Sunday, July 05, 2009
past meets future
Time will tell...hours, days and weeks have passed and I am yet to update. I have been doing so much in the time I don't feel I can do justice to the events or to the people I have shared them with. But what the hell I will give it a go. Moments of self annihilation seem to be at the forefront of my expeditions, but thankfully I am alive to share and thanks to people who care.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
It is Sunday
It is Sunday and it is great because I still have another day off. Last night was interesting, i had a few beverages and fell asleep and woke up on a matress in a friends lounge room. I actually had a really pleasant nap. When i woke the TV was still on, but the sound had been muted. For nearly an hour i attempted to watch the movie on screen and work out what they were saying and what was going on. It me appreciate the skill that people with hearing problems develop to cope successfully in life. I sort of got the flow of the movie and what was going on, it as somthing to do with the kids taking the parents captive in the basement and they parents trying to escape.
I played several games of backgammon today and an old Asian game called Trimbula. It is a strange game, similiar principal to connect 4 except you use marbles and it is over three layers. It was fun and would of been better if i had of won. Oh well always next time.
Just a quick update on the vegies. My neighbour introduced me to THRIVE, which helps your plants to grow. That stuff is amazing, put it on and over night they took off like mad. The tomatoes are starting to fruit and my lettuce is almost ready to eat. (I hope it isn't bitter).
Well iam off to eat some Hare Krishna food. So yet again Sunday turns out to be a great day.
I played several games of backgammon today and an old Asian game called Trimbula. It is a strange game, similiar principal to connect 4 except you use marbles and it is over three layers. It was fun and would of been better if i had of won. Oh well always next time.
Just a quick update on the vegies. My neighbour introduced me to THRIVE, which helps your plants to grow. That stuff is amazing, put it on and over night they took off like mad. The tomatoes are starting to fruit and my lettuce is almost ready to eat. (I hope it isn't bitter).
Well iam off to eat some Hare Krishna food. So yet again Sunday turns out to be a great day.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
when something is something else....
Well it has been of week of new and not so exciting times. I have met lots of parents and that was strange. I also participated in a team for an adventure race.
But! what was most dissapointing in the week, was that this evening i went to the bottle shop to get a few beverages to enjoy after the stressful times. While i looked around i selected a six pack of the old faithful and made up my mind that i would also try something new. Flicking my eyes up, down, left and right and pacing forward, back, left and right i chose a ginger beer. Being a fan of ginger beer i had great expectations of a brew from a well renowned brewery. The expectations were elated as i popped the top and was aroused by the aromatic linger. This linger was soon surpased by the lack of taste and poor structure of the ginger beer. The taste can be described as chewing a ginger bread man and then drinking a class of water. Or dunking a ginger nut biscuit in a cold cup tea. I commend the bottle shop attendant who warned and i was yet the fool who still bought it.
Ginger beer needs to be GINGER BEER!
But! what was most dissapointing in the week, was that this evening i went to the bottle shop to get a few beverages to enjoy after the stressful times. While i looked around i selected a six pack of the old faithful and made up my mind that i would also try something new. Flicking my eyes up, down, left and right and pacing forward, back, left and right i chose a ginger beer. Being a fan of ginger beer i had great expectations of a brew from a well renowned brewery. The expectations were elated as i popped the top and was aroused by the aromatic linger. This linger was soon surpased by the lack of taste and poor structure of the ginger beer. The taste can be described as chewing a ginger bread man and then drinking a class of water. Or dunking a ginger nut biscuit in a cold cup tea. I commend the bottle shop attendant who warned and i was yet the fool who still bought it.
Ginger beer needs to be GINGER BEER!
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Easter in the Bay...Easter in the Rain
(This is unedited and purely train of thought, apology for any discrepancies)
Apologies to all who care to read, but I have been on holidays and forgot to give any notice.
The past week has been somewhat of an interesting, enjoyable and pleasant week full of tales and adventures with old and new friends. I began school holidays Thursday afternoon and my fun began.
Thursday
Woke up was rainy and for school we had school cross country. Faked out that I forgot my runners, so was then forced onto crowd control for the day in the pouring rain. Had to put on a smiling face for all the parents. They probably thought I was pretty charming. When the herd was released I went and had one beer with the social club before embarking on my weekend’s adventure.
As my car is a heaper I got picked up by a mate and went to Brisbane for the evening before planning to leave early for Byron Bay in the morning. In Brisbane has a few beers at the Brunswick Hotel with the locals for some karaoke. That evening we got free subway which was pretty sweet. With a few larger days ahead we took the option for some sleep and returned to the den.
Friday
On awakening, the skies had held off a little and I may or may not have cracked a morning beer. The scent of the adventure had filled my lungs and in a whisk it had all begun.
The journey was fun and we received a few waves from fellow adventures on their journey south. Their smiles were a memorable engagement of intent of the gratification that lay ahead.
Driving into the Bay brought back memories and thoughts of previous festivities. These memories mostly all good brought on a rye smile. We selected the car park at main beach. The collaboration of people already developing in front of my eyes was fulfilment to the moment. People sleeping in cars, showering in public, protesting for legalisation of weed and eating breakfast in cafes was a culmination of individuals who all had stories to tell. I took a moment to look around before going out for a surf.
After the surf sat on the rocks and consumed another beverage. Pleasantries are not meant to be taken for granted, moments are. And so after soaking up some UV and the vibe cruised onto the camp grounds.
It was at the camp ground the welcoming to the humble adobe was some familiar faces. I placed my swag under the large tarp to which I called home for the following days. A few bevies another trip to the beach where surprising ran into another school friend who was sunbaking on the beach. The surprises kept on arising. Little did I know that coming face to face with an old friend could turn out to be a valuable meeting.
After a short swim we returned to camp cleaned up and decided that it was time to enter the festival. With expectation of mud galore nothing could surprise us. Blue King Brown rarely fail to deliver a mood for dancing and fun. The day was great with a feed of Govindas and a few more bevies. As I did some individual adventuring I came across a band called ‘Tinawren’. To my surprise they were all dressed in turbans and were of middle eastern culture. Through their presence and the stereotypes that they broke down was something of and astonishment to myself and the awe of the crowd. The night came to a close and I somehow made it back to my swag under the tarp where I belted out a tune as I dozed into a delightful sleep. I believe before bed, Ian and I were up and had a Kung Fu battle. Not sure who won but I did probably try some sweet roundhouse snap kick.
Saturday
Waking to the sound of rain is a beautiful experience and that is exactly what happened I my peepers opened their eyes on Saturday morning. After some serious procrastination and arrival of more comrades a decision was made to go to Broken Head for a surf. Thus the chariots exited the grounds and onward we went. On arrival it was busy and wet. I with my ignorant intent pissed everyone off by puddle jumping neap people. They weren’t impressed. My surfboard was tossed into the bushes and I was chased and so stopped my annoying behaviour.
At Broken Head their happened to be a surfing competition on. The tide was high and the wind got up but we still ventured into the ocean. Crowded, small and a good vibe were enough to create satisfaction on the exodus of the ocean. We were also acquainted with another friend at the head.
Waiting to leave I consumed another beer and a tin of beans which I believed was the combination of kings. The drive in the rain back to camp was one of anticipation as the days proceedings were pondered and discussed. On the tip of out tongues were Ben Harper and his new band. After a quick feed, change of shoes we were off again on the bus of dreams to the festival. By the bus of dreams I am referring to the mad dudes the had an old school bus and just piled as many on as they could and took us to the festival.
On arrival the buzz of the booze and the sound of music congested my thoughts and the feelings of joy and content soothed through my body. The afternoon was enlightened by the extraordinaire Seasick Steve who took the stage with his cigar box and strings and proved that it doesn’t take and amazing guitar to create a beautiful sound. Govindas was eaten again and satisfaction was achieved. Anticipation had filled the fest as Harper loomed. Backed by and amazing band Ben banged out a good set highlighted by the David Bowie cover ‘Under Pressure’ which took the crowds breath away. As the night drew close and the crowd thinned out I departed the venue and made my way back to camp. On the way I met some interesting people by the name of Viv (who worked for anti-racism) and El and friends (who were just party animals). On arrival at camp I passed out and missed the party that went on under the tarp just next to me. Two Americans talking trash and the neighbours around I have no idea how I missed it all.
Sunday
I woke feeling a little worse for wear. Not terrible just a little shaky and well hung-over. We opted for a surf at main beach and was a fun little beach break. After being in the water for awhile the name of Seasick Steve wore off on me and I became a little green and went and laid on the beach. Post surf we stopped at woollies and with a bottle of Pellagrino and the prospect of bacon and eggs I knew that help was on its way.
The feed was satisfying and it was time for a few more drinks to begin the buzz for the day. After mucking around and finally getting out shit together to head to the festival we were off to catch the bus again. Fortune struck with Tom the Taxi driver outside the campsite. Tom was patient, erratic and careless. Perfect for a cab driver in a busy location and passengers with places to be. He kindly overloaded, didn’t care about the police and took as many shortcuts and backstreets as possible to make the ride full of gratitude with little grief. He even kindly dropped us as close as possible to the festival and saved my legs a few hundred metres. Sundays line-up was not to me missed with the like of PK and JBT taking the stage. The elated vibe began with JL and his slide guitar and every pleasing blues antics. BKB one again played a comfortable and bouncy set. I spent majority of the afternoon and evening in the massive tent; sweating, drinking and meeting new friends. Roxy and co were wonderful companions for moments between music.
Paul Kelly proved that good music never dies and with a grand old sing along everyone became best mates. His music did the talking and lead as a wonderful introduction for JBT. JB passion for the environment flowed through the air and the essence of his comments made me think. Think so much that I may have turned to a friend I was with (who is a town planner) and told her that it was her and her company that were F*&*&^# things up for all us. She didn’t seem to impressed by my remarks, but I am sure the bridge has been built and life goes on. Well I still believe they are. A hooray for the future. Passion is something that is often hard to pass onto others unless you truly live and breathe it, but JBT found a way to transpose it onto most.
On the exodus a friend and I had a bickering over what was the best solution to go home. My suggestion was to make the trip home short and sharp, while he believed waiting was the best. After a small altercation a compromise was made and it was settled that we get a kebab. Might I add it turned out to be a dam good kebab at that. Made at pure high speeds and exactly in time with the techno music blasting in the shop. Absorbing the kebab into my body was a feeling of bliss and ecstasy. The homeward bound journey continued in search of a shuttle to take the tired, restless and kebab wounded home.
Feeling rather still alive and joyess on arrival, it was instigated to climb into a large plastic storage container and use it as a bath. Snaps were taken, shower gel applied and I left the container a clean and new man. It is moments like those that you need to embrace and cherish. Clean, not cut and with some dirt still between my toes it was pass out time again.
Monday
Monday I awoke to a friend departing the humble surroundings and heading back to reality. Left on my pillow was the band I was to use to get into the festival for another day. Opting not to return I faced the risk of several hours bus and train to return to my humble home on the Tuesday. Risk assessment taken I farewelled my safety lifts and fellow travellers and took hold the day and music to come.
A kind friend cooked a breakfast suited for kings, queens, princes and princesses. Fed, weathered and raring to go, I was enlightened by an intelligent idea. Ask the old school friend I had bumped into at the beach for a lift back home. To great avail the deal was done and the offer accepted. Life can be grand most of the time.
Drinks began to flow and plans began to be made and off we all set for another day of eternal enjoyment. The enjoyment came to a rugged halt as traffic and the bus moved in a creep and a consensus vote was taken to exit the bus and walk. With a stop at the little boys room , followed by the bottleo for a tallie, the walk began. The walk was a good spirited experience with smiles being shot from all directions. Time seemed to shoot as in what seemed like minutes we arrived at the gates of love and mud.
Chivalry is back! Yes you have heard it here first. Well at least I think it is. On the stroll in through the chicken shoot I instantly gave into the slosh of dirt and water and stepped got the sneakers dirty. Only metre before the dry land I heard the scream of a young woman who was literally stuck in the mud. Without any thought I felt it was my duty to assist the lady. I ventured into the baron wasteland and offered my trusty back for a ride to higher ground. Her bewilderment came as a surprise as the old fashion piggy back was put back into action. The short trudge was interesting as names were exchanged a kiss on my neck and I was even informed of her height, she above average in height. Without waiting for any thankyous I placed her thongs in position and continued on my way. I hope she has a nice day.
As the rain continued to poor and the puddles began to rise it was evident that it was time to embrace the poncho rather than fight it. Dressed head to toe in my green poncho it was off to check out the musical diversity for the day. We had become acquainted with a German girl who was absolutely mad. She was a fun lass with plenty of joke and humour to share. We shared the experience of X Rudd who offered a culturing enriching perspective on the respect of people and plants, a message which is often forgotten in the busy corporate world. After stitches of laughter, some at the expense at others ignorance, I departed the lass and company and joined a new team.
The new team and I ventured through the battles that mother nature was hurling and came to the conclusion that food was needed. In the safety of a large tent, much grub was divulged from a variety of origins. Interesting at this time was a young Asian boy who had little to no fear of older humans. His confidence surpassed his size and he moved around the food pavilion attracting and drawing attention fr0m all the groups he could find. His relaxed parents looked on as the social butterfly flittered and floated his way around.
A decision was made to progress on into the evening and join up with some other fellow friends. They had found shelter under another tent and seemed content to see what was to unfold. We waited with them until it was time to see BH again and we moved into the dense and intensifying crowd. Playing a similar set which I believed was musical satisfaction, was not seen as the same view as all punters. The edges of the tent began to thin as the songs drew on. Sliders in the mud took some of the attention as they splurged in the soggy soil.
Leaving the festival for the last time, with ears lingering of blues we thought it be intelligent to follow the exit sign. Knowing it was not the normal exit it was agreed that it should all lead to the same spot. Little did we know we would end up in a sea of sludge with a broken umbrella and only our humorous perspective to get us through. Cars bogged, skies open and people tripping was enough to satisfy the adventure of the walk. With lights on the horizon as out destination we put one foot in front of each other to reach the chariot (Honda CRV). The pleasure of having a dry ride back to camp leaves me forever in the debt of the intelligent person that chose to drive earlier in the day.
The evening back at camp was much quiet. We had a short congregation with our dear neighbours before bidding the nights end and climbing into bed.
Tuesday
Waking Tuesday was the saddest of days which I believe brought on the significance of my alcohol induced headache. With much dismay bags were packed and tents were pulled down to the ground. Waves exchanged with passing friends who we had met throughout the weekend. It was interesting that they would all return home to their lives ordinary or not. I helped pack up the remaining items, collect rubbish and say goodbyes to my weekend family. I swung my swag over my back and went in search of my lift. I arrived on site and they were also packed and ready for the highway. I took a deep breath loaded my luggage and climbed into the same chariot as the previous night.
The entertaining conversation was halted by a brief stop in town for food and drink before embarking on the mission to normality. As I took slow bites of my meal I wished it would take forever so I could harness the memories that I have shared with you here. We piled back in and placed sunglasses over our dreary eyes and left the bay, keeping it close to out heart and soul.
The roads thankfully weren’t busy and travel was brisk. A stop to check surfboards strapped to the roof, a stop for more food was all the came of the journey to home. The petrol light staying on for several kilometres kept interest in the trip, as calculations of time and litres till empty were roughly calculated, it was put forward that we were in no danger of breaking down.
The friendly friends dropped me home and I collected my belongings and bid a kind farewell. I turned, swung my swag for the last time and walked up my driveway. The short walk to the house was miserable. Not in a depressing way, but in a I wish good things never had to come to an end way. A quick grit of the teeth and the thought of a long shower, my own bed and not some old cut of canvas, made opening the door that little bit easier.
Too all the people I shared this experience with, I thankyou greatly and evermore.
Apologies to all who care to read, but I have been on holidays and forgot to give any notice.
The past week has been somewhat of an interesting, enjoyable and pleasant week full of tales and adventures with old and new friends. I began school holidays Thursday afternoon and my fun began.
Thursday
Woke up was rainy and for school we had school cross country. Faked out that I forgot my runners, so was then forced onto crowd control for the day in the pouring rain. Had to put on a smiling face for all the parents. They probably thought I was pretty charming. When the herd was released I went and had one beer with the social club before embarking on my weekend’s adventure.
As my car is a heaper I got picked up by a mate and went to Brisbane for the evening before planning to leave early for Byron Bay in the morning. In Brisbane has a few beers at the Brunswick Hotel with the locals for some karaoke. That evening we got free subway which was pretty sweet. With a few larger days ahead we took the option for some sleep and returned to the den.
Friday
On awakening, the skies had held off a little and I may or may not have cracked a morning beer. The scent of the adventure had filled my lungs and in a whisk it had all begun.
The journey was fun and we received a few waves from fellow adventures on their journey south. Their smiles were a memorable engagement of intent of the gratification that lay ahead.
Driving into the Bay brought back memories and thoughts of previous festivities. These memories mostly all good brought on a rye smile. We selected the car park at main beach. The collaboration of people already developing in front of my eyes was fulfilment to the moment. People sleeping in cars, showering in public, protesting for legalisation of weed and eating breakfast in cafes was a culmination of individuals who all had stories to tell. I took a moment to look around before going out for a surf.
After the surf sat on the rocks and consumed another beverage. Pleasantries are not meant to be taken for granted, moments are. And so after soaking up some UV and the vibe cruised onto the camp grounds.
It was at the camp ground the welcoming to the humble adobe was some familiar faces. I placed my swag under the large tarp to which I called home for the following days. A few bevies another trip to the beach where surprising ran into another school friend who was sunbaking on the beach. The surprises kept on arising. Little did I know that coming face to face with an old friend could turn out to be a valuable meeting.
After a short swim we returned to camp cleaned up and decided that it was time to enter the festival. With expectation of mud galore nothing could surprise us. Blue King Brown rarely fail to deliver a mood for dancing and fun. The day was great with a feed of Govindas and a few more bevies. As I did some individual adventuring I came across a band called ‘Tinawren’. To my surprise they were all dressed in turbans and were of middle eastern culture. Through their presence and the stereotypes that they broke down was something of and astonishment to myself and the awe of the crowd. The night came to a close and I somehow made it back to my swag under the tarp where I belted out a tune as I dozed into a delightful sleep. I believe before bed, Ian and I were up and had a Kung Fu battle. Not sure who won but I did probably try some sweet roundhouse snap kick.
Saturday
Waking to the sound of rain is a beautiful experience and that is exactly what happened I my peepers opened their eyes on Saturday morning. After some serious procrastination and arrival of more comrades a decision was made to go to Broken Head for a surf. Thus the chariots exited the grounds and onward we went. On arrival it was busy and wet. I with my ignorant intent pissed everyone off by puddle jumping neap people. They weren’t impressed. My surfboard was tossed into the bushes and I was chased and so stopped my annoying behaviour.
At Broken Head their happened to be a surfing competition on. The tide was high and the wind got up but we still ventured into the ocean. Crowded, small and a good vibe were enough to create satisfaction on the exodus of the ocean. We were also acquainted with another friend at the head.
Waiting to leave I consumed another beer and a tin of beans which I believed was the combination of kings. The drive in the rain back to camp was one of anticipation as the days proceedings were pondered and discussed. On the tip of out tongues were Ben Harper and his new band. After a quick feed, change of shoes we were off again on the bus of dreams to the festival. By the bus of dreams I am referring to the mad dudes the had an old school bus and just piled as many on as they could and took us to the festival.
On arrival the buzz of the booze and the sound of music congested my thoughts and the feelings of joy and content soothed through my body. The afternoon was enlightened by the extraordinaire Seasick Steve who took the stage with his cigar box and strings and proved that it doesn’t take and amazing guitar to create a beautiful sound. Govindas was eaten again and satisfaction was achieved. Anticipation had filled the fest as Harper loomed. Backed by and amazing band Ben banged out a good set highlighted by the David Bowie cover ‘Under Pressure’ which took the crowds breath away. As the night drew close and the crowd thinned out I departed the venue and made my way back to camp. On the way I met some interesting people by the name of Viv (who worked for anti-racism) and El and friends (who were just party animals). On arrival at camp I passed out and missed the party that went on under the tarp just next to me. Two Americans talking trash and the neighbours around I have no idea how I missed it all.
Sunday
I woke feeling a little worse for wear. Not terrible just a little shaky and well hung-over. We opted for a surf at main beach and was a fun little beach break. After being in the water for awhile the name of Seasick Steve wore off on me and I became a little green and went and laid on the beach. Post surf we stopped at woollies and with a bottle of Pellagrino and the prospect of bacon and eggs I knew that help was on its way.
The feed was satisfying and it was time for a few more drinks to begin the buzz for the day. After mucking around and finally getting out shit together to head to the festival we were off to catch the bus again. Fortune struck with Tom the Taxi driver outside the campsite. Tom was patient, erratic and careless. Perfect for a cab driver in a busy location and passengers with places to be. He kindly overloaded, didn’t care about the police and took as many shortcuts and backstreets as possible to make the ride full of gratitude with little grief. He even kindly dropped us as close as possible to the festival and saved my legs a few hundred metres. Sundays line-up was not to me missed with the like of PK and JBT taking the stage. The elated vibe began with JL and his slide guitar and every pleasing blues antics. BKB one again played a comfortable and bouncy set. I spent majority of the afternoon and evening in the massive tent; sweating, drinking and meeting new friends. Roxy and co were wonderful companions for moments between music.
Paul Kelly proved that good music never dies and with a grand old sing along everyone became best mates. His music did the talking and lead as a wonderful introduction for JBT. JB passion for the environment flowed through the air and the essence of his comments made me think. Think so much that I may have turned to a friend I was with (who is a town planner) and told her that it was her and her company that were F*&*&^# things up for all us. She didn’t seem to impressed by my remarks, but I am sure the bridge has been built and life goes on. Well I still believe they are. A hooray for the future. Passion is something that is often hard to pass onto others unless you truly live and breathe it, but JBT found a way to transpose it onto most.
On the exodus a friend and I had a bickering over what was the best solution to go home. My suggestion was to make the trip home short and sharp, while he believed waiting was the best. After a small altercation a compromise was made and it was settled that we get a kebab. Might I add it turned out to be a dam good kebab at that. Made at pure high speeds and exactly in time with the techno music blasting in the shop. Absorbing the kebab into my body was a feeling of bliss and ecstasy. The homeward bound journey continued in search of a shuttle to take the tired, restless and kebab wounded home.
Feeling rather still alive and joyess on arrival, it was instigated to climb into a large plastic storage container and use it as a bath. Snaps were taken, shower gel applied and I left the container a clean and new man. It is moments like those that you need to embrace and cherish. Clean, not cut and with some dirt still between my toes it was pass out time again.
Monday
Monday I awoke to a friend departing the humble surroundings and heading back to reality. Left on my pillow was the band I was to use to get into the festival for another day. Opting not to return I faced the risk of several hours bus and train to return to my humble home on the Tuesday. Risk assessment taken I farewelled my safety lifts and fellow travellers and took hold the day and music to come.
A kind friend cooked a breakfast suited for kings, queens, princes and princesses. Fed, weathered and raring to go, I was enlightened by an intelligent idea. Ask the old school friend I had bumped into at the beach for a lift back home. To great avail the deal was done and the offer accepted. Life can be grand most of the time.
Drinks began to flow and plans began to be made and off we all set for another day of eternal enjoyment. The enjoyment came to a rugged halt as traffic and the bus moved in a creep and a consensus vote was taken to exit the bus and walk. With a stop at the little boys room , followed by the bottleo for a tallie, the walk began. The walk was a good spirited experience with smiles being shot from all directions. Time seemed to shoot as in what seemed like minutes we arrived at the gates of love and mud.
Chivalry is back! Yes you have heard it here first. Well at least I think it is. On the stroll in through the chicken shoot I instantly gave into the slosh of dirt and water and stepped got the sneakers dirty. Only metre before the dry land I heard the scream of a young woman who was literally stuck in the mud. Without any thought I felt it was my duty to assist the lady. I ventured into the baron wasteland and offered my trusty back for a ride to higher ground. Her bewilderment came as a surprise as the old fashion piggy back was put back into action. The short trudge was interesting as names were exchanged a kiss on my neck and I was even informed of her height, she above average in height. Without waiting for any thankyous I placed her thongs in position and continued on my way. I hope she has a nice day.
As the rain continued to poor and the puddles began to rise it was evident that it was time to embrace the poncho rather than fight it. Dressed head to toe in my green poncho it was off to check out the musical diversity for the day. We had become acquainted with a German girl who was absolutely mad. She was a fun lass with plenty of joke and humour to share. We shared the experience of X Rudd who offered a culturing enriching perspective on the respect of people and plants, a message which is often forgotten in the busy corporate world. After stitches of laughter, some at the expense at others ignorance, I departed the lass and company and joined a new team.
The new team and I ventured through the battles that mother nature was hurling and came to the conclusion that food was needed. In the safety of a large tent, much grub was divulged from a variety of origins. Interesting at this time was a young Asian boy who had little to no fear of older humans. His confidence surpassed his size and he moved around the food pavilion attracting and drawing attention fr0m all the groups he could find. His relaxed parents looked on as the social butterfly flittered and floated his way around.
A decision was made to progress on into the evening and join up with some other fellow friends. They had found shelter under another tent and seemed content to see what was to unfold. We waited with them until it was time to see BH again and we moved into the dense and intensifying crowd. Playing a similar set which I believed was musical satisfaction, was not seen as the same view as all punters. The edges of the tent began to thin as the songs drew on. Sliders in the mud took some of the attention as they splurged in the soggy soil.
Leaving the festival for the last time, with ears lingering of blues we thought it be intelligent to follow the exit sign. Knowing it was not the normal exit it was agreed that it should all lead to the same spot. Little did we know we would end up in a sea of sludge with a broken umbrella and only our humorous perspective to get us through. Cars bogged, skies open and people tripping was enough to satisfy the adventure of the walk. With lights on the horizon as out destination we put one foot in front of each other to reach the chariot (Honda CRV). The pleasure of having a dry ride back to camp leaves me forever in the debt of the intelligent person that chose to drive earlier in the day.
The evening back at camp was much quiet. We had a short congregation with our dear neighbours before bidding the nights end and climbing into bed.
Tuesday
Waking Tuesday was the saddest of days which I believe brought on the significance of my alcohol induced headache. With much dismay bags were packed and tents were pulled down to the ground. Waves exchanged with passing friends who we had met throughout the weekend. It was interesting that they would all return home to their lives ordinary or not. I helped pack up the remaining items, collect rubbish and say goodbyes to my weekend family. I swung my swag over my back and went in search of my lift. I arrived on site and they were also packed and ready for the highway. I took a deep breath loaded my luggage and climbed into the same chariot as the previous night.
The entertaining conversation was halted by a brief stop in town for food and drink before embarking on the mission to normality. As I took slow bites of my meal I wished it would take forever so I could harness the memories that I have shared with you here. We piled back in and placed sunglasses over our dreary eyes and left the bay, keeping it close to out heart and soul.
The roads thankfully weren’t busy and travel was brisk. A stop to check surfboards strapped to the roof, a stop for more food was all the came of the journey to home. The petrol light staying on for several kilometres kept interest in the trip, as calculations of time and litres till empty were roughly calculated, it was put forward that we were in no danger of breaking down.
The friendly friends dropped me home and I collected my belongings and bid a kind farewell. I turned, swung my swag for the last time and walked up my driveway. The short walk to the house was miserable. Not in a depressing way, but in a I wish good things never had to come to an end way. A quick grit of the teeth and the thought of a long shower, my own bed and not some old cut of canvas, made opening the door that little bit easier.
Too all the people I shared this experience with, I thankyou greatly and evermore.
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
There aint no sunshine....
I did not realise there so many verses and versions. Did you?
To tell you the truth I am a little over the rain and so are my students and vegetable garden.
To tell you the truth I am a little over the rain and so are my students and vegetable garden.
Original
- Rain rain go away,
- Come again another day.
- Little Brian wants to play;
- Rain, rain, go to Spain,
- Never show your face again!
There are several longer versions, the most common of which is:
- Rain, rain, go away,
- Come again another day.
- Rain, rain, go away.
- Come again some other day.
- Little Arthur wants to play,
- In the meadow by the hay.
- Rain, rain, go to Spain,
- Never show your face again.
- Rain, rain, pour down,
- But not a drop on our town.
- Rain on the green grass,
- and rain on the tree,
- And rain on the housetop,
- but not on me.
- Rain, rain, go away,
- Come again on washing day.
- Rain, rain, go to Germany,
- And remain there permanently.
- Rain, rain, go away,
- Come on Martha's wedding day.
Additional Verses:
- Rain, rain, go away,
- Come again another day,
- If you don't, I will say,
- Rain, rain go away.
- Rain, rain, go away,
- Come again some other day,
- We want to go outside and play,
- Come again some other day.
- Rain, rain, go away,
- Come again some other day,
- If you don't, I don't care,
- I'll pull down your underwear!
Additional Verses:
- Rain, rain, go away,
- Come again another day,
- Annais and her friends want to play,
- Come again some other day
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Forward or Back
Today, the naivety of the world was clearly shown by a comment made by a grade 7 student. The child was screaming ‘Free Tibet’ at inappropriate times throughout my lesson.
I then asked the student if he knew where Tibet was. He has no idea and couldn’t even tell me what continent it was on. I found this quite appalling and somewhat frustrating. When I told him to look at the atlas to find Tibet, he asked if he could look at it online. As much as the internet is a valuable pastime, tool and resource, how heavily it is depended it a developing nightmare. What will they believe?
It raises many questions, where to from here?
I then asked the student if he knew where Tibet was. He has no idea and couldn’t even tell me what continent it was on. I found this quite appalling and somewhat frustrating. When I told him to look at the atlas to find Tibet, he asked if he could look at it online. As much as the internet is a valuable pastime, tool and resource, how heavily it is depended it a developing nightmare. What will they believe?
It raises many questions, where to from here?
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