Ketchup

Well, I mean catch-up. It’s time for a good one, I believe! Ok, so this year, I am not going to get any blogger awards, and I feel sorry about that. It seems like the way our lives are yo-yoing around, there hasn’t been time. But that is just an excuse, and really I am doing myself a disservice as I find this quite therapeutic. So, there you have it, proof that blogging is really a self-indulgent exercise.

So, where in the world is the Jackson family, well, right here, in Lake Tinaroo, of course! Yes, Roy and I, after some hardship and heartache, took a risk, a leap, a giant step into the unknown and came up to Far North Queensland in May for work. We live in an area inland from Cairns called ‘The Tablelands’. Now, I’ve always professed to love Queensland, but my dears, this place is truly heaven!

Our arrival here was quite sudden. We were struggling to find good work or any work in Maryborough, our first intended ‘forever’ kind of place, but nothing seemed to be going our way. We contacted the department of education and found out there was two teaching jobs going, way up here, so Roy and I packed up, quickly, and headed off, leaving Honey with his parents (who now live with us). Now we only lasted about a week before we had Honey and Diana (Roy’s mum) shipped up to be with us, but it was a very big deal.

I suppose looking back, it was all meant to be. We had one plan. God had another. A door opened, we went through. We’ve since moved the whole family, Roy, myself, Honey, Roy’s parents, Roy’s grandma, one three-legged dog and two cats here to our new little patch of paradise. Yes, two are missing, but hopefully not for long. Caleb and Amelie are here during all the holidays and are planning to move here at the end of the year.

So, we are not where we started, we are not where we went, we are here. Lake Tinaroo. To be fair, we don’t actually work in Lake Tinaroo, but it’s worth the 30 minute drive. A place, a magical, heavenly place, still very much a secret to the rest of the world is our home. Stay tuned!

The Luck of the Irish

Yesterday was St Patrick's day here in Australia. And while it is not as big of deal here as the USA or Ireland for that matter, Roy and I still enjoyed heading out to an Irish pub for a meal and a drink together. I had the day off and we also wandered out to the local markets and bought some of the farm fresh produce that is so readily available here in Queensland.

It was an uneventful day and despite the worries we've been having over finding permanent work I felt that we were settling in to life here and enjoying some of life's little pleasures again.

Later that evening, I wanted to try out a new recipe for bruchetta that I had made at school with a cooking class. Roy had gone upstairs to watch a movie and Honey was playing around in the kitchen with me. After enjoying my 'meal for one' and observing a mess that Honey had made on the carpet, I decided to do a quick vacuum.

Diana (Roy's mum, who lives next door in our granny flat) had come over to say goodnight and have a chat. I pulled out the vacuum and began attacking the mess on the carpet. It was a rather deep pile rug and I bent down to move the power head a bit further over the worst of the mess. I had both hands on the metal rod of the vacuum.

The next thing I know, I feel a strange tingling in my arms and realize that electricity is pulsing through the rod of the vacuum. My hands were contracted onto the pole and I could not let go. I started to scream hysterically, not even aware that anyone is in the room with me. I lifted my knee to try to push the vacuum out of my hands, but just feel the electricity jolt into my knee. I'm still screaming like a banshee. My mind is spinning. I can't believe this is it. I know I'm going to die. I don't want to die. I picture my body failing, my fingers exploding.

Suddenly, it stops, as unexpectedly it starts. Diana had the presence of mind to pull the cord from the wall. I smelled burnt skin. I looked down at my left and saw my hand has been burned around my wedding ring, but everything else seems to be fine.

Although, I knew I was now ok, I was in shock and cried all the way to the hospital. They all said the same thing, "I'm lucky to be alive."

I guess its a good thing I'm Irish.

Need I say more?

I think this photo might sum up the kind of day I've had today. I don't know if there is a measuring stick long enough to measure how hard it can be to be a relief teacher (substitute teacher).

At the start, the class eye you with suspicion and then there is a quiet calm as they lull you into the belief that this might actually be a 'good class'. What is really happening is they are using their super human child brains to size you up, calculate your weaknesses and ready themselves for the pounce. The pounce is a strange chain reaction sequence that begins its ripple affect slowly at first, and then bam, they all start popping like kernels in a fry pan. One after the other, their true colours show as they begin attacking from all sides. You are thrown off your game. Your cool is going, in fact a nuclear disaster is in the making.

That's when the threats begin. You scramble to remember the names of the naughty ones and forget about the rest. Names go on the board. Bribes are promised for good behaviour which end up being a royal waste of breath. You just pray a sigh of relief that the principal walks past in rare moment of peace and quiet before the bedlam breaks out again.

By the end of the day, you get the out right "you can't tell me what to do!" You find yourself ready to wave the white flag. "Somebody rescue me!" The bell rings. Ahhh, you walk out. Smell the freedom in the air. Promise you will NEVER return to 'this' school, but yet another day and another dollar or so away, it begins again.

The Blogs that never were...

I may be accused of being 'slack' as I'm sure its been well over a year since my last post... I often think of writing, but that's as far as it goes. If I had been writing, maybe some of my post titles would have gone something like this:

Honey arrives!
The Big Boob Fiasco and Projectile Vomit.
Bottle Saves the Day!
The Catholic Experience.
The Never Ending Relief Job.
Rain, Rain Rain, Rain Rain Rain Rain...
The Adelaide Experience.
A Butcher Shop?
Yes, A butcher shop!
Sell, Sell, Sell!
Can't Sell.
Moving on, moving out.
"Just pray it wasn't the head gasket mate!"
Paradise at last.
Strange smells, noises and no towel rails!
Uh oh.
Now What??????????
Rain, Rain, Rain Rain Rain and MORE BLOODY Rain!
Fishing from Home.
Saying Goodbye. :(
Endless tears.
Turning a Corner.
Waiting and Reading.

So, there you have it, all the blogs I might have written.
I'll do better now, write better now, and maybe Roy will join me too. :)

Get ready to share in our crazy adventure.

Not much to say!

Not much to say. I’ve been working and now I’m on holidays. Yeah!

Okay to fill in some blanks we had a baby, little Honey and I quit my job :). However I had to find a new one :(. I did manage to find one teaching Year 7 and 8 Maths and Science. Now does that sound bloody dorky or what? Now I don’t mind Science, you know blowing shit up and stuff but Maths? Doesn’t matter though as it opens up a lot of job opportunities throughout Australia, and maybe the World. Heh, heh, heh… I am excited and nervous about the job but we’ll get through it. My last act at Living Waters was to drink Crownies out the back of the classroom, sweet.

Baby Honey is great. She is the best. Although Heather will always be my greatest love of all, Honey is not quite as infuriating as Heather, but just as cute.

She is now on the bottle which means her crap is thick, smelly and just disgusting. Oh it is a nightmare. I wake up in a sweat dreaming about her nappies. It gets worse, the nappies, but I will be hard at work so it’s all good. My mum is here at the moment and as much as she drives me up the bloody wall she is fantastic and we are both so grateful for her help and support.


Arial view of Tennant Creek!


Anyway I am planning holidays to the US and other places, which Heather disapproves of, so you never know where and when we might turn up. Knowing Heather it will probably be Tennant Creek for two days in a frigin’ tent. I told her that I booked tickets to Seattle and she hit the roof.(heh heh) It didn’t go down well. It was a good way to test the waters.

Oh we got the spa up and running and the kids and us have all been paddling about in balmy weather you know 35 – 43 degrees. It may be hot but it beats freezing your nuts off else where!




Christmas this year will be held at three places. We will be at my Uncle Dudley’s for breakfast at 7am, which Heather is still shitty about as we have to be up by 5am to get presents unwrapped. She has already said that she is going in her pajamas, and considering she wears nothing but a smile to bed it will make for an interesting Christmas morning. Later, we go to Jill’s for lunch than back to our place for Christmas dinner. Bloody tiring but enjoyable and well worth the running around.

Little Honey gets Christened on the 27th so everyone and a few more will be back at our place for lunch. She is going to wear a beautiful Christening gown that I wore; so you understand that my mum’s absolutely welling up. It should be a good day. Honey will be christened in the same church and by the same pastor that did our wedding. Admittedly he is as boring as bat shit but he does great weddings, funerals and christenings.

That’s right Heather and I celebrated our one year anniversary on Sunday. We booked a room at the Casino and dumped the kids on mum and dad, although they didn’t seem too upset about looking after them. We had a nice meal at a new restaurant and played Keno. Heather did her usual trick of winning a couple of dollars and instead of reinvesting she happily took the four dollars and left. I love her for all her unusual ways. We are very happy.

Anyway I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Socks

I don't think I'd be wrong in saying that for most people with school age children, mornings can be anything from a rabble to a nightmare. In our house, as soon as we peel our weary selves out of bed, its all systems go. Showering, making lunches, finding school clothes, threatening the kids who won't get out of bed, etc etc etc.

This morning, I got up a fraction early, feeling a little more ready than usual. I ironed Roy's clothes and was pleased with myself for getting a few loads of washing done the night before, so I could actually find something for myself to wear.

I was happily having my shower, when Roy poked his head in and asked if I had washed any of his socks. I replied that I had only done darks, but that I think he had several pair in his underwear basket (a new system I am using to sort everyone's easy to lose undergarments). He informed me that they were sport socks, not the long socks he wanted.

Now, I dare say, MOST men would just deal with this situation. They would wear a dirtied pair or wear the sports socks, but NOT Roy. The next thing, I feel the shower go cold. I said, "Have you got water on?" Reply: "Yes, I am washing a pair of socks." Now Roy has a tendency to exaggerate, so I laughed and asked if he'd put anything else in the load. "NO." I was still giggling because I didn't believe him.

So, I hop out of the shower and went to investigate. I open the lid to the washer and sure enough... there is one pair of socks swishing away in half a tank of water. Even the laundry softener liquid has been added. "ROY!!!"

"What, they will wash quicker with less stuff in the machine."

"No they won't."

So, being the kind that cannot waste that much water, I scramble around for a small load of 'other' socks that HE might want for tomorrow and a few other whites that would fit in the load. In the end, the socks got cleaned and dried, well sort of. I think there was a slight wetness in his shoes this morning. I am still laughing about it. :P

Nothing Funny or Light

I suppose having a baby, bringing new life into the world gets me thinking about numbers. Ages in particular. I work out that when I’m 70 the baby will still be in their late 20’s. I do worry about things like that, although I do feel very young at heart and having had a string of medical tests, which came back with good results, I feel confident that I won’t just keel over. Problem is you just don’t know what’s coming ‘round the bend.

Honestly, I’m not that concerned about mortality or aging. What this does get me thinking about is family or more so the dwindling numbers of my family. How Heather and the baby haven’t met certain family members who helped make me who I am. Heather says that she can see bits of my dad, uncles and even my mum in me but it’s not the full picture. It’s just I wish she could have met the people who have died and who had the greatest influence on me.

My Uncle Jeffery was a man who loved sport, gambling, laughing with three wild sons, stirred up constantly by him and a loving wife whom he was devoted to. He died five years ago from cancer. He was only in his late 50’s. I always wanted to have a marriage like theirs. They didn’t hide their love and joy for each other from anyone. Of course they had bad times but their love was stronger then any disagreement. I feel Heather and I have that. I just wish that both Heather and Jeffery could have met as she could see a little of what she was getting into and I’m sure she'd want to be a part of it.

My Da died during first term of 2008. About a month or so later Heather and I were together. The thought of them never meeting really chokes me up. We have both visited his graveside and I get overcome with emotion with Heather by my side while visiting him. Heather would have laughed at his sense of humour, or his perceived sense humour. Da loved his family and put up with everyone’s egos and tempers with a smile. He held the family together with his love and understanding of us all and a quite inner strength that made us all feel safe. He showed enormous strength when fighting cancer and an aortic aneurism. He proved a hard man to kill. He loved his family coming together for all occasions especially Christmas. He loved getting presents. Da gave so much I don’t think anyone objected to him enjoying receiving presents. Even then the enjoyment and gratitude he showed when getting presents would give the giver such satisfaction and joy. It was his gift to us all.

I can keep Uncle Jeffery and Da alive by showing Heather and the baby the lessons and gifts these two great men gave men.

I love you Heather.