Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Did you know....oh, of course you did!

Hellooooo, chickadees, I haven't fallen off the edge of the earth (stop groaning!).
I've posted off the last winners' books, am contemplating running away to Dunolly for the year month week weekend day as it feels like 'home' but first I'm itching to read a couple of new/old books I picked up in the Lions Club of Oakleigh Op Shop in Murrumbeena this morning.

If you haven't noticed I've fired up the old Oz Reading Matters book review blog in the past few weeks as I'm reviewing audiobooks as well as the old faithful printed sort.
Suddenly realised there was a few decent books I'd read and forgotten to review or ones that I wanted to read.
So, parking my arse on thebastardthing aka the exercise bike and romping through these tomes is a piece of cake.
Plus it distracts me from the fact my well-padded 3 axe handles wide bum has gone numb from the bike seat from hell, proving I'm not as well-padded as I thought!
First off the rank is Send The Boy To Sea: The memoirs of a Sailor on The Goldfields.
With a blurb that reads

"After committing sundry rows and breaches of the peace such as blowing up the seat of the privy and bringing rum to school in cocoanuts...I got expelled and sent to my Guardian, Mr Hay."

How could you possibly go past that promise of fun!
James already appeals to my wicked sense of humour, I think I'm going to enjoy reading his exploits.
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If you've wandered about the Monash area lately you may have noticed the delightfully UNmanicured grass verges, nature strips, parks, etc.
This is due to industrial action involving work bans.
The grass is so long in some areas they'll be able to get a hay baler in and sell it to farmers for stock feed.
Although, I must say we were surprised to find that the gum tree that had lain across the rail trail  footpath from Oakleigh to Hughesdale for weeks had been chopped up and piled away from the thoroughfare.
We're just waiting to see how many snakes move in and take up residence in the area...a little more biodiversity to keep us stupid pink monkeys on our toes.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Multiple Aussie Book Give Away Winners are........

Winner of the first duo of books is Red.
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Winner of the second duo of books is River.
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Winner of the third book duo is Cazzie.
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I've got Red and River's details, just shoot me an email to ourgreatsouthernland at gmail dot com with your postal bits, Cazzie, and I'll pop the books in the post asap.

For those interested (and in the area) Oakleigh and District Historical Society currently have a Military History Society exhibition showing at the Monash Federation Centre, "Saluting Their Service" displaying the details of those boys who joined up from the Oakleigh district for WW1.
There is also a new publication on these boys titled "Fallen Leaves" available for sale.

Waverley Historical Society also has a new publication for sale "Then and Now - A Pictorial History of The City of Monash" .

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

The winner is.....some time thieving mongrel who swiped my day

Don't panic, the mutiple book give away will be sorted and winners announced soon.
Just as soon as the judges who go "eeny, meeny, miny, mo" get back from the orthodontist (who is reconstructing feral kid's braces which came adrift from his tooth).
Maybe just as soon as we get back from early voting this morning (for pollies who are deconstructing the state at a rapid rate of knots).
And just as soon as we get back from the psychologist this arvo (who is reconstructing feral kids brain).
Perhaps right after the GP appointment for feral kid's foot this evening (who will reconstruct the movements of the orchestra as he exercises his inner surgeon and excises the growths).
......
And can I just say that the Democratic Labor Party letterbox leaflet was gold.
How many new voters have not the foggiest what these tools spout or represent and blindly tick the box to get 'em over the line?
The drivel promised "To uphold the right of marriage between one man and one woman" and the gem I loved "to uphold children's rights to be raised by their biological parents".
(or words to that effect)
Ahuh.
Too bad if the drug-addled, metho-drinking scum of the earth can't string a sentence together or beats the kids senseless six ways from Sunday, they got RIGHTS to be raised by their biological units!
And, really? Marriage between one man and one woman?
Seriously?!
Getthefuckouttahere.
And to think science teaches us dinosaurs are extinct, how wrong could they be?!
So, I trotted over to have a good gander at who's running in the circus in this neck of the woods and, LO! There's someone trying to keep the bastards honest.
An Aussie Democrat.
Not many Aussie Democrats about but there's still life in the old beast yet.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Multiple Aussie Book give away

Hear ye, hear ye, The Evil She Devil Cow has gone com-plete-ly mad.
He he, yeah, gotta love family nicknames, eh?
Guess who's not getting his pocket money this week?
*snort*
So, anyway, this old girl is getting tired of the piles of doubles on the dining table cos there's this thing called Xmas galloping up shortly and we don't do traditional roast meats with baked vegies, mint sauce, apple sauce, gravy, cheese sauce, white sauce, mustard, crackers, umpteen tablecloths, napkin rings and silver service on our laps.
I neeeeeeeed that table cleared.
Hence the groups of books, who promise not to argue on your bookshelves!

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These are joined at the hip as they're by the same authors.
Rough As Guts and Dinkum Dunnies are both photographic collections; the first being of various snapshots around Oz while the other is a humourous take on the poor, misunderstood outhouse.

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The Australian Legend is a classic in trying to describe and pin down the elusive Australian character while Bill Wannan offered up 170 years of a great collection of humourous Aussie tales.


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This collection of short stories will sit demurely beside Eleanor Dark's novel The Timeless Land which is a fictional account of the European settlement of Oz.

The Winners are......

Andrew won this little tome from the ever chuckle-worthy Steele Rudd....

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...and Lavenderbay won this Nancy Cato book.
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Send me an email with your postal details and I'll pop it into the post asap :)

There are multiple book give aways coming up this arvo!

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Double up give away and even more drivel

Have convinced He Who Snores to join me on the Weigh It Up challenge with much fussing and blathering on his behalf but I think my recent birthday made him realise we're getting a tad too tubby for our age *snort*
Will expect more grumblings but I'm sure I can stuff his mouth with a bit of salad.

The feral kidlet has been having a ball reading about NZ as part of his culture studies, reveling in the science and natural history parts, of course lol.
Has asked (jokingly) if I'd let him have a pet Moa....yeah, sure, kid!

We'd love to learn more about hubby's great grandmother but, unfortunately, her birth was registered under her Indigenous name and she kept silent on a great deal of her childhood and upbringing.
It was very dangerous for her to know or meet her father and brothers, as she did in her later life, and even in her old age she told her grandchildren that it had to be kept a secret.
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She did say she'd spent the better part of her childhood on her hands and knees 'scrubbing floors before daybreak for white people' but little else.

Today I found some more doubled up books so I'm giving away two at a time;
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Steele Rudd's On An Australian Farm and

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Marigold by great Aussie author Nancy Cato (author of All The River's Run)

Just throw a comment in and have a chance.

Congrats to Watershedd who won the eeny meeny miny mo challenge of selection for the book.
Send me an email to ourgreatsouthernland at gmail dot com with your postal details and I'll shoot it off to you asap ;)
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Tuesday, November 16, 2010

On This Day in History and next Aussie book give away

 1840 New Zealand grewed up when Letters Patent were issued making it a British Colony on its own, no longer a part of NSW.
Party, party, party!

The next Aussie book give away will be this fabulous, fabulous, fabulous autobiography Pieces of Blue.
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The author's father took them all over Australia from when she was aged 12, droving and horse breaking, working as a station hand, gardener you-name-it and they did it.
Just chuck a comment in the box to be in the running.

1888 The murderer of Western Australian Indigenous man Marabool, Michael Griffin, was arrested on this day and was later tried but acquitted.
 
1920 The Queensland and Northern Territory Air Service was founded on this day by P.J McGuinness and Hudson Fysh.
Better known these days as QANTAS.

Well, as I wasn't looking forward to being chased off the beaches by Greenpeace this summer I joined the Weigh It Up weight loss thingie.
Let's hope there will be one less mistaken whale beaching emergency call this year....

Monday, November 15, 2010

I give you *drum roll* Bladdy blah with a sprinkling of prattle, topped by a dollop of blather

Have been rooting through the family history stuff for one of hubby's cousins and found a photo of his great grandmother.
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Isn't she beautiful?!

Bush Babe won the Aussie book give away, Stories of Old Australia will be winging its way up to QLD shortly!
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I took Debby's advice and let a machine!!!!!!!!! do the washing *shock!* *horror!* *gasp!* and I don't feel the least bit guilty lol.
And I'm loving the empty wash basket bigtime *snort*

I've indulged a little and made 2 variations on the old favourite Choc Ripple Log for Dad - I used Gingernuts in one and choc chip cookies in the other, slathered the whipped cream all over, then flung them into the fridge.
Going by the tester I made the other day for Dad (which didn't touch the sides) I'm on a winner.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Medical diagnosis - I'm knackered

I am knackered.
I'm supposed to go chasing blood samples to get taken from Dad to get stored for later testing for genetic cancer (cos, of course, as a finale the dipshits at the hospital did NOT phone pathology to get the bloods done as promised) and we're still no clearer on where the possible cancer might be.
But I'm knackered.
Dad needs supervision walking, showering, dressing and sometimes feeding himself which can be more tiring than doing it for him.
I have to make his food and encourage him with every.single. meal and snack - smother anything in cream and he'll eat it, is one trick I've found.
And I'm knackered.
I wash everything by hand - yes, my stupid choice - and the laundry pile has grown into a major mountain or it could if I didn't wash every day.
Earth's Choice laundry powder with a squirt of Earth's Choice dishwashing liquid concentrate really does the job - cuts out the smell, leaves it clean and fresh and my laundry doesn't smell like the fish markets, plus the grey water goes out onto our lawn and doesn't create a HazChem spill.
I am knackered.
I contacted a 'long lost' cousin last year and opened a nasty can of worms - when someone says "oh yes, I want to know all about the family tree"  that actually means "So long as you don't dare tell me there might be Indigenous ancestry" - which results in a rude, childish email cutting all further contact and further mouthfuls of abuse from another cousin at myself and my ill father.
I am knackered.
I gave up smoking but replaced it with eating and am a bajillion kilos overweight, (not that I was a slip of a thing to start with) and the fluid retention has come galloping back with the heat.
I'm knackered.
My darling daughter attemtped suicide almost 5 years ago, she's been up and down emotionally (suspected bi polar) while we've been walking on eggshells and trying to help her anyway we can, biting our tongues until she threw a major tantrum and hasn't been in touch for some months.
I am knackered.
I have a squillion heirloom tomatoes and vegie seedlings burbling along quite merrily but now the dreaded locust is hitting Melbourne so the Spouse and I had to trot about in the rain and dark spreading a net over them all last night which is nothing compared to the locust plague facing farmers.
I'm trying to do at least 2 hours per day on thebastardthing aka the exercise bike but it's not making much impact.
Depressed?
Probably.
But I'm too knackered to do anything at the moment.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Floggin'

Tis Friday!!!
POETS Day (Piss Off Early Tomorrow's Saturday) yada, yada, yada.
We've been moving furniture all over the house - alright, The Spouse has been shifting the furniture while I supervise and yell 'helpful' instructions.
And, while this was going on my computer kept shutting itself down...actually, just plain crashing.
I miss the Blue Screen of Death...with this one I get zip, just a black screen.
Anywho, I've been battling to get this mofo working long enough to post this blather and I'd forgotten what day it was.
See?
I couldn't possibly tackle writing a novel if I don't know what day it is *rolls eyes at self.

As Kiwi Nomad put her foot down and said Nay to the book giveaway I'm re-offering this collection of Stories of Old Australia.

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Just throw a comment or three at me and we're away!

rrsahm
The Rules.

1. Follow my blog, the Random Ramblings of a SAHM. I never seem to get to reading all the links here. But believe me, I try. Not that any of this is my idea anyway- FYBF is MummyTime's brainbaby. I stole it.
2. Grab the bubbly button and post it on your sidebar.
3. Link your First Name and/or Blog Name and URL of your post or blog.
4. Add a short description (max of 125 chars). It could be a description of yourself, your blog or a teaser to your latest post. .
5. Follow at least 1 linkyer/blogger (Be nice and spread the love).
6. The list will be open for linkyers on Fridays (and for the foreigners Friday as well).
7. A new and fresh link list will open every Friday. And you will have to link up AGAIN. The previous link list does not carry over to the following week.
8. And lastly, have lotsa fun. I mean it. If I detect anyone not totally loving the awesomeness, I will bump you off the linky list. (Joking) (Kinda).

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Man; screws with Mother Nature

Yeah, yeah, she's on her soap box yet again.
Pfft, like that's something new *rolls eyes*.
So.
We gets these uber-cute brand-spanking-new dolphins, a totally new breed, and do we give them mega protection?
No.
Do we leave their habitat alone?
No.
Do we postpone/cancel all the planned building projects which will disturb them greatly?
Don't be silly!
This super sweet Snubfin Dolphin is so fragile anyone dumping cat crap into drains could cause their deaths.
But, whoa! They'd be fine with  coastal development and dredging... won't they?


In other news.....
I'll be giving away more Aussie books, as I'm far too brain dead and knackered to write anything that resembles a novel or duck vomit.
Cos duck vomit is pretty gross....but full of hieroglyphs.
Like our alphabet.

And can I just say my Dad watches The Circle Every.Single.morning and laughs so much he pees himself.
Wait...that might be his incontinence.
But, nevermind, he gets a kick out of the 4 girls, particularly Denise Drysdale and woe betide anyone who disturbs his viewing pleasure.
I'd like to announce I have no affiliation or relative working on The Circle, the girls have not paid me to promote the show and my father really does giggle.
A lot.

When half finished novels go bad...

NaNoWriMo has been left to languish , or rather my sad effort at writing is stuck somewhere in Microsoft Word limbo on the desktop, sullenly glaring at me everytime I turn the computer on, mooning me at the first opportunity, hacking my Facebook account to post exaggerated statements about my pole dancing proclivities, telling the world I'm a high priced hooker with a certificate in whip cracking and bondage application.
It's only an Appreciation Certificate, after all.
Yes, we're not on speaking terms and there's a distinct possibility we'll be ignoring each other for Xmas, too.
In other riveting news....um....nothing. 

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Look out, she's been pondering bullshit again

Fen left a comment, on a previous post, about how the racist pricks are depressing.
Yes, in more ways than one.
Think about it - discrimination depresses the economy, industry and the government.
A racist prattles his/her bullshit into the ears of the next generation teaching them to feel inferior and to fear which spawns hate.
That group of youngsters grow up believing they are under threat from a skin colour other than their own which, they are also brainwashed into believing, is given special treatment by govts and govt agencies.
These youngsters see no reason to try at school, to strive for further education as they think they will be 'discriminated' against in favour of another skin colour.
These kids end up in minimum wage positions or on welfare (some ending up in the criminal justice system), a self-fulling prophecy but blaming their lot in life on a skin colour that has had absolutely no influence in their lives other than the lies they were taught from childhood.
These kids perpetuate the racist lies with their own children who, again, feel no need to chase further education or career goals.
Now, multiply that by a bajillion and you see a drop-off across the country in many university subjects/degrees, creating a vacuum into which international students step, to not only take up the education available but to generate the monies associated with each student attending university.
Some uni subjects are dropped completely, in a bid to entice further international students and to cater for the more popular subjects amongst domestic students, leaving yawning gaps in areas that are only filled by overseas-trained professionals (IE -many archaeology units were dropped in recent years with an exodus of lecturers heading overseas where students were actively encouraged and enrolling as archaeology garners a great deal more sponsorship and grants than here in Oz).
The racism, in various forms, keeps Indigenous kids from striving to chase goals, obviously.
Not only the blatant outright attacking type of racism but the subtle, misleading racism we all read/hear about everyday.
If you present negative images and stories about a person, their family, culture or heritage over and over and over again, day in and day out, under the guise of 'news' or 'statistics' the people involved will come to believe it.
These kids see no role models of their skin colour/culture who have achieved anything beyond basic schooling which underscores the (intentional or otherwise) subtle message of "don't bother trying, don't bother making an effort, don't bother pushing yourself harder, you'll never make anything of yourself, you are in a mould in which you will always stay".
And so...they don't.
Many, like their non-Indigenous counter-parts, have minimum wage positions, are on welfare, over-represented in the criminal justice system and they teach their own children to stick to the tried and true way of life with exaggerated half-truths and myths drummed into them from the media rather than their own families and culture.
Or if one person does go on to further study, a successful career, etc, there are claims they are funded by the tax payer or given an easy academic ride or other misleading lies to not only justify the white under-achiever getting nowhere in life but in a bid to 'bring the black fella back down to size'.

Yes, this is over-simplified as there are many differing instances and influences I haven't included (namely physical abuse) but these above scenarios can be applied to migrants, 'boat people', Indigenous communities, Muslims, the disabled or someone with a funny sounding name.
Racism, intolerance, bigotry, prejudice, bias, antipathy - call it what you will but it's depressing for Every.Single.Person.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

I am the champion, my friends - sing along with me! - we'll go on fighting....til the end....dum de dum

Woohoo, I am rockin' the stove.
Dad is on a fluid restriction in that he's ONLY allowed 1.5 litres per day as he's in chronic renal failure.
Plus he has to put the weight back on that he oh-so-friggin-effortlessly (the-cheeky-sod) lost.
To get the stubborn bastard to eat when he first got home from hospital was a struggle; every meal was 'muck' or 'shit' so I gave in and gave him tinned baby/toddler food.
To suit the toddler tantrums, perhaps?
He loved it.
Threw it down his throat without even touching the sides.
Yeah, it looks soooooooooo great buying up baby food when people know you don't have a baby or toddler in the house and you know they know you're feeding it to your Dad.
Doesn't matter if the dietitcian gave it the thumbs up, it still feels wrong.
So, I've finally got the mix right, making the puree from scratch with vegies and meat, done separately then combined.
Soak the meat in red wine.
Add Moroccan spices.
And a pinch of Sweet Paprika.
With a sprinkling of pepper.
And chicken salt (gathered from the lips of chickens by a 100 vestal virgins in Outer Mongolia by the light of the new moon).
And make certain there's plenty of pumpkin or Sweet Potato - look at the jars of baby food, there's a reason why they're mostly orange coloured.
Because they are Magic.
Not Magik.
Magic.
They rock the puree.
Any toddler could tell you...between tantrums!

Am I ever gonna see your face again? No way, get flucked, fluck off

Was listening to talk back radio late last night when the subject came up about PM Gillard setting up a panel to discuss a referendum to recognise the Indigenous People in the constitution.
You'd have thought she had declared war on non-Indigenous People by the way some of the callers behaved.
One, who kept calling herself "a whitey" (does she call Indigenous People 'blackies' behind their back?) claimed that no Indigenous Person existed as "they aren't full blood like back at the time of settlement", that they didn't have the right to call themselves Indigenous, that she could claim to be Indigenous because she was born in Australia, that Aboriginals weren't really the oldest people because historians had changed the dating of their existence so many times she doubted what they said and that the only real Indigenous People were the Tasmanian Aboriginals "who no longer exist".
My, it's good to see the brain washing and racist rants haven't been wasted on this one, she'd be able to assemble a cross burning in a moment's notice and still launder the sheets in time for cocoa and bed.
Another rang up to prattle pseudo-history facts...facts which were twisted so much my nose twitched at the distinct scent of bigotry and bullshit.
He attempted to peddle the line that "all Aborigines (sic) had the right to vote before the 1967 referendum" -only to varying degrees throughout the states and they certainly were not welcomed at all polling booths nor were they actively encouraged to enroll to vote - in fact it was illegal to encourage Indigenous People to enroll to vote until 1984.
He tried to state "the Indigenous People all had citizenship before the 1967 referendum" - what was written on paper and what was practiced was two very different things; go read or watch the footage of the Australian Freedom Rides and tell me every Indigenous person was free to vote, free to have an opinion, free to mix in town and society without fear of recriminations.
This caller kept droning on in a tired, bored voice just as disgruntled teachers used to fill their class hours back in the day by making a subject so unpalatable that the students fell asleep and left the racism unchallenged,which was a sure sign of a second rate teacher who had no interest in either the subject or the career as a teacher.
This is the sort, also, who throws around the title "Black Armband History" to discredit Indigenous oral history traditions and to whitewash the history of this country.
Dear freaking God, it's a discussion to recognise Indigenous People in the constitution - it's not about giving away land or extra voting rights or more money or an extension to their home or a new roof or a free car.
It's about finally recognising, in the constitution, a group of people who were here before Europeans, regardless of how old or how long they've resided in Oz, no matter when they did or didn't get the right to vote, whether or not some stupid woman was spawned here or in a bathtub in the Outer Hebrides.
Is that so difficult for racist redneck dropkicks to get their head around?
Do they see/hear the word 'Indigenous' and slip their mouths into auto-pilot to blather their brand of bullshit without thought, respect or acknowledging what the actual subject is?
Dear redneck fuckwits - please don't let the door slap you on the arse as you leave our shores.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Shaved my legs this morning

Aren't you just squealing with delight at the thought?
Yeah, about as excited as my overly-blunt razor was, too.
Did the usual slice 'n' dice around the sticky-out-bits of the ankle, briefly turned the bathroom into a recreation from Psycho *cue the music* then thought better of venturing up near the knee joint with a piece of metal that could probably hack Sydney Harbour Bridge to bits but is incapable of lopping small, single hairs.
Have not added to The Novel for NaNoWriMo - re-read what I'd pecked out and found it as boring as batshit (and let me assure you, batshit is incredibly boring) so re-writes galore will be forthcoming today.
So long as the Tribe let me get my brain into gear.
In other news....for a Xmas pressie idea now is the time to saunter into the shops to snaffle yourself a pretty pot.
Don't be stingy now, get a decent size that isn't too big that you can't carry the mofo.
Trot up to the Sunday Market in Oakleigh (weather permitting) next week and feast your eyes on the vast array of delectable (yet cheap!) heirloom vegies on offer from one of the newest stall holders.
Should your nearest and dearest not be particular to edible plants, cast your baby blues across the equally wide variety of potted pretties you'll find on every second stall, some being old fashioned favourites not available in shops.
  • Grab a bag of the cheapest potting mix.
  • Half fill a bucket, chuck in some compost wriggling with worms then soak some water crystals in another bucket of water.
  • When crystals are absorbed and fluffy (just like the ones usually found in full baby nappies) throw it into the potting mix. Then toss in some slow release fertiliser, soak some moo poo in a stocking in a bucket of water and slurp some moo poo tea into the mix.
  • Stir vigorously, then decant into selected pot.
  • Shove plant of choice into mix, let establish for several weeks until, OMG!
  • You wake up to find it's Xmas Day and, thankfully, you have something to give one person, at least.
Or you could buy them a bag of Moo Poo.
It's the thought that counts....

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Incontinence - the only thing to ruin a good fart.....

I swear, when you hear the pitter patter of not-so-little elderly feet shuffling along the wooden floorboards at some ungodly hour that is so early it is illegal to even have your eyes open you know it's pay back for those sleepless nights you favoured your parents with waaaay back in the dim past.
So, kids - don't be squawking too loudly or else you, too, will be haunted by your elderly parent needing a nappy change at 2am.....

Saturday, November 6, 2010

She's goin' to get ya....

Well, double woot and a big bang to you, too.
Wasn't too much of a double woot to the poor troopers in charge of the gold escort from Rockhampton to the Clermont goldfields who, on this day in 1867, were done a nasty mischief which involved them ceasing to eat and drink. Shockingly the Gold Commissioner Thomas Griffin was the one wot done it and he was stretched by his neck on June 1st, 1868 for his dirty deed.
I had signed up to NaNoWriMo - write a novel within a month - but got off to a slow start.
Meh, a mere 50,000 words in a 30 day period?
Easy, I thought.
*snort*
Just like the ship Porpoise that rocked up to Port Jackson on this day in 1800 with 4 tons of copper coins - everyone said it couldn't be done but Guv Macquarie proved them wrong when he managed to sew them into the hem of his crinoline skirt and stand boldly in the face of a force 10 gale on Cockatoo Island during his inaugural Mardi Gras Supper Party for One.
Yeah, so I'm up to 5,300 and something-something, fighting off the family like a lion tamer with whip and chair while the brain turns to sludge.
Alexander Riley and Garnham Blaxcell signed on the dotted line with crinoline-bedecked Macquarie in 1810 to import as much rum as they wanted...so long as they built a hospital, The Rum Hospital. Solution to any crisis can always be found by looking back over one's shoulder...usually to find the answer as to why a governor preferred a crinoline to jodhpurs but sometimes for cheap, easy answers to let a govt off the responsibility for funding new hospitals.
I might make it.
I might, also, be found, twitching, in the fetal position over in yonder corner babbling incoherently about plot, sub-plot, dialogue, scenes, historically incorrect fiction and gads more crap that sloshes around in my headspace.
Just smile, nod and move quickly away.
It's not contagious but it is disturbing.
Just as disturbing is the fact Australia Post released the first special Xmas stamp on this day back in 1957 proving that they've always been getting on the Xmas band wagon far too early in the year and flogging the nativity for all it's worth. Cos they weren't then a toy shop....yet.
So, I shall leave you with the ear worm from Ace of Base which hit the top of the charts for 3 weeks from this date in 1993 All That She Wants.
I'll be pecking at the keyboard....

Friday, November 5, 2010

Bustin' out the Bra

I'm tired, the year is rushing by, hang on wasn't it Monday just a minute ago and now you're saying it's Friday?!
The kidlet is on his new/old meds, trying to regiment the routine is difficult as it irritates him like pure new wool on his skin (makes him itch) while Dad is almost blooming with rude health.
Oops, just looked at the date again - it's Guy Fawkes Day, the only bloke what entered Parliament with honest intentions.
Don't say it too loud or the freaky jittery critters will think you're a terrorist.
Or have an opinion independent from The Herd.
State election coming up later this month - none of the buggers deserve a chance.
Philip Gidley King was named as successor to Gov Hunter today in 1799; yeah bet that went down well over a pint of Boag's beer.
Let's stay impartial and celebrate the anniversary of the ABC beginning transmission on this day back in 1956.
Exciting, eh?
Wonder if they'll break out the Milk Arrowroot bikkies with the tepid dishwater masquerading as tea along with the cardigans sporting leather patches on the elbows?
Not as tepid as Collins felt when he begged asked for permission in 1803 to up sticks from (Sullivan Bay near Sorrento) Port Phillip to mosey on down to Hobart.
Thanks for all the lovely support, I may start calling you all My Cross Your Heart Bra *snort*.
With extra under-wire sling support for heavy days. 

rrsahm

The Rules.

  1. Follow my blog, the Random Ramblings of a SAHM. I never seem to get to reading all the links here. But believe me, I try. Not that any of this is my idea anyway- FYBF is MummyTime's brainbaby. I stole it.
  2. Grab the bubbly button and post it on your sidebar.
  3. Link your First Name and/or Blog Name and URL of your post or blog.
  4. Add a short description (max of 125 chars). It could be a description of yourself, your blog or a teaser to your latest post. .
  5. Follow at least 1 linkyer/blogger (Be nice and spread the love).
  6. The list will be open for linkyers on Fridays (and for the foreigners Friday as well).
  7. A new and fresh link list will open  every Friday. And you will have to link up AGAIN. The previous link list  does not carry over to the following week.
  8. And lastly, have lotsa fun. I mean it. If I detect anyone not totally loving the awesomeness, I will bump you off the linky list. (Joking) (Kinda).

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

...And now, an update from our roving ratbag from the trenches....

Weeeeeeeeeell, there was supposed to be another post featuring the next book give away.
I was also supposed to go pay money for Bush Babe's fantabulous 2011 calendar (sorry!).
It aint happenin'.
At least, not today.
Or tonight.
Ooooooooooo, the 'dry house' got soaking wet, the rum and coke did NOT touch the sides and my liver is squealing in an-tic----i-pation.
*hic*
Yeah, Rocky Horror Glee rocked this joint, too.
The feral one went ballistic.
He was more postal than a psyched out nutfucker that chucks mail at your door.
Yep, he was nuclear...thank you, Dubbya Bush.
His father?
That ginormous giant of a man mountain?
Almost flattened by the weedy thin savage scrawny fruit of our loins.
We haz more holes in dah plaster than in the pantyhose littering the lawn at Flemington.
Again.
Police called, ambos arrived and we went off to the Children's.
Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to the hospital we go...
The ambos were fab, the staff at the Children's were super and golly gosh, gee whiz, he got seen, attended and sorted by a qualified professional within 50 mins.
Thank the good Goddess on freakin' HIGH I was parked on my arse when this happened.
Thank the freaky Goddess-babe, again, that I was able to get the kidlet taken to a decent hosp for a change.
So, good ladies and gentlemens, apologies for not babbling in your comment boxes all day or posting the next give away or running stark nekkid down the Bourke Street Mall...
Wait.
That's on the bucket list for Xmas.
My back and head are aching, my guts are tied in knots and the pretty green fairy from the Absinthe bottle is eluding my best efforts to pin the bitch down.
Joking.
I swallowed her years ago in mistaken identity for the Tequila worm.
She wriggled worse than the worm.
The worm had more flavour, too.
G'night!

Did you back a winner...?

Well, who was clever enough to back Americain in the Melbourne Cup yesterday?
No?
Nevermind, we managed to throw a few bob on it, seeing as my cousin was the bloodstock agent who saw the potential in the four-legged beastie and when he nods we listen.
My eyes are hanging out of my head this morning as I sat up til after 1am to complete the update of the Dunolly and District History blog - go, feel free to rummage through the month long dates I posted, smirk, giggle or just roll your eyes at my efforts.
The feral child is splurging on algebra, again; found a fabulous new text book at the Salvos on Abstract Algebra and the kidlet is enjoying it greatly.
Not bad for someone who's grade 3 teacher insisted on reminding him at every opportunity that he came at the bottom of the Naplan tests in the national average in maths.
Ner, ner, ner, ner, ner.
I'll be posting another book give away this arvo, right after my extra nana nap where I hopefully don't raise the roof too much with my snoring.
Enjoy the pics.

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This is one of two graves of early settlers out in the middle of the forest that have been lost then refound.
Husband and wife ran a general store from a tent/slab hut and died from a contagious disease, hence the burial out away from people.

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This is where the Burke and Wills expedition crossed the Loddon River (just up a bit to the left).
Probably not where the actual persons of Burke and Wills themselves paddled over (who had to stick to towns to fete the townspeople into donating dosh and goodies towards the bush walk) but the rest of them that did the hard yakka.

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This sheep busted out and did a runner right in front of our eyes.
No one at home to raise the alarm, cheeky sod trotted off down the road after skirting us and giving us the hairy woolly eyeball.

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Inside of our roof - this is one of three roofs, 2 corrugated iron, 1 of aluminium tiles.
Just thought I'd share.

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One of our ceiling roses while the house was being rewired.

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Mud bricks similar to the ones found on our land.

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Bush Daisy, thrives in amongst the Ironbarks.
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One of the earliest crossings of the Loddon River, where a punt operated for some years.

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Dad back in August at Dunolly.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Grog an' Grumble Steeplechase on Melbourne Cup Day and The Winner is....

Kiwi Nomad!
Shoot me an email with your postal details to ourgreatsouthernland at gmail dot com and I'll pop it into the post first thing tomorrow morning, post Melbourne Cup madness.

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And a little bit of Henry Lawson for the silliness of Melbourne Cup Day -
The Grog-an'-Grumble Steeplechase

'Twixt the coastline and the border lay the town of Grog-an'-Grumble
  (Just two pubs beside a racecourse in a wilderness of sludge),
An' they say the local meeting was a drunken rough-and-tumble,
  Which was ended pretty often by an inquest on the judge.
An' tis said the city talent very often caught a tartar
  In the Grog-an'-Grumble sportsman, 'n' returned with broken heads,
For the fortune, life, and safety of the Grog-an'-Grumble starter
  Mostly hung upon the finish of the local thoroughbreds.


Pat M'Durmer was the owner of a horse they called the Screamer,
  Which he called "the quickest shtepper 'twixt the Darling and the sea",
And I think it's very doubtful if the stomach-troubled dreamer
  Ever saw a more outrageous piece of equine scenery;
For his points were most decided, from his end to his beginning,
  He had eyes of different colour, and his legs they wasn't mates.
Pat M'Durmer said he always came "widin a flip of winnin'",
  An' his sire had come from England, 'n' his dam was from the States.


Friends would argue with M'Durmer, and they said he was in error
  To put up his horse the Screamer, for he'd lose in any case,
And they said a city racer by the name of Holy Terror
  Was regarded as the winner of the coming steeplechase;
But he said he had the knowledge to come in when it was raining,
  And irrelevantly mentioned that he knew the time of day,
So he rose in their opinion.  It was noticed that the training 
  Of the Screamer was conducted in a dark, mysterious way.


Well, the day arrived in glory; 'twas a day of jubilation
  For the careless-hearted bushmen for a hundred miles around,
An' the rum 'n' beer 'n' whisky came in waggons from the station,
  An' the Holy Terror talent were the first upon the ground.
Judge M'Ard - with whose opinion it was scarcely safe to wrestle -
  Took his dangerous position on the bark-and-sapling stand:
He was what the local Stiggins used to speak of as a "wessel
  Of wrath", and he'd a bludgeon that he carried in his hand.


"Off ye go!" the starter shouted, as down fell a stupid jockey -
  Off they started in disorder - left the jockey where he lay -
And they fell and rolled and galloped down the crooked course and rocky,
  Till the pumping of the Screamer could be heard a mile away.
But he kept his legs and galloped; he was used to rugged courses,
  And he lumbered down the gully till the ridge began to quake:
And he ploughed along the siding, raising earth till other horses
  An' their riders, too, were blinded by the dust-cloud in his wake.


From the ruck he'd slowly struggled - they were much surprised to find him
  Close abeam of the Holy Terror as along the flat they tore -
Even higher still and denser rose the cloud of dust behind him,
  While in more divided splinters flew the shattered rails before.
"Terror!"  "Dead heat!" they were shouting - "Terror!" but the Screamer hung out
  Nose to nose with Holy Terror as across the creek they swung,
An' M'Durmer shouted loudly, "Put yer tongue out! put yer tongue out!"
  An ' the Screamer put his tongue out, and he won by half-a-tongue.

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