For the poor unlucky sods who saw my huge whinge over the unfairness of junior cricket for my son William - my apologies.
Duly deleted and archived into the "Mel goes crazy box".
In a nutshell - I signed William up for cricket - the Yaralla junior cricket club coach and registrar said he had to play for 2-3 years younger age group (William has no experience and basically sucked at first training) - William was upset - I said I would fix it - registrar of said club woman made me angry by referring to how short William was at least three times and by saying "How will William feel when he lets his team down" - I lost the plot .. could of behaved myself better with my telephone manners - I ranted and raved to not only my dear friend immediately but too any dear friend unlucky enough to run into me yesterday.....
Problem was solved. We put him into a team that apparantly is completely used to losing and doesnt have height restrictions nor worries about experienced 12 year olds (no one told me when I signed him up for the Yaralla team that they do pride themselves on being winners - found out that today over a glass of wine with friends)
And now - I look forward to a summer of William playing with the kind of people I would rather he play with ANYWAY. William is happy - in his own age group - LOVES the bright yellow shirt he gets to wear and (so long as Mummy doesnt harp on) he can live down the shame now of being told to play with the little kids.
But - I was very upset at the time.
Whilst I would always believe in nurturing the talented players in any sport - I also am a firm believer in encouraging all children to play sport - any sport - even if they do "suck".*
I am proud of my sons devotion, tenacity, perseverance and sensitivity. That is what matters most.
And just incase anyone reads this damn thing best I remove the pages of me bitching. So it is gone! Adieu!
*William's words to me - when he explained he sucked at bowling, he really sucked at catching and when he put the "cup" to protect his genitals in and it fell out of his underpant-less pants - he learnt a very important lesson in humility. I doubt he will ever not wear underpants to cricket again. I think its best I buy him his own cup.
Not the cup like on Cazzie's site. My beloved son has had enough humiliation for the week.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Wanna hire a ute?
Christian took this photo on the way home from Theodore the other week. It is around Benaraby - and some larrikin has... indeed made it more noticeable.Wonder if larrikinism will be part of the "values test" for our incoming migrants?
You have to like Ms Fits' idea - instead we could make Friday night games a more viewable show - really test them buggas! Best yet - make them compete against all our competent fellows in the Immigration Department!
I so wish I had of said what Steph said "Tis a shame the original inhabitants of this land didn't have similar "tests" before they allowed entry.
Can you picture it.
"oi whitefella, if ya can chuck that boomerang and catch that there roo, you can stay. Otherwise get back in ya boat and fuck off"."
Last night on the tv
Remember the dickhead Yeppoon bait and tackle shop owner who complained about migrants COMING INTO HIS SHOP and not speaking English. He just didnt get it did he? COMING INTO HIS SHOP. Odd thing that - people from other countries are just as likely as us to want to go fishing and they could require tackle.
I loved working at Tafe with the wonderful hard working students in the English a Second Language department. Years ago I had a dear neighbour and friend who I spent hours with and watched her progress and frustration and her diligence! Nah - that starts three hundred stories.
But I do want to know whose fooking values are we going to use here? Dickheads come in all cultures. In that we are hardly unique.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
An ulcer on my EYE!
After the last post, I did retire to the sofa for more really corny tv. During the post and after I attempted to take my contact lenses out. Well the right one - the left one came out quickly with no problems.
When I was getting ready to go to dinner and putting them in I noticed I had a very small sty.. stye.. sti? wait I have to look that up dammit. Sty ok. Same as pig pen. That HARDLY seems right. Anyway.
Anyway - I figured we wont be out long anyway and it is only tiny. By the time I lay on the sofa small sty had became huge sty - and contact lense just wouldnt come out. I did consider waking Anna or Christian to help me... but both of them started work early Saturday morning and I decided a little nap and I would be able to do it myself. Well - that was one of my many STUPID DUMBASS MOMENTS. During the "nap" I must of dug at the thing so badly I scratched the eyeball and by 4 pm Saturday I was very miserable in heaps of pain at the Gladstone Hospital Emergency (Medical Centre GP said best I go up there as he didnt have the real equipment.)
I guess I was rather lucky because a lovely grey haired and bearded GP saw me very quickly - I probably waited ten minutes and was only so antsy because I was in incredible pain. He put a local anesthetic in my eye - and hey presto! Pain Gone. I said "Thanks" and made to clear out. He chuckled and made me sit back down, put some dye in my eye and then looked at it in the... thingo with all the knobs and chinrest for looking into eyes. I said - "But I feel fine now.. thanks heaps" and he said "You wont in a couple of hours". As he prescribed the drops and goey disgusting ointment that makes your eyes all stick together reminiscent of the milkshed cats in your childhood that all had to be put down even though you vowed you would clean all 40 pairs of eyes at both Bellvue and Grandma Metcalfes' house every single day for the rest of your life.....and as the ten year old sobbed in bed at night also vowed to pay for any cat with conjunctavitis as soon as you could earn money! Wow - I so haven't kept some childhood vows huh?
Waffled again. Where was I?
Right - well lucky for me you cant take the boy out of Woodridge but you cannot take the Woodridge out of the boy. And Christian noticed that he had only used a few drops of the local anesthetic and so he quietly told me to pocket the rest safetly into my handbag. Thank Heavens he did. Later that night the agony was back and we just used one drop at a time. By Sunday it was still painful but not the cry out load painful of Saturday and Saturday night. But oh - when that GP put that magic stuff in my eyes I was so so in awe of his genius! He told me to come back Sunday and that he thought it wasnt deep just big and would cure quickly.
We had the soccer break up Sunday and I figured I would be a dutiful Mother and make an appearance. William is on the right in red t-shirt and he FINALLY got a kid in his team shorter than him! He was so pleased.. or I was? One of the two) When I realised M and K were imbibing I thought a little self medication couldnt hurt me under the circumstances and all. So - next thing I have stayed to the end of the show, presentation, rides and AGM (I hid - I wasnt drunk enough to want to figure out how to coordinate a rooster)and we are all back at my house with the 9 children, only Christian could drive and Jane had to be delivered to the train station back to boarding school.
William got "Most improved player" and was so excited with his three trophies. Junk food dinner was a perfect ending, so.............
We fed the kids cheerios and dim sims for dinner (healthy huh? gawd) and we munched on cheese and crackers and continued to get louder and more funny. Well we thought we were.
My eye is healing but today has been the first day I can look at the computer (and I am wearing sunglasses inside) - I can't watch tv, I can't read, I am bored to death - I dont think it is safe for me to drive so I am not. I look hideous - and not hideous funny - just hideous. Yesterday I just spent the whole day either in bed or on the sofa miserable. Christian is working away at Moura so I cant nag him to amuse me.
I cut out (very badly) some emails and posted some pictures into a scrap book today for my kids in the future. I have kept letters, pictures and cards in some drawers for some time. I tried to make it all neat and somehow in order - from both my deceased Aunts and my living ones. I will have to make a few... because my parents divorce was hmm acrimonious and even 30 years later putting the two families stuff in the same album just feels WRONG. I dont have a problem putting our stuff in the same album - the kids, their two fathers and one step father just never were allowed to fight too much.
Hopefully tomorrow I will be 100% better, and the glasses can come off. A good nights sleep is what I need - and I am surprised at how much I miss checking my favourite blogs.
When I was getting ready to go to dinner and putting them in I noticed I had a very small sty.. stye.. sti? wait I have to look that up dammit. Sty ok. Same as pig pen. That HARDLY seems right. Anyway.
Anyway - I figured we wont be out long anyway and it is only tiny. By the time I lay on the sofa small sty had became huge sty - and contact lense just wouldnt come out. I did consider waking Anna or Christian to help me... but both of them started work early Saturday morning and I decided a little nap and I would be able to do it myself. Well - that was one of my many STUPID DUMBASS MOMENTS. During the "nap" I must of dug at the thing so badly I scratched the eyeball and by 4 pm Saturday I was very miserable in heaps of pain at the Gladstone Hospital Emergency (Medical Centre GP said best I go up there as he didnt have the real equipment.)
I guess I was rather lucky because a lovely grey haired and bearded GP saw me very quickly - I probably waited ten minutes and was only so antsy because I was in incredible pain. He put a local anesthetic in my eye - and hey presto! Pain Gone. I said "Thanks" and made to clear out. He chuckled and made me sit back down, put some dye in my eye and then looked at it in the... thingo with all the knobs and chinrest for looking into eyes. I said - "But I feel fine now.. thanks heaps" and he said "You wont in a couple of hours". As he prescribed the drops and goey disgusting ointment that makes your eyes all stick together reminiscent of the milkshed cats in your childhood that all had to be put down even though you vowed you would clean all 40 pairs of eyes at both Bellvue and Grandma Metcalfes' house every single day for the rest of your life.....and as the ten year old sobbed in bed at night also vowed to pay for any cat with conjunctavitis as soon as you could earn money! Wow - I so haven't kept some childhood vows huh?
Waffled again. Where was I?
Right - well lucky for me you cant take the boy out of Woodridge but you cannot take the Woodridge out of the boy. And Christian noticed that he had only used a few drops of the local anesthetic and so he quietly told me to pocket the rest safetly into my handbag. Thank Heavens he did. Later that night the agony was back and we just used one drop at a time. By Sunday it was still painful but not the cry out load painful of Saturday and Saturday night. But oh - when that GP put that magic stuff in my eyes I was so so in awe of his genius! He told me to come back Sunday and that he thought it wasnt deep just big and would cure quickly.
We had the soccer break up Sunday and I figured I would be a dutiful Mother and make an appearance. William is on the right in red t-shirt and he FINALLY got a kid in his team shorter than him! He was so pleased.. or I was? One of the two) When I realised M and K were imbibing I thought a little self medication couldnt hurt me under the circumstances and all. So - next thing I have stayed to the end of the show, presentation, rides and AGM (I hid - I wasnt drunk enough to want to figure out how to coordinate a rooster)and we are all back at my house with the 9 children, only Christian could drive and Jane had to be delivered to the train station back to boarding school.
William got "Most improved player" and was so excited with his three trophies. Junk food dinner was a perfect ending, so.............We fed the kids cheerios and dim sims for dinner (healthy huh? gawd) and we munched on cheese and crackers and continued to get louder and more funny. Well we thought we were.
My eye is healing but today has been the first day I can look at the computer (and I am wearing sunglasses inside) - I can't watch tv, I can't read, I am bored to death - I dont think it is safe for me to drive so I am not. I look hideous - and not hideous funny - just hideous. Yesterday I just spent the whole day either in bed or on the sofa miserable. Christian is working away at Moura so I cant nag him to amuse me.
I cut out (very badly) some emails and posted some pictures into a scrap book today for my kids in the future. I have kept letters, pictures and cards in some drawers for some time. I tried to make it all neat and somehow in order - from both my deceased Aunts and my living ones. I will have to make a few... because my parents divorce was hmm acrimonious and even 30 years later putting the two families stuff in the same album just feels WRONG. I dont have a problem putting our stuff in the same album - the kids, their two fathers and one step father just never were allowed to fight too much.
Hopefully tomorrow I will be 100% better, and the glasses can come off. A good nights sleep is what I need - and I am surprised at how much I miss checking my favourite blogs.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Social Butterfly me! What an insane week.
I adore friends and family. But generally I HATE going out. I hate being stuck somewhere I dont want to be. I am nervous about meeting new people. Yeah I know that is a really dodgy editing attempt! Haha - tough it is after 10 pm and I have already drank too many wines. I am protecting the innocent. And I never told them I could use the photos later here. Gorgeous women - but look behind them. Yep - that was the Hen's night with the theme of cowgirls and cocktails.
Yep - Give us a hat, pigtails or plaits and straw in our hair - and we are in costume. I didn't mention karaoke. Oh Lordy! Who ever thought this party up was on a roll. And trust me it was not me who decided to make orgasms and then straight after make harvey wallbangers and grasshoppers. I was having SUCH A LOVELY TIME.I actually said to Christian.. the party starts at four .. so I should be ready to go home at 7.30 - pick me up then.
At 7.15pm (the party was 15 minutes drive from home) I rang and said "Make it 8.30" and ditto at 8.15! Anna came home from work and then dragged me home then when Christian informed her I was drinking cocktails and singing karaoke with her school teachers. Haha.The next morning I woke up so hungry and still drunk, I actually ate Macdonalds because I got too confused in front of the fridge. I wanted Christian to drive me to Agnus Waters because I know there is a restuarant there that does a FABULOUS breakfast... but he knew me better than I know myself and knew I wouldnt last the hour and a half drive and fed me the dreaded chew and spew telling me it was for my own good. Family was very smug and enjoyed my demise as my stomach told me there are reasons I do not go out. Hooray for panadol rapid.
Ok - I know this photo is almost sad! But it is funny - so pfftttt.. That is simply what happens after a bucket of margarita's and a stack of cocktails that do not go with each other. Natty said "Girls look sexy" - I puckered up and Hope fell asleep on my shoulder. Daughter's that still have stamina for parties......... are very beautiful but... a sad sad reminder. You can see right up my nose in that picture. Hey - actually it looks like I am just about to puke. But I didnt! Yay! I had a really good time.There are a dozen tales to tell from that night but I want to remember the entire week so we have to move on.
Ok so Sunday I just recovered very quietly. Very very quietly. And Monday was my closest friend (ie the one I see the most often- I can't bear to rate my friends)birthday celebration and I wanted it to be perfect. And wait Sunday ended up not so quiet - because she arrived and commented on how there was no way my painting the house would be finished by Monday. And Anna had told many people "Mum is always starting things and never finishing them" (that is called "artistic license" she just is young that is all)So I painted all afternoon. And it killed me but I painted anyway because they said I wouldn't. Pathetic huh.
I had the last of the second coat finished by 2.45 Monday with no time to spare before M and K's 6 kids arrived for dry time. And then I had to cater for all of us. It all went fine and both M and K said I had ................. oh lol wait.
My friend M seems to have nasty days. I reckon we all have nasty days. Even the sweetest people I know can have nasty moments. But M can have ... more than some. "Careless comments" or "Gatsby moments?" No Gatsby wouldnt be a correct reference. Hmm - well anyway in the same conversation that she said I wouldnt have the house painted in time for her birthday do.. she told how she wrapped many of her engagement etc presents and regave them if she didnt like them.
Christian and I spent four hours - I kid you not - shopping for hers' on Saturday. It was horrible. I love beautiful things too but Christian is the ultimate bower bird. If it is sparkly and pretty he loves it. (Poor sod huh? with me?) I hate shopping. Christian loves shopping. And he is a careless spender. We are shopping for M - not for me and not for him. She has different tastes to me. In the end we chose a gorgeous vase.....golds and browns from a local art gallery.
Well - M said the "if I dont like a present I just rewrap it and give it to the next person I need a gift for!". And I guess I must of done ... nutso melly - because I said ffs dont! Just give it back and I will give you the bloody cash..." Then M noticed a present in the corner of the room and she said.. "did you forget one of Janes' presents?" (Oh crap I meant to blog that too - did I?) And I said "No that one is yours."
Borrowing Ms Fits..... Beat..... Beat....
I suspect I am really advertising why it is not a good idea to be a friend of mine?
Anyway I was happy with the food and the table setting and everything Monday night EXCEPT M and K laughed at my insecurities about such matters.......... so I felt like a right twit... and right now after... hmm forgot count... wines I dont really care.
Tonight we went out AGAIN! Can you believe it? With lovely friends who I suspect made a very big effort to converse with Christian (who could really be interested in new subdivisions- I mean I only pretend to listen for the sake of harmony)but he enjoyed himself.... and so did I...Was another K's birthday this week - gorgeous woman who doesnt seem to know how gorgeous...Christian fell asleep on the sofa and only woke to say "what..what" when I moved my next project from under him... I have some fantastic ideas for christmas decorations I want to start soon.
I really want work to call me in so I can stop messing with things that dont want to be messed with.
And Peter Brock is dead. What an amazing week. Steve, Colin, Don Chipp and Peter Brock.
I just smashed the absolute last glass of any set I own. I reckon that means its time for me to get to bed or at least do something on the sofa where I cannot knock over anything important.
Cheerio!
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Steve Irwin - an unqualified view
I was just reading a few posts about the tragic and untimely death of Steve Irwin. (Jam the GG arguements or any similar - 44 is about as fucking untimely as you can get)
A few hours after we found out Steve was dead (via text message if you please? We were texted with "Did you know Steve Irwin is dead". Every word was spelt wrong - it came via Anna's (15 years)phone.)We were at the fish market picking up supplies for a special supper for my girlfriends birthday. The whole shop started talking about it.
I can confess to being a "knocker" of Steve's. That is simply because he was alive and whilst alive in Australia it is perfectly acceptable and very often appropriate for moments of humour, wit and our comfortable bad taste. Especially if you are in the spotlight - the tall poppy syndrome. It is simply part of our culture. Also he once said Little Johnny was the greatest leader in Australia and then REALLY got carried away and said the world. (Buggared if I can find the link to that now but it was truly vomit stuff) I will probably knock you if I hear you support Little Johnny just because I can.
When we had cable tv, "The Crocodile Hunter" was played rather persistantly. One blog I read mentioned that here in Australia we didnt see all that much - that lovely person probably didnt have small children to amuse. I went through a brief (manic) time of insisting my children only watch "Discovery Channel" "National Geographic" "The History Channel" etc.... mostly because had I let my wee ones they would of watched cartoons all day every day, and the very first time one of my kids told me to "eat my shorts" led to a short obsession with censorship that I invariably lost control of.
Anyhoo - (I can waffle hey?) My personal experience of that was that ole Stevie boy showed my kids how to milk cane toads on tv. How to gently squeeze the thingo's (I should of been watch the show too hey?) glands on the top of their head and the white stuff that came out was the poison. I had long stopped being afraid of cane toads, because I have seen my girls dress them in dolls clothes and place them in the cabbage patch clothes dolls pram (said cabbage patch doll turfed out face down in the lawn) and drag them around. Said cane toads would not mind this .. interaction for a while and then the bastards would escape and I would have teary girls who had lost their "babies". The cat and dog dried food attracted the damn toads. It is also very funny when you are six to throw a cane toad near your mother and ask her to kiss the "baby". Sadly I was the mother. But even I had engaging moments where you realise the toad is enjoying being stroked. We used a hell of a lot of dettol those days - but in the same sentence we also had to wash all the dettol of because it really made the toads suffer.
And my Jane... took to said "milking" task with great gusto - and until I asked her older sister why she had asked me for a jar I had NO IDEA WHAT SHE WAS BLOODY DOING!
Same year Jane also downloaded instructions for building home made bombs and printed them and I knew nothing about that until the school rang me to come in. Actually same year of what Jane did would take a novel. But she was right into anything ... hmmm experimental? It usually called for me having to apologise to other parents, teachers and children.
So I would knock him.. in the ocker way. No malice just "what a bastard!". Germaine Geers' horrible diatribe doesn't (to me) qualify under that kind of thing. I found this comment so very distasteful. "You can just imagine Irwin yelling: "Just look at these beauties! Crikey! With those barbs a stingray can kill a horse!" (Yes, Steve, but a stingray doesn't want to kill a horse. It eats crustaceans, for God's sake.)"
She mentions when a bird tore at his nose and the bird having more brains than a croc. Heavens - we all roared laughing when the bearded dragon bit his nose. And when the croc came very close to his genitals. We do the same when other Aussie adventurers have similar misadventures. Hell - I do it when my own kids get bitten by a lizard, cricket (I kid you not) or a fish. My finicky daughter the day a leech attached itself to her hand. Now - it was FUNNY!You know they had a small amount of pain and that isnt what you are laughing at but it is damn funny to see this stuff. Read Jellyfishes blog about the kid with the leech in his mouth. It simply is FUNNY.
"Just hold the critter there while Mummy gets the camera and do that again!" (They rarely oblige sadly)
I cant help myself I watch Malcolm Douglas because aside from any of the beautiful views, lovely animals I am waiting for him to bog himself hopelessly, or his dog to pinch the beautiful fish he just caught and yes I am waiting for him to hook himself on his home made lures. And - because part of their job is showman... he does! Hooray!
It is just astounding how venomous people can be.
I always try not to visit Tim Blair's blog. It is like a curiousity of something ghastly. A train wreck? Follow the link to the comments. But I did when I read Pavlov's Cat. I wish I didnt. (Not read her blog I mean - I love that - I mean follow the links) It then becomes like a stoning from "The Holy Grail".
Steve's death shocked me profoundly because I really never imagined a sting ray would kill you. Never. Maybe a small child or an elderly person. We often see sting rays and marvel in their incredible beauty. I have stood and watched them swim past me as I wait for my rod to tug and see them swim past me so close. And never did I feel scared. When we are fishing in the shallows in the boat and they swim past and are interested in our bait or what is struggling in the water that we have caught. And how close they are to me and how I have put my hand in the water to be closer and watch them watch me.
Once - only once did I have fear and that was when Maggie our Kelpie fishing mad dog went insane because Christian had one on the fishing line and she was being an absolute lunatic at the wonderful big hunting catch we had. I begged Christian to cut the line... and the line broke itself... and we fetched Maggie out of the water..... everyone safe. I almost stood on one accidently whiting fishing at Caloundra and Christian knocked me over backwards. I got up to abuse him - I had a fish and was stepping forward to get it and had almost stood on a very large one just sitting in his/her sand hole. I had to apologise then.. standing on one wouldnt be wise. But being near them never worried me. As a matter of fact their presence was always one of the most wonderful things for me and with the water.
I think Germaine Greers comment he "As a Melbourne boy, Irwin should have had a healthy respect for stingrays, which are actually commoner, and bigger, in southern waters than they are near Port Douglas," were a little bit lost. Dementia? He left Melbourne as a 6 year old and attended Caloundra High School? How are you a "Melbourne Boy" when the majority of your life was spent somewhere completely different? Ask your teenager of their memories under 6. I wonder why GG would assume he would assimilate himself as a "Melbourne boy"? Maybe she just has better booze and drugs than the rest of us! (Notwithstanding I really didnt like the horrible bully banter of Tim Blair's followers.)
My partner works 10 hour days in heat - never cold just heat. Even our winters are a lovely 24 C during the day but down a hole its a hell of a lot hotter. When he comes home he does an odd thing - he yells at the tv and the current affairs programs. It sometimes alarms me and the kids. He doesnt think he is yelling. He wears ear plugs all day - and he thinks he is just talking. It isnt a characteristic just of his - the children and I notice their father does the exact same thing. For some odd reason if something annoys them on the tv they yell some absolute rubbish and we all flee... because we think they must be cranky.
They are not - they just do this odd thing. And the first thing Christian heard was the reaction to GG. I said to him "She is actually a smart and witty woman who has certainly contributed to modern society BUT the way she makes money is she stirs up shit - and that is how she gets paid" or in similar words but with more swearing because he was yelling very loud and none of the kids, dogs or me like it if anyone yells. He wisely told me in a quiet voice - "when I have to stir up shit" (he means literally as in a sewer line problem) "all you do is yell at me."
Point taken he was quite right. I do.
My mother emailed me on how sad Steve Irwins passing was. And a Canadian chat friend asked me if I could post him the Australian news articles on the incident - which of course I can. Within hours of his death.
I loved what Pavlov's Cat did with Colin Theile, Don Chipp and Steve. I so seriously should pay attention to the news. I cried at Colin's death and I only read about it at PC's and then went and searched it. I still feed pelicans and fuck anyone who says I cant. THEY at least have always scared the shit out of me if I didnt. I know to respect them because aside from loving "Storm Boy" I know a 6 foot wing span squarking at me will make me let them have whatever they want. Eh - see here.. Colin allowed me to survive motherhood. I know what to be scared of! Kids were easy going - just hard work.
I honestly never knew sting rays kill you. I figured they are just pleasant creatures who get mighty cranky if you catch them and seeing we fish on light line almost always break free. I have eaten them once that I know of. And bloody nice too.
I read all the stuff about calling them slimy to touch. I didnt find them slimy to touch just smooth? And as to the "Dr Meridith... knowing Steve?" you can know anybody and not say what they did minutes before they died?
Steve said and did many things I disagreed with. But he did a hell of a lot more that I so approved of. And he wasnt some half assed twit that just did the minimum ... he stuck his head out. Dont trust your governments to buy land to save animals. It is your wealthy that will do it. To the twits that say there should be no private santuarys... may Harriet bite your ass in your sleep.
Above all - he loved his family and his animals. It is impossible for me to hate any man who can do that.
A few hours after we found out Steve was dead (via text message if you please? We were texted with "Did you know Steve Irwin is dead". Every word was spelt wrong - it came via Anna's (15 years)phone.)We were at the fish market picking up supplies for a special supper for my girlfriends birthday. The whole shop started talking about it.
I can confess to being a "knocker" of Steve's. That is simply because he was alive and whilst alive in Australia it is perfectly acceptable and very often appropriate for moments of humour, wit and our comfortable bad taste. Especially if you are in the spotlight - the tall poppy syndrome. It is simply part of our culture. Also he once said Little Johnny was the greatest leader in Australia and then REALLY got carried away and said the world. (Buggared if I can find the link to that now but it was truly vomit stuff) I will probably knock you if I hear you support Little Johnny just because I can.
When we had cable tv, "The Crocodile Hunter" was played rather persistantly. One blog I read mentioned that here in Australia we didnt see all that much - that lovely person probably didnt have small children to amuse. I went through a brief (manic) time of insisting my children only watch "Discovery Channel" "National Geographic" "The History Channel" etc.... mostly because had I let my wee ones they would of watched cartoons all day every day, and the very first time one of my kids told me to "eat my shorts" led to a short obsession with censorship that I invariably lost control of.
Anyhoo - (I can waffle hey?) My personal experience of that was that ole Stevie boy showed my kids how to milk cane toads on tv. How to gently squeeze the thingo's (I should of been watch the show too hey?) glands on the top of their head and the white stuff that came out was the poison. I had long stopped being afraid of cane toads, because I have seen my girls dress them in dolls clothes and place them in the cabbage patch clothes dolls pram (said cabbage patch doll turfed out face down in the lawn) and drag them around. Said cane toads would not mind this .. interaction for a while and then the bastards would escape and I would have teary girls who had lost their "babies". The cat and dog dried food attracted the damn toads. It is also very funny when you are six to throw a cane toad near your mother and ask her to kiss the "baby". Sadly I was the mother. But even I had engaging moments where you realise the toad is enjoying being stroked. We used a hell of a lot of dettol those days - but in the same sentence we also had to wash all the dettol of because it really made the toads suffer.
And my Jane... took to said "milking" task with great gusto - and until I asked her older sister why she had asked me for a jar I had NO IDEA WHAT SHE WAS BLOODY DOING!
Same year Jane also downloaded instructions for building home made bombs and printed them and I knew nothing about that until the school rang me to come in. Actually same year of what Jane did would take a novel. But she was right into anything ... hmmm experimental? It usually called for me having to apologise to other parents, teachers and children.
So I would knock him.. in the ocker way. No malice just "what a bastard!". Germaine Geers' horrible diatribe doesn't (to me) qualify under that kind of thing. I found this comment so very distasteful. "You can just imagine Irwin yelling: "Just look at these beauties! Crikey! With those barbs a stingray can kill a horse!" (Yes, Steve, but a stingray doesn't want to kill a horse. It eats crustaceans, for God's sake.)"
She mentions when a bird tore at his nose and the bird having more brains than a croc. Heavens - we all roared laughing when the bearded dragon bit his nose. And when the croc came very close to his genitals. We do the same when other Aussie adventurers have similar misadventures. Hell - I do it when my own kids get bitten by a lizard, cricket (I kid you not) or a fish. My finicky daughter the day a leech attached itself to her hand. Now - it was FUNNY!You know they had a small amount of pain and that isnt what you are laughing at but it is damn funny to see this stuff. Read Jellyfishes blog about the kid with the leech in his mouth. It simply is FUNNY.
"Just hold the critter there while Mummy gets the camera and do that again!" (They rarely oblige sadly)
I cant help myself I watch Malcolm Douglas because aside from any of the beautiful views, lovely animals I am waiting for him to bog himself hopelessly, or his dog to pinch the beautiful fish he just caught and yes I am waiting for him to hook himself on his home made lures. And - because part of their job is showman... he does! Hooray!
It is just astounding how venomous people can be.
I always try not to visit Tim Blair's blog. It is like a curiousity of something ghastly. A train wreck? Follow the link to the comments. But I did when I read Pavlov's Cat. I wish I didnt. (Not read her blog I mean - I love that - I mean follow the links) It then becomes like a stoning from "The Holy Grail".
Steve's death shocked me profoundly because I really never imagined a sting ray would kill you. Never. Maybe a small child or an elderly person. We often see sting rays and marvel in their incredible beauty. I have stood and watched them swim past me as I wait for my rod to tug and see them swim past me so close. And never did I feel scared. When we are fishing in the shallows in the boat and they swim past and are interested in our bait or what is struggling in the water that we have caught. And how close they are to me and how I have put my hand in the water to be closer and watch them watch me.
Once - only once did I have fear and that was when Maggie our Kelpie fishing mad dog went insane because Christian had one on the fishing line and she was being an absolute lunatic at the wonderful big hunting catch we had. I begged Christian to cut the line... and the line broke itself... and we fetched Maggie out of the water..... everyone safe. I almost stood on one accidently whiting fishing at Caloundra and Christian knocked me over backwards. I got up to abuse him - I had a fish and was stepping forward to get it and had almost stood on a very large one just sitting in his/her sand hole. I had to apologise then.. standing on one wouldnt be wise. But being near them never worried me. As a matter of fact their presence was always one of the most wonderful things for me and with the water.
I think Germaine Greers comment he "As a Melbourne boy, Irwin should have had a healthy respect for stingrays, which are actually commoner, and bigger, in southern waters than they are near Port Douglas," were a little bit lost. Dementia? He left Melbourne as a 6 year old and attended Caloundra High School? How are you a "Melbourne Boy" when the majority of your life was spent somewhere completely different? Ask your teenager of their memories under 6. I wonder why GG would assume he would assimilate himself as a "Melbourne boy"? Maybe she just has better booze and drugs than the rest of us! (Notwithstanding I really didnt like the horrible bully banter of Tim Blair's followers.)
My partner works 10 hour days in heat - never cold just heat. Even our winters are a lovely 24 C during the day but down a hole its a hell of a lot hotter. When he comes home he does an odd thing - he yells at the tv and the current affairs programs. It sometimes alarms me and the kids. He doesnt think he is yelling. He wears ear plugs all day - and he thinks he is just talking. It isnt a characteristic just of his - the children and I notice their father does the exact same thing. For some odd reason if something annoys them on the tv they yell some absolute rubbish and we all flee... because we think they must be cranky.
They are not - they just do this odd thing. And the first thing Christian heard was the reaction to GG. I said to him "She is actually a smart and witty woman who has certainly contributed to modern society BUT the way she makes money is she stirs up shit - and that is how she gets paid" or in similar words but with more swearing because he was yelling very loud and none of the kids, dogs or me like it if anyone yells. He wisely told me in a quiet voice - "when I have to stir up shit" (he means literally as in a sewer line problem) "all you do is yell at me."
Point taken he was quite right. I do.
My mother emailed me on how sad Steve Irwins passing was. And a Canadian chat friend asked me if I could post him the Australian news articles on the incident - which of course I can. Within hours of his death.
I loved what Pavlov's Cat did with Colin Theile, Don Chipp and Steve. I so seriously should pay attention to the news. I cried at Colin's death and I only read about it at PC's and then went and searched it. I still feed pelicans and fuck anyone who says I cant. THEY at least have always scared the shit out of me if I didnt. I know to respect them because aside from loving "Storm Boy" I know a 6 foot wing span squarking at me will make me let them have whatever they want. Eh - see here.. Colin allowed me to survive motherhood. I know what to be scared of! Kids were easy going - just hard work.
I honestly never knew sting rays kill you. I figured they are just pleasant creatures who get mighty cranky if you catch them and seeing we fish on light line almost always break free. I have eaten them once that I know of. And bloody nice too.
I read all the stuff about calling them slimy to touch. I didnt find them slimy to touch just smooth? And as to the "Dr Meridith... knowing Steve?" you can know anybody and not say what they did minutes before they died?
Steve said and did many things I disagreed with. But he did a hell of a lot more that I so approved of. And he wasnt some half assed twit that just did the minimum ... he stuck his head out. Dont trust your governments to buy land to save animals. It is your wealthy that will do it. To the twits that say there should be no private santuarys... may Harriet bite your ass in your sleep.
Above all - he loved his family and his animals. It is impossible for me to hate any man who can do that.
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