What can you do when it’s so wet and humid that every piece of material in your house smells like ten pairs of dried up socks rolled in blue vein cheese and hung like streamers at a birthday party for the grouch on Sesame Street?
What do you do, when you feel like you’ve been marooned in an episode of Gilligan’s Island that has been mixed with the movie Ground Hog Day only to find out that your attempts to learn in every repetitive moment is not leading to a resolution of your whole life?
It’s time to become as creative as the writers of Seinfield and imagine Jerry, Kramer,
Elaine and George wandering around the Streets of Murray Upper wondering where to find the best by the side of the road fruit stall so they can head back home and brag about it for months on end to their newest soon to be rejected love interests.
Only Kramer better not have his foot in the mouth disease with insanely inappropriate comments when he meets the local Indigenous community. What is it with washed up actors and comedians who shoot off at the mouth and reveal when they are drunk that they need to get a social, historical, political education to take them out of the 1930s?
The big wet times of the year in North Queensland are as inevitable as the ending of your favourite show with too many plot intrigues and stars asking for big hikes in salary with an overinflated sense of their own worth to the television executives.
Rain is inevitable whenever you are outside without a raincoat or umbrella, and the further you are away from the car, the more torrential and wild it is going to be. Have you ever been so wet that your bones need wringing out and you’re sure that you can hear the water wriggling around in there like a case of rather nasty worms, whilst you sleep?
Our house – in the super duper like a with the lot burger that makes any reasonable human being sick, wet – is like Noah’s ark – only the two by twos are every variety of insect, frog, toad and rodent fleeing the floods, not to mention a possible crocodile husband and wife that might just like to come and try our guinea pigs for tea.
Boogy boards are essential to wet days as they represent one of the ways kids can have fun as long as they manage to stay away from storm drains and of course the wandering crocodiles that have escaped from one of those b grade movie sets.
And it’s a foregone conclusion that you will be the one person to live right next to the oval where the crocodiles boogy board the floods of the never ending wet and end up eating your chickens.
A break from the writeup of the Brisbane Adventure, due to the arrival of the wet season.
Will the wet season arrive? Will we dodge cyclone warnings? Will we be flooded in?
This is a time to wake each day and listen to the radio whilst having breakfast, because announcements about non-accessible roads are inevitable. North Queensland Tropical city and country living is punctuated by the wet season. Although this year we have as a community been debating if it’s going to happen as it seems to have been unusually dry.
This morning David, my husband, woke up to the sound of the pounding rain, was on his way to check the bom site when the phone rang, and the Principal of the school we live next to asked how the roads were looking near us.
David then drove off to check the roads and came home with a report of where the water was over. There were still some roads open and the road to Tully was open. It was looking like going to work at highschool was going to happen.
This was followed by a call from the bus driver, saying so far so good, they would be running so a normal day was on the cards. However, this was shortly followed by a call from the bus driver again – saying, no the roads are looking dodgy and waters are rising fast we won’t be running the buses.
Next step in this wet season saga is that David then becomes a primary school teacher for the day, as well as having to plan his lessons for the day at the high school. He phones the Vice Principal at the high school to let him know the situation as well as his staff room to pass on lesson plans.
Before long parents rock up to our door step to check he will be teaching and drop their kids off at school; it looks like no other staff will be in and so our youngest son will let Dad know the routines of the day. He has a few tips from the Principal –but she has been away for two weeks on long service leave and is not sure what the kids are up to.
I make lunches for David and my two kids who will be heading to the Primary School.
Our youngest and our daughter, who’s in the first year of high school, are off to the Primary school with their Dad. Youngest is excited to have Dad teaching for the day with no real set program. His Dad is a talented teacher and can think on his feet, this should stand him in good stead today. I think though perhaps he is wondering how many kids he will actually have and thinking back to what works best with primary school kids as he is high school trained.
The Principal is not coming in, as her road may be cut off, and if buses don’t run she is advised not to head to the school, and it seems unlikely any other staff are going to be able to make it in either as they live down side roads that are flooded in on days like this.
Our Eldest decides to stay home and work on an assignment. I am working on an exhibition and have loads to do. I might just check how they are all going later. The exact number of children arriving today is an unknown factor.
My daughter pops home to pick up Dad’s glasses – as he can’t leave the school being the only staff member there.
So how else do people approach the wet season?
The rained in days can become days of reflection, and meditation – to celebrate the wet tropics. They can be places of a comma or full stop in life – a time to take a breath before moving on with normal routines.
Yesterday we went to observe a waterfall awash with so much water from rain it was majestic. The leaves of the plants and trees on the way to the waterfall were all glossy and green with the rainwater sheen. They looked like they had been varnished. It was refreshing to escape from the indoors to enjoy the rain. Wet seasons are what they are and as long as you are prepared for the adventures and full stops you cope just fine.
Our kid’s sneakers were wet, and headed for the dryer when we arrived home to be ready for the morning adventures.
Now back to today – the rain has cheekily stopped, but the day is set, and until 3pm David is a primary school teacher.
I have been thinking a lot about this lately. After completing a PhD at the University of Sydney six years ago I was tired. I had done this with three kids, several house moves, a year off studies to work full time, and my hubby being a student for much of it also. I had been trying to be superwoman and it had been tough. I have to say my house was rather messy during this time and we lived nowhere near extended family either. The kids went to childcare sparingly as I wanted to see as much of them as I could whilst they were growing up.
I needed a rest ! When I say a rest, I mean some time to be with family and in a way myself. Luckily my dear partner got a regular job as a teacher, and I was able to take a break from studies and paid employment. It was like taking a deep breath to think about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.
We moved to the country in the midst of all this – and my time of reinvention was punctuated by being in a town with few paid opportunities for a tertiary trained teacher, and limited choices in employment. I was probably ready to do paid work around three years ago but it’s taken a while to realise what sort.
I have come to know that the paths open to me in the country lie in business, retraining to be a highschool teacher or even arts counsellor, making it as a writer/freelancer. There is one other option and that is to leave for a university town and return to the tertiary sector.
I stand at a cross roads, with the experience of having been through a cyclone, coordinating community writing projects and on the verge of doing my first solo book and photography projects.
I am pretty certain I don’t want to teach highschool or primary, although I don’t mind guest spots to come and work with youth mentoring particularly in creative things.
Sometimes people don’t understand I can’t volunteer anymore, but need to build a future for my family – and move into regular paid work and business. I may even do both. When I am older and more established or if I make it big time I can give back more. This is the prime of life to be earning and building something to retire from paid employment later. As I move away from the voluntary sphere I hope people understand that does not lessen my love for community.
How long have women struggled to have access to the freedom and independance of paid work?
Yet, the work, homelife, spiritual balance has been crucial to my well being. I don’t regret my time out to know my family and myself. In that crucial time I have not stopped contributing to my community and my family. I have been the writing stay at home mum who loves to take photographs everywhere. Whilst some laugh at me, even ask what on earth are you doing, I know privately that my command of my camera has improved and that I love it and will always take pictures now. I can’t imagine not working at the art of photography.
I have also – done three community writing projects, mentored kids at camps, given workshops, tutored, been involved in my kids schools and lives and learnt heaps about myself and others. I say this because I know many other so called stay at home mums, like myself who don’t stay at home at all. We are based at home but we actively contribute to the community and our families.
I have been both supermum and stay at home Mum and somewhere at the end of all of the being wife and mother I am June who loves to write, take photographs and make digital arts. I recognise that I am so privileged to have a chance to get to know myself and others in my six years of so called slowing down (:
I hope the world will accept me for who I am and what I can offer and I am glad to be finding my way with the help of other bloggers and through the opportuntiies writing has offered me.
The time of reinvention is here! It is both exhilirating and scary, as my children move out into the world, so does their Mum. How many other Mums and people out there are going through this journey?
So it’s raining – and our wet season, which is deciding whether to arrive keeps threatening. Just a moment ago we couldn’t see the canefields across the road.
I’ve spent the morning trying to fend off a cold. As well as having all my kids at home sick with coughs that would drive their teachers mad and are consequently instead leading to Mum needing ear muffs. Poor little mites. Time to whip out that hot lemon.
They are settled in watching the Oscars, after eating some tinned spaghetti.
Wonder what they will be eating at the Oscars, Billy Crystal says there is a smorgasboard on offer.
So far we have been treated to some documentary and special effects awards. The beauty of it is that all the results are live, no more waiting until the actual night when it’s all a repeat and you just know the results. What’s the fun in an award night with no suspense, an awards day where results are unknown is much better if you can have it, which we can. With all the internet coverage they are now screening it twice, and those of us at home for any reason can watch it live on tv. I think they realise if they don’t we can and will watch it somewhere on the internet.
Billy is a relaxed and genial host, who is funny but never upsets the establishment. Yet Oscar humour always has a mixed history, sometimes the jokes only work on the audience, well if you are to believe their laughter; around the world Oscar humour can fall embarrasingly flat, but does anyone tell the academy – only the savaging after the event critics. Perhaps though it is because the jokes can be ‘in jokes’ that mainly the actors, directors and writers get.
How cool Christopher Plummer from Sound of Music fame, a movie he reportedly did not like, as well as a few other films just got an Oscar. Now that’s brilliant. He’s only two years older than the actual Ocars themselves and after a life time of acting he finally makes it. The audience so appreciate his win it takes a while for them to let him speak. I am enjoying his speech. What a romantic ending, to thank his wife and give her the nobel peace prize for her patience and long suffering. A little cliched of course. Yet it’s so hearfelt and he seems to have been with her so long it’s not quite like the average celebrity marriage. They probably deserve an oscar for that one too – although it is his third marriage so who knows.
The romance continues with another awardee thanking his wife, and begging for extra time to share the love and give the love! I am remembering emotions more than names here but then if you want names just go to the Oscar Blog.
Now as well as the Oscars I am considering my blog and what it’s goal is. I am officially abandoning this month’s challenge, which was 8 interconnected story posts (I got to three) and considering my writing identity. Must be the rainy weather sending me on this writing identity quest. Or maybe I am just sick of that pesky bird – who is gurgling and singing and inspired my writing quest and then left me high and dry, but today is wet so I am paddling out with my writing again! But where it the bird. The bird is a footnote!
I love to read and write in so many genres. Where is my focus? This question keeps cropping up the last few months and I am finally getting around to answer it.
I blog anything that moves me to write, especially our country life, art, creativity, photographty and events that I feel inspired by local and global (hence my lack of discussing at any great length the antics of our country’s leaders and the fact we still have a certain red head as our Prime Minister. I’ll leave that to all the facebook forums. My comment was to post a picture of Ghandi! On my facebook page and say we needed some more spiritual ethical leaders to run the place). Key word ‘inspired;’ so what inspires me today – Billy Crystal
Billy Crystal is now making me giggle with impersonations. He is brilliant! Just so natural, I don’t think anyone can host the Oscars like he does. No wonder they keep asking him back.
Now there’s another thankyou speech of someone indebted to his wife, but who also grew up to work with the legendary ‘Muppets.’ Maybe my daughter’s dream of growing up to meet a dragon might just come true, all she has to do is meet a puppet or a blue screen with dragon on a screen.
Now Angelina Jolie takes to the stage. It’s the Scriptwriters turn to be acknowledged. Anticlimax, no speech as Woody Allen is not there to accept his.
Now actors share their favourite movies – and they are talking about the power of stories
What makes you laugh? What makes you cry? What are the moments of dignity?
Sounds like the pathway of writers, not just in film but in so many genres. The scriptwriters have actors to help them on their way, the writer of the story flat on the page, must transport the reader beyond the page into their imagination. The writer’s friends are words, their collaborators are editors. Writing about the art of writing, can lead to a maze.
Are you writing entrapped in the art itself? How are you going to climb out of that writing box?
Australia Day Award – Cultural Medal June Perkins – Taken by David Perkins
At the Academy Awards they are now speaking about high speed digital cameras and I am thinking about the power of my Nikon to collect footage for family films. I have entered a small film competition for the first time, with my movie about Pam and Joe. I’d love to win some extra money to make some more short films. Maybe I should aim for Tropfest, who knows?
What subject can I find in this rain, cane and spagetti afternoon with sick children who are looking for something to make them not feel blue?
So now the rain begins again, making the world outside invisible in shades of grey and the Perkins’s (minus one member) continue watching the Oscars punctuated by ads about consildating debt and so on.
Our town does not have a cinema, but only projection screens and businesses or the highschool who put on films. You have to journey more than an hour either direction to find a cinema. People do that and make a night of it.
One cinema at Babinda, I’ve heard from friend, is like travelling back through time. The old style has been retained and the town prides itself on this. I think I better make a trip there one day as that sounds fun, although too far back and I would be dealing with colour bars depending on where I lived. Not all of us want to live in the past where there was a lot of prejudice against migrants and those of ‘colour.’ I don’t like that term, the ‘coloured’ – aren’t we all full of some colour – and does that make others the ‘uncoloured.’
The challenges of country life – no cinema, no access to a gp for 6 weeks if you are sick (unless you head off to the hospital ringing it at 8.30am). I wonder if any kids out there- at home sick, watching the academy awards will grow up and make movies. Or become doctors, head on home and stop these 6 week waits.
Will they talk about the country environments that inspired them? Will they look back at history and critique it? Will they find novels about country life to inspire scripts? Maybe they will not look back at country life, but look forward – into the future? Will there be any country life left when all the farmers sell up because their kids don’t want to come home and run the farms? Larger farms, fewer owners, what does it all mean for the future?
Oprah Winfrey’s honorary Oscar for Humanitarian purposes brings a tear to my eye. What an inspiring lady! And it’s a trip down memory lane through all the parts of James Earl Jones. And now for the in memoriam section of the Oscars, farewells to all the buried actors, writers and producers…
Meryl Streep is slightly embarrased to be up on stage for the third time, best actress, for an invokation of Margaret Thatcher – but a deep breath and she’s away – beginning with thanking her partner, not ending with thanking him. She is celebrating friendship, new and old and with those present and those now gone from this life.
Do they make movies in heaven?
What is the best movie of the year? — The Artist, A silent and black and white movie takes it out, and it seems that movies travel back in time to achieve a dream for some film-makers.
So that’s the Oscars at home with the Perkins’s. A space to watch the rain on cane, dream, think about the wonders of writing and care for the beloved treasure of this world children. For a full list of winners if you are interested — read here. Now I end with a few questions.
Why do you go to the movies?What is your favourite movie? How far do you have to travel to the movies at a cinema?
I have to thank Les Harris from Cardwell for coming and removing a 1.7 Brown Tree Snake from one of our bird cages (after it had a breakfast of our dearly beloved quails.)
Danger: Non-venomous However bites can cause serious reactions especially in young children.
Common in and around Brisbane. Adults feed mainly on birds, including birds in cages. Active at night.
Diet: small birds and eggs, occasionally small mammals
Les took the opportunity to do a short talk and first aid basics for the kids at the primary school just next door and gave his card to the Principal if any more snakes be found.
I think the kids at the school will all be wearing their shoes and keeping a look out for any thing slippering and slinky today.
Les’s advice if I see any more, leave them alone they usually just go away, or maybe squirt with a hose, or gently shoo of with a broom handle, don’t get to close….
Will leave the rest of this story for a post I think I’ll write for ABC open about our morning with a brown tree snake. Will let you know if it gets posted.
It might be timely with so many of them hanging around. I think this post like the snakes will need a bit of care – and I need time to tell the story really well – but honestly if you don’t like snakes and the thought of removing them – snake handlers are a WONDER not to mention a good precaution if you are not sure how to tell if its venomous.
Do you have a story about snakes? The kids at the primary school certainly did!
June Paisa Perkins 