Crazyville

Another crazy week in a crazy world; or perhaps I should say, another week, another student complaint. So over students’ total self centred sense of entitlement at the cost of others. Many mothers on my stick list for making their kids so co-dependent and pathetic. Teachers are people too!

We farewelled our senior class on Friday. I was particularly fond of my home class’s group of seniorsand will miss them. One came in with her Mum before the ceremony to give me a gift and it was a tough moment. I want so much for that young lady – happiness and success and oh, everything.

It was a 38C day as we piled into an undercover area for the ceremony. Adolescent boys are smelly things at the best of times, but third day of heat in a row and the area was ripe. I always take my folding paper fan with me and this day it was used more to waft the aroma away, than to cool. At times the fanning was frantic! I don’t want to smell your sweaty hair.

Mr FD has to stay a third week with his Uncle on the Farm, who like too many old people will not cooperate when the family are trying to source support for them. Everyone is working to keep him in his own home; which is not easy when he is on a farm and a distance from services, and to maintain his dignity, but the damn fool won’t cooperate and he is aided and abetted by some very self-seeking people. Mr FD’s sister has arrived to assist now.

Missing his dog and his own home, I sent Mr FD a couple of photos to remember us by.

View from our front door

View from our front door

 

The one and only Augie Dog

The one and only Augie Dog

And of course…

His wife.....hahhahahahahahaha

His wife…..hahhahahahahahaha

HIs dog wrecked my night’s sleep. He woke me about three a.m. whining, so I took him out to his patch, but I think he just wanted to chase cane toads. When we went back to bed he was agitated and it was only after I sat on the side of the bed and stroked his head for awhile that he calmed down. I went back to sleep, but I don’t know what Augie did. He may have whined, he may have partied, he may have thought deep and meaningful thoughts, but he left me alone until 8am.

When I stirred from my nightmare, and it was nightmare for the Deputy Principal was in my dream, I had a headache. We were in my parents’ house and I had about 30 naughty students with me who needed to be sent to RTC but the DP was telling me how peaceful my parents’s house was, despite my protestations that we had sold my parents home. We all know that he would cut his tongue out before saying the word “peaceful” so it was total terror. Who is this monster I am with?

Today is predicted to be 39C. Yesterday was 38C. The breeze feels like a furnace. My school office is air conditioned, but not the library so it is miserable the moment I walk through my office door. Our house has many levels of cooling so I am ensconced for the day. Hand me my “orange juice” Jeeves.

On the positive side, I have been offered an interview for the TL job 9 minutes from home! Monday 4pm QLD time, so have power thoughts for me . You work out the time difference and if it is in the middle of the night your time I expect you to rise, walk to your window and face Australia. No, that is not the floor, you are down under, not us. You are behind us, unless you are a New Zealander and we won’t make the NZ  joke that is begging to be made there

10 school days until Summer Vacation! Minerva made me a little calendar to count the days, The Big Whatever Bless Her Soul. That woman can read my soul, and she guessed I had applied for another job. If I do go, she is the real regret I will have leaving that library. We are peas in a pod, but she is a better person than I. I guess, we shall see what we shall see.

 

My cathedral

In need of restoration from the work week, I stood on our patio and soaked in the elements of a private cathedral, our garden. Filled with scents, colours and bird song, it is more religion to me than any man made structure of bricks and mortar, or declaration of man.

Augie Dog by my side, relaxed under the influence of our garden, sank,  stretching out, as the magic of nature entwined us. Restored us.

Saturday morning, the rains have come. Mr FD is away, caring for his old Uncle who can no longer be left alone, and yet will not accept help. I feel sorry for Uncle, who is suffering the loss of his life to dementia, but also for Mr FD who has to deal with resistant, anger and denial every minute he is trying to assist Uncle.

Another tough week. School is more like a war zone these days. Students kick holes in walls, and another of our couches has been cut. Teachers with decades of experience working with children have declared this present cohort of students, particularly the years 7 and 8, as some of the most destructive and ill-behaved of their careers. Not a proud branding.

New gardens were constructed to soften and beautify the grounds and just days into the plantings, students are not only crashing through the gardens, but actively pulling the plants out. Why would they even bother? What unruly anger is within these young people? Such self centred, disrespect.

Parents who do not respect, are growing children who do not respect. Then add the ingredient of the influence of social media and young people feeling the pressure to out perform, one up, to achieve constant attention. Self absorbed is their middle name. Mobile phones in school are weapons of destruction.

My personal battle was added to this week. A male student who was asked not to enter the library as we had no space left and as he had stated he didn’t need to use the library for study or assessment, he merely wanted to “chill out”. Within minutes he was on the mobile phone to his mother declaring he was barred from the Library. Returning from class I was informed Mummy had rang to complain. Of course her precious son had told the truth!

Mothers, do not enter into every issue your child has. Let them own their own behaviour, suffer their own consequences and learn resilience. The energy that these selfish student mistruths suck from teachers, means that students who have real issues, urgent needs, sometimes life and death issues, have to wait longer for assistance. Remember the mantra, “Don’t sweat the small stuff?” Well, apply it to your children and let us do our real jobs. Do your job as parent.

Then maybe I can enjoy my cathedral for its beauty and no just for its healing.

The Accidental Twitcher

A day is not complete for Mr Fd without checking on the many birds nesting in our garden. Parrots, rosellas, lorikeets, tawny frogmouths, cockatoos, magpies and even minors are all hatching on our grounds.

A little disappointingly, the easiest nest to see is the minor birds’ nest. Mama and Papa have three chicks, who have grown rather efficiently into fledglings before our gaze. Too big for the nest, they have now been moved to a nearby tree for safety. Not before we managed to get a photograph of them, though.

Birdie in the nest

They are well hidden amongst the beaches and leaves, but the continual chirping for food and attention gives them away immediately. From our guest bedroom, we can watch them from the comfort of the bed! Now that’s the way to twitch!

Luckily, it has rained in the last couple of days and the trees aren’t quite as stressed. It won’t last for long. Hopefully the birds will linger longer

 

Flamingo Dancer’s ark or why did the wallaby cross the drive?

noahs ark

I was a little late for work because I took my morning mug of tea stand by the garden windows and watch a pair of wallabies eating our lawn.

The area where our grey water seeps out under the lawn is extremely green. I imagine the grass has fresh and succulent shoots. Mr FD saw a wallaby standing to attention and then start to graze on the grass. Shortly afterwards, it was joined by another wallaby, slightly darker in colour. I had the suspicion that the first wallaby may have had a joey in its pouch.

We stood watching silently, afraid to even move inside our own home, in case we frightened them away, but eventually they hopped across our drive and onto the boundary with the neighbours property (no fences).

Our home is starting to feel like Noah’s ark with all our breeding bird and animal pairs. Thank heavens Mr FD and I are beyond the breeding stage, or the country air might have caused us to cast an eye at each other too. Horrors! Perhaps I had better lock Son in his room until Spring has passed!

As I was reversing out of the garage to go down the drive, I noticed the wallabies hop back onto our drive, so I stopped and waited. They were joined by a third wallaby, jumped together back onto the lawn and waited as I moved my car very slowly forward. One, two, three hops and they bounded into the treed area on the far side of the garden and hid amongst the trees and shrubs, leaving me to drive forward without fear of taking out an animal.

Maybe we need a wallaby crossing sign for our driveway!

wallaby zone

 

Not quite, Dog Crosses Road.

 

Darcy Doyle

One aspect of living in a rural area is the sense of community that has been created over time; or as Mr FD like to tease me as I was originally a country girl, generations of inbreeding. My mother declares to this day, demented or not, that she and Dad were not related – well, not closely anyway.

People get to know people. Your electrician is my electrician, that sort of thing.

We have a little community magazine, that started life as a weekly paper eons ago, but is now just a little 6 or 8 page magazine filled with local news, photos of garden show participants and the largest vegetable at the local competition. It is like sitting on the deck with an old friend to share a gossip. Important stuff.

This week’s main article was breath taking however. Memorable.

It seems that a local business had need of the help of the local electrician. He assisted working through the night to restore their power. Job completed Sparky locked up, went home and then onto another job. Business owners returned next morning only to discover they needed Sparky’s help again. But alas, he had gone to another job!

The word from his wife was that the route might take him down the main street and right by the business. So ever the need, the Owner wrote a sign with the words “Dan call in!” and plants it on the footpath. Dan being Sparky’s real name – sorry if you thought he was really called Sparky.

Now it gets hilarious here…

Turns out Owner has an employee named Dan who was having the day off. Someone saw the sign and told Day off Dan he was needed at work. So Day off Day gets dressed in his work clothes and presents himself. What a hoot, the wrong Dan!

Yes, that is the kind of community we live in now. The simplicity is just wonderful – quarter page article and photo of the sign complete.

worms

Don’t spoil my day by asking why they didn’t phone Dan on his mobile. Let me live in my Norman Rockwell fantasy a few minutes longer.

 

if you cross a wallaby with a hare what do you get?

 

Serenity.

 

Wallaby-largeThe wildlife count today:

A stand of wallabies just over our boundary fence as I drove out, and a hare in the garden upon my return.

hare

I am starting to feel as though I am living with an Australian version of a Beatrix Potter tale. Perhaps I should start calling Mr FD, Farmer McGregor?

 

front page news: The Village explodes into deviant behaviour!

Australian Wood Ducks

Tragedy was averted in the Village today. Flamingo Dancer, exiting her drive in her white, hybrid Honda Civic, was forced to give way to a team of ducks who had, “without warning” decided to cross the road.

“Thank heavens I was driving below the speed limit,” commented Flamingo Dancer, still recovering from the near miss. “Otherwise, it may have been duck for dinner tonight!”

 

In the main street, three chickens pecked their way though town.

chickens three

Flamingo Dancer, who only minutes before had survived a near duck tragedy, was seen to slow her vehicle considerably, but thankfully the hens remained on the green space.

The bird disturbance was not yet calmed, for returning home and halting her journey to check the mailbox, Flamingo Dancer disturbed a flock of  Rainbow Lorikeets in the trees fronting the Flamingo Dancer property.

The Rainbow Lorikeet 2

The Rainbow Lorikeet

“Oh my,” Flamingo Dancer was overhead muttering, “I thought life in the city was chaotic, but The Village is bordering on feathered bedlam!”