone supposedly appointed to inject more accountability into the land council’s management processes has used our own money to attack us,” said former Darkinjung chair Jeffrey Bradford.

“It would be an outrage to use taxpayers’ money to attack a group of people trying to use their own funds to protect their assets and establish sustainable community services,” Mr Bradford said.

“But it is a deep insult to use Aboriginal people’s compensation money to attack them, especially after removing the local Aboriginal people from decision-making roles in the community."

“It is wrong for the NSW Aboriginal Affairs Minister, Milton Orkopoulos, to accuse us of financial mismanagement.  Does the Minister approve of these actions by the person he appointed?”

Hillig, of Parramatta-based liquidators Smith Hancock, is the first administrator ever to be appointed to a land council in NSW due to a delay in submitting a financial report to the NSW Government.

Further legal costs are expected as Hillig’s trial drags on.  Mr Hillig is entitled to a payment of $120,000.00 for his “services” to the Darkinjung Local Aboriginal Land Council during his six-month appointment.

Background on Darkinjung Aboriginal Land Council
Darkinjung is the most successful land council in NSW, with assets from the sale of land granted to them as compensation under the ALRA expected to total more than $42 million.

They operate a successful beef export business, Australia’s only Aboriginal-owned and operated funeral fund, and had resources allocated to establish Australia’s biggest rent/buy housing scheme.

The actions taken by Hillig have frozen the funds of Darkinjung’s Funeral Fund, Housing and Projects enterprises, as well as endangering the markets and joint venture arrangements of Darkinjung’s successful beef export business.

Doing too much?

2006-07-15T07:14:00.000+10:00

Internet connected at 21.6 kbps, I’m downloading Firefox (it’s a new puter) and virus definitions dating back to 2004 (the last time it was on the net), reading Elaynocentricity, surfing, logging into two forums and typing out blog entries. For some unearthly reason…things are moving veeeeery slooooooowwwwlllly. Any ideas?

WTF is wrong with this story?

2006-07-11T16:07:00.000+10:00

FORMER ATSIC chairman Geoff Clark wants to build a golf course and hotel complex on the site of an Aboriginal massacre.

***************

I'm so angry I cant even speak about this. First of all, if it is a massacre site (and I don't dispute that at all), then putting a resort style complex on it is just abhorrent. Have some fucking respect.

Some photos from the Commonwealth games.

2006-07-11T04:00:00.000+10:00

Wesley Enoch ("the Boss"), Janarra and I

Mum and I

The lovely Earl Rosas, our campfire leader

Janarra amusing herself during the hours of waiting in the cold concrete bowels of the MCG

In Make-up...

Janarra and I, after makeup (the headphones are for our In-Ear on ground instructions, also known as "that thing Wesley uses to yell at us"...lol)

Screen Dancers after Performance

All over, on our way to the bus back to our gathering point

Funny little story from Bendigo Uni Naidoc day

2006-07-05T22:38:00.000+10:00

I went and got lunch for Dean, myself and the kids...only one kangaroo burger left, and a heap of sausages. Being the noble loving partner and mother I am, I decided the kids and I would have the sausages and give Dean the kangaroo burger.

I got back to the family and handed out their food. Kylara took one look at her sausage in bread and rejected it (apparently sausages had become her least favourite food in the world sometime in the past ten seconds).

Thinking quickly (go me!), I said, "Okay then, ask Daddy if you can swap with him and have his kangaroo burger instead."
Kylara's response, "KANGAROO?!?"
Me, "Um...", thinking to self "Oh no, should I not have mentioned that we are eating a furry cute little animal that Kylara sees in her backyard every day?"
Kylara, "Did you kill a kangaROO?"
Me, "Er...no honey, I didn't..." thinking "Yep...shouldn't have..."
Kylara, "Was it a baaaad kangaroo?"

!!!!

Trin hates dial-up!

2006-07-05T13:27:00.000+10:00

I've edited this post to add a link for an upside down catfish.

Yay, the kids are back at school (well, school went back this week but we've had a few extra days for various reasons). Coen is getting his new splints today, Dean is at the hospital with him and Kylara at the moment.

Anyway, I haven't been on much lately, Muckleford still doesn't get ADSL (!!) and the dial up speeds are just abysmal (try 28.8 k for size).

Oh I have big news. My brother and his fiancee have had their baby! Jessica Paige Golden-Brown is 2 weeks old now, and just a gorgeous lovely content little baby. Mum and Dad are...heh...adjusting to the broken sleep. Chrissy tells me that I TRICKED her by not looking at all sore after I had Bindi (bugger me, as I recall I bitched non stop about the BUTCHER who delivered her). Heh heh heh. Poor girl...she's starting to feel more normal now though.

NAIDOC celebrations are in full swing now. We went up to Bendigo Uni's day, it was really good. Stayed at Kym's the night before with all the kids, it was really nice to see them after all this time. Kym's kitchen and back freezer was chock a block with heaps of kangaroo meat. She made up a ton of kangaroo mince burgers with traditional native Australian herbs for the open day at the uni. They smelt really really beautiful, but smelling them was as close as I got lol. Students and faculty just swooped on them like seagulls...even Kym didn't get a taste of them!

It was a good day all up. The kids had a ball, Coen got his photo taken by the Bendigo Weekly, Janarra won the Environmental Challenge and got a truckload of prizes (including a working microscope, a gorgeous Banksia seedling and a showbag of other goodies. All of them scored a prize for the art competition too. Great day.

Can't believe how busy I've been lately, and some days I've just wasted because I'm so exhausted from the previous few days chaos that I just can't get out of bed for longer than an hour or so. I meant it, I literally can't stay on my feet, I'm just too wrecked.

There's so much to do though in those few hours when I can manage to move about that I just feel more drained by the end of the day physically. My mind though is going a million miles an hour, obsessing about...urgh...everything...it just wont stop. Makes for a good restful sleep I can assure you.

If this stuff happens to you too, then I don't need to explain it, you just understand. If it doesn't, well then...sorry...I'm not eloquent enough to give you a fair understanding. Gawd, I wish I had a magic remote control like the Adam Sandler movie Click. I'd just press pause and then sleep and be lazy, pampering and self-indulgent for...oh I don't know...about a week or so for starters.

Guess what, I have more pets now (yay!). There's the incumbents;
Smoky, our heeler X staffordshire
Harley, our husky X rough collie
Rahzi, my part manx cat
Tiger and Bear, her sons
Keke, the son of the late lamented Robyn
Beau, our aged Anglo Arab
Multiple fish (I could identify and name them all, 'cept the myriad guppy babies, but then you'd just think I'm weird)
and Leonardo and Raphael, two native turtles who live in a pond out the back

and I just got:
Dirty Harry, a brown and white male lop ear bunny
Bambi, a grey long-haired male dwarf lop ear bunny
Whiskers, a very young and small Tandanus catfish
and Ping, an upside down catfish.

anyway, time to go, byeeeeeeee

Goodnight Rick Farley

2006-05-15T13:04:00.000+10:00

Thank you for your life. You were passionate and committed and true. To your partner Linda, my deepest sympathies.

Happy Mothers Day

2006-05-14T15:33:00.000+10:00

I got breakfast in bed! Well, I had a shower first and then I was ordered back to bed so I could be presented with my Mothers Day tray. It was really lovely.

The boorais got me a breakfast tray (nice one too, pretty flowers, nice colors), a little gold change purse (which I love, don't know why I haven't had one before), a little manicure set and some pictures and stories they laminated at school for me.

Kylara wanted to know if Mothers Day is today, then when is it Childrens Day. She was well satisfied to learn that every other day is Childrens Day.

Narra and Lala are cleaning the cat run at the moment (yay).

ten minutes later: Oooh that's filth. I took pity on my babies and decided to help them with the cats. The squeals and cries of disgust got too much for me.

*sigh* I forgot to put the horse's rug on. Excuse me a moment...

damnfuckshitandhell (about an hour later)

We just ran out of water again.

I put the horse's rug on, watered and fed Harley and Smoke, took the cat trays to the laundry to clean them, rearranged the laundry so I could actually get in there, cleaned the trays, dried them, got Narra to put them away, scrubbed the laundry and the sink clean again, sorted out some washing, gathered the children, ran them a bath, boiled a kettle because we're out of hot water, refilled their bath with hot, fixed the toothbrush holder, wiped the benches, took the rubbish out, got Bindi out of the bath, dried her and dressed her, grabbed the kettle to fill it and have a cuppa, turned on the tap and watched the water trickle out slower and slower and slower until it was just dripping. Damn bastard water tank must be empty. Again.

*sounds of breast beating and hair pulling out*

My back is aching. I'm lonely (Dean pissed off to play soccer this morning, and Mum is down in Melbourne, the kids are amusing each other).

I'm going to go and have a cigarette. Maybe I'll be more sociable and interesting then.

Quiet day at home.

2006-05-11T15:45:00.000+10:00

Work has its AGM today, and I was expected to go but really, I have little enough time at home as it is, without having to travel all the way down to Melbourne and out to the League to sit through a meeting all day. So, I didn't go.

Anyway, I had to go check out a house I want to rent. I've gotta get out of Mum's place at Muckleford (and so does she lol) it's just too freaking cold! Unbelievably cold, and the only heating is the open fire.

Bought another fish today for Lala's one which died soon after we bought it. Don't know what happened to it, it may have already been sick. All the other fish are looking great, I bought a few more live plants for the tank today, and they're loving the extra cover. I need to get a large tank for my turtles too, it's getting way too cold for them to stay outside. Poor things, it's freezing out here!

Beau is looking good though. Looks like the shelter I built him, and the different feed has made a massive difference.

Both the dogs are registered locally now, at last. Now for the cats, although I have to wait for Tom & Chrissy to move to a house where they can take their cat before I can register it. Five cats in this area is about three too many. I'm going to keep one of the kittens, and I'll have to find homes for two others I suppose. Not fair but c'est la vie.

Hmmm, what other trivial stuff can I bore you with now? Well nothing comes to mind so I'd best be gone...luv ya and leave yas.

Welcome Home Boys, Vale Larry Knight

2006-05-09T15:42:00.000+10:00

Todd Russell and Bryant Webb, welcome back home. I can't imagine how unbearable your ordeal was.

Larry Knight and family, my sincerest sympathies. Rest easy now.

Richard Carleton

2006-05-08T15:43:00.000+10:00

What a shame.

Good night Richard Carleton, I'll miss you on my TV. You were always a consummate professional, and never scared to ask the real questions.

You are one of the last of the real journalists, those who were prepared to risk their popularity or job security for the sake of the news.

We won't see another like you again.

February 24, 1943 ~ May 7th, 2006

The next exciting installment?

2006-04-05T16:54:00.000+10:00

Hellooooo!!!

Look, gawd, I'm so sorry I havent been active for so long, I have no excuses, the truth is that you're just not that important to me. NO, only stirring, truly I've been feeling guilty as hell and lonely for y'all, I've just been too busy to do anything about it.

Anyway so what is responsible for my extended leave of absence? Well, many things have changed significantly in Trin's world. We've had to say goodbye to the gorgeous weather and beautiful seafood (oooh foooooood) of Nowra. Yeah, I've done what I was threatening and moved back to Victoria yet again. Look I'm not totally happy about it, as I'd invested a heap of time and energy into Nowra, but unfortunately the services just arent there for Coen, and I gotta admit, I'm getting sick of struggling to feed and clothe myself. So its back to Melbourne for work, and back to Muckleford to live.

Oh btw, its a two hour commute, meaning I leave before my children wake in the morning, and get home 3 hours before their bedtime. Boo fucking hoo. Boo major fucking hoo.

Anyone see the Commonwealth Games opening ceremony? See the Indigenous component with the possum skin cloaks and campfire dancers? JANARRA AND I WAS IN IT!!! YAY!!!

Anyway it's time to run or I'll miss my train home. Luv ya's guys. byeee

I'm busy for a while

2006-01-10T14:04:00.000+11:00

My computer is being fuckity, Coen has his appt at Westmead on the 17th so we're leaving for NSW in a couple of days and wont be back for a week or so and I've got a heap of shit to do around the house so I may not be around for a fortnight. ttfn

What I like best about having a blog...

2006-01-04T22:26:00.000+11:00

...is when you find some arrogant internet dickhead who thinks they're the only one in the world whose opinion is worth listening to, and have set up a site proclaiming their godliness. Usually they have some means for visitors to their site to contact them and tell them what they think of the site and the site owner. This is really just a scam for them to poke fun at the people who disagree with them, by posting their email on the site with plenty of sarcastic and smug comments.

So I'm not going to give them the pleasure of putting myself out there to be insulted...heh heh...nah fuck it, I'll just put shit on them from the safety of my own blog. Anonymously. I know who I'm slinging off at, and that's all that matters, y'all can find your OWN fuckwits to curse about online.

Which leads me to this (in a roundabout kinda way)...I have never understood why people set themselves up as experts, purporting to deliver advice or some kind of service, then INSULT the very people they are making their living from/catering to. What is up with that? What kind of person do you have to be to have so little respect and compassion and empathy for others? I mean...jeez...people give ME the shits too sometimes, but be fucked if I'm gonna run around like a high schooler, going "Oooh look at this fuckknuckle, what a dummy they are....ha ha...yeah they came to me for help, but I'd rather laugh at them." Didn't their parents raise them right or something? I mean...if you think someone is an idiot, what good does it do to tell them that? Is it spreading a bit of love around or a bit of hostility? Is it going to make ANY appreciable difference in their life or indeed in yours? Do you think you'll be any better off for indulging in such negative behaviours and reactions?

Thumper's mum said, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say nothin' at all." See...a fricking animated BUNNY RABBIT is more evolved on an emotional level than most people.

I don't know why people hate other people so much. Why do people like to make it all about "Us versus Them"?

I have a pretty solid opinion though...I think it's a lot easier to blame others for all your problems and dissatisfaction with your lot than it is to actually grow up and take responsibility for it.

Keep listening for the "pop" people...that's the sound your head makes when it finally emerges from your arse.

anyway finished bitching, bye

I'm moving...

2005-11-24T12:29:00.000+11:00

We're moving lock stock and barrel back to Castlemaine, making ourselves a few adobe buildings and going bush/feral.

Woo HOO!

I've been having fun making mud bricks and building walls and earth ovens with the family, and letting the ruggies run around like little dirt bags. Yay mud!

a memory

2005-11-08T21:27:00.000+11:00

There's a pebble in my shoe. It's big enough to annoy me, but not enough to make me stop and remove it. Besides, it's so hot that the flies are sticking to me like glue. If I squat down to play with my shoe, they'll attack me in force.

I can see that the back of my brothers shirt is covered in them. I wonder how many I've got on me.

"Hey brah, have a look, how many?" I say, as I turn around and walk backwards.

"Far out!" He waves his hand close to my back, and a cloud of blowies takes flight. Their humming is the sound of summer to me.

I roll my shoulders around to loosen the muscles, and flap my collar to catch the breeze.

"Ohhhh it's so hot!" I moan, "Which way are you going home?"

I know which way I'm going. I stick to the dirt road, not because of the snakes but because I'm a scaredy little chicken, and don't want a farmer to tell me off for taking a shortcut through his land.

"Thru the paddock." Tom doesn't worry about the same things as me. He just wants to get home, as quick as possible, and taking a shortcut through the paddock is the quickest way.

We're nearing the junction where we go our separate ways. It's a three kilometre walk from the bus stop to our front gate, and for the first kilometre we walk together, and talk about our day. The next two kilometres we walk alone.

I use this time to fantasize and imaginate. Sometimes it's about the guy at school with the really tight football shorts. Or maybe I'm an explorer trudging through a desert that no other civilised person has set foot on. Other times I'm an alien that has just landed, and everything is new to me...even the dust puffing around my shoes.

We're at the big gum tree on the corner now, and I'm about to turn onto Muckleford School Road for the next leg of my walk.

"Okay, catch ya at home brah, if you're the first home chuck the kettle on ok?"

I turn away and start walking. There's more trees along this track, and the sunshine isn't so hot on my dry parched skin. The leaves at the very top of the trees rustle constantly in the slight breeze, dappling the light across the ground and sending splashes of it across my uniform. I glance around, a waste of time because there's never anyone here in the middle of the bush. Satisfied that I'm alone, I roll the bottom of my dress up and tuck it into my undies. I can't do much with the top half other than tuck my sleeves in and wet my hair in the creek just around the corner.

The water makes my hair heavier, but its so much cooler. Trickles run down the back of my neck and inside my dress, snaking their way down my spine. If I tense my muscles and squirm just right, I can direct the cool droplets where I want them to go.

I twist my hair into a top knot and stick a twig through it, so the water keeps my crown cool. The smell of the clean water and the fresh new baby grass at the edges of the creek makes me feel safe and peaceful. I debate whether to soak my dress as well, and decide that it can't hurt; the heat of the sun will more than likely dry it out.

As I stand back up, a sprig of new eucalypt leaves brushes against my face. I find myself a large enough switch to keep the flies at bay and snap it off. The newest and greenest leaves release their crisp scent as I crumble them between my fingers. I rub the eucalyptus oil off my hands and onto my face...it'll keep the flies away from my eyes and mouth till I get home. Inhaling a deep healthy lungful of clean fresh fragrant air, I step back off the crumbling banks of the creek, through the culvert and back onto the hard dirt road to home...

I wish I was there now.

Our Prime Minister...

2005-10-27T11:01:00.000+10:00

Is a jerk and I didn't vote for him.

My daughter was supposed to perform at her school concert last night. We got all prepared, all dressed up. Plenty of soot (mascara) on her face (she's playing a miner), and then at the last moment, she got stage fright.

Any other time I would encourage her to go on anyway, but she's kinda crook with a head cold, and beside the poxy school didn't keep any tickets for the families of performers to purchase, but reserved "special" tickets for the mayor and shit.

Well get fucked, if I can't see my girl perform then sure as fuck the mayor aint. Poxy school isn't using my child to make money without any consideration for the parents.

Random thought; why do people continually try to play the guilt trip on me? Don't they realise it just pisses me off?

Rahzi

2005-10-25T14:45:00.000+10:00

Oh yeah, for those who care, Rahzi had her kittens the other day.

Four little ones, two tabby and two black. One tabby has a normal tail and the other has a stumpy one. One black kitty has a normal tail and the other one has NO TAIL AT ALL (just like Rahzi).

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Random Observation

2005-10-07T18:06:00.000+10:00

My man is incapable of seeing the logic in moving a mattress and kids sofa bed away from the plastic drawers before he attempts to open them.

Even once the drawers are prevented from opening any further, the solution that occurs to him is not to pause and reassess the situation, its simply to PULL the drawer HARDER.

Hmmmm.

Disgraceful...

2005-07-25T17:21:00.000+10:00

Anti-terrorist measures, an excuse to terrorise your own people...

An innocent guy got shot in the head, five times, in front of many commuters. Terrified witnesses report him as looking like a cornered rabbit right before he is brutally executed in front of their eyes.

What the hell is going on? Where's the huge outcry?

I feel sick...as soon as this news came out, while they were still claiming he was a terrorist, I *knew* that it wasn't so. I knew this was just a case of some poor non-white guy getting slaughtered because of fear and suspicion. The color of his skin marked him for death. And the color of his skin means that, for many people, he was an acceptable casualty in the "fight against terrorism".

God that sounds so awful and melodramatic...I know. I can't help thinking that way though. Someone prove me wrong, please. Throwing the challenge out there.

Jeez, y'know the truth is, the fight against terrorism has already been fought and LOST. The whole purpose of terrorism is to create an atmosphere of fear, terror and suspicion amongst the enemy. We are their enemy, and it's for goddamn sure we are living in just that atmosphere.

Take a bow Bush, Howard and Blair...you've done a brilliant job.

Vic Simms and Jimmy Little tour

2005-07-17T03:35:00.000+10:00

Had a brilliant night tonight. Went out to the Cornish Arms hotel to see Vic Simms and Jimmy Little perform in concert. It was only a smallish pub, with a tiny stage, and the floor was packed with tables and chairs (dinner was included in the ticket price - $50). The place was completely sold out and packed to the rafters.

Deniece Hudson warmed the audience up beforehand. She is a lovely, beautiful young girl from Victoria, who has the voice of an angel. She has an album out, called Black Opals, but it seems to be only available at the Last Record Store in Collingwood. It would have been a good idea for her to bring a box of her CD's to the gig for people to buy on the night, but no matter, next time.

Uncle Jimmy performed first, and his voice is a beautiful, mellow and rich as ever. He has recovered well from his kidney replacement after two years of dialysis. I really enjoyed watching him work the crowd, and he even managed to get former Essendon player Michael Long up on stage to sing Danny Boy. What a revelation! The man has brilliant untapped talent as a singer. I was completely moved, a totally a cappella rendition, on key, vibrant, full of emotion. I was blown away.

He also pulled Keith Podger from the Seekers up on stage, and he sung "I will never find another you." Ohhhh it was beautiful, everyone was singing along...so nice.

Buzz Bidstrup aka Graham Throckton got up on stage too and performed.

Vic Simms performed the second half of the gig, and was his usual, flamboyant and entertaining self. He's a consummate performer now and very skilled at working the crowd. The stage was too small for him though I think, he really likes to cut loose, and move a lot. No chance on that little stage, especially once the rest of the band was up.

Kutcha was there, and I had a little yarn with him. He wanted to know how John was, and whether he was in Melbourne, but it was too loud to talk at all, so I'll have to catch up with him at the Health Service if I'm lucky.

I'll have to get down to the Last Record Store and grab a copy of Deneice's album. Might do that tomorrow.

OH SHIT!!! I forgot to ring Robyn!!

I used to live here.

2005-07-15T09:49:00.000+10:00

Yep, right there in the middle. See the one with the trees in the yard, and the yukky colored car parked out front? That was ours. D & I lived on the second floor, Mum and our nieces shared the bottom floor, and Tom, Hoa and Alison up top. Beautiful house, gorgeous surroundings, plenty of room. Bastard to pay for.

Why, why, why?

2005-07-15T09:09:00.000+10:00

Why do people post big sooky, "look at me, I'm leaving" threads when they leave a forum? Why don't they just GO?

99% of the time, I reckon it's because they want everyone to say "OOOOoOOOOoooOOOoh no stay, stay, we can't live without you, we love you, pleeeeeeeease don't leave us". Or something along those lines anyway.

God it's annoying! Why can't they just say, "Hey, I'm feeling shitty, I need some attention."? It's dishonest and manipulative behaviour and I hate it when people try to manipulate me. Hate it. Cannot stand it. The dishonesty part...meh...everyone bullshits every now and then, sometimes to save face. But the other part, no, that's simply manipulating someone's emotions, just to get an emotional return for yourself. Don't like it.

Okay that's established, lets move on shall we.

Why do we need to sleep? Not that I don't like sleeping, hell I'd sleep my life away if I didn't have any responsibilities. But really, there's too many things I need to do, I could spend all my life just doing them, and never do anything just for ME cos I want to. So the only time I get to be me, is when I should be asleep. I really need another me, who shares a telepathic mind link with me. Then we can take it in turns, one sleeping while one is doing whatever. Just gotta work out how to do it now. May take a little time.

Why does the night pass so damn quickly when you're on the computer, but sooooo damn slowly when you're waiting up late for a loved one to get home?

Whitefellas...you just can't trust them

2004-12-18T20:22:00.000+11:00

Whitefellas... you just can't trust them
Graham Ring is based in Melbourne. He's a part-time, award-winningwriter and a fortnightly NIT columnist.

That bloke who went mad with the gun at Port Arthur? Whitefella. The English guy who pinched squillions of dollars from his company and lost it on the stock-market? Whitefella. The directors of the James Hardie corporation, busy protecting the company's billions whilst leaving asbestosis victims in the lurch? Whitefellas.

If you look closely, you may see a pattern beginning to emerge. Stalin, Hitler, Ronald Biggs. Whitefellas all of them. Not a good look is it? Makes it easy to see why people are a bit reluctant tomix with them.

To make matters worse, most of them are in the grip of the grog. The stats are pretty clear on this: Only 16 percent of non-Indigenous Australians are teetotallers, yet over 30 percent of Aboriginal Australians don't touch the stuff. Only one in eight white males abstains from alcohol, whereas amongst blackfellas the figure is closer to one in three.

You've gotta feel sorry for people struggling like this. But it gets worse.

Sadly, many of these folk have a tendency to go walkabout. Bundjalung country in south-east Queensland is over-run every winter by whitefellas from Victoria who can't cope with the cold (this kind of shiftlessness and inability to deal with discomfort makes them a poor risk for prospective employers). Remarkably, this mob spend most of their time in Queensland oiled up like chips - trying to make their skins go dark. So they're not really whitefellas at all. They just like to call themselves that when its suits them.

Same as the 'whitefellas' living out in the bush. They don't look much like whitefellas to me. They haven't got suits, expensive cars or office jobs, so it's hard to see how they could be fair-dinkum.

Real whitefellas live in Sydney and Melbourne. Everybody knows that.

These people tend to cling to the old ways. They just don't seem to be able to adjust to changing circumstances. Take Sydney for example. The road system is in a state of semi-permanent gridlock and the city is choked with pollution given off by these motionless motor cars. But do they have the vision to beef up the public transport system? No way Jose. They just build more tunnels to carry more cars to cause more pollution.

It's distressing to see people so limited in their thinking. In the big cities, the best retail land is occupied by sacred sites called 'churches'. In the old days, folks flocked to these places for spiritual guidance, but no-one much goes along any more. People are voting with their feet. Surely its time to give this valuable space over to commercial interests, and relocate these so-called sacred sites to the outer suburbs where the land is cheaper. You can't stop progress.

But the saddest thing about these shiftless, drunken types is that they can't even agree amongst themselves.Next time you see a gang of whitefellas hanging about - and let's face it, they do tend to hang around in packs - ask them what they think about abortion, or privatisation or the middle east? Know what you'll get? As many different answers as there are whitefaces. Total confusion.

How can we possibly help them if they can't even agree amongst themselves?Why can't they break out of this rut? Personally, I reckon it's because the government gives them everything. And they don't even have the good grace to be honest about these handouts. Instead they use code-words like 'tax break', 'incentive scheme' or 'rebate'.

And what do they do with their dough? Buy villa units in gated communities. Stay inside scared rooted, watching current affairs telly about home invasions and drug barons in the suburbs. They venture out once every couple of years - to vote for politicians who promise them more police and stiffer sentences. But I've been a bit rough. It's easy to lump whitefellas together and say 'they all do this', or 'they all do that'. In truth they are all individuals. So try to suspend your prejudices. Just take 'em as you find 'em.

By the way dear blog readers, this is a joke, just in case...y'know...