Everyone's a winner ...

... when Cate comes home from the Salvo's on Friday!

A gorgeous crocheted rug for in front of the TV (on the rare occasions I allow it to be turned on!).
Kibby's Ugg boots, his motorbike pants, pyjama shirt and text, How to Write and Speak Better.  We've had a few issues with his language. 
Seffy's top and quality literature (they are current issues!).
And, of course, the beanies.

Something unexpected!

A few weeks back I was heading off to the Salvos where I work on Friday.

     “Don’t come home without beanies,” called Tony as I left.  “We need them for camping.”

     Tony and Kibby were heading to Koombooloomba Dam for the weekend and it was going to be cold, very cold.

     As soon as I walked in, I grabbed the only two beanies in the hat section.  One was chocolate brown, the other British racing green except neither one had the richness of their true colours.  They were severely pilled as if they had acute dandruff and they'd stretched so much I wasn't sure they'd stay on.

     Then something happened, something that could have featured in a not-so-sinister episode of Tales of the Unexpected.

     At morning tea time, Patricia Evans walked in with a box of beanies.

Patricia Evans and some of her beautiful beanies.

     “You can have them," she said, "and sell them.”

     Then she left to fetch more boxes and boxes of beanies she was donating to the Salvos.

     “Would you like a cup of tea,” I asked her when she’d lugged the tenth box up the stairs.

     “Oh, yes.” She dropped into a chair, breathless.  "And could I bother you for a glass of water?"

     How unexpected, I thought, eyeing the beanies I was going to buy for Tony and Kibby and everyone I knew who had a birthday in the year (except friends on TI).  But first, Patricia seemed too interesting to be true, to walk in, unannounced with hundreds of beanies on the very day I needed to buy two.  And there was something exotic about her looks.  I had half a cup of coffee to finish and a bit of time to yarn.

     Till she was ten, she grew up in the Amazonian jungle where her father worked with the UN.

     “You don’t call it jungle, anymore,” she said, “it’s rainforest now, apparently.”

     I asked if she had South American ancestors for her exotic looks.

     “Oh, no.  I’m a hundred percent Australian.”

     When she was ten her father moved the family back to Darwin so the kids could get an education.  Patricia now lives in Mossman and knits beanies in her spare time.

     “It’s a dying art,” I said, “knitting.  Young women just don’t learn those good old skills women handed down.”

     “Oh, I never knew how to knit anything,” she said.  “My daughter-in-law taught me.  And beanies are the only thing I can knit.”

     More of the unexpected! 

The real costs of owning a dog (and duck)

Anyone thinking about buying a pet needs to consider the financial responsibility involved.  It's not hard.  Any idiot can Google the cost of owning a dog or cat (there's nothing about the long-term costs of owning a duck).  I did and was shocked by the result.  However, I've learned there are other costs and financial ones are the least of one’s worries.

     I wasn't worried when I forked out $300 to save Gina's life after she ingested cane toad venom.  The stress of concealing the expense from Tony was much worse.

     I was happy to pay $400 to buy Seffy’s puppy, Pippa Jane.  It was a small price to pay for a life time of happiness, companionship and responsibility for my daughter.  Things changed when this happened ... Pippa ate Rat Sac. 

The vet had never seen a dog vomit so much rat poison.

     Pippa’s life was saved by several hundred dollars, but I was faced with the reality of dealing with a daughter’s grief should anything 'permanent' happen to Pippa.  It made me realise I may one day be faced with the angst of having to decide between expensive and painful surgery (sometimes with a mediocre prognosis) or euthanising an animal.  The cost of the surgery is quantifiable; the pain and suffering for an animal who can’t understand, is not. 

     Pippa can't understand her desire to chew so many things, mostly footwear and backpack straps and plastic containers.  Oh, and the legs and arms of wooden furniture like my antique Burmese Teak lounge suite and the PNG Mahogany wood table (from a large trunk that washed ashore at Port Lihou in 1998).

     Providing Pippa paces her appetite, the cost is bearable.  I can easily conceal the damage of backpack-sized items by tossing the chewed item into someone else’s wheelie bin so Tony doesn’t notice.  It’s the constant deception that I find difficult.  Is it just and reasonable for a wife to lie to her husband to keep the peace?

    This happened next.

Pippa has a taste for good literature. She also nibbled on Alex Miller's Journey to the Stone Country.

     I was furious about the destruction of another good book, but wait, there was more.  I had to pay $30 to the Tableland Regional Council library for the damage and to restore my suspended borrowing rights.  The worst was suffering the humiliation of explaining, at the head of a long queue, the kids and I didn't eat the book and a naughty puppy was responsible.  I now have a black mark against my name.

     I can live with the financial burden of owning a dog, the inconvenience of wearing mismatched thongs, never finding a lid for a plastic container, suffering the stigma of failing to discipline my dog and having to sit on plastic chairs since the lounge suite is in the garage waiting for repairs which I am saving for.  But things have got worse.  The other night Tony asked me if I had seen his “other black thong.”

     “No,” I said quite honestly.  I didn’t mention I’d seen pieces of his black thong which I’d quickly swept up and deposited into a plastic bag at the bottom of the kitchen bin.

     This was quite literally the thong that broke the camel’s back.  Pippa is not allowed to set foot inside even though the thong vanished from the back deck (Duh!  Don't leave your thongs on the floor!). Tony now refers to Pippa as “the bloody dog” and he’s on at Seffy continually to keep the back deck tidy and “the bloody dog” outside, all with the diplomacy of a fascist leader.

     Now Seffy and I have to reprimand Pippa each time she comes inside and draconian discipline is not our style.   If Pippa comes inside when Tony’s not around, I have to reprimand Seffy and remind her “Dad really wants Pippa outside.”

     Worse, I have to broker peace between father and daughter when I have no conflict resolution training.  I’ve listened to Seffy refer to her father as “a bloody idiot” because he treats Pippa like a dog.

     This happened at the same time Tony said I had to stop buying frozen peas for my ducks.  Now I am harbouring murderous intentions.

     How come that Google search I did on the cost of owning a pet never mentioned the real costs?

Read it!

As requested, Green Bazzaar!

BTW:  Author Purpose is one of 12 comprehension strategies we use to help kids understand what they are reading.  The DEEP acronym reminds the kids of the four reasons authors write.  
After reading it, there were a list of questions (based on the lyrics) that targeted spelling, grammar and other comprehension strategies.  No textbook or downloaded sheet work for my students!
I had so much fun writing (and singing) this one.

Read it - A song about Author Purpose – Think D.E.E.P. 

(to the tune of Michael Jackson's Beat it)

You’re always textin’ on your mobile phone
You’re like a dog who’s found himself a tasty bone
Well, here’s a book to read.  I don’t wanna hear you moan.
So read it.  Just read it.

You reckon there’s nothing that you like to read
Think DEEP, there’ll be something, it’s surely guaranteed
Don’t bother trying to argue cos there’s no way I’ll concede
Just read it.  Don’t care you haven’t peed.

Just read it, read it, read it, read it
Open the book and be seated.
Read about fossils, read about snow
I don’t care if you read fast or read slow
Just read.  Just read it.  Just Read it.  Just read it.  Just read it

Describing texts tell about a person, place or thing
Biographies, earth worms, The History of Beijing
Reading makes you dream like Martin Luther King
So read it.  Just read it.

Entertaining texts are enjoyable to read
They make you laugh, they make you cry
You get through them at speed
Turn the page, right now.  I’ll get on my knees and plead.
So read it.  Don’t care you need a feed.

Just read it, read it, read it, read it
Don’t you make me repeat it.
Read about Narnia, read for an hour
Don’t care if you read in the loo or the shower.

Just read it.  Read it. Read it.  Read it.
Don’t care you’re vitamin depleted
Read about bananas, they grow in a bunch
Read about growing them, eat them for lunch.
Just read it.  Read it.  Read it.  Read it.  Read it.

Explaining texts tell how to do like fixing antique doors
Cooking perfect soufflés, treating puss-filled sores
Maybe you can learn how polish wooden floors
So read it.  Just read it.

Persuading texts convince you how to think or act

Sponsor a child, use less fuel, carefully read a contract
Recycle so the earth isn’t harmed by your impact
So read it.  I don’t care if I’ve cracked.

Just read it, read it, read it, read it
Don’t you stop ‘til it’s completed
Read about zits, read about bread
You can read on your feet or stand on your head
Just read.  Read it.  Read it. Read it.
Don’t wanna hear you’re mistreated.
Read about sewerage.  Don’t be a sook.
I’ll make sure you read, by hook or by crook.
So read it.  Read it. Read it.  Read it.  Read it. Read it.  Read it.  (Guitar instrumental)

Obstetric fistula: The good news!

This is my amazing friend Annalisa.  She has registered to fund raise $10,000 Australian dollars for Hamlin Fistula Ethiopia (Australia) … by November this year.  

      In my three years of blogging I have never posted about raising money for a good cause (I don't recall).  But this is something I feel strongly about so please hear me out.  Or should that be read me out. 

     This post is about raising funds to help women in Ethiopia who suffer obstetric fistula.

     If you don't know, an obstetric fistula is most commonly a hole in bladder or bowel or both leading to permanent incontinence that results from obstructed childbirth.  The United Nations has launched a campaign to end fistula and describes it as "a preventable and treatable tragedy." 

     Naturally, women in Australia either don't acquire OF because the problem is prevented (I am guessing by C-section) or, once acquired it can be treated through the excellent, free medical care we receive in Australia.  

     In fact, Australian writer, Susan Johnson's, A Better Woman is her confronting and haunting story about childbirth and developing a fistula in the 1990s. 

     I always thought tearing during childbirth and being sewn up was bad, until I read about obstetric fistulas!  

     Hamlin Fistula Australia is an Australian charity established at the request of Dr Catherine Hamlin to raise funds for assisting women suffering from obstetric fistula.

     A bit of background.

     Dr Hamlin and her husband Reg went to Ethiopia in 1959 to train midwives.  They ended up dedicating their lives to helping women suffering from obstetric fistula.  Dr Hamlin is now 91, she only ceased conducting surgery last year!  Read about Dr Hamlin and her life's work in The Hospital by the River.  

     Annalisa already gives monthly to Hamlin Fistula Ethiopia, but she has upped the ante for a worthy cause.  She is going to visit the organisation she supports. 

      In November she will be travelling to Ethiopia with other fundraisers for a 16 day visit to Hamlin Fistula hospitals and clinics and training schools in Addis Ababa and regional Ethiopia, along with visits to natural and cultural sites.  This trip is wholly funded by her.

      And, being super fit, she will also participate in the Great Ethiopian Run, 10km at altitude in Addis Ababa (2,400 m or so) against some 35 - 40,000 altitude-conditioned Ethiopians!  

      You can support Annalisa's goal of raising $10,000 for Hamlin Fistula Ethiopia (Australia).

      The link below provides more information including what motivated her to take on this challenge.  If you are moved by this cause, please donate as Tony and I have.  

https://greatethiopianadventure.everydayhero.com/au/annalisa-koeman

     Please share this post or link with friends and family.

     Donations $2 and over are tax deductible in Australia.  Hamlin Fistula Ethiopia (Australia) Limited is a DFAT-approved organisation with Deductible Gift Recipient Item 1 status (DGR1).

     Please note that Annalisa's trip is separately funded through her personal income!

My Brilliant Career

Remember this?

What hurt most about Pippa Jane consuming My Brilliant Career was the fact I had no job and really didn't know what I wanted to do when I grew up.  I'd almost finished a novel written in more of a literary fashion, but I'd lost interest in writing.  Pippa Jane could have eaten Alex Miller's Journey to the Stone Country, Karen Foxlee's, The Anatomy of Wings or Romeo and Juliet.  

     Hell, the best choice of meal was TK's purchase; Dan Brown's, The Da Vinci Code.  But no, Pippa had to eat the book that hurt me most, reminding me I was jobless, directionless and hopeless.

     Then my dear friend, Nicola sent me this.

     And the most unhappenable has happened.  I have a job working with awesome high school students, amazing colleagues and doing work I couldn't have dreamed about in a short ice-age; inspiring disenchanted readers to want to read.  
     I am no longer a teacher, but an inspirer of reading (I might also be a creator of words because I have never heard of 'inspirer' before and can't think of a synonym).
     What is more unbelievable is my discovery that writing for 12 to 15 years old students is so much more rewarding than writing for publication which now seems such a fickle ambition.  
     I am writing age-appropriate stories and anecdotes for my wonderful students and I think I've got the better deal.  I spend hours of my spare time writing and planning lessons to engage and entertain them and I love it.  And I'm learning as well.  
      I knew nothing about football until a student asked me to write something about the subject.  Have you heard of Greg Inglis?  He is not your typical footballer and is exceptionally generous with a strong sense of social justice!
     Next the crew are about to have a lesson on Author Purpose (a comprehension strategy) using a song I wrote called Read it, based on Michael Jackson's, Beat it.  
     While I was fine-tuning my creation, singing like a psychotic curlew, to get the word-to-beat ratio perfect, Seffy kept calling out to me.
     "Mum, you're supposed to be studying, not singing!"  
     Yes, I had a study deadline and I am usually very disciplined with deadlines ... except when I am writing something for my students.
     About a month ago, one previously very reluctant reader said, "Miss, you write good stories" and I almost shed a tear.
     I love my career.  Pippa Jane is not getting her teeth anywhere near my new My Brilliant Career!

In Flanders Fields by John McCrae

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place: and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved:
and now we lie in Flanders fields!

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

I really don't like reading poetry, but when I have to such as helping Sutchy with his English task or preparing a lesson for my students relating to ANZAC Day, I find poetry is the most beautiful literary medium.  Somehow, I find poetic enjoyment is related to the time it takes to unpack the poem and find out about the poet's circumstances and writing motivation.

     Here's a bit about John McCrae; 

     John McCrae (1872-1918) was born in Ontario, Canada.  He was a surgeon during in World War 1.  He was also a soldier poet, author and artist.  He served in the Boer War from 1899-1901 and was disgusted by the treatment of sick and injured soldiers.

     In Flanders Fields is the best known and most revered war memorial poem.  McCrae wrote In Flanders Fields quickly on May 3, 1915 in the back of an ambulance after the funeral of his former student and friend, Lieutenant Alex Helmer who was killed in the Second Battle of Ypres. 

     The theme of the poem is we, as citizens, have responsibility to protect our country and our freedom and we should be ready to fight for what we love.  Another them is to remember those people who died fighting or they will never rest.

     The central feature of the poem is poppies that thrived in the in the spoiled earth of the battlefields and cemeteries of Flanders.
     McCrae had always suffered from asthma and by late 1917 his health had deteriorated.  In January, 1918 he developed pneumonia and meningitis and died.  It is likely he would have survived had antibiotics been discovered, but that was two decades away.