Excuse me there are crumbs in my social inclusion agenda

My neighbour's dog is called Spike and he’s very scared of thunder.

Every time the thunder roles in from the West, Spike burrows under his fence and arrives at our back door.

My neighbour, Jan, bought Spike a blanket from the internet  - Thunderwear the original anxiety wrap. But the promises rang hollow, the blanket didn’t comfort Spike in his hour of need, or feel like an owners' caress and every time the thunder roles in from the West, Spike burrows under his fence and arrives at our back door.

'Oh Spiky, we say, we love you spiky' and as he sits on our knees his shivers subsiding,we ring our neighbour Jan:

We’ve got Spike – what’s he worth this time?

We are up to the largest box of family favorites now.

And like a box of family favourites, there is a favorite week of the year for everyone.

Youth Week, seniors week, my favorite week of the year is Social Inclusion week.

I love to see what the finest bureaucratic minds in Australia have put together for Social Inclusion week: A foot ball game, A BBQ – never underestimate the power of the sausage and happy hour, for a whole hour in social inclusion week  that you get to be happy.

I read the social inclusion agenda, it’s a top read, but surprisingly there’s no mention of Spike.

This is Spike 

Excuse me there are crumbs in my Audio Tour

Welcome to the Audio Tour of a small not for profit community organisation 

Microwave Feminism

We've had first wave

We've had second wave

Now it's time for Microwave Feminism

#Microwavefeminism  it's polemic

#Microwavefeminism it's erudite

#Microwavefeminism when you press defrost
you are fully emancipated 

#Microwavefeminism it's coming to a sponge near you

Jowly Men in Suits

 As we grapple with yet another leadership stoush here in Australia the idea is that if Prime Minister Abbott is out, then another - better option  - will come in.

 Of course that is balderdash, one man out, another man in - usually sporting a jowly chin.

 Sighs all round.

 My kids - two girls, hate watching comedy on TV with me - and when I say hate, I don't mean hate as in: I hate salt and vinegar chips, give me thrice baked honey coated soy vegan flavored chips instead kind of hate,I mean really HATE it.

 We watched Adam Hills Uk show the other night, I was ready:  arms folded, jaw clenched, grumpy before the first joke was told.

Look, I said, just firkin look, 3 men, not a woman in site, there are no funny women on TV kids, none, well rarely anyway. 

I watched: jaws clenched, arms folded, brow furrowed.

Oh mum, there are loads of funny women, you always say that, and just shush, just this once could you just shush and not complain about the lack of funny women on TV.

 So I watched, the strong cup of tea didn't help, the half eaten bag of malteasers, whilst lovely, didn't help and the only reference to women on the show was a lolling paper cut out of Sarah Palin's head, which really didn't help.

 You can do anything, I say to my kids, one is 10 and other is 16- anything at all, I say.In life, I mean not like anything at all - like eat the whole  box of Thornton's assortment - which I might add is a surprising addition to the supermarket shelves in Australia - I'm from the UK and seeing Thornton's on the supermarket shelves is nice but just cheapens Thorntons' somewhat - I digress .

You can do anything: I encourage them to give comedy a go - it's really empowering, I tell them, it's up there with birth and getting a cleaner in once a fortnight.

Give stuff a go I encourage them - the 16 year old is taking that a bit literally, but hey YOLO.

Back to the leadership stoush. Our esteemed prime minister - remained in power, his portfolio intact - he is the self appointed minister for women's affairs.

Excuse me there are creeps in my comedy

So we watch the news, eyes glazing over like a nice ham at Christmas time -  as the political rhetoric is spewed forth, men in suits nodding, their jowly chins wobbling.

Mum the kids say in unison, look it’s just like watching a comedy show right? Not a woman in site. 

Sighs all round. Bag of malteasers at the ready.

Yes, I say,  yes it is.

The only difference is the politicians get paid a lot more than comedians do and their chins wobble so much, that they really should join the circus instead of doing politics.

Hang on a minute...

PRICE CHECK PART II

 Part II of Price Check, two more instalments to go.


The radiant heat from the traffic and the concrete throbs with intensity. It’s 10am and  already 30 degrees +.

If she closes her eyes slightly, she pretends that the roaring noise is the ocean, not the traffic. The Northern suburbs of Melbourne are heavy and tired from the incessant heat.

It took her till now, till she had the baby, to understand the seasons and to understand how the sun travelled across the sky in Australia.

Arriving from the UK 10 years before, understanding those things hadn’t mattered, that was a time in her life when she hardly understood herself, never mind her surroundings.

When she was pregnant though, someone had said Oh how lovely you are having a spring baby. It clicked then that spring was late in the year, that the heat came at Christmas time, that an English summer was an Australian winter. She had not understood it till she had birthed, nor had she ever looked or cared about the direction the sun travelled during the day. 

The position of the pram could be changed to suit the direction of the sun. The sun rose in the east, traveled over the North and set in the West. The pram faced west as she walked down to the supermarket, the hot sun was behind her. It mattered somehow that she knew this, that she knew where the sun would be, so that she could change the direction that the pram was facing, as she walked around the streets.

Milk, nappies, coffee, something for dinner, the list was created to put purpose into her day. A trip to the supermarket felt like an achievement, it was something started and completed in one day. Unlike the rest of it: the blur of feeding, the saté poohy nappies, the thin streams of vomit always across her back, the all pervading smell of wipes and milk and the long, slow stretch of the days.

She knew no one in the suburb where she lived. Most days she spoke only to the check out chicks at the supermarket. Often she would stare at passers by, wishing that they would be her friends.

She passes the post boxes, walks the long road to the supermarket, trying to find beauty as she goes: a flower, a tree in bloom, a cat sitting in a window, a gum tree. Nothing assailed her quite like the silvery green of a gum tree, the endless varieties, the red explosion of colour on some of them, their gracefulness, their starkness, it always makes her stop and reminds her,  I am here now, I am in Australia and I am completely alone.

Excuse me there are gums in my comedy.

The baby slept through the walk down to the supermarket. She usually had an hour or so before her breasts sprung a leak, before she had to un harness her self, find somewhere to sit and feed the infant. Releasing the engorged heaviness into the infants wide hungry mouth.

There was always the large black and brown Alsatian dog, barking at number 365, a renovation that seemed to be taking for ever at 451, a strange garden made up of a manicured lawn and topiaried bushes clipped into the shape of strange animals. The tree animals had plastic black and white stuck on eyes, the kind you would usually find on a hand made teddy bear. It would have taken hours to keep the strange beasts in shape, but she had never seen anyone tend the garden, she imagined that they did the topiary work under the cover of darkness, a torch guiding the hedge trimmer, the light strange and the shadows short and thew teddy bear stuck on eyes never moving staring blankly out to passer byes. Number 598 was a dilapidated run down house, with a letter box stuffed with unopened mail and yellowing newspapers. 

She crosses the road to the supermarket at 624, a smart brick house with white blinds and a concrete driveway.As she reaches the supermarket carpark, the heat seems to intensify around all of the parked cars.

The cool air is a blast across her face and body as she enters the supermarket.

Sigange

When my kids were infants, I took the word baby, off the baby on board sticker and I replaced it with the word Phenurgan.

Hoping that someone just might get a little drowsy.

Phenurgan on Board

 

Monogamy

Funny Bits was filmed November 2014

Monogamy is a little bit of it.