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'The Box'

29/8/2020

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The box was created circa 1950 by my father, for Mum.  At the time they lived in a tiny 2 roomed shack not far from the Goodradigbee river at Wee Jasper.  Also on the farm lived my sister Faye, Dad’s parents (Les and Rita), his younger sister Flo, her husband Phil and their daughter Jean.  I’m not sure if my brother was born or not.

The shack had almost no storage space.  Mum needed somewhere during summer to store her blankets and extra linen.

I’m told by Faye that Dad created the box from tea chests he had during his time in the army.  The box is 70cm long, 60cm high and wide.  The inside is lined with old fashioned tar paper, the kind that has a brown paper on each side of tar.  I’ve no idea how it was made.  Perhaps the tar was brushed onto heavy brown paper, with a second piece of paper stuck on top.  It has survived very well, retaining the familiar tar like smell.  A spare piece of this paper sits on the floor of the box.  The box is very solid, making a great seat.

The boards are held together with nails, with smaller pieces of timber on all upright edges.  On the front is a small handle, which looks more like a door knocker, and is totally useless apart from aesthetics.  Prior to cleaning, this was almost black.  Now it shines like brass, the central semi-circle section being almost pink.

All my life, this box was painted a glossy cream colour.  Geoff helped me sand the worst of the flaking paint away.  He reinforced the bottom of the box, and repaired any timber coming loose.  I have since re-painted the box a milk chocolate brown colour in semi-gloss, called “Nomad”, over any remaining cracked paint; which gives the box an old appearance.  This paint was chosen for obvious reasons – the box, like it’s owners has been nomadic.

After we moved to a farm near Nangus NSW, I remember Mum always storing her sewing fabrics in the box.  I remember this from the few times I was allowed into Mum and Dad’s room to help with something.

The box had many homes (over 20), travelling everywhere with my parents, living in different rooms in different houses.  It’s last home while Mum still owned it, was in Canberra.  I have moved it three more times since.  It has housed rocks from all over Australia, spare light globes and many bottles of essential oils in little boxes for me.

Today it sits snugly in the corner of our new back room, fully restored, on bricks so no water can touch the bottom; and for now it is empty.

A big thank you to Dad for creating the box.  It has made many memories for our family, with more adventures to come.


Maxine Gardiner
August 2020
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'Right Here, Right Now'

28/8/2020

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Right here, right now, our world is in the grips of a pandemic known as Covid-19.  There is so much going on around our own state to keep us confused.  Rules and regulations change daily, how does one remember it all?  I am saddened to hear of so many deaths of the frail and vulnerable in nursing homes.  Others who live alone must feel so isolated from the world right now.  I can’t see any of my family as they all live across the border, yet we keep in touch the best we can.  I am patiently waiting for the day I get to see my children and grandchildren.

Coping in isolation has been relatively easy for Geoff and I.  We have both had many and varied tasks to complete, we also created extra’s.  Geoff spent many hours during the first lockdown cutting firewood for family and friends.  This he would mostly do alone, sawing the wood for others to collect in their own space and time.   He has since closed in two sides of our back veranda, creating an open ended laundry, so much nicer on cold wet days for the washer woman.  He has also completed the capping bricks around the house.  This was about 22 years after the house was built, it looks so much better now.  Geoff also made a lockable carry box to fit the caravan which holds a generator.  He is temporarily back at work near Mitre 10.

He and I have been helping a friend by feeding hay to 4 or 5 paddocks of cattle twice a week.  This gets us out of the yard for a couple of hours at a time.  Some weeks this is my only outing.

I have been completing many UFO’s (Unfinished Objects!).  Strip pieced placemats/coasters started in 2006; cushion tops x 5 almost done; a crocheted jug cover(too far back to remember); knitting beanies/ scarves for grandies and charity; making masks / pot holders; shopping bags;  lots of gardening.

The best part of lockdown has been Geoff and I spending much more quality time together, completing many chores in each other’s company. He reinforced Dad and Mum’s wooden box before I painted it.  He made a new step stool for the caravan, I painted it.  Geoff dug areas of the vegetable garden which I filled with seeds or plants.  We pruned every plant needing attention.  We have also enjoyed many hours in the evenings, watching his personal videos of music festivals, fishing trips, tractor treks, horse riding trips or general holidays.

I hope this pandemic ends soon so I can be re-united with my family and friends in NSW, re-join U3A groups, go to the library or out for dinner/coffee etc, get back in the pool, and no longer have to wear masks.

Maxine Gardiner
August 2020
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'My favourite Uncle'

24/2/2020

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Alban Roy Bush, better known as Roy, was born to Don & Audrey Bush on 24th May 1935, at Sefton Hospital in Tumut. He was the second son & seventh child. Roy had an elder brother Howard, & eight sisters; Merle, Eileen, Betty, Verlie, Rosie, Gwen, Ethel and Margaret.   Theirs was a close family, growing up around Tumorrama where Pop owned land.  He later moved to Goulburn.

Roy married Kay, & together they had three children – Debbie, Maree & Billy.  Unfortunately the marriage broke up when the children were barely teenagers.  He married Joan many years later, but this didn't last either.  Also sadly, son Billy was murdered about 13 years ago, a very traumatic event for Roy & the family.

Uncle Roy has worked on many properties, Inverollochy (which later became a Christian Agricultural College) near Goulburn; also at Breadalbane, Araluen & in later life many places near Canberra; where he has lived for over 35 years now. His working life here included many years in a timber business, mostly delivering all over the ACT.

My memories of Uncle Roy are all wonderful.  He was/is the uncle always encouraging kids to get into mischief; nothing dark & sinister, just cheeky fun. He loves playing ball games, board games, cards, throwing water bombs at unsuspecting adults, using shangai's, plays chasies/hide 'n' seek with the kids, does jig-saws, crosswords, sudoku, never a dull moment.  Despite all his mischief, everyone adores him. His grandchildren all say he is the best Grandad ever to exist.

Roy preserves all his own fruit, makes prize winning jams for many country shows, grows his own vegetable garden, freezing or giving away the excess produce.  He & Maree drive many miles to pick blackberries for his special jam.

My mother and Roy shared a house together in Kaleen for the last few years of her life. It was here she reconnected with so many of her family. She & Roy had many excursions together, sometimes other sisters travelled with them.  Mum finally got to Bundaberg, a long time wish of hers.  I have many special memories of visiting the two of them in Canberra.  I am eternally grateful for all the care he gave Mum during her cancer journey, taking her to doctors, hospitals & treatment centres. He was always so patient with her many mood changes.  He gives each of his remaining sisters the same love & attention. He will frequently drive to Goulburn where most of them live, to take them places.  Once every year he travels to Bundaberg for 2 to 3 weeks to stay with Verlie, usually taking at least one other sister along for the drive.        Every time I visit, Uncle Roy takes me somewhere different within the city, or anywhere else I want to go.

Roy constantly helps his daughters on their properties doing cattle work, fencing, gardening, etc.  He goes to a lot of events with the grandchildren & now great-grandchildren. He supports every one of them as much as he can.  Roy often travels with younger family members to music concerts – Sydney, Yass, or around the city. He loves country music, but will listen to modern forms also.

Roy & daughter Debbie go to all the home games of Canberra Raiders, guess who is in the stands cheering the loudest?

Uncle Roy is very affectionate & gives the best hugs. I can sit with him quietly & talk about anything. He is like a father to me, a great listener, a best friend, an uncle & all round great bloke.  I love him very much, he is the best.


Maxine Gardiner
February 2020
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Brief...a children's bedtime story:   'Animal ABC'

23/4/2018

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Alistair is an Aardvark who eats ants and apples in the afternoon.
Angus the Alligator eats anything, as he isn't as fussy.

Becky the bongo banging Baboon only eats bananas for breakfast.
Boris Bear likes bugs better.

Chester the Crazy Chameleon changes colours constantly while
Charlie Caterpillar crawls carefully over the cactus to chew the flowers.

Daisy & Dallas are two ditzy Ducks, dawdling down to the dam for a 
delightful dip.  Dougal Donkey dances around the dam bank.

Edna the Eagle with her excellent eyesight can see them as she soars high in the air;
Edgar Elephant who has enormous ears and likes to eat eggplant in the evening.

Fergus Fox & Freddie Ferret forage for food together; fat furry rabbits are their favourite.
Felicity Frog likes to play the fiddle for fun on Fridays & eat flies.

Gypsy the Guinea Pig grazes on geraniums in Grandpa's garden.
Guido the Giraffe likes acacia trees with gigantic thorns & green leaves.
Germaine Gerbel prefers to gobble green grass.

Harry the Hippopotamus hauls himself into the water, hoping to hide from the hot sun.
Helga the Hare hopped around, helping herself to hot cross buns.
Howard the handsome Hamster nibbled ham sandwishes.

Iggy the Iguana likes icky insects & lives on an island.
Ingar the Impala bounces all about, while Ivan the Ibis ignores everyone.

Jeremy the Jaguar lives in the jungle and likes to juggle jellybeans.
Jilly Jellyfish joyfully journey's in the sea.

Kerry Koala & Kelly Kangaroo keep ketchup in the kitchen.
Kara the Kiwi & her friend Kiri Kingfisher know how to knit kaftans.

Lucy is a lovely Ladybird with lots of little black spots on her back.
Leroy is a lazy Lion who likes to lay on the lounge licking lollipops.

Maud Magpie munches on minced meat and marshmallows, while
Maurice the Meercat mumbles in the moonlight looking for his Mummy.

Nakita is a Numbat who nibbles nuts every night, while Naida Nightingale sings her sweet song.

Oscar Octopus & Ollie Oyster wear over-the-top outfits to the underwater opera.
Olympia the Orangutan offers oranges to Odette Ostrich who only eats outside on her own.

Pedro Pig paddles in the purple mud in his pig-pen eating petunias & pumpkin pie.
Percy Platypus prefers to swim playfully in perfectly clean water.

Quincy Quokka is a quirky creature, he quietly reads his book.
Queenie Quoll queues for quince jelly for her bread.

Rodney Rhinoceros really likes rolling in the dust.
Roger & Rosie Rabbit like to run in the rain wearing racoon skin hats.

Shamus is a silly Sheep, he likes to swim in the shallow stream
Sallie Seahorse isn't scared, she likes to swim in the deep blue sea.

Theodore is a Tassie Devil who terrifies everyone, then tiptoes into town for tea & toast.
Tommy Termite thinks he will build a terribly tall tower to live in.

Ushi the Uakara uses her unusually red coloured face to hide in the undergrowth.
Ulrich the Unicorn is under an umbrella wearing his uniform.

Victor Vulture & Vladimir the Vampire Bat are very good friends, they play their violins together.

Waldo Wallaby waits near the water while Wanda Wombat goes wandering in the woods looking for wiggly worms.  Soon they will go fishing. 
Walter Walrus is waiting for the water to warm up before he goes wading.

Xylon & Xena, the X-ray tetra fish, swim in the Amazon river. 
They like to play the xylophone.

Yasi Yak yawns quietly then yodels a tune for her friends Yuri & Yoko.

Zeus Zebu & Zora Zebra zoom around the big garden before going to sleep.  ZZZZzzzz.....
goodnight, sleep tight; don't let the bed bugs bite.

Maxine Gardiner
​April 2018


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'Lost in Music'

26/2/2018

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​Music is a wonderful form of the arts – country, rock, classical, rhythm and blues, jazz – the list goes on.  I love music (maybe not the rap style or hip hop with few words and less tune), but it is clever in its own odd way.  One of my favourite songs is by Celine Dion – My Heart Will Go On.  It was played at the funeral of my partner Ben, chosen by him for me.  It was to remind me, that although he was gone in physical body, he would remain forever in spirit, in my heart and memories.

As a child growing up, my parents both played the accordion.  Mum’s was the piano accordion; and Dad the button accordion, (which I now proudly own, but can’t play).  We spent many happy hours listening to them.  Neither could read music, they simply listened to a song a few times.  Often Mum would sing as Dad played, while others danced or listened.   Dad played at local dances in his younger days with other young men playing various other instruments – fiddle, concertina, harmonica or lagerphone.

I was a teenager in the ‘70’s – a great era for music.  One girlfriend and I spent many happy hours playing songs over and over, writing down the words before finally singing our version at the top of our lungs. Favourites were Sherbet, Skyhooks, William Shakespeare, Michael Jackson, Hush, Led Zeppelin,  The Bee Gees,  ACDC, even Elton John.  We must have driven Mum crazy with the constant repetition.  I believe she allowed it because she loved Debbie like a daughter.  I still love ‘70’s music.  My first live concert was at 16, to see Hush – Aloud and Alive, in Wagga.  It was a really hot February night, kids were packed into the hall like sardines;  I managed to get right near the front.  I screamed their songs out for 3 hours, and loved it. 

Mum also taught me lots of songs from the 40’s and 50’s – Dean Martin, Perry Como, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, and Vera Lynn etc.  My elder sister grew up in the ‘60’s, so Elvis Presley, Johnny O’Keefe,  Johnny Cash, The Seekers and The Beatles were high on the listening list.  The Rolling Stones were never my kind of music.

As an adult I love most music.  I listen to it constantly, mostly country music.  I have hundreds of CD’s, still have all my cassettes (about 600 plus) and an extensive collection of LP’s.  I inherited over 500 of these when I bought my house in Mathoura in 2006. In the collection are several originals of Freddie Mercury, Cliff Richard, Duane Eddy, Tom Jones etc. 

My music these days is by artists such as Alan Jackson,  Don Williams, Cameron Mason,  Justin Standley and many Australian artists of country music,  Sarah Brightman,  Celine Dion,  Lorena McKenna,  Foster & Allan, Paul McLeod,  etc;  way too many to mention.  Celtic music I find very soothing , I have dozens of relaxation and instrumental CD’s.
​
Music is wonderful; so much talent and skill to perform – no matter the style.  It can be soothing, relaxing, uplifting, emotional, horrendous, annoying, and repetitious.  In whatever form it is performed, someone, somewhere enjoys it.
 
Maxine Gardiner
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Travel Tales - 'Have Fergie, Will Travel'

9/10/2017

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The Dig Tree Trek, 14th August to 13th September 2017.

Sun, red sand, burrs, dust, wind, and flies – welcome to the Australian Outback. What a magnificent place to travel, with such a diverse variety of scenery, wildlife; and magnificent sunrise / sunsets. Complete with wide open spaces & brilliant night skies.

A contingent of 36 people left Fort Courage Caravan Park, Wentworth, the aim - to get to the Dig Tree & back on Fergie tractors, following some of the journey Burke & Wills never completed. They started from Melbourne on the 20th August 1860, with 19 men. We started on 14th August 2017 with 19 tractors & 14 support vehicles; including one 2WD tray truck, one 4WD bus (converted to motor home) & one large trailer carrying spare parts/welder etc; (& we made it back alive). Many towed camper trailers, with some having sleeping accommodation in their vehicles, 3 drivers had swags on stretchers in the outdoors. 7 tractor drivers went solo – no back-up crew; so at meal times it was “get your own”. Some chose to band together to make mealtimes easier. We had 1 woman tractor driver, (solo), & a total of 11 women altogether. The age of the group ranged from 24 to 82 years.

The crew had a special “alarm clock” for the trek. This was Doc, playing a very bad version of reveille on the bugle, always at 6am. Although I noticed there were a few mornings it was up to 15 minutes earlier.

The weather was very kind to us, providing minimal rain, plenty of sunshine; but an excess of cold wind. Our tractor drivers rugged up every day with beanies, scarves & gloves - just to keep warm. Each travelling day started before 6am, breakfast, followed by packing up camp, ready to move by 8am sharp. From Wentworth we travelled north to Lethero Station, camping on the banks of the Darling River.

Day 2 on to Tolarno Station, where we were invited to tour the magnificent old homestead & surrounds, and given a very animated talk by the owner. It was mainly about the demise of the Darling River, which was an awful green- brown colour. Shearing was in progress on Tolarno, with a young NZ gun shearer clocking up 310 sheep for the day.

Day 3 was to Menindee, we enjoyed a cool beer and sandwiches in the Maiden Inn pub, a place dedicated to Burke and Wills. 6 km out of town to stay at the van park (aah – hot showers) overlooking the Menindee lake; which did have plenty of water.

Day 4 we continued to Broken Hill, where we enjoyed our first rest day – ha ha. (It was catch-up on the washing, sort food/water etc.) We also celebrated a 50th birthday at the Chinese restaurant. As we left BH, we lined up opposite the tourist information centre, in Kintore Headframe Park, creating a lot of interest, including the ABC radio. The young reporter interviewed Geoff among others, airing their interviews 3 days later.

Out to Mt Gipps Station where BHP was originally started back in 1885, then known as the Broken Hill Company. John & Kym gave a wonderful talk about BHP, & the station. We awoke a nice big frost & minus 6 degrees.

On to Pine View via the Tarrawingee mine.  Along this road we found evidence of the rail line used to transport the minerals found to Broken Hill and beyond. At Pine View we camped near the shearer's quarter's, appreciating the hot showers & beautiful wood fired pizza's the owners cooked for our arrival. On to Smithville Station, where we were given a talk on the dog fence & maintenance of 600km of it by this station. We camped by a dry creek bed, enjoying a sing-a-long around the camp-fire as Bob played his guitar and/or banjo.

Day 9 was THE best day. We had been given special permission to travel the dog fence from Smithville Station to Cameron's Corner. It was great fun zooming up the sand dunes & rolling down the other side. We saw dozens of kangaroos, all sizes & colours. I nearly got tangled up with a couple of emus who were racing past in front of me. Our lady truck driver Joan, managed the dunes with ease. We had fluffy sand, wavy bits & snappy sections. (Our lead vehicle driver's words to tell us what to expect).    Lots of photos taken at Cameron's Corner with tractor line-ups, support crew line-ups & signs, mostly in South Australia. A few of us enjoyed an evening meal in the shop/pub/restaurant.

Two days driving along the bore track, usually reserved for the gas pipeline operators, proved very interesting. Fluffy & wavy sand again, bouncy corrugations, also our 'rest' stops were now called 're-connecting with nature' or 'nature walks'. We camped overnight in the Innaminka National Park. After tea Alan entertained us with a talk on the night sky, of which we had a magnificent view.

Along the bore track our truck, 1 tractor, Maggot & Wes left us to try to find an 'easier route' to Innaminka. They didn't – travelling 171km to our 60 or so.

We arrived in Innaminka on Friday 25th, enjoying 2 days/3 nights camped along the banks of Cooper's Creek. Maggot had to do some major repair work, having broken a stub axle in the land cruiser. All found plenty to do here; washing, visiting the store or pub, with some going to the local gymkhana. All made use of the $2 showers at the store to wash away the dust. We visited the local cemetery; a harsh, barren place. Each grave was surrounded by stones, with few headstones. 2 graves faced differently – believed to be Afghan camel drivers.

On to see Burke's Grave, a few km from town, then on to the Dig Tree which is on Nappa Merri Station. Another rest day, with a great talk by ranger Col, on explorers Burke & Wills. Most of us bought a book written by an owner of the station in the early 1900's.

Down through Orientos & Naryilco Stations, camping on both overnight in paddocks by the road, before moving on to Tibooburra. 2 nights in the caravan park, washing & visiting the local sights. Several of us drove out to Mt Woods Station, which once had a wool scouring plant. Many of the original fences & equipment used was still here, in very poor condition. We also walked across a particularly wobbly suspension bridge, this led from the shearing shed to the quarters over a dry creek bed. Everyone enjoyed a great night out as a club, celebrating the 80th birthday of one of our SA members.

Don was awoken by the bugle, again, playing a rather bad rendition of Happy Birthday, as everyone sang to him. On our last morning, Geoff and I caught up with a group of Benalla folk, including Dr Paul Kelly, who had been staying at the same caravan park.

At Milparinka, we camped on the creek where it was a little more sheltered from the howling wind. Geoff & I visited Poole's grave (he was one of Charles Sturt's men). The inscription on the grevillea robusta tree was still visible, being 172 plus, years old. At 3pm we all enjoyed an early Father's Day 'happy hour' in the shade of the gums along the creek. One woman even soaked her feet in “spring” water. (one of the guys found an old car spring, put it in a bucket of water – thus spring water (outback humour)).

On to Pimpara Lake Station, the lake was dry; but we had interesting scenery with a lovely sunset. John & Ruth Sandow made us very welcome, giving a fun talk, & providing hot showers/clean toilets. 

The crew moved on to Fowler's Gap Research station. Here they gave a talk on the birds of study by the overseas students.

Return to Broken Hill for 3 nights where we enjoyed our motel room, while the others stayed at the van park. A trip to Silverton with a line-up of tractors in front of the pub. Return to Menindee. The owners provided us with a roast lamb dinner, extremely delicious & much appreciated. To Pooncarie to camp on the Darling. It was very relaxing here, although the colour of the water was still a green-brown. Out to Lake Mungo National Park, where the group did a tour of The Walls of China on a 32 degree day at 2pm. Great way to spend our last rest day.

Back to Lethero Station. It was here on the banks of the Darling, where we had our presentation evening. Our trek organiser Bob was given a photo of the group lined up at the Dig Tree, beautifully framed. Our tractor & support crew leaders & tail-end Charlie's were all given small gifts. And The Blue Max (tractor tail end Charlie) handed out special prizes for a few others, mostly made from things he had found along the road. It was all quite amusing. Our last day, the 13th September, saw us return to Wentworth; where once again the Angling Club cooked us a welcome evening meal.

The station owners were all very welcoming, giving talks on their properties, some providing hot showers, toilet facilities & firewood.

​Breakdowns included the stub axle, 1 tractor with a rocker arm issue (fixed during smoko break), 1 broken tractor seat, 1 tractor broke a crankshaft (near Pooncarie – trailered back from here), 1 had fuel/oil issues that were eventually sorted, 2 camper trailers had cracked or broken draw-bars, & 1 got tow started a couple of cold mornings (need to buy a bigger battery Geoff). All breakdowns were capably fixed by the crew.

Fuel prices ranged from $1.30 to $2.00 per litre. Diesel tractors used from 9 to 22 litres of fuel per 100km. Petrol tractors used approximately 30 litres fuel per 100km. This trek was about 2130km in total. Those with no support vehicle travelled further as the tractor was their only transport. Geoff's tractor has now travelled over 9000km in total for the last 3 treks (that's not counting its travel by trailer to & from trek starting points).

Friendships were renewed with folk met on the WA/NT trek two years previous, or from Cape York in 2013, plus new friendships were created. All our address books came home fuller. We arrived back with 4 tractors less (due to either mechanical or personal reasons) & 4 less people than we started, however, we gained the daughter of our vehicle leader, north of Broken Hill. Rachel drove a little hatchback car where the rest had 4WD's.

Our last night at Wentworth was quite emotional. For some it was like saying farewell to family, others were relieved it was over, but we all agreed it had been an interesting trip. Why do we do it?? Because we can!!! Planning has already begun for 2019's trip by our SA members.


Maxine Gardiner
 
Members were from Hervey and Bremer Bay in WA Mt Gambier, Penola & Yankalilla in SA Mackay, Wallaville, Tannum Sands & Mountain Camp in QLD Longford inTasmania The remainder came from Maiden Gully, Molyullah, Camperdown, Johnsonville, Beaconsfield, Rutherglen, Chiltern Valley, Hamilton, Woolamai, Maryknoll, Meeniyan, & Merbein in Victoria

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'Failure'

24/4/2017

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The Macquarie dictionary describes failure as: an act of failing or being unsuccessful; to become smaller, lesser or weaker.

I have decided to approach this topic from a different angle – using acrostics, but not in the conventional sense as a poem.

The word failure:

F = fear of the known, unknown, or outcome. This may be followed by the fight or flight syndrome   
A = attitude – both to the perceived 'failure' & our reaction
I = ignorance to the situation happening around us; & our 'inability' to cope
L = lack of both knowledge & a belief in oneself.
U = umbrage or a feeling of being over shadowed
R = reaction, how we react is important       .
E = energy – how much energy to we give to the negatives which can lead us to rock bottom
      empathy – are we looking for this from others to make ourselves feel better

Failure can be turned into success, using the same letters, but more positivity.  Try rewriting it as:

F = focus – what we focus on expands, therefore if we focus on the positives, we will move forward
A = ability to try again & succeed
I = I can, I will & I have
L = love, both for oneself & what lessons have been learnt along the way
U = up – the only way is up
       understanding -what went wrong & how to fix it
R = respect for oneself
E = enthusiasm, to keep trying to improve.

If we accept failure as a stepping stone, a learning curve or simply as part of life; we have learnt that without failure, there is no success.     

Maxine Gardiner
April 2017                    
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'Experiences of the Unexplained'

26/9/2016

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I have had a few unexplained experiences in my life. 
​
The first I had no recollection of until my Aunt told me about it a few years ago while we were visiting her husband’s grave in Tumut NSW; it was then I remembered. Our family visited Uncle Alec on the week before he was killed by a falling tree. On leaving I told him: “I love you to the moon and back forever,” Aunt remembers me saying this to him.  After his death, my sister recalls Mum saying to her “How did that child know?”  I was 5 ½ years old.

The second was in 1988 during minor surgery after a miscarriage. I know that during the surgery I died for a few minutes, as I can recall watching the doctors from above the operating table putting the paddles on my chest to re-start my heart.  I watched them doing this, thinking, I like it here, wherever I am.  I could see a long tunnel-like area with a very bright white light at the end of it.  It looked amazing and safe. But something inside my head said – no – you must go back for your children, who will care for them if you are not there?  You must go back, then the white light was gone.   Later on when I awoke, my doctor was sitting there holding my hand.  He commented “You’re back with us, you know you died in there for a few minutes?” I answered, “Yes I know, you put things on me here and here”, pointing to my chest.  His face went white and he simply said: “We’re glad you’re here”.   I could never work out how I knew what happened and thought I was going crazy, or it must be the anaesthetic playing tricks with my brain. 

The third was when my grandfather passed away in 1991.  All day I had trouble concentrating on anything, I felt nauseated for no apparent reason, hot then cold, I kept dropping things, I’d go for a walk in the garden then have to sit down. I tried to eat and it tasted awful. Something just wasn’t right.  About 5pm it all stopped, I felt okay again.  Later that evening Mum rang, saying “I have some bad news for you”.  I answered, “Pop’s dead, isn’t he?”  Mum replied, “How do you know, has someone rang you already?”

“No, I just had a feeling something wasn’t right all day”

How did I know? I had no idea what it was, I just knew.

The next time was with my father. I was staying with a girlfriend and went to bed early as I was feeling really exhausted. Tess said I tossed and thrashed about making strange moaning noises until after midnight, when I settled.  It was soon after the phone rang, Dad had passed away at the time I had settled, after a long battle with renal cancer.

I can’t explain any of these happenings; or the fact that many times when the phone rings, I know who it is before I answer it, as I was about to call that same person. Many other unexplainable things have happened too.  I have learnt not to question any of it, just accept that it is all a part of who I am.

Maxine Gardiner
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'Foxes eat little girls'...

10/6/2016

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It was a coal black night, no moon at all, and deathly quiet, until the chooks and ducks started their loud squawking and flapping of wings;  making such a hullabaloo it broke the silence of the night air.  “What's happening?” I asked.

“Sounds like a fox in the chook house” said Mum.

“What's a fox?” came my reply.

“You stay inside and look after your baby sister, foxes eat little girls”.  This was the statement made by my elder sister Faye, who at 16, was ten years older than me.

Mum, Dad, Faye and Joe, (my older brother) all donned coats and shoes to go out to chase away 'the fox.'   I didn't want any of them to go. It must be dangerous if this fox ate 'little girls', and if Dad had to take his gun, the 410.   

Mum's chooks were beautiful, big black and shiny and they laid lovely brown eggs. I would sometimes find one of their feathers in the yard, it smelt weird, but was smooth and shiny. And if you brushed the feather upside down, the edges went all funny, haphazard.  My brother's ducks were black and white muscovies, a nuisance really, always in the way when I wanted to play on the chook house roof and jump down into the yard. They left mess everywhere, but they ate snails and scraps. And made funny sounds when you chased them around the yard.  Or they squatted down in a hurry and you almost stepped on them because they had stopped, and you nearly didn't.   Mum made sponge cakes with their eggs, so they were okay, because Mum's sponge cakes were the best.  Lots of whipped cream and strawberry jam, with white icing on top that crunched when you bit into it, and cream went all over you.

I walked into Mum's bedroom to check on my sleeping baby sister and to make sure the window was closed tight. I didn't want the fox getting her, as she was really little.  All was well, Beth was quietly sleeping in her little cot, totally oblivious to the drama happening around her.

I sneaked towards the back screen door.  The hens and ducks were still carrying on, clucking, screeching, with the ducks loud quacks as well, and I could hear the muffled voices of my parents and siblings.  I was terrified for all of them, outside with a creature that ate people. However I thought they all should be alright if foxes only ate 'little' girls; because my sister was a big girl and Mum was all grown up, and Dad and Joe were boys, so they'd be okay.  

What was a fox, how big was it, what colour was it, did it have two legs and walk like a person or four legs and run like a dog?  Why did it only eat little girls and not big ones?  Why didn't it eat boys or grown ups? All these and many more questions raced through my mind.

Suddenly there was a loud bang, a lump of wood being hit hard against the corrugated tin of the chook house, much more squawking and quacking, and then lots of laughter from my family.

A couple of minutes later everyone returned to the house safe and sound, saying they had scared the fox away for this time, with Dad promising to check tomorrow to make sure there were no gaps in the netting for it to get in with the chooks. 
​

Sometime later I learnt what a fox really was, a pretty ginger coloured animal like a dog with a big bushy tail and a strong aroma, that didn't enjoy eating people at all, and especially not little girls.   If I see a fox dashing off in a hurry to a place of hiding, I smile and remember how his ancestor was supposed to eat me.
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'My favourite home'

10/6/2016

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I was born in September 1958, in the Goulburn Base Hospital, the third child of Jim and Betty Gardiner.  I had two elder siblings, Faye who was almost 10 ½ and Joe who was 6 ½.  At the time we lived at Tarago, between Goulburn and Canberra, in a run-down house of corrugated iron.   My father continually moved us around as a family, so we never really fitted in anywhere or had anywhere to call home. The family never owned their own house, we just lived in cottages of the property Dad was working on at the time.

However, we did have one place I have always considered special.  It was when we were living on a property called 'Billabong', approximately 20k m from Gundagai.  I was 4 years old when we moved here, and almost 14 when we left. Up until now, I had lived in four other houses of which I remember very little.  My two younger sisters were both born while we lived here, Beth in '64 and Ruth in '72.

Billabong was like heaven.  We had a 6 roomed house, with long back veranda, the toilet was at the far end, under cover and flushed.  A new concept for us as prior to this we always had the long drop up the back yard.  Also a tiny front porch, where we often ate Sunday night tea sitting on the steps or with our feet dangling over the sides. Sometimes this was sandwiches made from produce from the garden, or Mum's amazing jaffles toasted in the jaffle iron in the kitchen stove. The jaffles had Kraft block cheese, tomato and onion & were yummy. 

There was a big garden yard, with a large orchard at the bottom, full of all kinds of fruit trees, apples, pears, peaches, plums, apricot, figs and olives; citrus trees and a huge vegetable garden which kept us well supplied with fresh fruit and vegies.

Outside our garden fence was another big yard which housed 'the old building', the original property homestead.  In it we were allowed to play in some of the rooms, others were locked and full of treasures unknown.  On one side of this old building were low acacia trees which made great cubbies and where I made the best mud pies with peppercorn seeds for decoration.  There was also a meat room, with wooden sides to about 3 foot high and then gauzed to the roof for air flow and to keep out the flies. In here was a huge wooden chopping block, a couple of wooden benches and a lot of big butchers hooks on which Dad or Uncle Bill hung the sheep carcasses after slaughter, carrying them from the killing pen about 100 metres further up the hill.

On the opposite side of the building was the old pit toilet, and the blacksmiths shed.  In here was all manner of horse gear, long forgotten and most no longer in use.  I loved it in here, lots to play with and a good place to hide.  Next to this, under an old peppercorn tree was my all time favourite place.  An old furphy water tank on a wagon. There was a hole in the top without a lid; and I was the only person small enough to be able to get inside and hide.  I spent a lot of time in here when one particular Uncle was visiting, whom I didn't like.  He always smelt  like alcohol and was much too friendly.
​

Suspended from another peppercorn was our swing, a piece of highly polished board with two long chains.  Next to this were several old water-tanks, only smallish in size.  Four stood beside each other in a semi-circle, the fifth lay sideways with a small gap to the next tank, where we hung a hessian bag for a door, and we had a cubby house.  The tree provided the roof, which didn't keep out the rain very well, so it was a dry weather cubby.  The tank lying on its side was under a branch of the pepper tree up which we would climb, then sit on the tank and slide down the side of – our home made slippery dip.

Further up in the yard was a smallish shed – the feed shed where we kept the poultry feed.  And the fowl house, with smaller sheds beside for the muscovy ducks my brother owned.

There were plenty of trees in this big yard for the chooks and ducks throughout the day to scratch and forage underneath and also this yard was the best hide and seek area for the many children who visited.

Mum could have up to 14 children come in for a drink and bikkies during school holidays.  On Billabong there lived 6 children, there were five grandchildren (of the owner of the farm), two from next door, and numerous others would be visiting from neighbouring farms. 

On the nearby small hills we rode our push-bikes or dragged our billy-carts up the slopes to hurtle down again, having races through the thistles.  We played hide and seek, chasies, hopscotch or in the various cubbies around the farm.  We played around the stables and cow yard, rode to the shearing shed to play inside or slid down the cement of the old sheep dip, ran along the bottom and up the steps on the other side then run around and do it over again.

It wasn't all play though.  We had our chores to do.  I helped get the milking cows/calves in, usually four, at times I helped Mum or Joe with the milking. I operated the separator, then would stir the cream to make butter. I loved to make little round pats of butter, but had to make the bigger square blocks first. I helped with the cooking and preserving, the gardening, the washing. It was often my job to put the clothes through the wringer to get the bulk of water from them. I'd set the table, help wash/wipe up after meals, sweep floors etc.  I brought the morning wood in, often walking a long way to look for the smaller branches and twigs, sometimes bringing them home in my old cane dolls pram.  None of this was seen as work or as something we didn't want to do. We simply did it because it had to be done.  No-one ever complained.  I will always remember my mother saying to me if I sat still for too long - “don't just sit there, find something to do or I will find it for you”.

Life was wonderful, plenty to eat, always something to do, or someone to play with, and the freedom to be safe and happy. Billabong will always hold a special place in my heart and my memories.  For me,  it was home.
 
Maxine
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