Author: ThirdCat

The Rip

One of the books I took on the flight to Abu Dhabi was Robert Drewe’s The Rip.  His earlier collection The Bodysurfers is one of those books that I read whenever I need to understand how writing works. I just love it. And The Rip has not disappointed me, including as it does, the following:

“But he still looked a bit edgy. After a moment, he said, ‘Desiree has laid down some new ground rules for staying with me.’

‘Ground rules?’

‘Rules on the way things have to be arranged in future. What’s it called? Chop suey? Mah jong? You know what I mean. She’s making me do things with my shoes in Chinese.’

There was another long moment while I sipped my coffee. Eventually I had a brainwave. ‘You don’t mean feng shui?'”

It cracked me up when I read it, and it’s still cracking me up now.

The Rip. If it isn’t on your Christmas list, you have an unfinished list.

Chop suey. How funny is that?

Up and down

Yesterday, I bought new bathers. My first new pair in 13 years if you don’t count that rather disastrous effort from last year. Which I don’t.

These bathers make me look like CatWoman. A suitably matured and rounded out CatWoman. I feel so good in them, I almost took a photo to show you. But then I saw M*rced*s C*r*y on the news last night and it kind of put me off people in bathers taking photos of themselves for all the world to see.

After I bought the bathers, I went to the ABC shop, then left when I realised the main reason for going to the ABC shop was to find my Dad a present.

End of year picnic

Whereas:
Christmas has become an over-commercialised construct which places undue economic and social pressures on people who could really do without it;

And fully recognising that:
Father Christmas has been totally appropriated for aforesaid commercialisation;

And not withstanding:
That children get way too many lollies at this time of the year;

And also acknowledging:
that our primary schools should not be culturally isolating by introducing potentially inappropriate cultural symbols;

I nonetheless need to tell you that watching an entire school (admittedly a small school) of children run (arms and legs akimbo, hats flying to the ground) from one end of Marshmallow Park to the other in order to greet aforesaid commercial construct carrying sugar bounties is worth it’s weight. In myrrh.