Oh...forgot about THIS one....

Another quick spider story before I start opening up/coming clean about another of my experiences/nightmares.   There are actually several of these and I have been asked to 'share' them all for the sake of other sufferers.  Will begin this next blog.

We did seem to keep choosing houses with more spiders living in or around them than was comfortable for me (but then I only need to see one for that to happen).  Our house in a suburb of Perth (Western Australia) was OK - cannot ever remember seeing any BIG spiders, only Daddy-Long-Legs and Redbacks - both of which are extremely venomous actually but the hideous Huntsman beats them all hands down in my book.  I do recall an incident with a Redback at the above mentioned house in Perth.  I remember seeing this perfect example seemingly sitting comfortably, minding its own business, on a bicycle on our back verandah.  I resorted to my old 'dealing' method again (didn't feel that I had a lot of choice) and told it to stay right where it was and I'd go and get something to kill it.  It was obviously a very good spider - or a very stupid one.  OK so it didn't understand English and I wasn't exactly fluent in spider-speak.  Anyway, needless to say it hadn't moved a leg when I returned with a full can of spray.  So I set to and gave it a quick burst, getting ready to spray again and keep at it until it died - but didn't move at all.  It should have moved - stupid thing.  After all I was firing point blank at it.  Obviously sillier than I thought - so I sprayed again.  And again - no movement whatsoever.  What the heck was this thing?  Its normal big black back with the superb red stripe - was all white and foamy now.  Huh?  So I sprayed again - and again - and again - and kept at it until, believe it or not, I emptied the can.  But not once had it moved - not a muscle.  No prizes for guessing that it had been dead all along.  Hmmmmm.....

Ah....now we did have some horrible spider experiences in all four of the houses we lived in when interstate.  I'll just have to see what I feel like talking about for my next blog - actually, thinking about it, the whole lot would be chalked up to being nightmares.

Ah well....time will tell.  Beware, be very ware and stay tuned.....

AN  AUSTRALIAN  MARITIME  TRAGEDY

157 passengers and crew lost as a result of a severe cyclone (Lua).  Date:  March 1912.  Sounds familiar?  Thoughts of the 'Titanic' are dredged up.

WRONG.  This is not the 'Titanic'.  This is the 'SS Koombana'.  An Australian maritime tragedy that, coincidentally, occurred shortly before that of the 'Titanic', in 1912.  But because of the latter, the former seemingly disappeared into oblivion.

History?  Absolutely.  And a very important part of our history in Australia yet, ask 99.9999999% of the population here if they have ever heard of it and you're more than likely to get a vague look in response.  But mention the 'Titanic' - hmmmm - completely different story.  W.  ONhat an essential part of history it is - how absolutely and disgustingly tragic that it was all but ignored and overlooked because of a similar tragedy that occurred on the other side of the world, just weeks later.  

The 'Koombana' was an Australian ship.  Built in Glasgow it became the pride of the now defunct Adelaide Steamship Company but was lost at sea, thanks to Cyclone Lua, in March 2012.  Sadly and in my opinion, very poorly, little is known and there appears to be an equal lack of interest about it.  

The 'Koombana' was one of our ships - an AUSTRALIAN ship.  Many of the passengers were Australian.

A centenary was held to mark the 100th anniversary of this fateful story at Port Hedland, where the 'Koombana 'was lost.  There has also been a more recent exhibition mounted by the Fremantle Maritime Museum - but it seems none of this is helping to 'educate' the general public about our tragedy, whereas most of them know all about the 'Titanic'.

It appears that the wreck of this ship has never been found - but then not a lot is known in general about this particular ship nor the fateful voyage and it's tragic end.  Whereas there is sooo much information, including at least one movie, about the 'Titanic', which is wonderful for the latter - but why was the 'Koombana; so seemingly overlooked, even by Australians?

Bringing the details of this maritime tragedy to light and giving it the attention and exposure it so badly deserves is absolutely essential - for our history and for the education of Australians.  For those people who lost loved ones.  For everyone.

One couple who lost family members has decided to do just this - they approached me (and none of us will ever know why they did) about it and I am now doing my level best to organise much more exposure, via the media if at all possible (it is an Australian maritime tragedy so why the hell not???) and I am in the process of writing a book about it.  A few things are in the pipeline.

Should there be any media interest at this stage or if anyone has any other information relating to this tragedy, please contact me.  Believe me, it is all very welcome.  

A huge launch will be organised for the release of the book itself.

Watch this blog and my websites for further information as it comes to hand.

MY BIRTHDAY AT BROOME - SUPERB

Life continues to be FANTABULOUS - and no, that wasn't a word, but is now.  We have just been up to Broome, in the north west of Western Australia and had the most superb few days there - for my birthday.  We did a lot of walking, had some wonderful meals, met some fascinating and fantastic locals (or some not so local originally but all seem to live and work in and around Broome and love it) and even found some extraordinary dinosaur footprints.  I love history - it fascinates me but was never remotely interested until I visited the UK 'quite a few' years ago - that's when I really saw history - true history.  All man made and it was and still is fascinating.  But up until visiting Broome I have to admit I had not really appreciated Australia's history - we have been civilised far too recently for my interest.  True - Australia is on one of the oldest continents in the world - but I still didn't really appreciate it - until Broome.  Dinosaur footprints.  That's what did it for me.  Looking at those dinosaur footprints.  And just trying to think - it was rather overwhelming to me.  Yes OK, thinking at all is rather overwhelming for me - but this - these dinosaur footprints.  And the rocks into which they have been embedded - OK that would have been sand back then but the entire thing.  Just amazing.  Absolutely amazing.  For my birthday itself - we visited the most fantastic Indigenous publisher.  Wonderful array of books, all authors Indigenous.  Eldest daughter even gave me a superb Indigenous diary for next year - already in use and so very proud of it.  Picked up several more books too.  Onto watch crocodiles in action when eating - Okkkkkk.  Er...WOW.  Also fascinating but not something I am in a hurry to do when there isn't a solid protective fence separating us.  Hmmmm.  But wouldn't have missed that for the world.  Then onto a camel ride - on Cable Beach.  How absolutely fantastic.  Fantabulous even.  The day complete with a lovely meal with my family in a superb restaurant at Cable Beach, watching the famous sunset there.  What more could a girl want.  How lucky am I?  I've challenged the girls to try to top that for next year.  Pretty hard.  Two days later it was down to Perth and earth with a resounding thump when we returned home.  What a wonderful birthday.  Was also thoroughly spoiled with heaps of FB messages, texts and a few phone calls.  Wonderful.
Bestest (whoa - another new word - hey, I'm on a roll here...)
Byeeeeeee - until next time.

STUFF NIGHTMARES ARE MADE OF

Not spiders this time.  Nope.  Sorry.  This is the stuff nightmares are made of - although spiders do that to me too.  So does deep water - and heights for that matter.  Flying has much the same effect and small spaces.  But this - this was different.  I had a horrible - the most horrible nightmare the other night.  And it wasn't even after watching a horror movie - which I admit that I do enjoy.  They are usually too unrealistic to believe and I generally laugh throughout.  Even those suspense ones that are supposedly modelled on real stories - real events that took place.  Even that I can handle - simply by brainwashing myself to believing that - nahhh - it's all fake.  It might not be fake but telling myself that is the only way I can relax about it.  

But the other night - oh no.  The difference - this one sprang from reality.   MY reality.    Damn it.  And it could happen again.  But that's not stopping me.

As is well known I am fighting bullying.  And again as is equally well known I am a past victim of this.  My book 'Bullseye' is to do with my fight.  And just last year I did an article for one of Australia's national magazines about this - a tiny bit of my own experience was mentioned, but apart from that, I have never really said anything about my own nightmare. 

Recently, I had the wonderful honour of befriending another author in Australia - I am actually establishing contact with quite a lot of authors world wide, some very well known, others new to the business.  All are absolutely fantastic people.  One in particular, when I mentioned her successful debut novel and that I stick to non-fiction as my imagination and creativity usually fail badly if I try to write using those.  This wonderful lady then stunned me and mentioned that her book is based on her life experience.  She then suggested that I do the same thing with my bullying experience.

So I am.  I have begun a novel based on my own experience.  And have realised this is the first time I have really opened up about it.  About the whole thing.  Everything will be revealed in this book which I am hard at work on - a huge labour of love, believe me.  I am currently writing the introduction - taking a walk through my few visits back to the school - and the memories are zooming back.  Some of them really surprising and scaring me - a few incidents which I had completely and absolutely forgotten.  And they didn't necessarily involve my bullies........

JUST TOO DARNED BIG AND HAIRY FOR ME....

I can still remember Mum coming in for breakfast and sporting a monster on her shoulder.  My seat was next to hers and I was the idiot who noticed it - Mum immediately swept it off her shoulder and realising I was in direct firing aim I reversed in one hell of a hurry, knocking down anything and everything in my path.  I was safe though - so was the spider.  It was taken outside and given its freedom.  In summer I was always too scared to move a picture, a curtain, almost anything for fear of disturbing spiders which were probably only hiding cos they were just as scared of me as I was of them.  

I think the first time I noticed another spider away from the station, was, believe it or not, when one was sitting fair in the middle of my bed at boarding school.  It was in a building that I had always felt was new enough not to have spiders anywhere near it - still not sure about my logic with this theory.  But just to deviate momentarily - I realised some years ago that this is one very strong consideration I have always taken into account when looking at possible new homes.  Which, to many, would possibly be very correctly labelled as paranoia - but so what!  Anyway, back to this scenario.  In those days there was a large lack of vegetation around that building and, to my way of thinking, only buildings that are surrounded by lots of vegetation or similar are those that attract spiders - these big, horrible, hairy ones.  So sorta got the fright of my life (OK - another fright of my life) when I walked into that dormitory and saw that - thing - standing in the middle of my bed.  I don't remember anything more than going into a complete 'spaz attack', the sort of which would normally have me committed.  To this day, knowing how well I was liked among my peers (ie I wasn't) I do suspect that the spider was actually planted.  I'll never know.

Stay tuned.

AND ANOTHER ONE.......

Believe me these Huntsman spiders could grow to be the most gigantic sizes.  Another I recall was on the ground just outside our then station office.  It was my favourite day of the week - Saturday - mail day - YES.  The long awaited mail bag had arrived and I was about to enter the office when I saw yet another - thing - right in front of me, on the ground.  It was one very pregnant spider - well, it was either pregnant or dangerously obese.  Poor thing (make the most of the sympathy, spider) could barely move and was trying to make its way to the nearest pole or wall for safety.  This sympathy got the better of me because I was actually prepared to allow it to find its haven of safety - OK so I was too scared to move - but did keep an eagle eye on it and didn't move until it stopped.  But the whole problem was suddenly 'solved' when one of my brothers came up behind me and asked what was wrong.  He hadn't seen the spider (he must have been blind - how in the hell could he miss it) and as he didn't actually stop walking, stepped right on the mother to be.  Now I have never witnessed anything like this before - what seemed like thousands and thousands of teensy weensy spiders just spread out like a great black blanket.  And up everything in sight - including my legs.  Not exactly a pleasant experience but at least they didn't scare me anything like their mother would have had she tried that and I got rid of many of them, accidentally on purpose, just by stomping around.  In hindsight I realise this was actually incredibly cruel of me but at the time all I could think about was the fact that they were only little babies and would eventually grow up into monsters, like their mother.  And their father - now where in the heck was he?  No thanks.  While I did kill many of them there was not a chance in hell that I killed the lot.

But wait - there's still more - stay tuned -

'THE THING'.........

I can vividly remember 'making' a deal with one spider (hereon known as 'the thing').  The scene?  My first bedroom on the station.  I was going to bed and was about to turn off my lamp when something caught my eye - on the wall opposite me, above my dressing table.  I looked up and - holy heck, it was huge - ABSOLUTELY MAMMOTH.   It was moving around a bit - not that it needed to to catch my eye - it's size was enough to cause nightmares - actually just being a spider - any spider would have been enough to make me vacate the room completely, no contest.  They would win on sight.  But this night I must have been incredibly brave, or stupid, or tired - or - something, possibly a mix of the whole lot.  Instead of very quietly edging out of bed and the room (trying not to disturb it with my movement - I mean, hell these things could leap tall buildings in a single leap - I'm sure of it) for some reason which will always remain a mystery to me I found myself 'bargaining' with the thing.  I told it that I would not get someone to remove it as long as it stayed away from me - yea right.  In fact I think my reason was simply the fear that it could leap tall buildings - or at least across my room and land on me - if I dared to try to move.  There was just too much space between that door and me and I really could not take that chance.  That there were three times that much space between the thing and me was irrelevant.  And with that deal firmly (no hand shaking - no thanks) in place I very stupidly turned off my bed light and went to sleep.  Not quite sure how I slept with the knowledge that I was still in the same room as the thing.  All I can think is that in this deal making bit I must have successfully brainwashed myself enough to be able to relax - or I am incredibly stupid.  Well, something worked because next thing I knew it was next morning, sun was up and - wow - lo and behold - there was no sign of the thing.  YES.  So, feeling very happy and proud of myself (not really occurring to me to try to find the thing) I bounced up, dressed and started making my bed - which was against a wall so I had to move it out in order to make it.  Now I think anyone and everyone else in the world would pretty well have guessed what happened next - but not me - oh no.  I was patting myself too much on the back for my bargaining powers.  I had almost finished making the bed - and it still hadn't occurred to me to try to find the thing - when I suddenly looked down - and - no prizes for guessing - there it was.  With the bed pulled away from it it was stretching out a couple of its hideous legs trying to find something to grab on to.  I must have been brushing it every time I went around to make the bed - how I hadn't seen it is absolutely beyond me - I mean it was just tooooo big and waay too ugly to miss - surely?  Another blood curdling scream.  Sheer terror had me rooted to the spot this time - I could not move - not a muscle.  When my legs finally did decide to move of their own accord there was no stopping them - they took off - straight into the closed door.  I cannot remember any pain whatsoever - all I could think was that the thing was somewhere behind me, either leaping tall building or at least through the air - or just hiding.  Damn thing had not kept its part of the deal and for that it would pay - provided I could find it again.  We did - eventually.  And many will be pleased to know that whoever my saviour was picked it up with dust pan and broom and took it out into the garden - and put it down, just in time for a nearby bird to swoop and grab it.

But wait - there's more - stay tuned - 

MORE TALES OF CREEPY CRAWLIES

Another incident occurred during my childhood, still up on our station.  This one occurred in 'nextdoors' loo'.  Our own two loos must have been in use.  My uncle used to have a pile of magazines (questionable nature - downright dirty actually) kept next to the loo.  I remember sitting, minding my own business, 'reading' one of these magazines, when over the top appeared one hideously horrible, long, hairy, brown leg, followed by another, then another.  Again I screamed blue murder and just - ran.  I did have to open the door to get out but for the life of me I cannot recall doing that, so I have often wondered whether I didn't just run straight through it - like they do in cartoons.  I don't really think so though but I know I would have run like the devil again - down the path and was half way when I suddenly realised that - again - I was not quite correctly dressed.  My top half was fine but everything from the waist down was in a heap around my ankles.  While I didn't exactly worry about that at the time, since then I have to wonder how the jolly heck did I run like that, with both my pants twisted around my ankles.  No audience this time though and I do not believe I screamed - as much.  I did scream but not as much.  

Stay tuned.

SPIDERS - hmmmmm....

More new and exciting things happening every day - life continues to be so great.  But I am gonna tell all about my confrontations with spiders - my arachnophobia.  Such horrible things, in my opinion.  While I do abhor unnecessary cruelty to animals, spiders are one -thing - that I am not friends with.  Huntsman spiders in particular - I will vacate a room for these huge, horrible, hairy things.  I have always been reassured they are actually completely harmless - but I have to question that - how can something possibly be harmless when they give me a heart attack every time I see one?  And we used to get them in abundance up on the station.  But several of my encounters with these things occurred in places other than the station, but I'll start up there.  This is possibly a good time to get a cuppa (or something stronger), put your legs up and settle in - or walk away.

I remember this little scenario as though it was yesterday.  I was riding happily ('happily'?  The temperature would have been well over 40C) on my bicycle, darting between the bushes on the side of the road on the hill behind our station homestead.  Suddenly I became vaguely aware of something on my right arm.  I remember slapping at it a couple of times and stopping it momentarily.  Then it would take off again.  Brrr - I still get the shivers when I think about it.  Another slap and another momentary stop.  Eventually I felt this - thing - heading toward my hand - and suddenly two very very very - try endlessly - long and very very very hairy legs appeared out of my cuffs (I must have been wearing long sleeves - in that heat?).  Well!  Did that set me off, or what!  I actually cannot remember anything much after that except screaming blue murder and running like the devil back down the hill to the house.  I must have been stripping all the way (first streaker on the station?) because by the time I had nearly reached our back door - and my mother who must have been running up the hill toward me, trying to find the snake (that, in her mind, being the only thing that could cause such crazed reaction) - I was stark naked.  The spider being long gone, along with my clothes.  Now, a 'few' years later, I also have to wonder - how in the heck is it possible to strip like that when running like that?  How the jolly heck did I undo and take my shoes and sox off and my long pants?  While running, for goodness sake?  I know I sure as hell didn't stop.  Why was I wearing it all in that heat in the first place?  Once Mum had established there wasn't a snake at all but a poor, 'defenceless' (yea right) little spider that had caused this (she must have been able to translate that much from my babbling), I was thoroughly berated and left to try to dress myself - which meant retracing my steps and collecting all my clothes - again in that unbearable heat and all the while, fully expecting that 'poor defenceless' little horror to pounce on me and gloat.  But until that moment I hadn't actually realised I wasn't wearing a stitch - but when that realisation did hit me - hmmmm - I turned a very nice shade of red.  On retracing my steps I also discovered I had an audience, albeit from afar - all the other kids were watching from the tank where they had been swimming.  Therein arises another question - why were they enjoying that water - and I wasn't???  Well, this happened just a 'few' years ago - when I was a child - so I guess all this will remain a mystery forever.

More exploits next blog.

EDGE OF THE OUTBACK

Here we are, as promised.

EDGE OF THE OUTBACK
I offer no apology for the fact that both past and present tenses are used in this piece; also that the imperial system is used (even though the metric is used in Australia).  I was raised on this and continue to use it in this piece.    

Mention the TRUE Australian outback to most people, be they from another nation or Australia and visions of a vast, barren desert, miles upon miles of virtually nothing except a bush here and maybe a tree there and plenty of red bulldust, usually come to mind.  Overall not an attractive picture, so most would think.

How wrong can one be.

I was born in Adelaide, capital of South Australia and raised on a sheep station in the north eastern pastoral district of that state.  The station was 115,000 acres, which was small compared with other stations further up and out.  Our livelihood depended on Marino sheep for their wool and a few head of cattle.  The land, which is very barren, it's true, is comprised of such vegetation as salt and blue bush, mulga and gum trees among others.  We averaged less than seven inches of rain per annum so could not rely on cropping.  Ours was among the first of the 'big' sheep stations heading north of Adelaide.

Peterborough was and still is the nearest town, being thirty miles away.  Along with my three older brothers and our cousins I was educated, until the ripe old age of eleven, by School of the Air and correspondence school.

There were times when we actually did have heavy enough rains to isolate us completely but with today's technology this no longer happens.  In those days (and I am only going back thirty or so years) we had our own generator providing us with thirty two volt power, a telephone connected to a 'party-line', mail once a week and groceries monthly.  The wonderful Royal Flying Doctor Service provided our medical services in emergencies.

My brother and his family were living on and managing the station until the last few years.  With improved roads and transport my niece and nephew were able to attend the local primary school in Peterborough.  Both then followed the lead of the generation before them and attended boarding school in Adelaide.  While the station is still in our family, it is now managed by an employed couple.

As can be gathered by the information above, rain water was and still is very scarce.  While all (or most) stations have several large concrete tanks, dam water was used for personal bathing, washing and dish washing.  The water looked dreadful, like wishy washy mud, but to many it was a real novelty to wash and swim in.  We also used to swim in the tanks; in fact this was more common than swimming in the dams which usually did not have enough water in them in which to swim.  However there was the very rare occasion when water was plentiful, thereby allowing us to swim in the dams and even in the creek, which was a lot of fun.  When swimming in the dams you just had to be careful not to be nipped on the toe by a yabby (similar to a crayfish or lobster and just as tasty).  A good deal of outback Australia's water is supplied by huge artesian basins.
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While kangaroos are a dearly loved part of the Australian fauna, they, along with rabbits and foxes, are also a terrible menace in the outback.  Our station is surrounded by a supposedly dog proof fence.  However it seems no-one told the kangaroos about this as they cause more damage to the fence than anything else does.  In fact, dingoes are plentiful further north and rarely venture as far south as our station, but we do get the odd stray.  They rip the stock to pieces - not to eat - just for the fun of it!  Rabbits, kangaroos and other pests eat the spear grass and general vegetation, what there is of it, which is food for our stock.

As children, we often rescued orphaned 'joeys' (baby kangaroos), emus, the odd kids (baby goats as most would know), lambs and calves.  We also kept a carpet python snake as a 'pet' at one stage.  Let's just say it decided to take up temporary residence on our tennis court and we decided not to try to make it move on.  All these babes were released back into the wild once old and strong enough to survive by themselves.

Entertainment was a little different out there.  Travelling over one hundred miles for any kind of social occasion was very much the norm.  'Local' towns held annual horse racing carnivals where the focus was certainly more on local gossip, drinking, 'high' fashion, drinking, eating, oh and did I mention drinking - rather than the races themselves.  Races?  What races?  We actually had race horses at one stage but that was well before my time.

Up to the age of eleven my only real play-mate was my cousin.  Her rather co-managed the station with my father, his brother, for many years.  My cousin and I were eventually sent to different schools in Adelaide and have never really been close since.  She married and remained in South Australia, not far from the station, whereas I married and now live in Perth, Western Australia.

We all learned to ride horses and motor bikes and to drive cars (on the station only) almost before we could crawl.  That just seemed to be part of life out there.

At times were were almost completely self-sufficient; raising our own chickens, cattle for their milk and its bi-products, lamb and mutton, vegetables and fruit.  However much of this had to stop due to drought.  We even produced bread from our own ovens.  In those days we were fortunate enough to have an excellent cook, along with governesses and a 'cowboy'.  Those days are long gone now and we no longer produce any of the above, apart from the meat.  While parts of the sprawling homestead have been modernised for practicality the bread ovens have been preserved, along with our old milk separating cellar, although none is used.

Like most stations we have a couple of 'outstations'.  In better years one of these held a family of about fifteen children; the other has been empty as long as I can remember.  Now both stand abandoned and empty.

The homestead itself is typical of many country homesteads, with huge rooms, very thick stone walls, completely surrounded by wide verandahs, huge open fireplaces and very high ceilings.  This building,a long with the engine room, slaughter house, shearers' quarters, shearing shed, stables and assorted other buildings, resembles a small village.

And then there are the 'creepy-crawlies'.  The worst and most venomous snake is the Common Brown but we also have had visits from the King Brown, which lives further north.  Another common species is the afore-mentioned Carpet Python, which is harmless.  As for spiders, the harmless Huntsman is easily the most common and they can grow to be enormous.  I am afraid that I am very much an arachnophobic (see note below) and have suffered from this fear since childhood.  I used to try to overcome this for the sakes of my daughters - but that didn't work - they are now worse than I am!  We also have the Redback spider, which is a cousin to the Funnelweb, although not as venomous.

Among my childhood and teen memories is one relating to an 'uncle' who lived on a nearby station and who owned and flew a Tiger Moth aeroplane.  This uncle used to fly lower over our station dropping bags of sweets attached to tiny parachutes, for us children.  This occurred annually, after he had visited the Royal Adelaide Show.  We used to love racing each other into the huge creek bed at the front of the homestead searching for those little parcels; a bit like an Easter egg hunt.  We also had an airstrip, as did and do most stations, only ours has been overgrown by salt and blue bush.  It would in all probability cause an emergency instead these days.

The aforementioned creek could be very dangerous but also very exciting in heavy rains.  It didn't even have to be raining on the station; as long as there had been heavy enough rains upstream, the chances were very high of our creek coming down a 'banker' (meaning a usually bone dry creek suddenly filled to overflowing with water).  I have only witnessed it once but would not have missed it.  Imagine standing in a completely dry creek bed and suddenly hearing an almighty roar - looking in that direction and seeing a huge bank of water, usually feet deep, coming straight for you, taking all in its path.  These 'bankers' have been known to drag fences, trees, windmills, junk, animals and anything else that gets in the way as far as the creek travels.  We have found items on stations over two hundred miles away.  

There really is just so much more to the magnificent Australian outback than has been mentioned here.  To the eye of the uninitiated it probably still is and always will be a vast, barren, boring, unending desert with very little, if anything, to offer - especially when compared with mountains (we have those in the outback, too), lush green pastures, rivers, waterfalls, flowers and other flora and fauna.  Yes I concede that the outback could well be considered 'ugly'.

But it is not.

It is really beautiful if one bothers to take the time to really look and appreciate the beauty.  You do not need a vivid imagination to really see that beauty - there are mountains, beautiful scrubs of trees and wildflowers in abundance.  Just the colours of the hills and valleys at dawn and sunset and after rain, are spectacular in themselves.  I have seen many magnificent paintings of different settings in the outback - they cannot be imagined, they are real, just as are those of snow-capped mountains, waterfalls, rivers and forests.

The fauna is as impressive as that of the lusher areas too.  As previously mentioned kangaroos abound out there, but not koalas.  These gorgeous creatures are fussy eaters in that, while Australia has numerous types of eucalyptus trees, the koala will only eat the leaf of one species and this is only found in certain areas of Australia. Other fauna includes hundreds of different sorts of lizards, snakes (both of which are reptiles), along with many other creatures, some of which are harmless, some not.  Emus, eagles, eaglehawks, galahs, sulpher-crested cockatoos, rosellas, cockatiels (which have a different name in each Australian state), wild canaries, budgerigars to name just a few.  There are also hundreds of species of smaller ground-living birdlife.

Like every nation, Australia has many features of interest for the tourist but I just feel that the outback, which really does have just so much to offer, is too often overlooked.  After all, it does make up most of the nation but still so often goes by unnoticed.  So - this is my little effort to help acknowledge and salute it - as deserved.




I have also just decided to start adding parts of my auto-biography in here.  This will give an even better look at life in the outback and also includes some rather amusing stories about my 'brushes' with spiders.

Stay tuned.

I keep thinking life just couldn't get any better but then something always happens that proves that  thinking to be wrong - again.  I am soooo loving everything that I am doing now.  Research for my book on stations is absolutely snowballing - I am meeting the most wonderful people - even some 'new' relations and family friends that I didn't previously know existed.  Amazing.  Even had a wonderful drive into the 'country' last week - to a small town out there, meeting another couple of retired pastoralists.  Such lovely people and the drive was beautiful.  A five hour round trip which many would baulk at but not me, nor most country people.  If you are not prepared to travel, you would probably never leave home at all if you live out there.  We used to travel up to two hundred kilometres for dinners and parties in my childhood - so what?  This is outlined in my piece, 'Edge of the Outback' which I am going to repost here tomorrow.  Just to give you a taste of what that life is like......

Stay tuned.....

Life continues to be FANtastic.  Something exciting seems to happen daily at the moment - whether big or small - it happens and it's all soo good.  But I am only human (or so I keep trying to convince myself) and do have my 'downers' - the nastier of these in the past might have kept me down - but they don't any more.  I recover from the initial hit, look at the problem, then simply go around it - upward and onward.  And every day I make sure (not that it's exactly hard - I love it all so much) I achieve at least one thing on my 'to do' list with each of my books or causes.  I have always been a phonophobic (is that a word??? - I hate using the phone - will avoid it in every way possible - thank goodness for email) but I am even starting to actually talk to people via the telephone, just about daily too.  While that would not be considered an achievement to most - normal people - it is for me but, hey, I have never claimed to be normal - whatever that is!!!

While I am a non-fiction writer I have recently been asked to consider using my creativity and imagination (what creativity and imagination????) to write short stories.  I believe this would be delving in the realm of fiction.  So I have actually begun doing this and will possibly - very possibly actually, add them to my blog.

I will also be repeating my 'Edge of the Outback' from time to time, along with 'The Year My Life Began' and other pieces as I write them.  Just to make sure no-one forgets them of what I am 'all about'.

Stay tuned.

DON'T TRY TO TELL ME THE SYSTEM'S WORKING

I received the following during the week:

'My 13 year old son was assaulted at school last Thursday.  He was pushed to the ground, punched twice in the chest and strangled to the point he was fighting to breathe.
He told no-one as he was petrified of the outcome.
When he got home from school, he told me what happened.  I just lost it - I was so emotional it couldn't contain myself.
After checking him, I found a few scratches on his neck and some redness, I took photos of those. I rang the police who told me there was nothing that they could do because it happened on school grounds.  I explained to them again louder, that my son was assaulted, again 'mam there is nothing we can do'.
I rang the school principal, who the next day, spoke to the boy who assaulted my son, the boy said he didn't know his own strength, two witnesses said that they thought my son was playing.  
Then the principal said to me that he does not believe that the matter is assault or bullying and that the matter is closed.
My son is too scared to go back to school so he spoke to the principal over the phone.  My son told  him everything that happened an also told him that this same boy had been bullying him for a few weeks.  Jacob told him that was not playing and that he was choking - he said he didn't speak to a teacher because he didn't want to be known as a wimp.  The principal then informed my son that he does not believe that it is a bullying matter nor an assault.
That as far as he is concerned the matter is closed.  My son has not been back to school since last Thursday, he doesn't know if he will be called a wimp etc.  Since my son has been home from school his sister and twin brother have had this boy go up to them saying my son is not at school because he is a wimp and a baby.
I contacted Today Tonight.  They have been doing stories on bullying for a few weeks - they are coming out to my house next week to do a story on this.  
Children have the right to feel safe at school, if your principal won't believe you, then what hope do kids have  The police - I am so incredibly disappointed in them - no wonder there are so many teenage suicides, people don't take bullying seriously.

NOW tell me that the wonderful system currently in place is working!!!!  It's NOT.  

This story is being sent to all Ministers of Education around the nation, including the Federal one, along with the major magazines.  This is completely out of control and given that the governments (Federal and state) have been gloating about new legislation having been introduced for many different things, bullying included - there is absolutely no reason WHY it cannot be done for bullying in schools.  

We are also in the process of contacting the magazines which cater for the young and vulnerable minds in Australia, with the hope of writing appropriate articles on bullying (for free, we are only trying to help the victims) for these magazines.  I will not be sparing feelings except for those of the victims.

A RECIPE WITH A DIFFERENCE

Just a little interlude here - something for a bit of a laugh  (IE not to be taken seriously)

A RECIPE WITH A DIFFERENCE

CHRISTMAS CAKE

You will need:  1 cup water, 1 cup sugar, 4 large eggs, 2 cups dried fruit, teaspoon baking soda, 1 cup brown sugar, lemon juice, nuts, bottle whiskey.

Sample whiskey - check for quality.  Take a large bowl.  Check whiskey again to be sure it is of the highest quality.  Pour one large cup and drink.  Turn on electric mixer.  Beat one cup sugar in a large, fluffy bowl.  Add 1 teaspoon sugar and beat again.  Make sure whiskey is still OK - cry another cup.  Turn off mixerer - er.  Break 2 leggs and add to bwol and chuck in cup of dried fruit.  Mix on turner.  If fried druit gets stuck in beaterer - er - ers, pry it loose with a screwdriver.  Sample whiskey for tonsik...tonsiticitic...tonse....taste.  Next sift 2 cups salt, or something, who cares.  Check the whiskey.  Now sift the lemon and strain your nuts.  Add tablespoon sugar or something.  Whatever you can find.  Grease the oven.  Turn the cake tin to 350.  Don't forget to beat off the turner.  Throw the bwol out the window - saves washing it.  Check the whiskey again and go to bed.

Just a bit of fun for you.

LIFE'S GETTING BETTER AND BETTER

Life just gets better and better.  I was on TV today.  Interviewed yesterday.  About migraines.  I am a past sufferer of chronic migraines and those that I suffer from now would be considered debilitating to non-sufferers.  However, given the suffering I endured for around twenty five odd years, these pains are pure heaven.  Well as close to pure heaven as pain CAN be.  As part of a migraine and pain item for the news on one particular channel, I was asked if I would be prepared to be interviewed, having already done so through a local community newspaper.  Absolutely, says me.  And after a week of breaking news interrupting the efforts of the journalist involved and me meeting, we finally did it.  Well that's not strictly true.  A different journalist altogether visited me at home, with a cameraman and conducted the interview in our dining room on Monday.   Interview went well.  I managed to wix my mords only once, right at the start, and along with most of the interview, that was all edited out anyway.  I was texted by a friend this morning with the news that she had just seen me on TV so we knew it was going to be aired tonight.  Only problem was - we all thought it was going to be the current affairs programme, not the news.  Surprise, surprise - it was on the news, shortened/edited heavily and I am the only one in my family to see it - and that was by accident.  Ah well.  But I do have to admit to being disappointed - they did a good job overall and I am told that my role was extremely good and certainly got the point across.  My disappointment lies in the fact that part of the reason I no longer suffer such intense, severe and regular migraines is because of my epiphany.  The epiphany I had one birthday about four years ago.  The epiphany that turned my life around - made me face those things that I have always wanted to do but never known how - write and publish books and all that I mentioned in my last blog posting.  The day my life began.  It was also when my stress levels lowered drastically (I mean, hey, they'll never go away completely - no-one is absolutely stress-free and I am one of those who, if I don't have something to worry about I'll find something!!) and keeping myself very busy, almost too busy, doing things that I love with a passion - well, my migraines all-but disappeared.  Granted, I am being told I am 'one in a million' and that this is something that rarely happens and I know all that and I do consider myself to be very, VERY lucky because this has happened to me.  Now I just want to enjoy my family, my job, my books and helping people, trying to make a difference with my anti-bullying advocacy and my elderly stories project.  I am increasingly being told how passionate I sound about all that I do - and that's because I am exactly that - enormously passionate.  But because I am so happy, so full of life, at the ripe young age of 56 - why shouldn't I want to share this with others?  Try to inspire others, particularly people who are suffering in some way, migraines or anything else.  So I'm having another go at the TV channels and will continue to until someone sits up and takes notice.
  

LIFE IS GREAT

THE YEAR MY LIFE BEGAN

It wasn't at birth.  Nope.  I had the most wonderful and unique childhood and the rest of it leading up to the present - well, like everyone, I have had my share of ups and downs.  But as I will tell anyone who'll listen (and yes, this does mean I talk to myself a lot) I feel my life really did begin only a few years ago.  I turn 57 this year.  I awoke one morning - it was a birthday - with an epiphany - I suddenly realised that I had to get my late Dad's book published - somehow.  Dad had finished writing his book shortly before his death in 1993.  For the following sixteen or so years the manuscript and accompanying documentation was passed between my three older brothers and me, hoping that one of us might actually have it published.  When it landed in my hands for the umpteenth time I typed it up but - er, what comes next?

It was on the morning of that particular birthday that I knew I had to get it out - I still do not know exactly why (or how) but I am presuming that my mother's advancing age (late 80s) might have had something to do with it.  Fit as a fiddle (or at least we thought she was but then she was the world's leader at hiding minor issues like health problems...), but.....  .  It was also then that I hit that stumbling block seriously - the same one that halts many new writers in their tracks, sometimes putting them off altogether.  How do you get published?  And that just might have been enough to put me off altogether as well had the memory of Dad's passion for his writing, ancestry and the outback of Australia, not kept nagging at me.  Added to that the thought of Mum and her pride in Dad's efforts - not seeing his writing coming to fruition - and she wasn't getting any younger - right, that did it.  Turning to good old Google I eventually found a self-publishing business that offered precisely what I was looking for.  From there it was full steam ahead.  No stopping this writer.  Dad's book was published exactly a week after Mum died in 2010.

Damn.  But I am assured that Mum knew it was about to be published and that did make her a happy woman at time of death.

Thus was the catalyst for my writing.  It is in my blood and I am now following a lifelong dream of writing and publishing books.

Next off the rank was 'Bullseye', my book about bullying.  Once that was safely published and released, I decided it was time to combine my writing and one of my other passions, the outback of Australia.  My book on stations is a work in progress.  I am absolutely thriving on it.

I do work full time and long hours.  I am also a wife of some thirty years with two adult daughters.  I have now discovered this passion for writing about subjects I am equally passionate about.  I am fighting bullying and making some headway with this.  I have just begun work on the book which will follow my stations one.  Most of this is mentioned in previous blogs and in my websites.  My latest cause is the one covered in my last blog - encouraging the wonderful elderly folk in Australia to talk to their hearts' content about their lives.  Let it all out.  And have one or two people taping and capturing it all.  Before it's too late.  I also edit and proof work for other authors and have several manuscripts in hand now.

As far as I am concerned, life is great.  The sky really is the limit.

Stations book is going superbly.  The odd hitch here and then but nothing that can't be solved.  Still interviewing these wonderful retired pastoralists and continue to love their honesty, openness and unique humour - something it seems that is unique to the station people of Australia.  Fight against bullying also going very well - have done another couple of radio interviews and starting to get feedback from listeners.  All very encouraging.  Have written to the new Minister for Education in WA and just awaiting a response.  Other project (another book) is beginning to pick up speed too - all good.  

Another new project is also underway and this is one where I am requesting the help of the public.   This one has been triggered by my late father's book, 'The Sawers From Pitcairn' - and it is something I read about being started by someone in the USA (I think) - and I couldn't help but feel how tragic it would be if nothing is done here in Australia.  Dad completed the manuscript for 'The Sawers From Pitcairn' literally just prior to his death in 1993.  It traces part of our family and station history and we are so very grateful to Dad for doing this.  Unfortunately, my mother didn't pen her story at all.  She had planned to and it had been organised for someone to record it - but it never eventuated.  Mum passed away in 2010, exactly a week before Dad's book was released.  So Mum never actually saw it - but she knew that something had finally been done about it and that, I believe, made her a happy woman at point of death.

But - Mum has now gone and taken her own story with her.  It's too late.  How very tragic.  When it would have been so very easy to encourage her to talk about her life (which she loved doing - who doesn't - irrespective of the sort of life led) and have it recorded.  Hey presto - another wonderful story could so easily have been saved.  But - no - she's gone and taken her story with her...lost forever.

Tragic.

As mentioned above research for my stations book involves meeting, interviewing and photographing a group of retired pastoralists.  The second 'mystery' project/book also involves meeting with retirees.  During my first meeting I was stunned by stories of their lives as they recalled them - and watching their eyes light up as they talked - what an overwhelming and humbling experience.  I asked whether their lives had been documented - both said it had't but immediately said their daughter could do it.  I am encouraging this as far as possible - again before it's too late.  Both people are in their eighties.  

I know Australia, like every nation, has many formal historical records and I am also aware that many people are being sensible enough to compile family trees and histories and they are to be applauded for doing this.  Our elderly folk are the last generation to have witnessed so many things which have already been surpassed and replaced repeatedly.  They experienced WWII (sadly most of the diggers from WWI have already gone) - and in this connection I have been in contact with the Department Health and Ageing - they have been wonderful with their encouragement.  Our elderly folk experienced the introduction of the motor car, veteran and vintage and the inventions of so many things.  The list is limitless.

I am not looking to write a book on this (apart from those already underway and other authors I am helping) - I am simply trying to possibly start a group/project/something that can help me act on this idea.  To encourage families and/or volunteers to go into private homes/aged care facilities and in turn encourage the elderly (those that are able to) to reminisce.  To talk to their hearts' content.  Do something that requires no effort on their part, just enjoyment and simply recording and encouragement on behalf of one or more of their audience.

If anyone 'out there' would be interested in helping with this (such a simple idea and what an absolute and pure tragedy if there is no interest) please contact me on abccalligraphy00@hotmail.com.  I would love to hear from you.  There is no money involved.  Just capturing personal memories from our wonderful elderly before they are lost and gone forever.

Thank you.

Seems we have a new Minister for Education in WA.  Having had no success with the previous one I will be sending a letter to the new one ('keeping at them' on recommendation from various people - including some politicians) and pushing our cause further.  Our strategies have changed - I understand one was recently put forward to be included in a review of school anti-bullying policies in Tasmania.  I am waiting to hear the results.  


The Stations Book is going brilliantly.  Am in the middle of contacting heaps of retired pastoralists and all are being absolutely wonderful.  Such lovely, unique people.  I have been requested to kick the stations visits off with one of the participating properties in WA in February - to experience the heat along with witnessing the new school year being started by the School of the Air and other distance learning facilities.  Also trying to gain support from some of the larger national groups that are affiliated with the outback - offering reciprocations.


Was recently approached to write a new book, which will follow the stations one.  This one will be about a maritime disaster which occurred about the same time as the Titanic but was completely overlooked due to the latter.  How very tragic.  We are trying to do something about it.


And one other new project is in the wind.  This idea has come from foreign shores and might already be underway in Australia but I have not heard of anything.  More on that later.....


Stay tuned.  

I'm BAAAACK (think Garfield - I think - one of those cartoon characters anyway).  What a first half of the year it has been.  I am just hoping life will now settle down to a dull roar and the second half might be a little bit quieter.  I live in hope.  We have moved house, taken the most wonderful cruise (badly needed), had two deaths in the family and several others among friends and acquaintances, I have undergone eye surgery and face more later this year (so maybe life won't quieten down) and things are going very well with both my book on stations and the fight against bullying.  Re the latter, one of our list of strategies was recommended recently, by one of the Ministers for Education - a start, nowhere near enough, but at least it is a start.  More ideas are constantly being suggested and some of these are being considered.  As for my book - I am still receiving requests/inquiries from stations wanting to participate which is fantastic.  I have been requested to kick off the station visits themselves in February 2013 - in the hot weather and also the start of the new school year, so I will be able to experience that heat, also see how the School of the Air works these days.  To say I am meeting some of the most wonderful, funny, salt-of-the-earth people through this book, from every aspect, would be an understatement.  I continue interviewing retired pastoralists - what fantastic people.  Remind me so much of my own parents - Mum of course having her own origins in the city, before and moving out to spend so many years in pure isolation, then retirement seeing Dad and her moving back to the city.  Many of the women I am interviewing are from similar background and what interesting people they are.  Some of the men too, which is equally interesting.  I am so enjoying this.  Shortly before the cruise and our move I was approached by someone asking me to write a book about another subject - yes, all a big secret for the moment but I have agreed to do it.  Should be fascinating too and more wonderful people to meet. 

Stay tuned.....

Oops.  Note to self - READ and edit/proof work before publishing.  Yup - I did the unforgivable - wrote my last blog about life on our family station, in a huge hurry then published it  BEFORE editing.  Smacks to self.  This does not normally happen, but it was a personal 'thing' so I didn't worry too much - until I started reading it back recently.  Ouch.  Stay tuned for more goings on in my life - I have just returned from a wonderful cruise - I know it has nothing to do with work but for those of you (the two of you....) who are interested in my actual life - stay tuned.  Next blog - which WILL be edited.....

EDGE OF THE OUTBACK

The following is the reproduction of a piece I wrote many years ago in an effort to give some insight into my world, my passion, my early lift.  Called 'Edge of the Outback' it has been edited/rewritten/proofed many more times than I can count and I am continually adding to it/changing it as time moves on.  It has been sent to every corner of the globe, printed in quite a few international publications and even read over the ABC here in Australia - enjoy.

I offer no apology for the fact that this piece is written in both past and present tense.  Nor for the fact that I have used the imperial measurement system, as opposed to the metric which is used in Australia.  I grew up with the former and it is the way I have always written this piece.

....

Mention the true Australian outback to most people, be they from another nation or Australia and visions of a vast, barren desert, miles upon miles of virtually nothing except a bush here and maybe a tree there are generally conjured up.  Overall not an attractive picture, so most would think.

How wrong can one be.

I was born in Adelaide, capital of South Australia and raised on a sheep station in the north eastern pastoral district of that state.  The station is about 115,000 acres large which is small compared with other stations further up and out.  Our livelihood depended on Merino sheep for their wool and meat and a few head of cattle.  The very barren land still comprises of such vegetation as salt and blue bush, mulga and gum trees among others.  Ours was among the first of the very big sheep stations heading north east of Adelaide.

Peterborough still is the nearest town of any size, being thirty two miles away.  Along with my three elder brothers and our cousins I was educated, until the ripe olf age of eleven, by the School of the Air and correspondence school.

There were times when we had heavy enough rains to isolate us completely but with the technology of today this no longer happens.  In those days (and I am only going back thirty years or so) we had our own generator providing us with thirty two volt power, a telephone connected to a 'party-line', mail once a week and groceries monthly.  The wonderful Royal Flying Doctor Service provided our medical services in emergencies.

My brother and his family were living on and managing the station until a few years ago.  With improved roads and transport my nephew and niece were able to attend the local primary school in Peterborough.  Both then followed the lead of the generations before them and attended boarding school in Adelaide.  While the station remains in our family it is now managed by an employed couple.

As might be gathered from the information thus far rain water is very scarce.  While all (or most) stations have several large concrete tanks, dam water is used for personal bathing, washing and dish washing.  The water looks dreadful, like wishy washy mud, but to many, it is a real novelty to wash and swim in.  We also used to swim in the tanks; in fact this was more common than swimming in the dams and even in the creek, which was a lot of fun.  When swimming in the dams you just had to be careful not to be nipped by a yabby (similar to a crayfish or lobster and just as yummy).  A good deal of Australia's outback water is supplied by huge artesian basins.

While kangaroos are a dearly loved part of the Australian fauna they, along with rabbits and foxes, are also a terrible menace in the outback.  Our station is surrounded by a supposedly dog-proof fence.  However, it seems no-one told the kangaroos this as they cause more damage to the fence than anything else does.  In fact dingoes are plentiful further up north and rarely venture as far south as our station, but we do get the odd stray.  They rip the stock to pieces - not to eat - just for the fun of it.  Rabbits, kangaroos and other pests eat the spear grass and general vegetation, what there is of it, which is food for the stock.

As children, we often rescued orphaned 'joeys' (baby kangaroos), emus, the odd kid (baby goats as most would know), lambs and calves.  Even a carpet python took up temporary residence on our tennis court at one stage.  Also known as the 'Children's Python' these snakes are harmless, so we left it there.  It didn't worry us and we didn't worry it.  It eventually slithered off in search of greener pastures - could still be looking!!!  All these babies were released into the wild once old and strong enough.

Entertainment was and still is a little different out there.  Travelling over one hundred miles (or more - one way) for any kind of social occasion was very much the norm.  Indeed if you weren't prepared to travel your social life did not exist.  'Local' towns held annual race meetings where the interest was on drinking, 'high fashion, drinking, gossip, oh and did I mention drinking?  And then there were the horse races themselves - what horse races????  We actually had race horses at one stage but that was well before my time.

Up to the age of eleven my only real play-mate was my cousin.  Her father, along with my father, co-managed the station for many years.  My cousin and I were eventually sent to different schools in Adelaide and have never really been close since.  She married and remained in South Australia, not far from the station, whereas I married and now live in Western Australia.

We all learned to ride horses and motor bikes and to drive cars (on the station only) almost before we could crawl.  that just seemed to be part of life out there.

At times were were almost completely self-sufficient - raising our own chickens; milk and its bi-products; lamb and mutton; vegetables and fruit.  We even produced bread from our own bread ovens.  In those days we were fortunate enough to have an excellent cook, along with governesses and a 'cowboy'.  Those days are long gone now and we no longer produce any of the above, apart from the meat.  While parts of the sprawling homestead have been modernised for practicality the bread ovens were preserved, along with the old milk separating cellar, although neither is used now.

Like most stations we had a couple of 'outstations'.  In better years one of these housed a family of about fifteen children; the other has been empty as long as I can remember.  (Just an aside:  the eldest two daughters of the first of these outstations have been good enough to write about their lives and a 'Where Are They Now?' summary of their siblings all of which will be included in the book I am currently writing, about stations).  Now both these outstations stand empty and abandoned.

The station homestead itself is typical of many country homesteads, with huge rooms, very thick stone walls, completely surrounded by wide verandahs, huge open fireplaces and very high ceilings,   This building, the engine room, shearers' quarters, shearing shed, stables and assorted other buildings, resembles a small village.

Then there were and still are the 'creepy-crawlies'.  The worst and most venomous snake is the Common Brown but we have also had visits from the King Brown, which lives further north.  Another common species is the afore-mentioned Carpet Python.  As for spiders, the harmless Huntsman is easily the most common and they can grow to be enormous - and very scary to a self-confessed arachnophobic like me.  I have suffered from this fear since early childhood.  I used to try to overcome this for the sakes of my daughters - but that backfired.  Now we are all as terrified as each other.  We also have the Redback spider, a cousin to the Funnelweb, although not as venomous.

Among my childhood and teen memories is one relating to a certain 'uncle' who lived on a nearby station and who owned a Tiger Moth aeroplane.  Uncle Ron had a very welcome habit of flying lower over our station dropping bags of sweets attached to tiny parachutes, for us children.  This occurred annually, after he had visited the Royal Adelaide Show.  We used to love racing each other in the creek bed (which was nearly always dry) at the front of the homestead, searching for those little parcels and trying to find them before anyone else, including the dogs.  We also had an airstrip, as did and do most stations, only ours has been overgrown by salt and blue bush and hardly usable even in emergencies - in fact it would probably cause an emergency if something tried to land on it these days.


The afore-mentioned creek could be very dangerous but equally exciting in those very rare heavy rains.  It didn't even have to be raining on the station - as long as there were heavy enough rains upstream the chances were very high of the creek coming down a 'banker' (meaning a usually bone dry creek suddenly filling to overflowing with very, very fast moving water).  I have only witnessed it once but would not have missed it.  Imagine standing anywhere near a creek and suddenly hearing an almighty roar in the distance to begin with but getting louder by the second - looking in that direction and suddenly seeing a huge bank of water rushing along the creek, filling it to overflowing as it travelled, taking all in its path.  These 'bankers' have been known to drag fences, trees, windmills, junk, animals and absolutely anything that gets in the way as far as the water travels.  We used to find items on stations over two hundred miles away.  Some things have never been found.


There really is just so much more to the magnificent Australian outback than has been mentioned here.  To the eye of the uninitiated it probably still is and always will be a vast, barren, unending desert with very little, if anything to offer - especially when compared with mountains (we have those in the outback too), lush green pastures, rivers, waterfalls, flowers and other flora and fauna.  Yes I concede that the outback could well be considered 'ugly' - but it is not.  It is beautiful if one bothers to take the time to really look and appreciate that beauty.  You do not need a vivid imagination to really see that beauty - there are mountains, beautiful scrubs of trees and wildflowers in abundance.  Just the colours of the hills and valleys at dawn and sunset and after one of those very rare rains, are spectacular in themselves.  I have seen many magnificent paintings of different settings in the outback - they cannot be imagined, they are real, just as are those of snow-capped mountains, waterfalls, rivers and forests.


The fauna of the outback is as impressive as that of the lusher areas   As mentioned, kangaroos abound out there, but not koalas.  These gorgeous creatures are fussy eaters in that, while Australia has numerous types of eucalyptus trees the koala will only eat the leaf of one species and this is only found in certain areas of Australia. Other fauna includes hundreds of different sorts of lizards, snakes (both of which are reptiles), along with many other creatures, some harmful, some not.  Emus, eagles, eaglehawks, budgeridgars, galahs, sulpher-crested cockatoos, rosellas, emus, cockatiels, wild canaries to name just a few.  There are also hundreds of species of gound-living birdlife.


Like every other nation Australia has limitless features of interest for the tourist but I just feel that the outback, which really does have so much to offer, is so often overlooked.  After all it is the backbone of a nation, does make up most of that nation but still so often goes by unnoticed and desperately misunderstood.


So - this is my little effort to help acknowledge and salute, as deserved.


As is gradually becoming known the book that I am currently writing is also devoted to the sheep and cattle stations of our outback.

OK - I admit it - I am completely and absolutely addicted to writing.   Letters (I have over 200 penpals around the world) - yes, my family, personal friends, acquaintances and anyone and everyone else who knows me all think I am mad - but that's life.  I have always had a yearning to write stories as well - fiction was the idea originally but having tried that and failing miserably, no thanks - will leave that to the experts.  Like so many others, I have spent a good part of my life wanting, but not knowing how to start writing and getting books published.  Well, this all changed a few years ago when I woke one birthday (not telling which one) and had an epiphany (love that word - think it's right but not sure but sounds good) - I did realise I needed to get my deceased father's book published and 'out there' - somehow - quickly.  For some weird reason I suddenly felt a very urgent need to get this done - so I got stuck into good old faithful Google and eventually found - something.  I'm actually not sure what it was now but whatever it was, it did help point me in the right direction.  And I succeeded - I had it self-published and it was released - exactly a week after my mother died.  'The Sawers From Pitcairn':   https://www.abcpublishing.info/.  Oops.  Oh well, I did my absolute best and am told she died happy, knowing that the book was about to be released.  And that kinda whetted my appetite - I'd discovered how to have books published - there was no stopping me now.  But not fiction.  Never fiction.  So I turned my efforts to my second book:  'Bullseye' which is a compilation of some thirty six case histories of bullying written and submitted by victims of this horrible phenomena from around Australia and one from the UK.  All have been reproduced as closely as possible to the originals submitted by their authors which does mean that some do, perhaps, present more of a challenge to read, than others do.  As they are all ad lib I acted on legal instruciton at the time not to edit, proof nor change them in any way.  This is mentioned in the introduction.   However, it does appear that a couple of the people who reviewed the book decided either to ignore or not to read the explanation at all and simply returned it to me without explanation.  This did not bother me - just proved that these people are rather ignorant in themselves.   Anyway I am a writer and as such, I write - I tend to rave on for ages and pages and like mosf of the rest of the world, I have lots'n'lots'n'lots to rave on about....but until next time...stay tuned....same station...

FIGHTING BULLYING AND THE BOOK ON STATIONS

Fight against bullying is progressing with victims now starting to realise they can come forward to vent, remaining completely anonymous.  Some nasty stories out there too and regardless of what the Government is trying to tell me, programmes/strategies etc that are currently in place are NOT working.  We need action and that's what we are aiming for.  Meanwhile the research for my current book on the sheep and cattle stations of this great nation is progressing brilliantly.  Am meeting some wonderful people, all sharing my own background and their humour is equal to none.  
Stay tuned.

I have just been emailed two horrific stories about cyber-bullying and a couple of other forms - and a third where I am encouraging the victim to open up and tell me more.  It is becoming increasingly evident that 'all' that the governments are doing is not working and action really does need to be taken - before any more serious reactions are taken by victims.   As most MPs across Australia now have my email details on hand victims are gradually starting to gain the confidence to come forward and email their experiences to me - it will all help toward our ultimate goal - to introduce legislation to drastically reduce bullying in schools nationwide, make the schools more accountable (accountable at all....) with the eventual aim of making it illegal.  We do know this will not stop bullying but should at least deter some of the perpetrators when they realise that their actions will result in legal repercussions.  Please come forward victims and tell us....all stories are welcome, particularly cyber-bullying.

Wow...already at the end of February.  Ouch.  Another year underway.  The fight against bullying continues in earnest - I have already done a couple of radio interviews and victims of this horrible act, past and present, are starting to become confident enough to come forward and vent to me, which is fantastic.  But there are some horrible stories out there.  Now victims can also go to their local MP and my details should be available for them to contact me that way as well.  Remembering that there is also the chance that all stories could 'go public'.  But again not without the express permission of victims.  My next book is also going extremely well.   It is about sheep and cattle stations of this great nation of ours.  So far I have around twenty stations (several from each state) participating and continue to receive enquiries and requests.  All wonderful.  I have also conducted the initial interviews with a few retired pastoralists - what an absolute pleeasure they are proving to be.  Such humour.  I am so enjoying this.  We have also decided to make the cover design and title of the book into a competition for the students and families of long distance learning throughout the nation.  
Stay tuned.