Today is a sorta downtime day. Sitting here in my pj's, fire roaring, eating stew. And *gasp* watching Dr Phil as he addresses issues which I have lived over the last (oh crap, almost a year...) few months. Well, it did hit the fan in the last few months anyway. Anyone who reads over my blog will get the idea, it hasn't been a constant and most of the time it didn't get to me, but it all reached a head a couple of months ago.
What was a great sign today is the fact I *giggled* throughout most of this show, especially with the second part on the stalkerish friend. I am back to where I was earlier, and find it really amusing that these sad little nobodies are still stuck in the quagmire of their nasty little lives/lies.
Lordy, my life is a Dr Phil show! Now, that's funny!
Last weekend was our little hinterland scarecrow festival. We entered last year, but due to our trip, didn't this year. A lot of time, effort, talent and patience goes into these entries... I know, it took us quite a while to make ours and it was nowhere near as well done as many of the others.
Albert Scareinstein 2009
But it is a personal investment of sorts, and that is why when some dickhead comes along and mindlessly destroys I would like to do the same in return!
Our very arty, talented friends created this masterpiece:
Which has now been reduced to this:
They are not the only ones. Quite a few of the entries have been reduced to ash. And it happened last year too, but not near as many exhibits were torched. Would love to get my hands on the bright spark who did this, see how they like to dance in the flames...
Hey moron - what's next? Gonna light up a few family homes, or maybe just hit a couple of shops? Hmm? It is MALICIOUS DAMAGE and ARSON you dickhead! You have destroyed someone's property and I hope they find you and your life becomes forever complete with a criminal record! See how good it feels then you dumb piece of excrement!
Stolen from the Trav's blog: Hey y'all. This little thing is called Memoir Monday, and I'd be thrilled if you gave it a shot. Just jot down a story about yourself, grab the code down there, and I'll link you up to be read by all my wonderful blog buddies. The only rule? It has to be true. I am personally doing what I can to help cure your case of the Mondays. Thanks for playing along! Of course, you also need to comment on Trav's blog post to be linked, lol.
So, here we go... buckle down, it ain't pretty.
Once upon a time in a far off country town there lived a family of four: Grumblebum (father), Wise Woman (mother), Flame Haired One (oldest daughter) and a very young Madmother (younger daughter). They were a happy little clan, and surprisingly (for those who know the MM now) religious to some extent.
On this special day the fof were attending the local Anglican Church for their oldest daughter's confirmation. You know, the bit where you study for weeks and weeks, then go off to the church, get blessed, make a few promises and finally are allowed to sip that grog and chomp that wafer (actually, it is the other way around, but meh). And this particular confirmation of twenty or so virginal young people was even more special due to the attendance of the Bishop of the Diocese. Very, very serious stuff.
So, in the large, cold, formal Anglican church, full to the brim for this celebration of the first communion, a six year old MM sits with her Mum and Dad in a row about halfway back in the pews, and watches, enraptured, her older sister in the front row. Eleven year old FHO glances back and waves a few times. Patiently they watch, all three beaming with pride as FHO takes her vows, has her drink and nibble, and returns to her seat for a couple of hymns and the closing prayers. Being the gracious older sister, she eventually signals for eager little MM to creep down the side aisle to join her in the front pew seat of honour. MM beams, and quiet as a church mouse, tiptoes to join her. All is good,they sing the praises holding hands, listen reverently as the high up bishop honcho speaks and blesses them, and then kneel for the prayers.
It was this same year. Angelic ain't I?
It is quiet, terribly quiet. So hushed you could hear a pin drop. And the stillness seemed to drag on and on endlessly. Solemn occasion this. And MM being well really pretty much as out there as I am now, began to wonder what would happen if someone made a little noise to break the silence.
So little MM, kneeling in the front row, sweetly calls out at the top of her six year old lungs to the huge, echoing church, (you guessed it):
It was quite melodical, let me tell you. Cannot properly convey the sweet sound with the written words.
I was promptly sent back to G and WW in disgrace. And she didn't talk to me for a month as she suffered under the constant jibes of "toot, toot" from friends which, of course, didn't help the situation at all.
From that point on it became my signature call. So don't be too surprised if you hear the doorbell ring one day, and then a loud "Toot, toot." You'll know who it is...
Lordy Miss Claudie, I ask about upping my followers, and woo-whooo, I lose three followers... Wow, can you at least a drop a line to let me know if I piss you off? Pleeeeze? Just cause I iz a curious soul. Okay?
Okay, here's the deal. This little blue caboose is going to try and get back into blojo mode and blog every day, or at the very least, every couple of days. May be short on our busy school holiday's days, but at least something. Even perchance just a quick "Toot, toot!" Now, as Travseems to have dropped his Memoir Monday mode (*mutter*mutter**curse*curse*) I may have to come up with some other bandwagon to hitch my tales of a tiny terror onto.
Oh, look, screw it I will try one more time to kickstart the dinosaur tomorrow, so start thinking up your Monday Memoirs and I'll put in a McLinky thingy in the post. If this post HINTING for him to step up doesn't work, and I'll go kick Trav one to see if he will at least direct people here if HE doesn't get off his increasingly smaller butt and do it (hint, hint)...
Ooh, excitement - it now seems, according to his blog, he intends to! Remember that he is a yank, and it means it will be put up at some ungodly hour late on Monday, so I will still post here tomorrow arvo, and then edit to link to the TRAV! (Maybe I should have read the small print on his blog before coming in to blurb, oops. My bad.)
Oh, and people, if you wish to find out the story behind the Toot Toot, you'll need to tune in tomorrow.
And if you like what you read please follow, or at least comment so I get a little of my much needed positive feedback (it is hard being a blogger, we do crave some accolades you know). Oh another thing - hey you lot - ever noticed how much I link your blogs when I refer to them? Hell, ever noticed how much I refer to other blogs at all? Well - how about some reciprocating, huh?
I'm feeling a little neglected over here in the closet...
We have had a lovely break, and are now on our return journey back to the mountain. We are sitting back at Tinonee, home of my heart, staying an extra night as Boy 1 is not well with a virus.
And now I come to the crux of this post. I do not want to go home. I do not want to return to the petty bitching nastiness I have faced since July last year. I do not want to have to deny lies, justify innocent comments, or explain myself and my family anymore. In all honesty, if I had a choice ( and I do not), I would move everyone back here. To this little town where my childhood friends are. To the place where people have known me for decades and KNOW ME. Where they are not swayed by utter crap, or conned by professional victims. Where liars are exposed, ridiculed and made to back off.
My children are excited to be on their way home. I am not.
Originally started by Melissa @ The Things I'd Tell You, the Muse Wars were so named in the second challenge by Madmother (moi), and continued through to around ten challenges. Then stopped, frozen in time.
I am now dubbing the new era of short story photo challenges as:
Muse Wars: The Linky Era
Anyone can join in, you just need to write a story as your interpretation of the photo in 500 - 1000 words. Can be of any genre - let your mind fly free.
McLinky closes within 48 hours of challenge opening.
First to link sets new photo for next challenge. Or can pass it on to next on list but MUST be passed within 24 hours of previous challenge closing.
Next challenge must be set within seven days of completion of previous challenge.
Post the code on your blog for all to see - and include the rules!
Yes, it is a man, but I couldn't find anything else to suitably sum up how I am feeling this morning, lol. Truly, add boobs and voila - ME!
Not going to grumble too much, suffice to say that travelling with the Boy 1 Aspie is a little challenging. Change is *ahem*, difficult for him, and so sleep is disturbed unless he climbs into my bed. Then sleep is difficult for me.
And the one night he managed to sleep in his own bed was the night of Trivia, and wine and sleep are not how it works with me. I usually doze on and off, waking with a start every hour until eventually waking wondering who decided to vaccuum my mouth sandpaper dry and then place the dead mouse at the back of my throat?
Don't think I'll drive this leg, could be lethal...
You can never go back, they say. But I would disagree with them. I have now lived in three other places and travelled the world twice, but I still call the small country town of my childhood home.
I am here for only a few nights, yet already the worries of the world and the weight of tension have left me. Aaah, home.
I love this place.
We ate takeaway, drank wine and played Trivial Pursuit with old friends last night.
Manning Point, NSW
We went fishing and watched the sunset in the briskness of a winter afternoon (we caught ten very small fish: eight brim, two puffer fish, much to the excitement of all) today.
*Sigh*. Life is full of simple pleasures in the land of my childhood. I lived here for the first eighteen years of my life, and have always come home frequently. It is my life source, and all ills heal if I return. My power charger, the battery that keeps my spirit intact.
If you want to see more of the little cottage where we are staying, go here.
And tomorrow we leave. We head to Sydney via a Newcastle luncheon, and more reunions with good friends. I will probably enjoy Sydney, it was home for the second part of my life: University, career, partying. The second eighteen years. But that is another story, and in all liklihood, another post this week.