Better than Arnott's.

At last, some decent free stuff.

You know the beautiful hotel at on Twin Peaks? We're going somewhere as beautiful and imposing and gorgeous as that after work today - to Bugsplat's only international-standard accomodation, for dinner, wine, overnight stay, and breakfast the next morning. Gray gets to come too, because he does front counter work once a week and is working on the website, so it will be us, Sandra the finance officer and her beautiful baby, and Mia, who volunteers for us, & her partner. We have two chalets (one each for the couples) and a lakeside room for Sandra.

A big girl's blouse.

Bugsplat has a climate rather like Melbourne's. I can expect to be able to wear black skirts all through summer. And so, expecting to be able to wear black skirts all through summer, I bought three new today, one quite frilly, one less frilly than the other one, and one with a white swirl.

I was in the big girl's special shop, in Seaside City, 2 hours drive from Bugsplat. Nothing in that shop is ever too small. I like that in a shop. But.... the clothes looked so familiar. Is fashion moving extremely slowly lately or is it just big girl's clothes that never change? I was wearing this stuff four years ago in Mullumbimby. Turquoise and brown swirls. Argumentative pinks. Frills. Flounces. Sequins and beads.

It was easy today - all I wanted was black skirts and a couple of blouses.

I chose two of the least decorative blouses from the flouncy section . They're nice enough. One has some unfortunate pink floral business going on at the ends of the sleeves, but the other is really quite plain, for a big girl's blouse.

Hey you, flute-player.

I really don't want to have to take this down.
Can you keep a secret?
We do so hope you can.

The monster in the mirror.

We just watched "The Office Special". It was relentlessly mortifying.

Recognition.

Covering my eyes wasn't enough. I'd have to hide behind the couch or leave the room entirely during the most excruciating moments of Basil Fawlty on Fawlty Towers. Cringing, weeping with paralytic embarassment, I would giggle until I could scarcely breathe. Luckily, this would generally not attract attention due to the aforementioned herd of wild donkeys.

A herd of wild donkeys.

Nothing short of a herd of wild donkeys could be heard over my dad's laughter. Someone once asked me; maybe in therapy, maybe on an online quizz; what my favourite sound was. I didn't hesitate - my father's laughter. This is by way of an aside.

Free to a good home. Or, a bad home.

The Bugsplat Visitor Centre have a table booked at the market. At the Bugsplat Town Hall tomorrow I shall be grumpily attempting to price an assortment of goods - teapots, coffee sets, paperweights, books and videos. There's some really horrible things in the boxes that are accumulating on the back verandah of the Bugsplat Visitor Centre.

This week has been difficult. I know why Agatha Christie set so many of her mysteries in small country towns. There have been some consequences to do with my involvement with Block 99. Nothing I can't handle, though my landlady's lecture about the controversial political stuff we've been involved in was a masterpiece of subtle menace. The mysteries of the human condition unfold around the machinations of the White Elephant Table.

I really hate these fundraisers. They're pathetic. They don't raise enough money to cover my time if I were being paid. I often feel inclined to suggest that instead of fundraising, I take some Leave Without Pay. That way, at least I'll get some time off.

A dozen free rangers.

The post that used to be here is currently hiding in my locked journal.
I've left the comments, coz I like 'em.

Bugsplat State Forest Block. 99

Some of you know me from years and years ago.

Today we went to Bugsplat State Forest 99, with 30 or 40 other bodies, to meet, at "a picnic" at Bugsplat State Forest 99 block, to see if we can't save it. It being so incredibly beautiful and full of endangered stuff, orchids and quokkas, and a gorgeous internationally renowned walk trail called The Bibbulmun Track. And Jarrah. And Marri. And Karri. And Snottygobble. And Karri Oak. And chudditch. And hovea. And flame pea. And coral vine. And crackerjack. And cycads.

And nice sexy Bibbulmun walkers who are an asset to any community they bless with their presence. (Did I say "sexy"? I'm sure I meant "stinky".)

Please send Margaret Thorsborne / Bob Brown / Peter Garett / Beer.

Please send love.

It's time... for some lyrics.

By Tom Waits.

Time.

Well the smart money's on Harlow,
And the moon is in the street,
The shadow boys are breaking all the laws...

You're east of East St. Louis,
The wind is making speeches,
The rain sounds like a round of applause.

Napoleon is weeping,
In the Carnival Saloon,
His invisible fiance is in the mirror.

The band is going home.
It's raining hammers, it's raining nails.
Yes, it's true there's nothing left for him down here

And it's Time, Time, Time.
Time, Time, Time,
Time, Time, Time
That you love...
And it's Time, Time, Time.

They all pretend they're orphans,
Their memory's like a train.
You can see it getting smaller as it pulls away.

The things you can't remember,
Tell the things you can't forget,
That history puts a saint in every dream.

Well, she said she'd stick around,
Until the bandages came off,
But these mamas, boys, just don't know when to quit!

Matilda asks the sailors;
"Are those dreams or are those prayers?"
So just close your eyes, son, this won't hurt a bit.

And it's Time, Time, Time.
Time, Time, Time,
Time, Time, Time
That you love...
And it's Time, Time, Time.

Things are pretty lousy.
For a calendar girl,
The boys just dive right off their cars
...and splash into the streets.

And when she's on a roll,
She pulls a razor from her boot,
And a thousand pigeons fall around her feet.

So, put a candle in the window,
And a kiss upon his lips,
As the dish outside the window fills with rain.

Just like a stranger,
With weeds in your heart,
Pay the fiddler off 'till I come back again.

And why, oh why, did I rent this "little Aussie gem"?

"The Nugget."
"...more than worth its weight in gold."

The "Aussie" should have been enough of a hint.

Never rent a film that describes itself as an "Aussie" anything, Think about it. Did "Rabbit Proof Fence" describe itself as a great Aussie yarn? No. I assure you, it did not.


I did enjoy making werewolf noises at it.
That's my Friday night covered.
You?

"Best Hat", Bugsplat, Melbourne Cup Ladies Lunch, 2005.

Yes, that's right.

We won the coveted prize (Lost Lake Honey Merlot, 2005) for the best hat.
We won one of the sweepstakes too, for Makybe Diva, the favourite, $54.