March 31 Yes, I snore...not quite like a chainsaw but I'm working on that...

Arse parked on couch again, not so leisurely or dainty, back sore and pain meds now making me sleepy.
Which means they must be working if I'm trying not to snore before midday.
Went looking for history bits for this date and was almost comatose before I'd reached halfway down the page they were so dry, dull and the hidden cure for insomnia.

In 1906 the Grey River Argus trumpeted the news of a huge fire that took out several Sydney warehouses, threatening the entire block, gutting the Berlin Piano Company.

Robert Kinnear became the first Indigenous runner to win the famed Stawell Gift in 1883.

The fabulous Aussie kid's classic, Possum Magic, was released on this date in 1983.

The Grey River Argus reported in 1885 that the West Island had received warning from Singapore that The Russians are coming! The Russians are coming!



The RAAF was formed on this day in 1921.

South Australians grew to love their woolly backs to the point that by this date in 1863 there were almost 3.5 million Sunday roasts gambolling about the Adelaide Hills.

March 30 almost with disco ponies crapping fireworks from their arse...but not quite

Well, here I lounge in complete and utter decadence, hot water bottle in the small of my back, pillows plumped and propping me up as I screech melodiously request the spouse to play fetch kindly pass me the next handful of pain meds to keep the dreaded gorgon his beloved wife a happy lil camper.
I conned the offspring into giving me his laptop - he came around to my way of thinking when he realised it would keep the dreaded gorgon his beloved mother out of his hair.
That and the fact the silly cow can't chase after him today so he's running amok with digging holes in the backyard (or something...probably finding Narnia or Harold Holt beneath the hen house) while I lounge on the lounge (sounds so much more sumptuous than the reality of sprawling across the couch in bizarre positions to find relief from strained back muscles *snort*).

Dear, favoured British author Chas Dickens was a keen-as-mustard fan of Caroline Chisholm who assisted immigrants once their tootsies landed upon the shores of the Fair Isle of Oz so he published a pile of letters on this day in 1850 which Brit emmigrants had scribed to support ballsy Caroline's commonsense organisation.

So...Earl Bathurst was an obsessed avid hoarder collector of stuff so he founded the oldest "publick" museum in Oz in 1827, the Australian Museum.

On this day in 1899 Miles Franklin posted off her manuscript to Angus & Robertson.
Who rejected it.
My Brilliant Career was eventually published by a Scottish firm when Henry Lawson took it overseas with him.
My Brilliant Career has outlasted Angus & Robertson *snort*

In 1871 one of the famed Aboriginal cricketers who toured England, Johnny Cuzens, died but the Melbourne Cricket Club refused to contribute the 6 pounds needed for his burial.

Bonjour!
A few years earlier,  in 1772, The Fair Isle of Oz was annexed by France by Monsieur Louis de Saint Alouarn.
Ainsi, cher lecteur, nous devrions par des droites parler français, mai oui ?!

March 29 throughout bizarre and odd events in history...which may or may not include vanilla yoghurt

And here we are again, bloys and girls..."bloys"? where the heck did that come from?!
Methinks my Freudian Finger Slip is showing there...somewhere.
Anywaaaaay, it's another day, another Dawn with a crack that came and went before I'd dragged up an eyelid to see what the fuss about sparrow's fart was and now I grace your monitor with the usual prattle and blather.

The Wanganui Herald reported in 1905 that *gasp* jam tins Did! Not! Contain! The! Correct! Advertised! Weight!
But, never fear! The War Office had the names of the Tassie and Aussie contractors (cos Tassie is a country of its own apparently)!

The first Federal election in the Fair Land of Oz was held on this day back in the dim dark ages of 1901 when *horror of horrors* WOMEN were not only allowed to VOTE! butfour chickybabes also STOOD for election!
*swoon* where will this madness end...surely the gals won't aspire to the top office in the land...?

A jury cleared a Western Australian station manager in 1930 of the charges of murdering nine Aboriginal people who were alleged to have been stealing cattle.

New Zealand was graced with a warrior princess in 1968 when Lucy Lawless was dropped off by the stork.

In Melbourne in 1888 some bloke named Chidley got a nasty shock when the public display of his flying machine went uppity-up then downy down...with a kaBOOM at the end.
It always works in rehersal but when it comes to the premiere performance....!

In 1902 not only did they murder Breaker Morant and Lt Handcock by firing squad they kinda sorta forgot to tell Handcock's missus who found out about his demise through the newspapers.
Nice one, cockheads.

Alicia Mary Kelly, ballsy chick and one of only 7 nurses to receive the Military Medal, enlisted in the Australian Army Nursing Service, AIF, on this day in 1915.

There you have it, the thrilling and wonderous happenings of March 29 in history that you just couldn't possibly have gone on without knowing......
And not a skerrick of vanilla yoghurt in sight!
*rolls eyes*

Book Worms...

Click for larger image...

I give up! And I'm frigging bloody happy!

It's been on my mind and someone asked about it today....
I've come home and taken one look at the damn exercise bike glowering at me from the corner of the dining room (boring holes in my back with it's sneer even as I sit here) and I feel no compunction to climb aboard.
I have averaged 4 hours or more every day on the damn thing (I even ended up with pressure sores at one point, I kid you not) - nada.
Not a frigging gram of weight did I shift.

I have done my damndest for over 18 months to get my weight under control yet the scales have edged upwards into triple figures - no, it's not muscle weighing more than fat in my case although I so wish it was (and tried to kid myself with that old chestnut for a while) as I've gone from size 16 up to size 22 almost into 24.

I've tried gobbling nothing but fruit, steamed vegies, salads and steamed chicken and fish for weeks and months until I felt like a piece of rainforest vegetation - zilch.
I've then gone without white carb foods, even sacrificed my beloved Woolies Home Brand Sour Cream and Onion flavoured chippies, gone the sweet spud route, no pasta, rice, noodles, etc, et nothing after 6pm except black unsweetened tea - nothing.

I've tried a couple of diets with set menus - on one I thought I'd lost 6 kgs on but it turns out one really can put back on 6 litres of fluid overnight when one is going through menopause.
Gotta love menopause - when hormones can turn a chick into a homocidal maniac WITHOUT the incentive of added weight.

I've had 3 GPs tell me I'm obese - yes, I swear to the Goddess I've been told that, if you don't believe me take it up with then - and to 'stop indulging in junk food' despite me telling them I eat up to 7 steamed vegies with a tiny piece of fat-free steamed fish/chicken 6 nights a week with gallons of fruit and water, sans salt and sugar.

I did not partake of any alcoholic beverages until I recently got my Meniere's diagnosis last December - in my wisdom I figured if I was going to fall sideways and look tipsy I may as well have some enjoyment and earn that damn accusation so I get jiggy with it on 1 can of beer/2-3 G&Ts 3 times per week - nothing which can be blamed for my weight gain.

And seriously, by this point I'd had a good long look at my spartan diet and looked at the growing barge arse and thought "Fuck it".

 I'm here to say I waver between 107 - 115 kgs (depending on the fluid retention for the day) and I really don't give a fat rat's clacker anymore.
*tip toes over and covers the hulking bike with a pretty floral bedsheet....*

Kelley's tat... still tatting, 6 days on....and counting...

Ausblogcon photos...well, SOME of them

 I was going to share a shedload of pics I took -   there were about 100+ shots of some of the most gorgeous architecture in and around Sydney, the Ausblogcon conference, the dinner dance, the luncheon with lovely gals at Lindt cafe on Sunday - but Feral Child's brand-new-for-Christmas-only-taken-2-snaps-before-this-trip-point-and-shoot digital camera refused to upload many of them.
Then shat itself.
Then deleted the whole lot.
*had a cry at this point. seriously*
Samsung ES65 I am thoroughly f'kn unimpressed.


My DSLR came through with some.
*Click on the photos to see a larger version*

 Austinmer beach where we stopped for B and her girl to dip their toes into the water.

View from our 17th floor window Friday night.

6am Saturday morning.

 Just a couple from the window.

Yes, they're blurry (how your face appears to me so no one has wrinkles in my world) trying not to flash to capture the colours.

Just for Andrew - a spitter above our window.

And finally - (Thank fark there were SOME pics) - just a few of the people who made the conference such a fabulous experience....

Looking forward to Ausblogcon 2012!

Ausblogcon retrospective babble sans photos but with extra snap, crapple and plop!

Wow!
I've managed to haul my arse in from Wodonga after the return road trip with Mz B  ( I love you, Louise!) and here I am trying to sort my impressions of Aussie Bloggers Conference 2011.

Right.
I'm under no disillusions that a lot of people read my history babble for the smartarse comments cos a lot of people find history, itself, BORING.
But I beg to diff because we all made history this weekend and WE were FAR from boring.
Not looking at those gals who broke burned up the dancefloor on Saturday night...no...not at all.... 


The girls who worked their arses off to bring this about deserve a HUGE pat on the back Karen, Veronica, Tina, Nicole and Brenda   (not to forget those who offered insights/suggestions/advice/tips, etc, from the sidelines who were equally as valuable to this event coming to fruition) , the details alone would have driven me insane (ok, more insane than I already am) and the fact they managed to continue their committiment to their families, work, blogs, etc, shows how tough and determined they were to bring this great event to pass.
For all of US.
And pass it did, oh too quickly, but I think it's safe to say Australian blogging has passed a point of no return.
No longer can it be brushed aside as "the little woman's hobby" or "a fluff piece" or "not real writing".
Blogging in Australia has now dipped its toe into the SERIOUS waters of journalism/news reporting/opinon pieces/reviews. etc.

Sure, these things were already written about but after a SINGLE conference has been held the movers, shakers, PR companies, marketing gurus and every man and his dog has suddenly sat up and realised "TISM" (This Is Serious Mum).
Well, hell, they must have cos even little old boring, babbling history me has received several emails since Friday asking to pay me to allow articles to be published on my little old boring, babbling history blog *snort*.

And I owe a lot of people an apology.
Yes, you really met "Jayne" who regurgitates her brain contents on here but I am shy and reserved.
Heck, it's taken 23 years to shoe horn me out of my home state (give or take the odd foray across the border that did not involve visas, passports and cattle prods) and my grey matter was preoccupied with the Tribe back home most of the time (plus I was doing my damndest not to mishear you or trip over my own feet proving what a twit I really am), so sorry if I came across as quiet/stand-offish/reserved/snooty/rude/ completely unlike my online smartarse self.
That's me.
Until I've hung out with you for a while.
Then the cerebral smartarse collides with the mouse-like critter...and I hold no responsibility for what comes forth.
So, I figure if you give or take a couple more of these great conferences (run/organised by the same WONDERFUL gals) by the 4th you should have me pole dancing in a G-string to introduce Creative Content in Brisvegas.

*Disclaimer....
This post was NOT written in my head as I snoozed my way down the length of the state of Victoria whilst listening on the coach to a 50-something year old punk chick explain to a teen (on the opposing side) how to reach level 29 in Global Wars, having my eyeballs skewered by the two flannel-shirt-wearing bogan teens being all 'rebellious' by sitting in the rural train luggage bay discovering first love or the chick behind me on the suburban train explaining to her two work friends that the guy she shares the house with has a regular supply of disposable gloves, large plastic sheeting, 300 litres of bleach and has a tonne of cola on hand to which her workmates explained he was most likely disposing of bodies in the bath tub...

Aussie Bloggers Conference 2011 - FABulous, Dahlinks, simply FABULOUS!

Yes, it's over.
Like Christmas we waited and plotted and planned for this day then whoosh it was over in a matter of a few hours.
Fabulous time had by all!
Am posting this as we get glammed up (in my case I'm exchanging one paperbag for another) for the drinkie-poohs and dinner dance in 30 mins.
HUGE congrats to the organisers, who I will link to properly in a later post, they pulled off a massive coup with their skills.
Now, if you'll excuse me I have  meal to maul !

If you are reading this....

....no, I'm not dead.

You!
Up the back!
Stop whinging about false advertising.

Now, as I was saying before I was RUDELY interrupted by the *imaginary voices in mah head I am not here.
Not in a Bob Dylan kinda way but in the I am broomsticking training it up to Albury to run wildly amok visit with B then we will cross the border at midnight when security is slackest then visit with some good friends as we scream up the highway a la Thelma and Louise style wend our way towards Sydney where we will have our wicked way with all and sundry a wonderful time...kinda way.

Oh, and I will be still here until Thursday morning, so if you have any complaints you'd best get them in before the witching hour tonight, in triplicate, before Kelley's Giant Squid in his Super Blue Magic Pumpkin rocks up and sweeps me away in a glass slipper to the land of Bizarre Fairy Tales.

Hans Christian Anderson has a lot to answer for.

But a good friend is turning up to salvage the borked **t-shirt transfer, I have been playing with mah ancient classic makeup that hasn't seen the light of day since Queen Victoria wasn't amused and I might just pull off looking halfway decent.
Or it'll be the ***paperbag special look.

I plan to have a wild time in Sydney.
The bucketloads of soda water, frest fruit and the odd indulgence in finger jewellery might even lead me to staying up until midnight!
Imagine!

*Difference between my home-grown madness and the garden variety is that I know these are imaginary voices. Just like the fact we only imagine we have a bogan ranga chick for President of the United Territories of Oz.

**Otherwise you'd all have to pay me $5 to guess the name of my blog at the conference.

*** Then you can all stare, whisper and pay me $5 to guess which hospital I escaped from.

March 15 whatever, whatever, whatever....what gave away my very pissed-off-ed-ness?

March 15, 188? The Australian wheat is blah blah blah blah *yawn* blah blah *snore*.
Oh, wait.
Give me a bit of time here, I'm hunting through the miles of blandly boring chronological crap interesting things to find something to titivate you.

1929 Oh, now, isn't that pleasant? The Regent Theatre in Melbourne was opened.
It pretty much goes downhill from here....

In 1957 Jessie Street wrote a letter (not with a thumbnail dipped in tar) regarding the Aborigines (sic) and a possible referendum.
See? Listen to women, we're always right.

1901 The Australian Historical Society had its first knees up.
Was later dubbed Royal Australian Historical Society.
But the cream teas never lived up to that first meeting.

1897 Now it's 'alas and alack, woe is me' time (please note the entire wealth of empathy in that comment as I won't repeat it) - some silly tool in Melbourne apparently tried to do himself a nasty mischief over "excessive cycling".
Cos binge cycling is BAD, boys and girls.
Say NO to binge cycling.
 Shit, Parliament was prolonged, too...a fate worse than death...but guaranteed to cure insomnia.
Maybe it was Parliament that was the cause of the excessive cycling...?
Or the banking sector?
No, that was entirely too coarse, I apologise.

March 15, 1892 Some bloke waffled on about the railway estimates and got his tits in a tangle over some other chap favouring some family over some railway contracts.
Or some thing....

In 1887 a group of blokes (who obviously didn't get out much) got all hot and bothered over some other blokes sheep shearing machine thingie.
Yeah, men and their sheep....

Oh, dear Goddess, now it's cricket *sob*
Some tossers flung their balls at some other tossers from 15 - 19 March in 1877  (give the men a tv remote to entertain their minds, ffs) and something wonderful happened - their gals were left in peace, happiness was achieved and men were allowed to live for another year.

Once upon a time there was a group of gutsy gals who stood up to the govt....

I do have a few (very few) snaps of our re-walked Scotchman's Creek walk from whenever it was we did that merry go round ride but I'll be posting them sometime after Friday.
For I am running away to join the circus.
No, really, I'm off tomorrow to learn how to make cheese (keep yourself nice!).
So, I will leave you with a pretty vile little tale of racism I've been tweeting my lardy butt off about, trying to get some media coverage for the ballsy gals in the midst of it all.
On International Women's Day the ballsy Gunai/Kurnai chickybabes at Lake Tyers Aboriginal Trust blockaded the former mission due to a great many issues happening.
I'll give you the links to read, the news articles outline them all...

This is the press release they put out yesterday.
We've been waiting for the new one all night but they're having a meeting to make some decisions.

Details of the damage to sacred sites, potential wreckage of Aboriginal heritage and history, people living in sheds while houses stand empty, land owners being told what they can/cannot do on their own property.

Some more of the same from this arvo.

Some details of the State Govt appointed administrators.
Remember - these are intelligent, grown, educated people who own their own property.
Yet 8 years ago, contrary to the Act, without any consultation with Traditional Owners or Elders or shareholders, the State Govt deemed that they needed a form of Govt intervention.
Just like the govt intervention that's in place in the NT.
Except this one in Gippsland came first.

How would you feel if someone walked in your front door and began telling you what you could or couldn't do on your own property, how you were allowed to spend your money?
How about if these strangers go start building over your favourite rose garden or your mothers grave?
But then, if you protest or ask questions they claim it's for your own good, that they know better, leave them to do their job.
How would you feel?
Disrespected? Demoralised? Kicked to the kerb?
And they wonder why the Indigenous People have a shorter lifespan...wtf have they got to live for, they must ask themselves, when they're not even allowed to manage their own property!

If the colour of your skin deems you to be an ignorant child who needs the big Govt protector making decisions for you in 2011 then we have learned nothing in the past 200 years.
And that apology to the stolen generations was just cheap talk.

Merri Creek stroll part deaux

We broke off our amble, if you'll recall (don't know why I have to keep reminding you what we did) and, having shovelled food down our gullets we waddled off continued on our walk.

*NB Once again, click the piccys to see a larger image. 
Some pics appear sideways but if you click on them they should show up the right way.

No, I'll readily admit I've developed a fetish for bridges...

Great written history of the Wurundjeri people's connection to the Merri Merri Creek.

Isn't it splendid?

Somewhere near Clifton Hill and/or Rushall railway Station.

Couldn't follow the signage, was not very clear.

Sign Fail on this trail.

Read....

The 2nd plaque was beneath the first one.

Weeds were a bonus extra.

Oh, look!

A body of water!

I wonder whatever could it be...

I Spy With My Little Borked Eye Something Beginning With Blue....

Can you see it?

How about I do this...

Isn't he/she magnificent!

Had to wander away from the Merri Creek for some way and so we passed this twee little wishing well, complete with steps for the fairies

Tried to put them together - Indigenous mural underneath a railway overpass with the following mural on opposite side of overpass foundation...

Came across this lovely little Art Deco-style fountain which was dedicated to a former councillor

Oh, yay, we found the water thingie again!

Obviously you'll have to click on the pics to read the wording but these were put back in the replacement bridge which was rebuilt by the Country Roads Board (now there's an extinct animal you don't often hear about these days!)

Ahhh, bliss!

Pink flower!

Another fine specimen of a bridge.

Yes, I may have an addiction....

Know what this is?

If you can make it out under all the stupid illiterate tagging, it was Wales' bluestone quarry and those stones were the remains of the winch base which hauled up the bluestone.

It was filled in after almost 100 years by Whelan the wrecker...with the remains of wrecked buildings, many of them bluestone mined probably from that very quarry.

A little bit of modern history.

Goodness, imagine building in a flood zone.... *ahem*

The following is the Victoria Street Litter Trap, with a sign explaining how it works and how it was made from the remains of the quarry winch.

The following explains how produce has been grown here for over 100 years and which is now watered by roof run-off which then filters down to the Merri Creek.

This is just a tiny section of the produce area.

On the other side of the path, right above the creek , were a gazillion fig trees loaded with fruit but there was a chappie in an official-looking vest harvesting the fruit so I wasn't game to A) take his piccy in case he wasn't supposed to be there and B) help myself to a free sample of the delicious looking fruit.

That flood mark was over my head - most of us would have drowned, not in the filthy water, but under layers of plastic.

*Having walked the Scotchman's Creek Trail today there was a noticable difference in the crap hanging in the trees - less plastic, more natural mulch.

And there we left it, shortly after this last pic was taken we hobbled into Ceres where we guzzled down a delish bottle of NZ organic ginger beer then spied a bus stop for the 903 nearby.