A man is driving down a country road, when he spots a farmer standing in the middle of a huge field of wheat.
He pulls the car over to the side of the road and notices that the farmer is just standing there, doing nothing, looking at nothing.
The man gets out of the car, walks all the way out to the farmer and asks him, “Ah excuse me mister, but what are you doing?
“The farmer replies, “I’m trying to win a Nobel Prize.
“How?” asks the man, puzzled.
“Well, I heard they give the Nobel Prize . . . to people who are out standing in their field.”
Not my original work.
We decided that lunch in Paynesville seemed like a nice idea, we enjoy Paynesville there is always something happening on the water, and it’s a great place for a relaxing walk.
We usually go to a particular place, which I won’t name for fear of embarrassing them, because we know the fish is always well cooked and fresh, and they seem to be one of the few places that can get a “serve for 2” just right. And the coffee is always the best!
So into the shop we go, speak to the lovely lady behind the counter and she takes our order. She tells us it will be about 15 minutes, so we say we’ll go for a walk and come back. As we approach the door to leave, I overhear the same lovely lady say to someone else behind the counter “That’s for the older man and the girl in the long skirt”
Since we were the only two in the shop fitting that description, guessing she was talking about us! “Older man” and “girl” – I like that lady!!
Is it still correct to say “tip” or should it be something like Waste Disposal site? I don’t know, anyway, we had spent the day in the garden, trimming back bushes, lopping off dead branches and sweeping up leaves, leaving us with a lovely trailer load of green waste to be taken to the tip (waste recycle center?)
Having finished loading it all, we looked at the time and realised we did not have much time to get there before the tip closed. So we jumped in the car and took off!
We arrived in time at the tip, and after speaking with the attendant (who generally waves us through as he sees us so often!) we proceeded to the instructed area and backed the trailer up.
As we were finishing up, I jumped up into the trailer and started sweeping the last of the twigs and dirt out with the broom.
To set the scene, because we had been in the garden all day, I was wearing leggings and big T-Shirt over that, hair all messy as I had forgotten to tie it back before we started, and had quickly exchanged my work boots for thongs before we left home.
So there I am, sweeping out the trailer, and I observe another vehicle coming towards us, obviously intending to back in beside us. I jumped down out of the trailer and walked towards the car. As I got in the car, the “gentleman” in the approaching vehicle attracted my attention, and when I engaged with him, he said
“I was just watching you and thinking now there’s a tough old tart in her bare feet” (the thongs are flesh colored and I have since seen that they do in fact, from a distance, look like you have no shoes on)
I got such a shock! But could not be offended as he was smiling and laughing when he realised I did in fact, have shoes on!
“Well, thanks I think” I said! Not sure whether to laugh or cry!
Did I look a) old? Or b)like a tart?
Upon reflection I did think he was probably right! I did look like a tough old tart! My long grey hair not helping with the vision, blown all over the place by the wind!
So, dear man, if you are reading this, you know who you are – and you did take a big risk by saying what you did! I might well have been very offended! However, you conveyed your thoughts in such a funny and light hearted way, it would have been childish to be offended. Perhaps it was, in it’s own way, a compliment! At least, that’s the way I choose to take it.
We drove away laughing – and the sentence has found it’s way into family history – to be trotted out on numerous occasions for ever after! And unlike some of my other stories, this one is all true!
It’s 3am and I have a story in my head, just can’t seem to get it written!
Oh well! Get some sleep and maybe the story will formulate as I sleep.
Stay tuned, I’m sure there’s more!
It’s 8:30am on a Wednesday morning. I awake and immediately know that something good is in store for today. A moment to think – Oh yes! It’s Wednesday my day in town with “the girls” of the Knit for Charity group. This is always a fun afternoon, filled with deep discussions, some disagreements, some agreements, but always in the spirit of good friendship. We meet at the club, where the staff go out of their way to make us welcome, and we feel comfortable and “at home” there. So, looking forward to all that, I get out of bed, and head for the kitchen for my first coffee of the day. Incidentally, I’ve been cutting down on coffee, so this is my first of two coffees I allow myself for the day. Too much of a good thing and all that!
In happy anticipation I continue through my usual morning routine, having already chosen the outfit I plan to wear for the day, and looking forward to going out in my nice swishy long skirt and matching blue top. Must try to find a matching blue mask, I think as I look at the clothes. A navy one would go well, but I only have my butterfly ones or black ones, so choosing the butterfly one, I lay it with the rest of the outfit. Masks are here to stay I think to myself, not unhappily.
At the appointed time, I put on my lovely outfit, feeling feminine and nice, and hoping that it covers what a dear friend calls “the jiggly bits” which women my age seem to end up with no matter how hard we try! The mirror says I look fine, no jiggly bits in sight, so I smooth down the skirt and “swish” out of my room, feeling confident and content.
I am ready to leave, so I locate my husband who is working in the yard somewhere. I find him and present myself with the question “Does this look alright?” “What?” he replies squinting at me in the bright sunlight. “The outfit!” I say, not without a touch of frustration. “It’s perfect” he states, and I know for the umpteenth time, why I love him so much!
So having gained my husband’s critical approval, I get in the Ranger and head off to town.
I arrive early at the club, so I sit in the air conditioned comfort of the Ranger for a while, waiting to see any of the familiar cars arriving. I can see one of the girls are here already, and I see another driving into the car park, so I hop out and go through the hoops to get into the club. Val greets me cheerily at the front desk, and Christine takes my card and “swipes” me in. It’s nice to be known I think to myself, to feel that you belong.
As predicted one of the girls is already there, sitting at “our” traditional table. I stand chatting to her for a bit, then order my coffee and sit down at the table. The other girls arrive and gather round. Pleasant chit chat and catching up on news. We start our knitting, and sit comfortable together, other ladies in the club smile, or pass a comment, and we are all feeling really good.
I walk around to chat to some other friends sitting nearby, greet “our” waitress and stand chatting to her for a few seconds, before returning to the table,
As I sit down, I notice something! I am appalled! I am stunned! I have no idea what to do next!!
I have both my T Shirt AND my skirt on inside out! What to do?! Should I just point it out and laugh it off, try to sneak away to the bathroom and hope no one has noticed? I’ve been parading around the club with my clothes on inside out! How will I ever live it down.
I decide, based on that thought, not to alert the girls to my mistake, and so, hoping I can make it to the ladies room without anyone noticing, I excuse myself from the table and make a bee line for the ladies room. This entails walking across the whole club and through the café, eyes down hoping there is no one I know around that corner! Oh no! Things just got a whole lot worse!!
As I come around the corner, intent on getting to the bathroom as soon as possible, there, at the very last table, right before the corridor to the ladies room, is an ex-boyfriend whom I have not seen in a zillion years!
Now, a whole new dilemma! Should I pretend I don’t see him? Pretend I don’t recognise him? Press on past as though my life depends on getting to the ladies room?
So, here I am, clothes on inside out, feeling awfully flustered, and probably looking red and embarrassed, I decide to simply put my head down and not “see” anything but the floor. This plan works perfectly, right up until I am passing his table. “Hey Wendy” a familiar voice says “I knew you were living here, didn’t expect to see you though, what a nice surprise”
Well I think to myself, not quite the way one wants an ex-boyfriend to see one after all these years!!
With no other choice, I look up and smile weakly, feeling even more stupid than before, and even more embarrassed!
“Oh” I say “Hello” feeling silly that I cannot say more than that, but my brain has gone numb and has nothing to give me! We look at each other in silence, there seems nothing else to say at this point.
“Please excuse me” I blurt out and rush towards the saving door of the ladies room. It closes comfortably behind me, and I begin to breathe again, hanging onto the basin and telling myself it’s OK! He probably thinks I have some awful disease that makes me rush to the ladies room! I am covered in embarrassment and wonder how to deal with the situation from here on. Visions of how I looked when last he would remember seeing me – young, slim – hair down to my waist, jeans, shirt, leather jacket and boots is the vision that comes to mind! Bit different these days I think wryly!
I catch sight of myself in the mirror, clothes on inside out, hair all over the place (another dear friend says “boat hair, don’t care” when her hair is a mess, so that’s what I say to the woman starting back at me in the mirror. She agrees wholeheartedly!
I right my clothes, taking extra care to make sure I have it right this time! Yes seams to the inside now, should be all good! I survey the end result in the unforgiving mirror. “Well, that will have to do” I tell myself. “No leather, no jeans, no boots, and no hair down to my waist, but you got what you got”.
“Now walk out of here like nothing in this world can stop you, with all the confidence of a club manager. Hold your head up, tell him it was so nice to see him again, and go back to the safety of the circle of your friends. You are not the person he knew then, you are a grown woman, a grandmother now, so be proud.
As I finish admonishing myself in the mirror, a lady appears from one of the stalls, smiles at me as says “You go girl, you got this” I am again covered with embarrassment. I mutter thanks and head for the door, big deep breath and open! And there he is, still handsome after nearly 30 years! He looks up as I once again approach, since there is only one way to go and that is passed his table.
“We should have coffee sometimes” he says cheerily, and I fervently hope he didn’t notice my clothes the first time! “You look good” he adds. In that instant I wonder if he did notice?
I smile in return, say “thanks, yes we should” and move towards my friends, now happily knitting and chatting, with bursts of laughter as I approach. Are they laughing at me? No, someone has told a joke and they are all laughing heartily! How I enjoy their company, I think as I resume my seat at the table, hoping I look calm and confident and in control when I am feeling none of those things!
One of the girls leans across the table and says quietly to me “see you fixed your clothes” with an understanding smile, and I again think how blessed I am to have friends who don’t point out my faults and mistakes, but who “fix my crown without telling me it’s crooked”
Everyone should have such a circle of friends.
I pick up my knitting, smile and relax!
(This story is based partly on truth and largely on fiction. Sentiments with regard to friends is real. I hope you enjoyed reading it. Love Wendy)
Not my original
Include Your Children when Baking Cookies
Something Went Wrong in Jet Crash, Expert Says
Police Begin Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers
Safety Experts Say School Bus Passengers Should Be Belted
Drunk Gets Nine Months in Violin Case
Survivor of Siamese Twins Joins Parents
Iraqi Head Seeks Arms
British Left Waffles on Falkland Islands
Eye Drops Off Shelf
Teacher Strikes Idle Kids
President Wins on Budget, But More Lies Ahead
Enraged Cow Injures Farmer with Ax
Plane Too Close to Ground, Crash Probe Told
Miners Refuse to Work after Death
Juvenile Court to Try Shooting Defendant
Probably best to read your headline before printing!!
So, as those of you who know me well, I’m not a cook. I don’t like cooking particularly, but I am fond of the “gadgets” that can make the task easier. Enter subject #1
Now maybe I am slow, but for weeks I could not get how this gadget was supposed to work! I would go to the marvelous YouTube and locate an instructional video, watch it carefully, and go “Oh yes, I see” and open whatever can I was endeavoring to open without spilling all over myself!
Come the next time I wanted to use this same gadget, I would fuss and fret over it, and eventually in sheer frustration that I could not get how to use it yet again, I would go back to YouTube and watch again. As soon as I saw it, “Ah Yes, I remember now” and away I would go again.
Rinse and repeat many times!
Today, a breakthrough!! I got the gadget out of the drawer, opened the can, and I didn’t have to check how to use it!
Perseverance pays off it would seem!
Enter Subject #2
Now, everyone knows that Beetroot will spill! It does not matter how careful you are, or how much you take care NOT to spill it, it will spill. It’s just a fact of nature!
Well this marvelous little device SHOULD solve the problem! Alas, my “expertise” comes into play yet again.
I had, as you see, placed it carefully in the sink (so that if nature should strike I was well prepared) and upended the can (opened with Subject #1 with enormous success!) into the container. All good!! Feeling very pleased with myself that I had accomplished this feat of endurance, and confident that now the beetroot was safely contained, all was well.
HOW WRONG I WAS!!!
With all the confidence in the world, I grabbed the handle and lifted the now full container out of the sink!
Beetroot in all directions! The handle is apparently NOT for lifting the entire container (as you can see from the picture) it is so you can raise the beetroot and take some out! Now, for those of us who have this continued love/hate relationship with beetroot, you KNOW that beetroot juice will spread faster than a mouse plague, and will get itself into every little nook and cranny within a country mile of the spill. You will be finding it for months to come, even though you clean up the mess immediately. You WILL find tiny splashes of beetroot juice in the most extraordinary places! And I speak from multiple experiences in this regard!
So the conclusion? Gadgets are great, but won’t necessarily make your job any easier!
Stay with me for more adventures in my kitchen!
Today marked the end of a dream. Perhaps one that was fated to fail from the beginning. The dream was so big, and would have been a unique asset to the Gippsland Lakes, but high costs and mismanagement saw it flounder and die a long and painful death.
Perhaps there are many reasons why the project we all got so excited about failed, and I’m sure many reasons could be presented. But, the project’s end remains a mystery, with no one willing to stand up and explain what really happened. Name changes, and blocks on Facebook might suggest a far deeper problem than a surface glance might suggest.
Questions as to what happened to donated money, where do people who won raffles for a gala dinner or a free ride on Curlips maiden voyage stand. Were these prizes even legal, given that Curlip was out of the water sitting on hard stands on Slip Road at the time with little to no expectation that the prize could ever be redeemed. What has happened to the very expensive planks people purchased with their family names on, and what has been, or will be done, with the steam engine. Will it be sold to recover costs? No one stepped up to give answers to the many people who gave, not only time and money, but love, enthusiasm and commitment to the project. Those of us who worked to get the word out, via social media, about Curlip, who were told ‘We don’t want that’ . Those of us who put our names down as volunteers to help with the physical work on Curlip to be told ” only authorised and qualified people” can be on site, because of ‘safety issues”
So many unanswered questions, that will apparently stay unanswered.
Some of us dropped out for more personal reasons, no one likes to be dismissed. And some of us dropped out when we began to get the sneaking feeling that we were not being told the whole truth, and that questions regarding the handling of money left us feeling that maybe things were not quite as they seemed on the surface.
We deserve some explanation !