Twenty one years ago today you burst into the world and made your presence known. I have to say it was one of the best days of my life and way back then I made up this rhyme for you.
Isabella, Isabella, Isabella Rose,
Tiny little fingers
Tiny little nose.
Big brown eyes
and a little button nose
Isabella, Isabella, Isabella Rose.
Happy Birthday from Ruth and I, just thinking about you makes us smile.
Wednesday 25 June 2014
Sunday 22 June 2014
Toby Farrier Excerpt
This is one of the pieces in Toby Farrier I enjoyed writing, it is about halfway into the story and Tracy is confronting her guilt about sending Toby away.
Tracy put a finger to
his lips. ‘You know John Evans came to see me and Darren tonight and he let me
in on what happened just before I dumped all this on you at the hospital. Only
then, did I learn how much stuff you’ve had going on, and I think I’ve been a
bit unfair. For too long Darren and I have tried to put what we did to one side,
not think of how we failed you and we didn’t know how much we need your
forgiveness.’ Tracy felt her tears stream down her cheeks. ‘Everyone sees me as
this hardnosed business woman without feelings, yet every day the little girl
inside me wants to hide until a good fairy comes along and makes everything
right.’ She dug around in her bag and produced a tattered long haul driver’s
log book. ‘This is your dad’s. From the day you left he folded the pages a
different way. Most truckies fold forward but your dad folded them back. You
might wonder why, but I think you’ll find the answer in there somewhere. I know
I did.’ She passed it to him. ‘You know, Sarah, John’s sister, your Mum
Shellie, and me we were all mates, right through school. When Michelle
contracted breast cancer that was the just the pits and we all cried for days.
When we found out she was having you, she was over the moon until they told her
the therapy would harm your chance of survival. Our friend told them she would
go full term and then have the treatment. She was so brave, Toby and so strong
willed, we couldn’t talk her out of it. Maybe you remember the perfume because
she wore it too, we all did. She gave it to us for being her bridesmaids.’
Toby picked up a box of
tissues and passed them to his stepmother.
‘You should hate us for
what we did and yet here you are passing me bloody tissues.’
‘Pop taught me that
holding a grudge is hard work and I reckon he’s right.’ Toby turned away, he
didn’t need tears and if he looked at Tracy he knew they would have the box
empty in a minute. ‘I was angry, and my moods made me quite a handful for a
long time, but he never pressured me. Sure I had to go to a new school, but nobody
there knew how bad I was and some of the kids who were there, were worse. I
soon saw that I was lucky to have someone who loved me unconditionally. I
couldn’t say it like this at the time, but I knew what I wanted to say, I just
couldn’t make out the words. When I looked at what the teachers wrote on the
boards to me it looked like alphabet soup, letters everywhere. Old Charlie got
me sorted. He told Pop he’d heard someone talking about ADHD and disruptive
kids on the radio. One appointment, a couple of hours of watching Shrek and we
walked out with a prescription for new glasses and in a few days I could see
how the letters formed words and even numbers made sense.’
‘Clever old you, eh?’
Tracy tried to hide her guilt by attempting to laugh. ‘There was so much
bitterness between Darren and his Dad, what could we do?’
‘Yeah.’
Les Gillespies Gold: Exerpt - Chapter 15
I'm back to writing Les Gillespies Gold again and thought I would share this exerpt, which I had a lot of fun writing. As with everything, it may not make it into the final draft of the story, but it felt good to write such an exchange. Let me know what you think.
Emily had squeezed between him and the table cuddling into him for warmth.
‘Good morning little one, why are you out of bed?’ Tilly had asked if she could stay with Joe and Laura overnight.
‘Couldn’t sleep.’
‘Hungry?’
Emily shook her head and stared at the changing sky. ‘Pop, you know how Mum and Jeff are getting married.’
‘Yep.’ Joe said. ‘Why, don’t you want them too?’
‘It’s not that. I like Jeff, but do I have to call him Dad?’
‘Not if you don’t you want too?’Joe wondered how Emily would take the changes. He would sooner have Tilly and Jeff answer these questions, but he loved that his granddaughter could come to him for counsel. ‘What do you want to call him?’
‘Jeff, it will seem funny to call him, Dad now, but he’ll be like a dad, won’t he? I just want to call him, Jeff, like before, that’s all.’
‘I think he’ll be fine with that too.’
‘And do you think Mum will love him more than me?’
‘Hmm, what do you think?’
‘Well, I don’t think she will stop loving me, maybe she will love us the same, but different. You know, she will love him grown up ways.’
‘Yep, that’s what I would have said. You are one smart young lady.’
‘I heard Mum tell Jeff, that if you said he couldn’t marry her, to tell you, it’s a shottie. What does that mean?’ Emily screwed her face around, trying to squeeze the same inflection her mother put into the word she didn’t understand.
Joe struggled to hold his composure, Emily was serious and these were questions, he’d rather not answer. What would she ask next?
‘How about some pancakes with whipped butter and maple syrup?’ Joe said.
‘I don’t think so, not yet anyway.’ She snuggled in, shivered, and dragged his flannel shirt around her. ‘If mum has a baby, then it will be theirs won’t it, hers and Jeff’s. Do you think they will love it more than me?’
‘How could anybody love anyone, more than your Mum loves you? You should have seen her the day you came into the world, a little wrinkled up red bundle of arms and legs. She had a bit of trouble and was in a lot of pain, but the moment you arrived she was complete. Her world was right again, but you, Emily Beatrice Gillespie, you screamed the hospital down.’
‘Did I, did I cry a lot?’
‘Cry... I think they heard you in the next town. You were louder than that old rooster over there. The hospital told us you had the strongest set of lungs they’d ever heard.’ He placed a hand on her tummy and tickled her. She writhed and giggled in time to his touch. ‘You settled down once you had a feed, but boy that day was special. And well, you let everyone know you had arrived.’
She loved his storytelling, and he knew a flood of questions would burst from inside her. ‘Was I quiet from then on?’
‘Only until you started to talk and we haven’t been able to shut you up since. Just like now questions, questions, questions.’ He turned away. ‘Look, if they do decide to have a baby, and who’s to say they will. I reckon there will be more love in your house, than in any other place in town, in the State, or even the whole of Australia maybe. Things’ll be fine. Do you reckon you can love Jeff too? What do you think?’
‘Yep, if he doesn’t make Mum sad.’
‘Do you think he will?’
‘Sometimes she’s cross with him.’
‘Sometimes she’s cross with you too, and sometimes Granny’s cross with me. In the end though, it’s only a little thing and the love is bigger than that. You’ll see, we’ll all be fine.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yep, as sure as I am that I make better pancakes than Jeff Rankin.’ Joe cuddled her; his big arms covered her tiny frame. ‘Let’s eat. You can get the butter and syrup out of the fridge.’
‘Pop?’ Emily put the margarine on the table.
‘Yep’
‘What’s Chanel No5?’
‘Why?’
‘Before we left the pub, they were whispering, and I heard Mum ask Jeff what pyjamas she should wear. And he said Chanel No5.’
‘Come on, I’ll need some help with the batter.’ Joe said. ‘That’s a question for your grandmother.’
Emily had squeezed between him and the table cuddling into him for warmth.
‘Good morning little one, why are you out of bed?’ Tilly had asked if she could stay with Joe and Laura overnight.
‘Couldn’t sleep.’
‘Hungry?’
Emily shook her head and stared at the changing sky. ‘Pop, you know how Mum and Jeff are getting married.’
‘Yep.’ Joe said. ‘Why, don’t you want them too?’
‘It’s not that. I like Jeff, but do I have to call him Dad?’
‘Not if you don’t you want too?’Joe wondered how Emily would take the changes. He would sooner have Tilly and Jeff answer these questions, but he loved that his granddaughter could come to him for counsel. ‘What do you want to call him?’
‘Jeff, it will seem funny to call him, Dad now, but he’ll be like a dad, won’t he? I just want to call him, Jeff, like before, that’s all.’
‘I think he’ll be fine with that too.’
‘And do you think Mum will love him more than me?’
‘Hmm, what do you think?’
‘Well, I don’t think she will stop loving me, maybe she will love us the same, but different. You know, she will love him grown up ways.’
‘Yep, that’s what I would have said. You are one smart young lady.’
‘I heard Mum tell Jeff, that if you said he couldn’t marry her, to tell you, it’s a shottie. What does that mean?’ Emily screwed her face around, trying to squeeze the same inflection her mother put into the word she didn’t understand.
Joe struggled to hold his composure, Emily was serious and these were questions, he’d rather not answer. What would she ask next?
‘How about some pancakes with whipped butter and maple syrup?’ Joe said.
‘I don’t think so, not yet anyway.’ She snuggled in, shivered, and dragged his flannel shirt around her. ‘If mum has a baby, then it will be theirs won’t it, hers and Jeff’s. Do you think they will love it more than me?’
‘How could anybody love anyone, more than your Mum loves you? You should have seen her the day you came into the world, a little wrinkled up red bundle of arms and legs. She had a bit of trouble and was in a lot of pain, but the moment you arrived she was complete. Her world was right again, but you, Emily Beatrice Gillespie, you screamed the hospital down.’
‘Did I, did I cry a lot?’
‘Cry... I think they heard you in the next town. You were louder than that old rooster over there. The hospital told us you had the strongest set of lungs they’d ever heard.’ He placed a hand on her tummy and tickled her. She writhed and giggled in time to his touch. ‘You settled down once you had a feed, but boy that day was special. And well, you let everyone know you had arrived.’
She loved his storytelling, and he knew a flood of questions would burst from inside her. ‘Was I quiet from then on?’
‘Only until you started to talk and we haven’t been able to shut you up since. Just like now questions, questions, questions.’ He turned away. ‘Look, if they do decide to have a baby, and who’s to say they will. I reckon there will be more love in your house, than in any other place in town, in the State, or even the whole of Australia maybe. Things’ll be fine. Do you reckon you can love Jeff too? What do you think?’
‘Yep, if he doesn’t make Mum sad.’
‘Do you think he will?’
‘Sometimes she’s cross with him.’
‘Sometimes she’s cross with you too, and sometimes Granny’s cross with me. In the end though, it’s only a little thing and the love is bigger than that. You’ll see, we’ll all be fine.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yep, as sure as I am that I make better pancakes than Jeff Rankin.’ Joe cuddled her; his big arms covered her tiny frame. ‘Let’s eat. You can get the butter and syrup out of the fridge.’
‘Pop?’ Emily put the margarine on the table.
‘Yep’
‘What’s Chanel No5?’
‘Why?’
‘Before we left the pub, they were whispering, and I heard Mum ask Jeff what pyjamas she should wear. And he said Chanel No5.’
‘Come on, I’ll need some help with the batter.’ Joe said. ‘That’s a question for your grandmother.’
Friday 20 June 2014
JENNY: First draft of a song lyric.
Jenny’ staring at the
pavement
Of the Grand Paradise
Hotel
Where police tape
flickers
before the morning
breeze
And she’s lost in the
bloodstain
Left where the victim
fell
Second night of a two
week honeymoon
They spent the day in
bed
And food came to their
room
Making love all
through the morning
She thrilled with his
inner movements
And glowed there in
his spoon
Dinner at the
restaurant
of the Grand Paradise
Hotel
Then dancing in the
ballroom
With the man she knew
so well
The music pumped the
pulsing light
And the world could
go to hell.
Now she’s staring at
the pavement
Of the Grand Paradise
Hotel
And wondering about
the pill
Wondered why he
thought he needed it
Was it just another
thrill
The dealer was the
devil
And he pushed a
little hard
Toby palmed two
hundred
You can’t put that on
card
They danced until the
small hours
They made it quite a
night
Then in the elevator
He held her really
tight
She kissed him in the
lift
He caressed her in
the hall
And when he laid her
on their bed
She offered him her
all
Them somewhere
between
The darkness and the
light
He swallowed what the
dealer sold him
And believed he could
take flight.
Now Jenny’s staring
at the pavement
Outside the Grand
Paradise Hotel
She’s staring at the
bloodstain
Where her Toby fell
The dealer was the
devil
And he pushed a
little hard
Toby palmed two
hundred
You can’t put that on
card
Now Jenny’s staring
at the pavement
Monday 9 June 2014
Toby Farrier - Update.
I have been going over the draft of my first manuscript and fixing many of the punctuation and plot errors before I look at attempting a structural edit. I should have this second draft completed by the end of the week and I am looking fro five volunteers to offer an opinion on the story.
I have aimed the story at the same age group who read Harry Potter. This is a contemporary story set in modern Melbourne. Middle school kids are on a quest to unravel the mysteries hidden in documents Toby has found in an old desk. An evil professor stands between them and the key to the mystery. Will Toby and his friends prevail, or will the evil professor toss them into the lost underground strongroom.
If you are interested please leave me a message or comment. Thank you.
I have aimed the story at the same age group who read Harry Potter. This is a contemporary story set in modern Melbourne. Middle school kids are on a quest to unravel the mysteries hidden in documents Toby has found in an old desk. An evil professor stands between them and the key to the mystery. Will Toby and his friends prevail, or will the evil professor toss them into the lost underground strongroom.
If you are interested please leave me a message or comment. Thank you.
Thursday 5 June 2014
Fascio Scapulo Humeral Muscular Dystrophy
F.S.H.D.
I have a little illness
And it knocks me about you see
I find it just a bit harder now
That I have this F.S.H.D.
Four little letters to tell me
why
My shoulders droop
My calves are sore
And my smile is all awry
Purse you lips she said to me
And I tried the best I could
Now can you whistle
I puffed my cheeks
And pursed my lips
And blew quite hard you see
There you go your symptoms show
You have F.S.H.M.D.
A diagnosis I had at last
But, it sounded like a whistle
to me
I love the sound those letters
make
And I often wonder why
Of this grand lottery that I
would win
When cash seems to me a better
prize
My legs feel like lead all day
My neck and shoulders too
It took a while to diagnose
It grinds away my energy
And saps at my strength too
It’s fair to say that F.S.H.M.D.
Is not a gift I’d want for you.
Today you’ll see me leaning on
a stick
Soon a walker for my need
And then a chair with two big
wheels
Cause I’ll need them for speed
Till then I have to some things
to say
While my mind’s still strong
I’ll share with you a story or
a song
I have a little illness
And it knocks me about you see
I find it just a bit harder now
That I have this F.S.H.M.D.
https://www.facebook.com/musculardystrophyUK/videos/10153835179423692/
https://www.facebook.com/musculardystrophyUK/videos/10153835179423692/
WHAT A MESS
What a mess I’ve made of life
Gone my home, my kids, my wife
At twenty three I found the booze
So much to win I could not lose
Came the cards and pokies too
I put an end to me and you
Oh what a mess I’ve made of life
No house no car no loving wife
My kids they have no time for me
I stand here now, old at forty three
I know that I could lick the booze
There is nothing left for me to lose
Banned from clubs for counting cards
I ache to here our children in the yard
Oh what a mess I’ve made of life
No home no kids no loving wife
I wander to my squat alone
Nobody here to share my home
I brought this sadness down on me
A foolish man who would not see
The damage selfish acts would do
It brought an end to me and you
Oh what a mess I’ve made of life
No hope no home no loving wife.
Minnie
Andy has a picture,
right there on her phone
A dog sits in a
pusher, with her muzzle going grey
And in the morning
sun it warms her
She wriggles round
and wants the pain to go away
Minnie has a bit of
trouble; it’s arthritis in her hip
So Pop and Nan her owners,
spent ten dollars
And got a pusher from
the tip
Now when they go
walking, Minnie’s riding up the front
She’s looking at the
traffic watching people in their cars
And town kids stop to
pat her and their mothers like to chat
Minnie she just sits
there, like she’s waiting for the stars
Sometimes when she’s
sleeping she’ll bark
Chasing rabbits in
her dream, working sheep or moving cattle
Down the paddock
cross the road and through the stream
Pop drops down his
hand, and rubs her head
They watch a bit of
footy, and he takes her out to bed
She’s been a close
companion right down through her years
Listened to their
troubles listened to their fears.
Minnie has a bit of
strife now; it’s arthritis in her hip
So Rod and Gwen her
owners, spent ten dollars
And bought her a pusher from
the Swan Hill tip
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)