Thickwitted thylacine Thursday

In the wee small hours some moron with a loud set of speakers decided the whole neighbourhood needed to have their eardrums shattered and the glass in their windows rattling with doof doof doof. It went on for twnety or so minutes and abruptly ceased. I don't know if it were police calling, or  a neighbour with a blunt instrument. It stopped. The silence stretched on for ten minutes or so and it began again slightly quieter then stopped again after five or so minutes. I tossed, I turned. I already had a guilty conscience so I had only had two hours sleep. Dragging myself to the backyard I pulled the washing off the line as the clouds began to leak and then made some breakfast of sorts. I plonked myself at the computer at 5.45 to participate in an online seminar at 6am which was a useful 45 minutes and 15+ minutes of promotional material for a course. Then wake up the offspring, take daughter to the school band which we found out later wasn't on because of an excursion my daughter was not on. Home again to take big youngest boy to occ therapy and back for an 11am seminar on promoting and pitching to publishers and agents then back to the school for a Parent teacher interview and then home back to school and home and homework group then some art and blogs and groups and writing. A full day. I dragged myself through it and have constantly been thinking of a HUGE mistake I made yesterday.


The 52 week challenge is at week 13 with Water as the theme. I decided to try out water droplets.

this is a detail from a larger work further down. A beach hut.

 Eau de cologne. another detail...

 fish out of water

A lot of water things in one picture and of course a child with an oversized umbrella is certainly a watery image.

this little fellow is trapped










I have also written the first three stories for the 38 week flash fiction challenge.

Week 1 Frog

Do I like frogs?

Do I like frogs? I love listening to them after the rain.

Do I like frogs though? They are a bit slimy and hard to find.

Do I want to like frogs? Boys like frogs but they are not too kind.

Do you like frogs? They are pretty and colourful and they keep down the flies.

Should we like frogs? They are important to the world these shiny, noisy, damp little things.

Or so I am told, without them the delicate, intricate network that is the food web will fall

And we won’t have frogs at all. We will have flies clogging the skies and dirty water too.

Their songs once gone will leave a silence so profound we will wonder

Why we didn’t do more to stop such loss and sadness will prevail

We should like frogs, in puddles and bogs, creeks and drains

After the rains and through the years.

Frogs. I think I do like frogs.

I ate one once, with garlic and butter.

It was delicious as I recall

A bit like chicken.

I prefer them in the garden.

 

Week 2 Cabbage

My friend the cabbage.

Did you know the Russian’s are eating twenty kilograms of cabbage each every year, Belgians 4.7, in the Netherlands they are eating 4kg each and the Spaniards are nibbling 4.2kg while the Americans are munching their way through 3.9kg and here in Oz we are eating less than 2kg. Just two and what does that mean for us? It means someone is eating my share. 

Cabbage seeds travelled to Australia in 1788 with the First Fleet. Some enterprising gardener probably under the threat of the lash,  planted them on Norfolk Island. Cabbage became a favourite vegetable of Australians by the 1830s and was frequently seen at the Sydney Markets. It was used by seafarers as a great source of vitamin C and fibre as well as all the other fabulous nutrients they didn’t even know about but they did know it prevented bleeding gums and bone problems.

I think I had cabbage in some fast food coleslaw not long ago, it might have been cabbage, it was crunchy and pale greenish white and it said cabbage in the fine print.

I used cabbage leaves on my red hot sore mammaries a decade or so ago and it was cool and comfortable and eased my pain but I am not sure I ate the rest of it?

I need to change my thinking about cabbage. Really I do. I read last night that the humble cabbage has been found to protect mice from lethal doses of radiation and has been in numerous tests found to be a useful cancer preventative and “may protect normal tissues during radiation therapy for cancer treatment and prevent or mitigate sickness caused by radiation exposure.” Now that has to be a good reason for eating cabbage!

Not only does the good old cabbage have plenty of vitamin K, vitamin C and fibre, it is also an excellent source of manganese, vitamin B6, and folate; and a good source of thiamin, riboflavin, calcium, potassium, vitamin A, tryptophan, protein, and magnesium and the Purple cabbage also contains anthocyanins, whatever they are. Sounds like an anti-dinosaur repellent.
Okay I had best make friends with a cabbage or two or three kilograms of it. My future health and well being may depend on it.   374

“What’s atone?” chewing the pencil end and waiting for the brains trust.

“A whole note or a sound, like the scales, tone, tone, semi tone” The saxophonist yelled down the hallway from her room. “Or do you mean like atonal, ooh ooh we did this in class, it means anarchy for music.” Her voice took on lecture cadences, “atonality describes music that does not conform to the system.”

“A bit like you then dear? No it isn’t music “

“Mum! Sheesh!” the door slammed and I chuckle. “Anyone else in the brains trust, atone?”
“A colour thing like in shade or hue? Hey can hue make me a sammich?” I hear the keys tapping as he continues to stare at his screen and I groan.

“Son you are old enough and ugly enough to make your own sandwich. I don’t think it is about colour either.”

“Mother,” the older deeper voice intones, “You are old enough and ugly enough to use a dictionary.” His keyboard is much quieter than the other and I let silence drag on so he thinks I am offended. “Mother?” I relent at his hint of concern.

“That would be cheating; I don’t want to use a dictionary, besides which it is up in my room.”

“That’s just lazy, wanna sammich?” The big little son lopes past the bench on his way to the loaf.

“No thanks but I would like a cup of tea.”

“Hokay.” He rattles around the kitchen opening doors, drawers and jars then flicks on the kettle.  I listen to the hiss of the water heating and chew the pencil a bit more.

“I know what it means but it’s one of those words that doesn’t get used often enough for me to be absolutely sure. Originally it meant being "at one", in harmony, concord, to bring into unity, with someone but it changed like so many other words so now I am just not confident. Look it up son.”

“Sure, one sec, religious or secular?”

“Secular.”

“Okay, to make amends or reparation, to make up for errors or deficiencies. Mother you have deficiencies you need to atone for. Get your dictionary so you can finish that crossword.”

“You have to make amends for that son. You can cook dinner.”

“Mum, have a sammich and a cuppa.”

“Here’s to atonement.” I toast with my tea.

“Mum joke.” They all groan.                                                   Wc 398

Tomorrow is week four and the theme is Autumn. 

I also entered the mid week blues buster

off to 12 x 12 forum for a few minutes and then on with more writing.