Dear missep123~

Thank you for that lovely memory of such an impulsive act, made better by being with someone you care for.

I'm not that impulsive a character (what walrus is?) but do remember one occasion when with my future wife we decided out of the blue to drive up a mountain. When we neared the top there was a little stream coming out of the rocks.

My future wife said,"If you drink from that stream you will always come back".

I did and I did.

With your journal perhaps making it appealing to read - without of course leaving significant things out - will make it an easier tool for you to use when searching back though it.

Croix

Lying on the lawn outside Qld Griffith Uni Conservatorium, with my back pack for a pillow, listening to cool jazz flowing all through me, like a breeze from a garden of complex fragrance.

Rhythms to feel, melodies to follow, a dozen or more players and instruments in collaboration, having a conversation, sharing ideas, bouncing off each other.

Chatter, laughter, applause.

The sun warm like chicken soup.

it all felt nourishing, even the chips.

Dear mmMekitty and all~

That reminds me of my first bout of uni - which was a very very long time ago. Amongst other things I studied Drama - though my acting ability was zero - and had a lovely time. it was a built in excuse to see all the local plays in Sydney at the time, everything from "The One Day of the Year" to "Waiting for Godot".

Now I live in a small rural town it ain't quite the same, though the memories are just fine.

Croix

Might be interesting to see how Waiting for Godot goes over in your small rural town? You could hold auditions and be the Director...let me know.

Dear Moon~

Nice to hear from you, I hope all is well and you are not too downcast by the deficiencies of politics.Are you managing an interesting social/bowling life despite it all or do you have restrictions like so many?

As for that play, I'm afraid I'd have to re-title it "Waiting for John Deere parts" and do a pretty extensive rewrite to boot.Grand finale with repaired tractor driven triumphantly off stage by (V)Lad and his GF Est(r)a.

Bozzo and Lucky could win the six-pak prize in the intermission raffle.

Of course you would have to come down to make sense of it all and be producer/director. With your experience you could 'bowl over' any objections.

I look forward to the day

Croix

Anything's possible Croix. Love your alternative script...hilarious! The thing is...I've often wondered with various TV comedies etc that are so well acted as they "send up" certain groups in society....do those who are the ones being "sent up" actually realise they are being sent up? Or just laugh along without realising they are the butt of the jokes?

I believe one of O.W's most famous was actually a send up of high society back in the day....a group of us were debating whether they in the audience would have realised it was themselves they were laughing at?

This talk of dramas and plays, reminds me I had taken part in a little Theatre group for kids, and I could not take it seriously. We did one play, miming throughout, and I was to mime giving one of my Xmas prezzies to a neighbour, who, for some reason I can't recall, had none.

I wispered, "it's a bomb", and got the giggles.

*

Sam was a brash sort of Cocker Spaniel, filled with bouncy energy. He did not actually live the family home, but with a rellie, let's say.

Also my father built our cement swimming pool, drain and filter, painted 'pool blue' too.

One day, Sam's owner dives in and Sam, dives directly onto his back.

*

In the summer, at night, and the flood light was on, it was great just bobbing around the pool. I would have enjoyed it more with the light off.

*

Playing with the dogs. Balls, Frisby, tug-a-war with a stick.

*

Down the back, almost to the river, there was a large tree, with a wide branch which was almost at a right angle to the trunk, which I could sit astride and just take in the forest-like surroundings. Very peaceful.

*

& we had a big Mulberry Tree. I was forbidden to climb as high as my siibs, but, when I could get away with it, I did. I never fell.

We must have eaten half of what we picked before coming back to the house. Our hands and faces would be bright as beetroot pink with Mulberry juice. The Mulberries we brought back would go into 4L ice cream containers and frozen.

Recently I heard someone has turned frozen Mulberries into a commercial business. I wish I knew where to get some. I would really rather have a Mulberry Tree, but, that is not going to happen here, so if I could get some...I wonder why Mulberries are not as readily available as other berries?

*

I shall return!

🍇(near enough) in mouth.

Dear mmMekitty~

I guess the prosaic answer to your question is mulberrys take around 10 years to yield fruit, others like blueberries might only take two. It's a long term investment.

I too remember a mulberry tree and being in trouble as the stain - as you would know - is not good for school uniforms. At the time this was not a pleasant experience! Looking back now I know it was worth it:)

A kid's way of "stopping to smell the roses" I guess

Croix

Dear Moon~

I'm glad you like my rural verion of hteater of hte absurd.

Sorry Moon, the message posted itself mid-writing, dunno why.

I was trying to say the only way to make theater of the absurd palatable I could see was to 'rualify' it, I'm glad you liked the end up result.

"Sound of Music", or even Gilbert and Sulivan's " Mikado" is more to local taste. Mind you at one stage thay had a run of dinner music hall performances, which I enjoyed, and am sorry they stopped.

You know what I mean:

"The Amusing Application of Allusive Alliteration used with Pointed
Pungent Perspicacity in a Thrilling Threnody of Rapturous Rippling
Rambunctiousness?

And now for your delectation ..."

followed by a variety of acts, each introduced in a basilar inimitable manner.

As for your more serious question, be it Kath and Kim or OW, I guess the reaction will always be mixed. It will go over some heads, others who are more human will appreciate it and even adopt some of the sayings ("Look at me!")

Unfortunatly there will be a remainder that in OW's time would have regarded him as an impertinent bounder, and nowadays don't appreciate the Micky being taken.

C'est la Vie

Croix

All the bills got to be paid, so I guess they put on what pays. I think I would rather see what challenges, but not like bright laser lights flashing and blaring music at rock concert volumes. I do like things that make me think,or look at a subject differently, or leave me wanting to know more, or feeling I now do know more than I did.

Sometimes, though, a good belly laugh does wonders! I didn't like much slap-stick. I thought the jokes were taken to such absurd extremes, for no better reason than to keep the jokes going, until everyone falls down from exhaustion? I dunno.

Or maybe it is the choreographed way it has to be to be what it is. I would rather the unplanned, spontaneous moment. Something someone does or says in the moment, which was not intended to be funny.

Schadenfreude - you bet. Most comedy is. I think Maybe, I have a very immoral, possibly feral cat in here, who loves every bit of someone's blundering misfortune. I think I might have got that from my father, but not to the serious extent he had, I am glad to say.

Who remembers spinning around, getting so dizzy you fell down? I know, when I did, I'd get up, & stagger around, laughing like kookaburras. & wanting to be spun around by our feet, too, with the same result.

Another blip memory: sliding down the stair, on our bottoms, bump, bump, bruising ourselves, laughing all the way.

😹Kids are so weird!

Dear mmMekitty~

I guess with the local rep it was as much a question of the mindset of the performers as it was any financial considerations. Traditional English seemed to be it.

I'm a bit different to you about the comedy of others misfortunes. For example I do not like Fawlty Towers as it has a hard edge but love Yes Minister.

I changed after I became ill and am now too uncomfortable with misfortune and unhappy endings - go figure.

For things that make you think I'd wonder if you like theater of the absurd too, works like Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead.I always find there is something to ponder each time I see a performance. Then again there are other genre movies that do the same thing -Blade Runner would be one example, Ghost in the Shell another. Maybe Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I guess it is the mindset of the viewer and the more references it conjures up

Perhaps for me it is often the cleverness of the words -which is why I also like Oscar Wilde (as Moon will tell you).

Croix

C

I have a happy memory of when I first heard Noel Coward (a radio programme) performing, "Don't Put Your Daughter on the Stage, Mrs Worthington". Even if the words were not wonderful, his exact elocution held me to evry syllable.

Thanks Croix, I appreciate your suggested reading - I am listening to so many books I am wanting new authors, because I like at least a year before rereading books again. Thanks to my rotten memory, often it is like reading them for the first time.

Oops, I'm up very, very late/early/

I did get a really good sleep earlier, so I suppose that is why I hadn't noticed what time it is now.

Dear mmMekitty~

I find it does not matter if I remember the content of a book from before or not , I will remember if it made me feel good. There are books I've read several times and put aside for down times and I know they will make me feel better when needed. The same applies to shows, comedies, comedians and much more.

You sound as if you have a voracious appetite for hearing material, I hope you have had a chance to browse

https://librivox.org/

It's not like Project Gutenberg, seemingly full only of old stuff. I'd also suggest the Internet Archive

https://archive.org/

which has the free borrowing section as well as a straight download library.

Glad you had a good sleep

Croix

Dear Croix and memeMkitty

I wonder if you've read Noel Coward's Diaries...I bought the thick volume years ago..good insight into the man..so clever..so witty..razor sharp..wrote his female characters in his plays so well.

Good idea, Moonstruck. I'll have a look. I don't usually read memoir or auto/biography. Just occasionally.

,

Finances being what they are, I hope to find audiobooks I can listen to for free. (& not have to register/subscribe - giving them more of my lovely data! They do get enough already) If I could purchase every book I have listened to since I began using audiobooks I could(not) have spent maybe a $100,000 by now, easily, over the last 18 years or so. A printed book which may have taken me a month to read might be read in twenty hours. That's because, with the volume up a bit, I can do other things while listening. Printed books, you have to stop and read.

I spent many hours, being absorbed in the reading of say, Lord of the Rings, not noticing the time passing., while my mind supplemented the text with my own impressions and imaginings. I would take these imaginings to bed and be thinking of them while drifting off to sleep.

Much easier to do that then, but now it is not so easy - too many tiny distractions and I can't seem to hold my attention to my inner 'world' (whether based on some writer's ideas or my own musings).

I especially do enjoy when my mind conjures up an image, which I can then hold and turn into a piece of writing.

I have had images appear, and thought, I'd like to paint that, see if I can reproduce what I have only seen in my head. some I simply didn't have the technical skill to barely attempt, but some, I had done. A few I had done on my computer, using the old Paint programme. It has become so difficult, it is frustrating beyond endurance. Those I did manage I enjoyed very much.

I just remembered how I used to go into Brisbane's city centre, roam around awhile, until I found a busker/s & if they let me, I would sing with them for an hour or two. I don't think I ever took any money anyone might have given. I was just having fun.

One day, with a group of three, we went into a cafe. We had coffee, & we began to play there. I knew all the verses to Don McLean's American Pie, (the busker's mainstay), & was happy to show them.

I don't thnk we wer bad, just loud.

the cafe owner came and kicked us out.

I was not bothered in the least. It was so fun, people sitting around, & I am sure some were listening, enjoying our spontaneous performance. I had some good feelings, casual & light, like we'd been friends for years.

I never felt self-conscious until years later.

Hello Everyone,

I don't have much to add to the literary conversation here. I don't have a favourite author, I don't recall which books I have read, I generally choose a book at the library if the cover takes my fancy in some way.

I do enjoy reading people's travel stories and have often thought of writing up my holiday diaries and adding a little to them to make them more interesting. People's adventures and "explorings" in other countries and cultures I find interesting.

My sister and I created some new happy memories last week. We went on a driving adventure. We are fortune enough to live in S.A. where that is still possible. She is happy to traverse dirt roads so I saw places I would never drive myself.

I took a few photos on my phone to remember our day.

Yeah mmMekitty.....I can recall myself, doing stuff like that when wandering around the streets of Brisbane by myself...usually a weekend afternoon, not many people around then....those late 60s early 70s Hippie Era days were unique, never to be repeated. compared to our freedoms eroded like they are these days.....it must have been Paradise!

I was walking a lot then, in 1980's.

When I first moved out of home, into Taringa, I took the train into Roma Street, walked around for something like three hours, and ended up at Brunswick Street Train Station. I just walked, not caring much about where I was going, got 'lost' I suppose. My mindset, how it was, I didn't care. I could see better then, but still, it was a risky thing to do. At one point someone approached me and asked me if I wanted to go to a party - I think I was lucky I simply was not interested in meeting people; just wanted to be walking on my own. Nwo I wonder what sort of 'party' did he mean?

I have lived in various Brisbane suburbs, and would regularly walk to and from the city. Often I did to get out, when something had stirred me up to know I was not happy, angry even, and I could not deal with having emotions, so I would walk. That was my remedy for feelings. I shut them down by walking.

I also went on marches during the mid 80'a, noisy, but with a group, or I might tag along with a group whose message I liked. They didn't object to me marching along with them. While it was like a picnic, I was enjoying this stuff. I would become nervous if there were rumours of undercover cops or (haha) people from ASIO, who might be gathering information about who was marching. It was a laugh, but underneath I was nervous.

If I had been a little older, & if we had not come to Australia, who knows? I might have gone to Woodstock! What a thought...

This is a simple but happy memory of mine:

Coming home from high school, sitting on the couch under a cozy blanket and drinking chai tea while watching a random movie.

For some reason I look back at this memory and just remember feeling so calm, content and carefree.

Dear All~

For me one of the pleasures was arriving home from school in winter at a place we lived in the UK. There was snow all over which was wet slush on the road I walked in the dark from the bus stop, during which my shoes became soggy and my woolen socks icy and wet.

Then inside from the darkness into a well lit kitchen, the smell of dinner cooking, the sound of parents talking, cats scooting, me peeling off the socks and shoes and wiggling toes in front of the stove, felt wonderful.

Thanks for reminding me

Croix

A few random childhood memories:

Making sand castles on the beach

Looking for crabs amongst the rocks

Exploring the countryside

My first bike (second hand and with brakes and a bell!)

My little red wagon I would sit in and then rush down the footpath

Making little paper boats to sail down the gutters after rain

Sliding on cardboard down a grassy hill

Climbing trees

Dear Mrs D~

I remember 2 sorts of crabs (your word poem reminded me) , one sort with a rough shell you could eat, the other not, or so my Welsh grandfather Tide would say.

So I'd walk down to the pier and along til I came to the rusty bars set in the side and climb down to water's edge. It was hard on the hands and I'd often get little cuts, later to be dosed in iodine by my Granny Nain.

Then wiht a scrap of meat on a string I'd dangle it invitingly in the clear water, just outside the fronds of seaweed. In time I'd see a claw come out and grip.

Hall it in, get more, discard the inedible then home to have crab for tea.

Not a random boy's amusement, in those days groceries could be hard to come by and every little counted (including dandelion salad - yuck)

Croix

Hi Croix and all,

Your story reminded me of my fishing expeditions, we had no boys in our family, so I was the one to go fishing.

I'd wander down to the jetty maybe from age 10 and see what I could catch. I had a hand line. It took me a while to work out how to bait the hooks without sticking myself with the hook.

I would scale the fish at the jetty and scamper down the uneven, slippery steps leading into the ocean to rinse the fish off, watching the waves to see when it was safe to do so.

Way back then, net fishing was permissible. Men would drag out nets on the beach and catch tuna. The town's children would go down to the beach and ask if help was needed. We would be given a fish to take home for our efforts.

I personally don't like fishing now, I feel sorry for the fish. Then it was a necessity. It was nice to have fish with the mashed potato and peas!

Dear Mrs D~

It sounds as if we much alike, providing a little towards our families, though I have to confess I never has much luck catching fish - from a jetty or elsewhere, crabs, prawns and winkles were my game.

Croix

Hi Croix,

I used to do quite well catching tommy roughs off the jetty. Dad made a boat and would take us out garfishing at night. It was always on a near moonless night, using a tilly lamp to attract the fish, we would scoop them up in a net.

In a creek we were able to catch bream and some other types of fish.

I also used to collect periwinkles and roast them on the rocks using sticks I collected then hook the morsel out with the thorn off a box thorn bush.

Guess all of that activity is illegal now without the appropriate licences.

Foraging for food only happens in supermarkets these days and occasionally from other people's gardens.

Dear Mrs D~

"and occasionally from other people's gardens." You have my admiration, picking veggies in the dead of night wihtout benefit of light must be hard. Hopefully they will not follow the footsteps to your fence:)

Tilley lamps, I wonder if anyone remembers them, they were the greatest source of portable outdoor light. I used to have one on a float and would wade out knee deep wiht a net on a pole. The lamp uset to light up prawns' eyes like a constallation of red dots which I'd scoop up

Hi Croix,

Ha. Ha. The gathering of goodies from other people's gardens only happens when they are generously given to me!

Our current neighbours all have dogs, there would be no night pilfering happening in any of their gardens!

We had lots of power failures in our region, sometimes for days, so kerosene lamps and wood fires were the go.