Red Lights!

I cross the road when the little man is red…but only on one way streets or two way streets with a safety island. Yesterday I saw two girls cross a two way street without a safety island on red.

This was a bad plan on their part. They ended up going over the bonnet of a Sydney taxi. I watched in horror as they both rolled over the bonnet then bounced to the ground. They both got up and were helped to the side of the road. The cab driver had stopped and was hanging about and the police and an ambulance were called.

I do know that the one of the girls had hurt her hand as she was having trouble moving it, but she and her friend left before the ambulance arrived. Tut...tut, but I get the feeling they wanted no part of the Police part, as the whole thing was their fault.

Anyway…back to me. I didn’t learn anything from my visual experience and only half an hour later, Edna and I were crossing a two lane road (with an safety island, mind you) before returning to the office.

I really should think back to my school days and use the Green Cross Code.

(168 words)

Scary Hairy

I got stuck in a lift last night…it was not a nice experience and the reason I don’t really like lifts in the first place.

I got in at B1 (the basement) and pushed the button for level 7 (were I live). The doors closed then it started moving. Suddenly it shuddered and shock for a second of two then stopped. I waited, then jumped up and down a bit (I’ve heard that can get ‘em moving again) then I pressed the alarm. After a brief conversation with the disembodied male voice on the other end I sat down and waited for the ‘engineer’.

Forty minutes later the thing moved and the doors opened were I had started. It was a tad surreal it was as if the last forty minutes hadn’t even happened. A vortex of time that will never be returned to you.

I suppose I should be thankful, it didn’t pause on a high level and if the break thingys did fail completely I only had a few feet to drop before hitting the ground.

(151 words)

Ohh Ohh!

I just got the call that tells me another newsletter has been printed and is ready to be posted. I get so excited every time this happens. I can’t really explain the feeling, but I’ll try.

All my hard work over the last few months is finally finished. The compiling of news stories from around the world, the convincing of people to write articles, the convincing businesses to part with hard earned cash to advertise. Then comes the waiting…waiting for all this stuff to land on my desk, normally it requires chasing up, but sometimes I get lucky and it just arrives. The layouts come next, paper strewn across the floor for what seems like days on end, the cat help sort of course! I mull thing over, move things about, lose sleep, move things about a bit more.

After it is all said and done, it gets printed. 225 copies get stuffed into envelopes with letters and whiz their way across NSW and indeed the world (we have subscribers in Europe and an American contributor). Still, after this effort I still have people who complain that ‘this is needed’ and ‘that was a waste of space’ etc. The saying you can never please everyone and it’s very true. But really what makes all my volunteer effort worth it is when just one person takes the time to say ‘I really enjoy the newsletter and wait for it to arrive’.

(240 words)

Never drop...

…a telly on your knee.

I was helping my friend Edna move a washing machine and telly yesterday. We got the washing machine in its room and plumbed in fine. Then we started moving the telly. All was going well until I failed to miss the eight inch concrete step behind me as I was shuffling backwards. I landed on my arse (luckily it has plenty of padding) followed by the telly ramming into the side of my left knee. The comedy factor came in watching me try to heft the damn thing out of my lap so I could stand again. All was well, nothing broken, and the rest of the trip from the car to the flat was pretty much uneventful.

Later, when home I realised the damage that had been done when I got up from the sofa and seized into an ‘old lady’ crouch. My bum muscle hurt, my knee hurt and quite frankly I wanted to cry! Later, Puss didn’t help (even though, to be fair he was trying) when he jumped up onto the bed for a cuddle and landed on my knee. Not once, not twice but three times.

Picture of bruise available upon request!

(202 Words)

I'm Back Again

I’ve been away and lots has happened, here’s a quick recap;
Nnenna and Sara have been kicked Americas Next Top Model,
I’ve finished a major project at work,
My nineteen year old nephew died,
Bought an alpaca,
Bought Robbie Williams and Boy from Oz tickets,
I’ve edited my way through to the end of another alpaca magazine,
Had a bar-b-que in the pouring rain (very English)
I saw Germany win against Ecuador in the world cup,
And I went to a wedding

So… let’s look at the last two.

I’m English, but now live in Australia, so how did I end up watching a Germany football match until two in the morning? I have been asking myself that question all week while sitting at my desk feeling like death warmed up. Although the answer is really very simple, my good friend, Edna Wilt asked me to help her support her home team. Off to the bierkeller (pub) we trotted with hubby and buddy to have a few bevvies (we were actually served by a guy called Jurgen who spoke German) and grub followed by cheering on of the Germans. It was a good an Okay game, but the Ecuadorians were outclassed by the Germans and the final score was 2-0. It was only after the game we learned they had fielded their second team to save energy for when they play England.

In late May I took a very brief trip back to the UK (three and half days) to visit the folks back home, but most of all to attend the wedding of a very good and old friend of mine. If fact, so close, that we were first loves. Anyway…I turned up at the pre wedding drinks the night before to surprise the groom. After a big hug and a couple of drinks, I retreated to my hotel for much needed sleep. The next day I went to the wedding. Being the ex-girlfriend I decided to go dressed in red. UK fashions didn’t let me down and despite being spring/summer all the ladies were dressed in beige or pale blue, or even both! The wind howled, but the rain stayed away, I was freezing even though I was the only one who had come from winter.

The groom arrived, followed shortly by his family whom I hadn’t seen for years. They were really pleased to see me and I got hugs. We all filed inside for the service. The bride arrived wearing an ivory drop waist dress with beaded bodice and chiffon overskirt. The bouquet was made up from blue and white flowers, it was quite nice actually. The service came and went with little drama regardless of the girl how stood up and sang a song a capella. By the time she was only half way through many faces screamed ‘kill me now’. Anyway…the photos were skipped due to the wind, I popped out back to escape and caught up with the grooms niece (when I met her she was three, now she in her twenties, smokes, swears like a trooper and has appeared nude on a calendar). The reception, food and speeches followed (the brown rice broke my teeth). During his speech the Father of the Bride waxed lyrical about his daughter and how lucky they were to have a new son etc. etc. blar-de-blar then toasted them with the wrong surname. In fact, he toasted the new couple by her first married name (faux pas one). The assembled crowd giggled nervously.

After the speeches the Groom mother (who is in her 70’s) decided to make a graceful exit before the ‘youngsters started getting on down’. I popped out to say goodbye as well as the groom, his sister and niece and the bride. After we had said our goodbyes the Mother of the groom turned to the bride, took her hand in hers and said ‘Welcome to the family Jodie’. Now the bride is called Karen (faux pas two) I pulled a ohh-no face and slinked away, the niece cracked up laughing and the mother in law ignored it. The bride however had a face like a slapped arse and thunder clapped above her head.

I spent the rest of the day moving away when I saw the bride…it was only far I think…and catching up with the grooms family. At about ten o’clock I left, but not before the bride giving me a hug and saying ‘Groom is SOO happy you could make it’. The meaning of the lack of ‘We’ was not lost on me.

(764 words)