Well, Excuse Me!

I’m pretty sure I’ve asked this before, but I’m going to ask it again, anyway. Why are people so rude of the train?

For starters, it’s the people just stand and glare at the back of your head when they want to get off the train and you are between them and the exit. Rather than say something, such as, ‘Excuse me’ or even ‘Excuse me, please.’ They just push past you and huff, as if your psychic abilities should have let you know they wanted to get off the train.

Today however, I lost it. I had a very long day yesterday and am exhausted today even after a reason eight hours of sleep. I drove over 400kms to move four alpacas. Left home at 10am, drove to Ourimbah on the central coast, chased the animals into a van, had my bones rattled while I drove to Windsor pulling into a Maccas drive through for lunch. Dropped the small herd off at their new home, then got back into the van and drove back to the Central Coast to pick up the car. I had a friend with me, but it’s still a hard trip. On the way back into to town we stopped for dinner at Taxim in Hornsby. It was at this point that I realised it would have been my 12th wedding anniversary and Hubby and I had our last anniversary dinner at the very same place. I got home at 8pm, had a bath, checked my email then went to bed. Puss curled up with me.

Anyway…back to train rudeness. I was running a tad late this morning, but got to the station with a few minutes to spare, so I was feeling alright. I hadn’t had to run. Got on and stood until the next station where I have to change trains. When the next train pulled into the station I was stood in just the right place for the doors. The train came to a stop and I stood to the side so passengers could get off. Then I went to move forward, a small man pushed between me and the side of the train. He pushed so hard I bumped into the person standing to my right, starting a domino effect. He rushed onto the train, bumping into people getting off and down the stairs. He jumped into the last seat. I wasn’t too far behind him and found myself, really pis8ed off, much more so than normal, because he had been so supremely rude and his actions had affected more than just me. I looked at him as I took up position leaning on the back of a seat, with hand hold digging into my spine, and the following went through my head;

‘You rude fu8ker!’

Apparently, I also said it, quite loudly. A couple of the people who had followed me on, and seen his display smiled and nodded. One said, ‘I couldn’t agree more.’ and glowered at him. He must have had a dozen or so, sets of upset eyes looking at him. But he steadfastly refused to move and got his book out.

I got a seat at Strathfield.


- The herd says goodbye to Wispa, Arabella, Bertie and Eric.

RIP Doughnut

The little cria Wispa had on the 3rd January passed away over night because of tick poisoning. The vet tried everything he could but as usual with these thing it was not to be. She only had a short life, but but it was a happy one on green grass with a mother who loved her.

I'm a Grandma Again

- 'You're too close to my baby!'

At just before 1am the phone rang. It was Hubby and he had news. Wispa had had her cria on the 3rd January 2008. A little brown girl.

- I proudly present baby alpaca with her mother Wispa

- Life's taken it's toll already it seems

- 'I can feel the fly, but I can't reach it'

My Day in Numbers – Part 5

6 – the day of the week
120 – minutes alone in a marquee defending fleeces, selling raffle tickets, telling people alpacas are cute…etc
120 – the minute I snapped at a lady I had already asked not to touch the fleeces, nicely. Well, she did it again.
125 – the first volunteer decided it was a good time to turn up
10 – minutes of time out and away from General Public
100+ - time I realised that General Public is a twit, again!
1 – mini melt-down
1245 – another volunteer turned up
1700 – closed up and ran away to Sydney were I was to meet with normal, sensible people to see…
2 – great bands, Powderfinger and Silverchair
4 – hours of fun and groovin’ to fantastic music with over
18,000 – other fans who had dragged themselves out to Acer Arena on a Saturday night (see Silverfinger/Powderchair entry for more details on the gig).

My Day in Numbers – Part 2

‘Cause I really don’t want to be here, I’m going to cronical my involvement in the Flora Fest display in numbers.

839 – the time I got up
900 – the time I was supposed to be at the marquee
35 – minutes late for setting up the display
4 - helpers, three from Taree and Macksville
1 – major downpour
1 – wet passenger seat when I couldn’t wind up the car window
123 – dollars to buy a new car battery, when the old one died
1 – time down Kariong Hill
1 – trip to Bunnings (for tarps and cable ties, don’t ask) and Officeworks for sugar
20 – bales of straw
10 – fleeces for sale
8 – mannequins dressed in groovy Alpaca outfits
3 – males mannequins without pants with everything hanging out (well they would have done, if they had any genitals)
135 – kilometres to pick op the 2008 Alpaca Hmmm… calendar
500 – hot looking calendars
1940 – the time I got home
2 – pairs of trousers of Hubbies that will be on mannequins tomorrow

Don't Drive Tired

- 450 kilometres
- One trip from Sydney to Morpeth, via Gosford and Tuggerah
- 4 times up Kariong hill
- 3 times into Mount Panang gardens to find the marquee missing one side
- 3 phonecalls to the marquee people to fix the tent
- Twice into Officeworks to get ripped off for printing
- Twice into Spotlight to buy ‘display materials’
- Twice into the petrol station to fill up (I will be claiming petrol)
- Once into Big W to buy sweeties, if i have to stand in a cold marquee for four days I want carbohydrates.
- 8 alpaca outfits for mannequins
- 1 occurrence of having the phone put down on me ‘cause I had the nerve to ask if someone had sent the raffle ticket back in the SSAE provided.

8.30am start, 9pm finish.

ALPACA ULTIMATIUM

After a great night out on Friday/Saturday morning I dragged my butt out of bed at 8.30 to drive up to the Central Coast and mingle with alpaca people in order to get them to volunteer for a display that I have ended up convening.

I’m not quite sure how it happened but it did, and being a woman of my word I find myself in a position that I have been in at other times, but this time, for some reason it seems to be worse. It was a beautiful sunny, winter day but I found myself feeling physically sick, deep in the pit of my stomach. Despite not having a lot of sleep, I wasn’t suffering a hangover, so it wasn’t that. I feel like, for the last two and half years I’ve only spoken to these people to ask for stuff.

Will you advertise in the newsletter?
Will write up that great story you just told me?
Will you be a volunteer at this and that display?
Will you host a meeting?
Will sponsor a month on the calendar?
Will you sell/buy a raffle ticket?

Granted, most of the time they’ve said yes. I seem to have the magic touch and I’ve been told I could sell sand to the Arabs, but I hate being like this. It all started as trying to do good marketing for a growing industry, but I am well and truly picking up my ball and going home. I’ve had enough!

Being around people who could have once been called friends now makes me feel ill, drained and exhausted. The negative energy that emits from a certain few (those mentioned in other posts mostly) effects my well being to such a degree that it starting zapping my lifeforce before I even get close. I feel the Carnations eyes boring into me. Now, I understand that this in purely physocologically, but you know what? I don’t need this type of shit, ever!

I have just one more thing to do (because I said I would, actually I never said I would, but it’s only two weeks away so a bit late to bale) and that is take a week of work (without pay) and run the alpaca display at the Australian Springtime Flora Festival in Gosford on the weekend that George Bush is turning Sydney into his own little fortress aka APEC. Then I will have nothing more to do with the alpaca industry except to enjoy the beautiful majestic animals it claims to want to promote.

Wish me luck!

Wind and Sun Burn

After drive all day on Saturday I repeated the experience on Sunday. This time it was just under 500 kilometres and heading north to Gloucester. There was an alpaca meeting, starting at ten. The wind was blowing a gale, but the sun was shining its little heart out. So twenty odd people, including the entire executive committee gathered on a veranda to have the last OGM with the current bunch of work horses (aka committee).

Being outside in the wind and sun for four hours isn’t a good idea in Aussie, even in the middle of winter. I had on four layers of jumpers, gloves, a beanie and sun glasses and I still managed to burn my lips. They currently have that, I’ve eaten too much chilli feel and people at work have commented I look a bit pink. Nice!

I’m at work now and feel like I haven’t had a weekend at all. I’ve driven (or been passenger) for over a 1000 kilometres and sat through several hours of meetings. I been bone chilling, teethe clatteringly cold and got sun burnt. I’ve been roped into doing another year as newsletter and I didn’t manage to offload the convening of Flora Fest in September.

It’s also looking like the next six months are going to be so busy at work that I may have to take a leave of absence from my Masters so I can fit everything in

How am I ever going to get rid of all this alpaca stuff? Ideas gratefully received.

Ammonia

Over 500 kilometres and seven hours in the drivers seat I got home after picking up the girls from Canyonleigh and driving them to Ourimbah. Only ten minutes to go and Wispa, Arabella and Bertie decided that it was time to have a pee.

It was seven degrees outside and I had forgotten my coat earlier so I was driving in shirt sleeves, but still I drove with the windows down!

- Bertie (foreground), Arabella and Wispa are unimpressed by the prospect of a couple of hour in teh back of a van

Kurraki Alto

In all the bad weather it looks like we may have lost Alto.

He was in a paddock that flooded and at this time I find myself hoping for the best (that he swam away to high ground is now nice and warm in a shed somewhere) but I know in my hearts of hearts that he isn’t.

Keep your fingers crossed for him we won’t know ‘til the flood water subside.

Alto at one week old with his Mum, Wispa (25th April 2005)

Alto jumping for carrots (September 2006)

Standing Tall (September 2006)

Armidale – Wool Expo

After a quick hop from Sydney to Armidale (500kms) on Friday night then a committee meeting where we happily committed to spend $20,000 on a new trailer, a cal…ohh you don’t care! ;-) I don’t even care and I’m responsible for at least $8000 of that (raffle, cal…once again, you don’t care).

Saturday saw us rising at a stupid hour for a weekend morning and making our way to the Armidale show grounds for Wool Expo. Once there I manned the raffle ticket table all day and entertained the kids with lucky dips. Hubby took pictures of the show taking place at the other end of the marquee.

In the evening we left all the wool people, both of the alpaca and sheep kind to their barn dance and went to the movies. We saw Spiderman 3. both Edna and theotherandrew were right, it good for eye candy and it is 16 hours long.

Sorry Edna, but I like Tobey Macquire, but as we have established on many of our evenings of cider + over analysis…I like dorks!

But the highlight of the evening was getting back to our hotel and watching the qualifying round of Eurovision! Hosted by the traditional - she who wears a hot pink fish tail dress and he who dons a whiter than white suit. Edited highlights below…unlike SBS…

Viva La Eurovision!

Countdown in Finnish! (most certainly spelt wrong three, two, one in Finnish)…
Goalme
Gooxie
Uooksie

Bulgaria – Bondage chain mail outfits with kick arse drums and lots of red
Iceland – I know you’re Europe but when did this turn into the Imitate your favorite 80s hair rock band Contest?
Switzerland – When did Bonnie Tyler do vampire chic?
Albania – When did Andrew Lloyd Webber start writing songs for Eurovision?
Denmark – Ohh my god! Priscilla eat your heart out?
Serbia – Androgynous opera with big heavy glasses.
Czech Republic – ZZTop when they were 30
Portugal – Euro pops in really short ruffled white PVC
FYR Macedonia – The mirror trousers blinded me to the music…and they qualified!
Norway – The amazing ripable dress, just like Bucks Fizz circa 198something
Malta – ‘Loving you gives me vertigo’ with lyrics and shirtless violin player/gong banger was gob smacked!
Hungary – A bus top sign and suitcase helped the song how…and what’s with the Sandie Shaw ripoff by going barefoot?
Estonia – ‘we’re sitting in the rain and sipping cold champagne’ was the stunning opening line to a wind machine on overdrive, and they didn’t get through…shame!
Belgium – described a cross between Mika and Huggybear in gold lame and a back up playing piano/guitar wearing a turgoise wide collar with white tie, sh*t, but really excited.
Slovenia - Looks like Mortica Addams in a leather bodice and rag skirt. In her right hand she had a panel of LED’s that she used to light her face. Sounded like a nice song but I couldn’t understand it.
Turkey – ‘Shake it up, shake in, tell me what you’re thinking’ sung by PT Burham
Austria - The more interesting thing about this one was the back up dancers dressed in red feather boa and sequins and the fact the singer emerged out of a a giant boa and the pyrotechnics.
Latvia – the guys were wearing top hats and carrying white roses… It was the Six Latvian Tenors in Denim! Weirdly enough, it could be a winner.

Long Weekend Informathon

After driving up to the house on Thursday night I took the chance to have a good undisturbed sleep and got up just after ten on Friday morning. Without Hubby sawing and chopping his way through the planets old growth forests overnight I get a lots of quality sleep. I spent Friday reading and writing for uni work. I did have a break and watched My Fair Lady and wondered for the first time ever how this movie got made.

Don’t get me wrong, I love this movie and it deserves the Oscars it won, but these days there is no way this movie would be made. It’s sexist, racist, derogatory to women and ‘poor’ people, elitist and downright scary if you consider the scene where the housekeeper takes Eliza for a bath. It couldn’t be more un-PC if it tried.

Anyway, back to me weekend. On Saturday Hubby and I drove out to the show. The Sydney Royal Easter Show that is. The banners this year are selling it as ‘see the real Australia’. The real Australia my eye! It’s only the real Australia if Australia is all about flogging cheap crap in ‘showbags’ and flinging people around for exorbitant prices in vomit comets. I suppose you could be excused for saying that all the animals on show are ‘the Real Australia’, but then I suppose I’m used to seeing animals in large open paddocks with grass to eat instead of in a pen three metres square. I know I’m lucky to see animals this way. They all look so sad and bored when they’re in pens. We had gone out to the show to see the alpacas, so I could do my roving reporter bit and Hubby could perform his duties as unofficial regional photographer. Ohh… yeah and we saw the same Giant Pumpkins I followed thrugh the Blue Mountain a couple of weeks back. The day turned into a ‘Why are we doing all this voluntary work’ day.

We came to the conclusion that we don’t get anything out of it. We don’t help anyone. We spend a huge amount on travel to places we don’t want to go because of it. We sacrifice a lot of time to it, sometimes to the detriment of other things in our lives. And on top of that we get grief, to the point neither of us pick our email up at the weekends anymore ‘cause we don’t know what it will hold in store for us. The final conclusion; as of July, it’s over…they have done what they do to all regional volunteers, they have chewed us up and spat us out.

Sunday saw us have a day of rest, well sort of. Hubby was busy putting the finishing touches to the new PC while I did some more reading for Uni. The trouble with reading, lying on the bed after a nice comfortable lunch; the irresistible urge to sleep. Maybe I needed it? I know I felt a lot better when I woke up two hours later. I hadn’t even lost my place in my book. Sunday evening saw us both sat on the sofa watching movies and having a nice glass of wine or three.

Yesterday I got into my school work early. I even woke up before Hubby which is a rare occurrence at the weekends. I have 4 assignments due in 3 weeks. Not through bad planning but bad luck of the draw. I get them done, but I’m working on the hardest one first.

Lunch set the day as it was to be…we had an argument over Hubby having a Hungry Jacks and me not wanting anything wheat based. When we got home we where still tiffing and after I’d cleaned out the cat litter trays, Hubby went out to get more Litter. When he got back we spent the next FIVE hours in sometimes heated discussion about how he feels unloved and unwanted and how I was a selfish, greedy person. Now it’s all out in the open maybe things can move on. (Please understand I’m giving you full details, those that are close to me will get them though ;-.)

I slept horribly and feel like crap today, but that’s not stopping me going to the Hopetoun tonight for another dose of The Basics.

(702 words)

Travelling Saleswoman – Day Three

After a little lie-in I got up at eight to find my host out in the paddocks with her farm hand (ohh…nearly a Jodie Story in that ;-) cutting alpaca toe nails. She has to cut toenails every four months. Because her animals grown such fabulous fleece, they also grow long toenails. So her hottie farm hand (HFH) was holding the alpacas as she cut. He was straight out of a GQ ‘Men from the Outback’ photo shoot. Brown work boots, camel moleskins, blue vest t-shirt and worn Akubra hat. Not to mention abs, biceps and thighs of steel straining the fabric of his trousers. I distracted myself by taking pictures of alpacas.

Just after ten I left Orange and drove to the Lithgow office to deliver the last of the week sessions. I turned up to a depot in the backwaters of Lithgow (farside of Blue Mountains from Sydney) to find out I had to deliver my spiel in a shed with no air-con or fan while the temperature soared to 34degrees the temperature inside must have been at least ten to fifteen degrees warmer. I have never sweated so much in my life. I had a very elegant trail of sweat running down my after about two minutes in the room. But like a stoic hard core training deliver I stuck it out and got through. As soon as I got in the car I kicked off my girl shoes, peeled of my tights and slipped in my sandals. I felt disgusting. Like I’d jumped into a pool of warm water and got straight into the car. Eww!

I had to drive through the Blue Mountains to get home. The roads have the most annoying speed limits…40, 80, 50, to 40, then up to 90 then down to 50 again. It took me over an hour to traverse the Mountains, but if I hadn’t been driving so slow I would never have seen the giant pumpkins.

(328 words)

Travelling Saleswoman - Day Two

Thursday dawned in Parkes and I felt quite rested, but then after nearly twelve hours sleep I suppose I should do. The sessions went well although it turned out that I knew, or rather someone in the first session knew of me. So at the very start of the session I was asked about the head shave and had to take of the wig I was wearing. I got good feedback about the sessions and they all liked the sweeties given out at the end. Who said adults weren’t really a bunch of big kids?

One of the people in the first session was an alpaca breeder. As he and his wife only lived a few minutes drive from the town centre we took a little trip out there between sessions. They also have a shop and café on the farm. I spent a bit of time chatting with his wife Maree and took a few photos of alpacas (of course I did ;-). She does allsorts of things with the fleece and was more than happy to share her experiences with the regional committee with me. She and her hubby have also suffered at the hands of others in her region.
I had planned to drive to Lithgow, but after a phone call I was stopping in Orange for the night. Bumble Hill Alpacas used to be a local breeder and then they moved out west into fine wool country. Now she has a couple few acres with a couple hundred white or nearly white fine fleeced alpacas. She had very kindly offered to put me up for the night so I made my way up into the mountains above Orange to her place. She very kindly took me out to dinner to a pizza and pasta place. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I can’t eat wheat. So I had pizza for the first time in a long while. It was yummy! Over dinner we chatted about alpacas, nasty people and why they are they way they are, religion and freshly laid chook eggs over supermarket ones. All in all very intelligent conversation just before going to sleep with a very bloated tummy from yummy pizza.

(371 words)

The Rundown of the Putdown (alpacas involved, always long)

Once Saturday had started (at the crack of lunchtime) the day was extremely pleasant and relaxed. Just what I needed after a hard week at work (making up education puzzle and reading gay porn) to recover and refresh myself for this week when I have a new Project Manager starting.

Experience tells me this is never good. Every time I have been involved in a change of PM half way through a project it has always ended with me being out on my arse. Not because I’m bad (at least I never been told that) but because of working styles or requirements. Actually having written that I sound like I am crap! Anyway, that’s a different story by the sounds of it.

Back to my weekend.

Saturday, lunch was followed by a spot of shopping at the Junction of Bondi shopping centre. We, that would be Hubby and I took complete advantage of Westfield and managed, purely by chance, to get back to the car park in 1hour and 57 minutes. Free Parking for us. Thank you very much.

At 6 o’clock we were due to met Edna for dinner and then on to the Moonlight Cinema at Centennial Park, the first of many Birthmonth celebrations. I met her, but hubby remembered at the last minute that he had to do the Treasurers report for the alpaca meeting the following morning. So he joined us at about 6.45. By which time Edna and I had over analysed boys, their motivation and why they smell so good (at times).

The movie was Casino Royale, Hubby and I had already seen it but Edna hadn’t and was keen to make her mind up about a ‘ging-er’ Bond. As it turns out he is now up there with Timothy Dalton as her favourite. (I never said she had any taste in Bonds).

On the way back to the car and killing time before joining the back of the queue getting out of the park Edna spotted movement in a tree. Further inspection resulted in her seeing a flying fox for the first time ‘in the wild’.

After dropping Edna of at home, Hubby and I debated the merits of getting up at 6.30am on a Sunday morning to drive for three hours to a meeting were it was highly likely we were going to be subject to some form of abuse, whether it be subtle and covert or obvious. We decide that we couldn’t leave our El Presidente to fend for herself and resolved ourselves to five hours sleep.

We arrived in the heart of the Hunter Valley and the alpaca farm where the meeting was being held with two minutes to spare. We had stopped for an emergency Maccas (egg and bacon McHash brown, more fat than I normally consume in a week but yummy and fortifying), which had slowed us down by ten minutes. The Committee meeting was fine; we were in the garage while those attending the OGM gather outside in the carport. We made decisions, and all got along nicely. At five to eleven we close that meeting and moved towards the OGM. Hubby went outside, then came straight back in and said, ‘Have you taken your drugs, she’s here.’

After downing my daily dose of Atacand and Zanidip I braced myself and walked out. She was there. The Cantankerous Old Bat (COB) and her Short Husband (SH) had placed themselves in the back row and centre. As anyone who knows anything about public speaking/teaching the snipers always, always sit centre back. That means they cause maximum destruction and everyone has to turn around to look at them when they speak.

The meeting starting and proceeded peacefully until it came to the Treasurers report. Hubby presented his report and announced the region had a massive amount of cash in the bank. Then COB stands up and starts speaking, sorry not speaking, barking she launched into a tirade about how the trade debtor’s amount from November had changed from the November report to this report and that it was all wrong. When Hubby said ‘I can explain’ she started shouting that he was wrong, it was all wrong, he did the books wrong and anything he said would be wrong. Hubby tried to respond, she ignored him, she even ignored other members saying, ‘I would like to hear the Treasurers response’.

It all got messier, when Hubby stood up, pointed in a down motion and shout ‘COB, why don’t you just sit down and shut the f*ck up!’

At this point another member leap up and shouted ‘Mind the language please, there are children present,’ referring to a 13 year old. Another demanded an apology. Hubby agree and apologised to all present except COB. Then he said, ‘If I’m doing such a sh*it job, I will not continue. I resign!’ and walked out.

After a little pause, a few gasps and discussion on the lack of a Treasurer to continue reporting it was decided to move to the next item on the agenda, The Newsletter report.

I was up.

I gave my report, asked for submissions, gave deadline dates and announced that as of the end of the financial year I was resigning due to other commitments. Out of teh corner of my eye I could see her smirking.

Then it was my turn to be barked at. Unfortunately, as Hubby had already left I had to stand there and take it, but I shut her down. When SH muttered ‘bribery and corruption,’ regarding free advertisement to make up for errors and in payment for articles, I said (without looking at him) ‘This is standard process in the publishing industry’.
‘How would YOU know about that?’ was shouted
‘I have been published in several non-alpaca magazines and I’m studying for a Master in Writing.’
‘
As the meeting continued I was shaking. The hostess returned, after leaving at the same time Hubby and she had been crying, but was still white.

General Business was called and COB got stuck into me again about the 2007 Regional Calendar. This time, she seemed to step over an invisible line for many members when she stated that everyone who had sponsored a month was unhappy. (incidently, she neither sponsored or had animals involved) A couple of sponsors were there and one stood up and said, ‘I am extremely happy with the calendar and my ad. It was made clear to me from the start that my details would not appear under a picture of my animals.’ This must be the way to tell someone to shut the f*ck up when you're in the Salvation Army. It worked, so I’m not complaining.

The meeting was closed a little time later after a few other things were discussed and by all accounts COB and SH left without saying goodbye to anyone. I was inundated with people apologising to me for her behaviour. Why do people do that? It’s lovely and makes you feel loved and cared for, but why, ohh why do we do it? I do it too. I found myself saying sorry to the hostess for COB’s appalling attack on my Hubby. Hostess took lunch out to him while he was still sat in the car, while I fielded support at the house, for two hours. One lady, in her fifties with braids, who always attends meetings and never says a word, came up to me and said ‘If she’d spoken to like that, I’d have lumped ‘er one’.

In all we spent fourteen hours, that we will never get back, discussing alpaca politics. Not alpacas and their cute big brown eyes and nice soft fleece, but politics. Trust me when I say it’s not nearly as entertaining as having your foot broken.

(over 1000 words, sorry! ;-)

White Van Woman

On Tuesday I had to take the girls (alpacas, Wispa and Arabella) from their current home on a little spa retreat / shag feast. So I borrowed the white van, loaded them up and drove a little over 300kilometers south to a place called Canyonleigh and their home for the next three months.

But I find myself a part of a unique family. That of the White Van Man. When you drive a white van you all sense of yourself behind the wheel. You have to rely on the wing mirrors and leave plenty of time to maneuver with lots of indication. The only problem is that other road users don’t get that. And I, as a car driver normally am one of those people.

So I now have a respect for the White Van driver. Yes, I still think they drive like pricks, but then so do I when behind the wheel of a vehicle with limited visibility, slow mobility and zero air con.

(165 words)