Night Before Christmas in Aussie land

24 12 2010

‘Twas the night before Christmas; there wasn’t a sound.

Not a possum was stirring; no-one was around.
We’d left on the table some tucker and beer,

Hoping that Father Christmas soon would be here;

We children were snuggled up safe in our beds,

While dreams of pavlova danced ’round in our heads;
And Mum in her nightie, and Dad in his shorts,

Had just settled down to watch TV sports.

When outside the house a mad ruckus arose;

Loud squeaking and banging woke us from our doze.

We ran to the screen door, peeked cautiously out,

snuck onto the deck, then let out a shout.

Guess what had woken us up from our snooze,

But a rusty old Ute pulled by eight mighty ‘roos.

The cheerful man driving was giggling with glee,

And we both knew at once who this plump bloke must be.

Now, I’m telling the truth it’s all dinki-di,

Those eight kangaroos fairly soared through the sky.
Chris leaned out the window to pull at the reins,

And encouraged the ‘roos, by calling their names.

‘Now, Kylie! Now, Kirsty! Now, Shazza and Shane!

On Kipper! On, Skipper! On, Bazza and Wayne!

Park up on that water tank. Grab a quick drink,

I’ll scoot down the gum tree. Be back in a wink!’

So up to the tank those eight kangaroos flew,

With the Ute full of toys, and Old Chris too.

He slid down the gum tree and jumped to the ground,

Then in through the window he sprang with a bound.

He had bright sunburned cheeks and a milky white beard.

A jolly old joker was how he appeared.

He wore red stubby shorts and old thongs on his feet,

And a hat of deep crimson as shade from the heat.

His eyes – bright as opals – Oh! How they twinkled!

And, like a goanna, his skin was quite wrinkled!

His shirt was stretched over a round bulging belly

Which shook when he moved, like a plate full of jelly.

A fat stack of prezzies he flung from his back,

And he looked like a swaggie unfastening his pack.

He spoke not a word, but bent down on one knee,

To position our goodies beneath the yule tree.

Surfboard and foot-ball shapes for us two.

And for Dad, tongs to use on the new barbeque.

A mysterious package he left for our Mum,

Then he turned and he winked and he held up his thumb;

He strolled out on deck and his ‘roos came on cue;

Flung his sack in the back and prepared to shoot through.

He bellowed out loud as they swooped past the gates-

MERRY CHRISTMAS to all, and goodonya, MATES!’

Via Toby Flander (Slightly adjusted to make it True Blue)

Something interesting about laundry.

20 12 2010

Mum and Jan used to complain about t-shirts which went “boaty” after a while, by that I mean the hole where your head goes through, would sag and look horrible. We assumed that the quality of the shirt had something to do with it, or that perhaps t-shirts needed to be folded, rather than hung in the wardrobe.

I’ve recently worked out why t-shirts do this, Now I’m sure that some of you clever people have also worked it out, but for those who haven’t, I’m about to reveal the mystery so that you can avoid the problem in future.

We’ve always used the washing line in our family, we live in a place where it’s reasonably dry, Melbourne, why use a dryer when there’s so much free, dry air?

The problem is with the way t-shirts are hung on the line.

They are usually pegged on by the seams in the shoulder area, by two pegs, Now because the shirt is wet, even if it’s been well spun out, the entire section between the pegs (draw a line vertically from the collar to the bottom of the shirt) is unsupported, so it sags, and stretches the material.

After a while, the material is permanently stretched and takes on this boaty, saggy appearance.

The way to avoid it, is to fold at least an inch (or half if you like) of the top of the shirt over the line, then use three pegs.

Place a peg about an inch from the edge of each side of the shirt, and place the third right in the middle.

Your t-shirts should last much longer now.

This also works with towels, which suffer the same fate.


Just a little post about Christmas

17 12 2010

Despite being a Hitler worshiping, Baby eating Atheist, I still like Christmas.

It’s not the same as it used to be, a real family occasion, with Mum and Dad and a quick visit from Jan, We’d exchange gifts and then fill the day with some other activity, which could have been going to my sisters for Christmas dinner… which usually featured a roast, It’s summer here in Australia so there was usually pork in the Webber outside.

I caught myself typing “Porn” just then, probably out of habit.

But there were “Family issues” so we started going to the local pub, and that was fine, there was just the three of us and we didn’t want much.

Then Dad passed away, and left just Mum, Benny and I. Benny was our loveable Malamute.

My Cousin asked us if we’d like to spend the day with them, and we accepted, and that is still the current state of play despite My Mother having died a few years back.

I love my Cousin, but I do feel a huge fish out of water there, they’re all madly into Football, and despite it being the middle of Summer, the talk is always about Footscray. Last year Yvonne got a large, framed photo of someone which looked like it had been photoshopped to look like an oil painting, I have no idea who it was.

If anything is knitted, you can bet it’ll come in three colours, yes THOSE colours.

I never liked Footy, It always seemed to me that it was about a bunch of Men trying really hard to prove that they were Heterosexual, possibly too hard.

This year, for the very first time, I have a mobile phone which I can tweet on, so yes, you can bet that there will be tweets and photos from there.

I do feel a bit sad when I’m there though, Katie is at home and misses me, and I’ll miss her… I always hated being away from my dogs. My parents used to take me on a lot of interstate trips, which I loved, but I hated leaving my animals behind.

It’s the 17th of December, and I have not sent a single card away, I had intended to, but I feel it’s too late for my Overseas friends, anyway.

Years ago I had a bit more Money to play with, and I loved buying Aussie things and sending them to my friends, I loved having the opportunity to be generous. but things changed.

After Mum died, every cent went on food and bills and things, when Before, Mum took care of most of it, She insisted. So I’d pay the Phone and Internet bills, and any Vet bills, while She bought the food and payed for the rest.

I had assumed that at some point, I would have had a job and not been in such a hole, perhaps I could have sent Mum a share of what I bought in, but it didn’t work out that way.

This year I have decided to be less generous, and focus on what I need. Some things around the house need fixing, My Bathroom is a shocker, My Bed is being held up by phonebooks, and I need lots of new clothes.

So I intend to send people cards, I think I have left it too late though.

Christmas is not what it used to be, I was thinking of giving it a miss this year, but I still put the tree up for Katie and I.

Compared with others, I have a bed and a roof over my head, it’s not perfect, but it’s mine.


The heavy hand of anti-spam

16 12 2010

I’ve just noticed something happening that may have led some of you to feel that I wasn’t interested in what you’ve had to say. It turns out that the anti-spam program which is used on WordPress may have been a bit heavy handed and kept some posts (I don’t know how many) away from my virgin eyes.

I have rescued one.

I’m sorry if yours was eaten by the Rottweiler, I will keep a check on this so-called spam from now on, and if something doesn’t post, give me a bell via other channels which you’re probably familiar with.

Thankyou and Once again I offer My Sincere Apologies.


Merry Christmas everyone.

15 12 2010

Here’s my favourite christmas song this year, although I think it was released last year. It’s called White Wine in the Sun, and I love it because I think it sums up how most of us Aussies feel about Christmas, and I love that it’s about the Summer, which it is, despite decorating our homes with images of Northern winters. We should learn to embrace our lovely hot summer Christmases and forget about the ice and snow which always seems so silly to me.



What Religion does to People.

11 12 2010

I had the misfortune to discover this wordpress blog tonight, as you know, I am completely over religion, the threats of an eternity in hell, the promise of an eternity in heaven… but only if you’re impossibly good, and most of all because of bigots who call themselves patriots and think that they’re so much more righteous than you and I because they carry a book in their hand which was probably written by a gang of pot smoking hermits.

I have lived through cancer, I saw my relatives with it, several of my most wonderful animals and I had it myself, and I have talked about this fairly often on this very blog, you may search for it if you wish.

What I read in this persons blog, was cruel, thoughtless and downright mean, if that is what religion does to people, then I don’t want any part of it.

When I was diagnosed with Cancer, I had the best oncologist I could get, I had the best surgeon, and a wonderful dedicated bunch of doctors and nurses who got me through, it was science which has allowed me to continue living, not mumbo-jumbo and imaginary friends in the sky.

And although I am an Atheist, I am loved, by friends, family and my beautiful household animals, and their encouragement pushed me to keep going when I wanted desperately to stop having chemo, it was this, not prayers that I value.

I don’t care who you are, no book or made up faith should allow anyone to become the kind of person who would write anything like this, and I sincerely hope that the time will come when people will drop religion and walk into the future with those of us who are now free of it, instead of digging your nails into the dirt and trying to drag us all back into the 17th century.

Here is a transcript of the page, just in case it’s deleted, I want everyone to see this.


Obama implies he’s not a believing Christian
Posted on August 15, 2009 by GodsGadfly| 2 Comments

“I just lost my grandmother last year. I know what it’s like to watch somebody you love, who’s aging, deteriorate and have to struggle with that,” an impassioned Obama told a crowd as he spoke of Madelyn Payne Dunham. He took issue with “the notion that somehow I ran for public office or members of Congress are in this so they can go around pulling the plug on grandma.”

I know people are going to call this a stretch, but one thing I’ve experienced first hand, and through many conversations, is how different the death experience for those who have faith and those who don’t.

One person’s “agonizing” death from cancer may be a time of family togetherness, all-night prayer vigils, hand holding and hugging and hymnody. Another’s death really is agony: dark-rooms, somber relatives, no one speaking, everyone standing at a distance.

We had a big conversation about this at my Carmelite meeting a few months ago. People told amazing stories of relatives’ deathbed conversions. Some talked about relatives who had no faith, whose deaths were *horrible.* “You could feel the demons in the room,” said one lady of her brother-in-law’s death experience. He was writhing in the bed, screaming. Suddenly, he asked for a priest. They got the priest who’d been waiting outside, blocked by the atheist relatives. The priest received the dying man into the Church, and the whole room changed.

When you hear liberals talk about death, they talk about the agonizing nature of it. And the liberals, and the media, just don’t get it. They think people have a “choice” about “end of life” care (to a certain extent, we do). They say that the Schiavo case was a matter of “choice” and “family decisions” in which the government had no place (even though it had been in court for years, and the federal involvement was merely giving the family a chance at an appeal to someone other than the corrupt judge who always ruled in Michael’s favor).

But you don’t have the choice not to accept basic nutrition. You have to the choice to refuse medical care, under certain circumstances . You do *not* have the choice to turn down basic nutrition or hydration, even to the point of refusing to provide nutritoin or hydration to a dying person when one has pulled the plug.

But his talk of the agonizing experience of watching his grandmother’s death–and how much did he actually experience? Was it agonizing because of his guilt of putting his own ambitions above family?–betrays the fact that he thinks death is something fearful.

Years ago, before my heart surgery, the topic was being discussed at a Cursillo Ultreya. Members were discussing their ailing parents and how sad it was they were dying in their 80s or whatever, and Dad said, “When John dies, it will be the happiest day of our lives. All he wants is to go to Heaven, and why should we be sad that he gets his heart’s desire?”


Here is the original link, you can comment on my page, as I’m sure the only people who will be allowed to post at their end will be those who agree with their twisted sentiments.