KerrieJean.com

Being the last born of  five lovely girls, I was privileged to spend one blissful year one-on-one with Gwennie before being thrown into the eddy of nun-generated frustration and madness that was St Joseph’s Primary School, Leeton.

But, what was to come was NEVER mentioned inside our cosy fibro fortress.

Instead, me and Gwennie’s routine took on its own gentle cholesterol driven rhythm: whip up a butter cake, have a cuppa, whip up a chocolate cake, have a cuppa, whip up a marble cake, have a cuppa…..repeat.

(cr: mat.teo.flickr)

But one (nine-egg marble cake with seven-egg frosting) day:

CRASH BANG…..CRASH!!!

Fearful that God had finally sent his only Son back to erase us, Gwennie grabs me and we’re hurtling onto the street – where a simultaneously grotesque and wondrous tableau confronts us.

The situation is thus. A semi-trailer carrying a precious cargo of our town’s famous fruit is CRASH BANG into a power pole.  And Acacia Avenue is fast turning into a sea of gold as millions of  perfect peaches tumble out the back of the twisted vehicle…..

……The truck door opens and a dazed man is stumbling through the peach avalanche. 

There’s a boy still in the cabin, he’s stuck, there’s a boy in there, he’s stuck……

By now, a throng of shocked motorists are all reporting that they thought they saw a bloody great sea of peaches comin’ at ‘em – only to be forced into emergency evasive action when it became clear there WAS a bloody great sea of peaches comin’ at ‘em.

Police, fire and ambulance heroes are soon in attendance.  They’ve established that yes, there is a boy in there and yes, he’s a bit stuck but otherwise okay.

Word travels fast that ambo Gazza - checking on ‘vitals’ - asked the boy who’s a bit stuck whether the Redlegs would avoid the wooden spoon next season. A young voice came back lightning fast: YEP!

There’s nothin’ wrong that boy, NOTHIN’ at all!!!

Soon work with state-of-the-art industrial life saving devices  (purchased from chook raffle proceeds) gets underway on behalf of the bit stuck but otherwise fine footy tipster prodigy.

Meanwhile, the truckie - who everyone agrees is usually a bloody good driver – is pacing up and down Acacia Avenue in a terrible state. He’s kicking peaches (no one should do that) dry retching and wringing his gnarled brown hands.

But Gwennie is on the case. Catching up with him she gently asks:

Would you like a cuppa?

The usually bloody good driver keeps kicking peaches, his face turns even paler and he’s shaking his head, staccato-style.

(Gwennie) Don’t worry too much sir - everyone’s saying you’re USUALLY a bloody good driver, looks like nothing’s going to blow up and the boy’s just a bit stuck…..but otherwise okay.

Soooooooo……….how about I pop back in, make a cuppa and THEN you can DECIDE FOR YOURSELF?

We leave the usually bloody good driver kicking peaches, eyes bulging and shaking, shaking, shaking his head.

Back in the kitchen, Gwennie -  hands also shaking - loads up the teapot, cups and saucers (the good ones) milk, cake and a 4lb packet of sugar onto her favourite ‘Celebrating 50 Years Of Irrigation’ enamel tray.

When we return, the usually bloody good driver’s condition has deteriorated. He’s stopped kicking peaches and is slumped on the nature strip.

But the news from the cabin is good. The boy who’s a bit stuck but otherwise okay is now stunning the emergency services fellas with sensational strategies for The Reddies.

Fireman Wazza, who’s attacking the truck with a big can opener, keeps the crowd up to date:

The boy says Hunt should be moved to the back pocket and he’s spot on, spot on. There’s nothin’ wrong with the boy. Coupla minutes and he’ll be out, OUT!!

I wouldn’t go as far as to say that the usually bloody good driver is enjoying his cup of tea (eight teaspoons of sugar) and five pieces of  10-egg butter cake with eight-egg frosting – but he’s hangin’ in….

What’ s the boy sayin’ about Hunt and the back pocket, what’s the boy sayin’ about Hunt and the back pocket…..?

Suddenly Gazza has news. The boy is NO longer a bit stuck. Quite the opposite. He’s mimicking nifty drop kicks, legs and arms clearly unstuck. He’s clearly okay.

The usually bloody good driver is a ball of raw emotion……

Thank God….Oooooh Shiiiiiiiit, Thank God…..Oooooooooh…….Shiiiiiit, Shiiiiiit, SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!

He carefully places his empty vessel on Gwennie’s tray.

Thanks for the cuppa….

(Gwennie) Anytime Sir. And good luck with rounding up those magnificent lucky peaches…..everyone’s saying they’re the best they’ve seen this season……EVERYONE. 

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Really want my new manager –  the amazing JIM –  to go for this story.

He says: Remember KJ, people crack up at this time of the year. GIVE ‘EM SOMETHING TO CLING TO……GIVE ‘EM NOTHING MORE – OR NOTHING LESS - THAN HOPE…..

So, to build on JIM’s  theme, isn’t it good when people look after each other?

Gwennie saw Malcolm T on the telly last night and concluded:  He looked like he’d been up bawling all night.

BUT, I don’t want you to get the impression she’s a saint because she wasn’t too concerned.

Love to hear from you – you CANNOT sit there and tell me you haven’t got any tea-based Australian stories. Perhaps The Rev Kev has news on coconut tea which – I’ve read – is all the rage in The Caribbean.

And if tea isn’t doing it for you, don’t worry. You know the rule: ALL report backs are valid in here…..absolutely valid.

THE GINGER MAN

Great news! As you all know, TGM’s been a bit stuck on his sick bed but is now emerging, FULL of ideas for the future.

Lord Ginge likes his tea avec Absinthe. The Chief Monk and Nurse Try Do have spent the last ten days trying to evade hospital security cameras -  NOT as easy task when you’ve got a Woolies trolley chock-a-block with the hardest liquor of them all on your person….

*For folks coming across TGM for the first time, three things you should know.

* He ’s our Passion-Aggressive Adventurer. *He’s ex Trinity College, ex Bletchley Park. *He been everywhere but loves Leeton best of all. Access to Lord Ginge - who continually files - is via our comments section.

******ALL correspondents  just take a deep breath and  go for it!!

Just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo – just ignore .

****STOP PRESS: Dr Andrew Whatham – Leeton High School alumni – IS the 2009 ‘The Einstein Factor’ Grand Champ!

In the meantime…..Hellooooooo everybody!

Can a week get any bigger than this…?

The release of  Kerrie Jean’s Home Companion: Part 2 (RN YouTube link further down the page) and Leeton’s smartest export ever in the Grand Final of The Einstein Factor.

His name is Andrew Whatham – ex-Leeton High School. Tonight at 6:30pm (ABC 1) he’ll prove – for once and for all – that soaring soil salinity levels and continual crop dusting with chemicals with lots of  numbers in their names does NOT affect brain power….quite the opposite!

Now though, some not so good news….

I have heard from our passion-aggressive adventurer, The Ginger Man. Our dear Lord Ginge is not well. He’s been bought low by a mystery malady involving pains and terrible fatigue. The Chief Monk and Nurse Try Do are in attendance. I think I can speak for you all in saying: Lord Ginge, God Bless you and please get better soon. We love ya, yes we do……

* Kerrie Jean’s Home Companion: Part Two.

All I can say is that life with my new manager Jim IS amazing - CRACKERJACK!

Jim’s UNSTOPPABLE!

From dawn to dusk, he’s running all over town talking to media heavies……have you heard of KJ, have you heard of KJ, HAVE YOU heard of KJ?

No, no, no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no,no….etc.

Well, my friend, YOU HAVE NOW!!!!!

*Jim proceeds to leave a showbag of publicity products: CD’s of KJ reading the news during the Falklands War,  replicas of KJ’s Leeton High School prefect’s badge, photographs of former defactos who are now famous, empty (signed) botox syringes…AND a copy of  Kerrie Jean’s Home Companion: Part Two.

If this won’t get ‘em calling back KJ, my name’s NOT Jim……

Time for you to to have a look and see whether you agree with Jim.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HttKIois070

*For those who didn’t hear THAT fateful first phone call constituting Kerrie Jean’s Home Companion Part One…….

Comments still treasured. Perhaps a little Get Well message for Lord Ginge…?

******ALL correspondents  just take a deep breath and  go for it!!

Just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo – just ignore .

As you’ve NO doubt heard I have a new manager……

He’s young, he’s a ‘can do’ man, he presents very nicely, he was born in the same year The Wall came down….AND his name is Jim.

Last time you came across Jim, you were hearing our very first phone call.

Well, there’s been oodles since then:

KJ, stick with me and you’ll be wearin’ diamonds….

KJ, you’re a late-breaking IT girl…..

KJ, promoting you is like hockin’ tissues in the flu season….easypeasy, easy, EASY…

So, a little sneak preview of what happened at a busy city Sony Store when me and Jim met to make a RADIO NATIONAL promo…

And Jim even insisted we make a promo of the promo….HOW AMAZING IS THAT?!!

It’s the latest thing KJ….. a promo of a promo…..it’s a new and exciting type of what’s called viral marketing…..

(I told Jim that that viral thingo sounded very powerful and he just nodded and smiled…)

Now,  sit back and enjoy the Promo of our Promo: 

*Just click on this and look to the right of the screen. Scroll down until you see me and Jim. Click on same. It’s easy and FREE!

http://www.youtube.com/abcradionational

*For those who didn’t hear THAT fateful first phone call constituting Kerrie Jean’s Home Companion Part One…….

(click ‘ere to eavesdrop)

* The FULL ‘Kerrie Jean’s Home Companion’: Part Two in here soon.

(Produced by Eurydice Arony & James Shepherd)

You can still comment…..go on!

******ALL correspondents  just take a deep breath and  go for it!!

Just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo – just ignore .

KERRIE JEAN’S HOME COMPANION: PART ONE

Gosh!

AMAZING what can happen when you’re quietly going about your business – NOT exactly setting the world on fire but then again, NOT being consciously malicious by grabbing some poor idiot’s job, PIN, passport or boyfriend………..

Let me put it like this: I am a victimless crime and that is enough for me………

Or so I thought……

Because, on Friday, at my desk……Ring, ring, ring.

I NEVER pick-up because nine times outta ten it’s someone with a story idea or a family member reminding me that Christmas is on the 25th of December and I’d better tell them RIGHT now: SEAFOOD or TRADITIONAL……

This time though (paralysed with boredom) I did answer.

Silly me. Or a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?

YOU BE THE JUDGE…..

(click ‘ere to eavesdrop)

WOW!

Talk about cool and collected. BUT three minutes later, I was straight back to Jim.

Meet me now, meet me now, now, now, NOW.  Just so I know I’m NOT dreaming……..

Below, enlarged pictorial evidence of me and Jim at the coffee shop. I impressed Jim enormously and Jim, I suspect, left feeling on top of the world.

Oh Boy –  from victimless crime to me, me, ME  crime spree –  all in the space of 45 glorious minutes!

(credit: Tracey Trompf)

SO WHAT HAPPENED AT THE SONY SHOP?

SEE IT, HEAR IT, FEEL IT…………..

KERRIE JEAN’S HOME COMPANION  – Part TWO – coming to this site soon!

(Producer: Eurydice Aroney & James Shepherd)

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Well, well, well…..it’s NOT all about ME, ya know. Still, to tell ya the truth, I’m very nervy about the whole thingo. Feel like a struggling business with a big sign out the front: UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT. Any advice?  No need to go overboard, really there’s NO need for that.

ON the subject of YOU, please report in and take the pressure of ME. How are ya all? I’m hoping for ’safe and well’ but until you report in, who knows? I certainly don’t and neither does the world……

THE GINGER MAN

Just what to report first……?

Lord Ginge – who’s NOT under new management – has, what we say in the business, spilled over.

He’s still in Leeton with Peter O’Toole trying to make a film. Working title:

The Cleft Stick Man Versus Planet Of The Apes Living Dead and Z-Man The Zombie.

Last night, Lord Ginge cemented his Passion-Aggressive Aventurer credentials when he - NO suprises here - smashed the world record for the most storytelling blog posts over two hours. I ask you: Has anyone ever seen the likes of it!?

For folks new to kerriejean.com The Ginger Man (ex-Trinity College, ex- Bletchley Park) always operates out of our comments section.

Trust me – in all of my years in the business - I’ve never come across anything remotely like it.

Think human telex machine mixed with the life experiences of General Peter Cosgrove and Elizabeth Taylor combined.

******ALL correspondents  just take a deep breath and  go for it!!

Just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo – just ignore .

The Riverina wheat harvest…….bountiful, relentless toil by strong men with the joys and disappointments of working an unforgiving land etched in their faces……

Pretty women in floral bubble skirts running and dancing in the fields, delivering wicker baskets of devon sandwiches to these same men – God Is Good, God Is VERY Good and he just keeps giving!

……Fathers and sons singing traditional songs long into the night, as they drive their giant John Deere harvesters even harder: Up there Cazaly, in there and fight, out there and at ‘em, show ‘em your might…..

But sometimes, God CANNOT remain Good…. 

Quite the contrary. He gets furious. 

For yet again, reports are flooding in of Leeton folk committing mortal sins of a gross nature: fornicating with cousins – thrice removed – wantonly switching allegiances from Australian Football to League, rorting  irrigation allocations, having (by far) the largest bundy and coke alcopop per capita consumption in the land……… 

So He looks down and decrees: SEND IN THE HARVEST MICE!

(cr:clocker:flickr)

When I was youngeth, there was ONE mice plague which dwarfed all other.

A plague so gross that Leeton morphed into ONE big mouse with people and houses riding on the back of it.

So, at our place, Hec  – who’s always very bad but cannot, just CANNOT give God a guarantee that things will change -  declares WAR.

A Man CAN’T take any more of this (mouse lands on head).

……A Man’ll have bugger all left if THIS continues (mouse jumps into beer).

Kids, wear ya bed socks,  word is they’re eatin’ chooks’ feet right off,  RIGHT OFF (mouse skips across head, hits TV set, ricochets back into fresh beer).

Gwennie, NO food, NO eatin’  in THIS joint until I get things under control…..(Yes Hector)…….(mouse with arrowroot biscuit in mouth swings from light fitting, lands in cupboard: attacks vegemite).

Heavy artillery rolls out of the boot of the Holden:  two hundred mouse traps and a 35 lb block of cheddar.

In the evening –  just after ‘This Day Tonight’ and just before ‘My Names McGooley, What’s Yours?’ – Trapper Hec declares: 

There’s work to be done!

Our house is rendered one big booby mouse trap.  And Trapper Hec – always the perfectionist - leaves nothing to chance: carefully placing loaded devices at intervals of  precisely nine inches. Immediately, they’re going off:

Bang clappa bang, bang clappa bang, bang clappa bang, bang clappa bang…

Blood curdling  squeals mock the still of the night.

Bindi-Boo-Major – already the most foul tempered family pet in the Riverina - is the first casuality. He’s hit a mouse landmine and a combination of shock and fury propels him into one of his signature frenzies.

Everyone knows NOT to approach Bindi-Boo-Major.

From the back of his throat,  his  ‘come near me and I’ll kill you’ urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh….

Trapper Hec keeps his cool:  Don’t worry, he’s outta the trap, he’s outta the bloody trap…..he’s okay…..

urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh..

Everbody stand back, let a dog have his space:

urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh…

Gwennie take the kids to the sleep-out please, off ya go, off ya go:

urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh…. 

By now, Bindi-Boo-Major has regained his equilibrium. Cold, hard revenge is on his mind: 

urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh, urrrrgggh….

He’s showing off.  Skipping through the mouse traps, showing his self-preservation instincts. Darting here, darting there – letting off dozens and dozens of traps with great precision:

Bang clappa bang, bang clappa bang, bang clappa bang, bang clappa bang….

Bindi-Boo-Major’s insolence finally flickers and dies in the sleep-out as the last of Trapper Hec’s devices is rendered safe.

With the timing and agility of a one-time boxer, Trapper Hec approaches Bindi-Boo-Major. He’s shadow boxing with an exhausted dog:

Trapper Hec turns to his loved ones – still huddled in the corner. Points to Bindi-Boo-Major:

You want vermin, you want  vermin? THIS is vermin, THIS IS VERMIN. Tie him up, someone go and tie him up….. NOW please……right NOW please!

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*Can’t wait to hear from you. BIG themes this week: pestilence, resilience, what it means to be a Man, what it means to be only half a one…..if God is Good, why does he let patently NOT good things happen?…..and anything else that takes your fancy.  How are things at your place? 

Love to know if they’re in good shape or quite the opposite. In kerriejean.com, everything’s valid so have a go.

 New posters not only welcomed, treasured.

THE GINGER MAN

He’s all outta love this week – but that hasn’t stopped him…….

Contemporary Cleft Stick: cr:sunrise seven: flickr

His brand new ‘The Cleft Stick Chronicles’ kick off (as usual) in our comments section.

I often ask myself: What makes The Ginger Man Run?

Answer? Dunno but I’m sure glad he does!

For folks new to Lord Ginge, he’s our Passion-Aggressive Adventurer. Make where he goes YOUR business. He came in here via Trinity College and Bletchley Park. Impeccable credentials for an impeccable storyteller.

Enjoy Lord Ginge before ‘The New Statesman’ comes along with $US and swipes him…….

******ALL correspondents  just take a deep breath and  go for it!! 

Just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo – just ignore it

I still wish I didn’t go to the school formal that night…..

But you would’ve too – if you’d been in my position.

I’m looking at one* special letter from long ago. (*I have hundreds but don’t worry all you other boys, you will be quoted at later dates, you most surely will……)

My special letter reads: 

Dear Kerrie Jean,

I know it’s late but I’m asking you to the Yanco Agricultural High School Formal because I know no-one else has. 

Dear Mr Flatterer,
Lots of boys have already asked me but I DON’T know who they are. When I get upset about this, Gwennie  says that some idiot’s been nicking our mail.  So - because of this terrible situation - I guess I will at least have to start the evening with you. KJ.

And so you find me on a bus delivering an order of exactly 40 girls for exactly 40 YAHS boys. A terrible 10 kilometre journey. Soooooo dangerous. It’s a wonder anyone arrives alive considering the explosive quantities of hair spray, perfume (not cheap, middling)  and sisterly spirit in the air.

So….you DID eventually get invited KJ? Who? When? WHY?

Meanwhile, our bus driver, Des (Leeton Redlegs hero, VFL recruit) has his own challenges: trying to park and stop 40 desperate, marauding University Shield (rugby league) champions storming his vehicle.

Get away from the bloody bus. THEY’LL be out soon.  Haven’t ya seen a girl before….?

Soon enough, girls are pouring out of Des’s Chariot Of Romance. Falling into arms of beaus. Think 1945 - troop carrier berthing.  Much lunging, tongueing, ear nibbling, bum tweaking, tie pulling…

Not KJ though. Just off to the side of the bus she’s plonked on the grass, shaking.  Des and The Flatterer are in attendance:

You all right KJ? You all right? What the Bloody Hell Happened?

What the Bloody Hell Happened was that KJ caught her (height – nine-inches, diameter – too small to measure) heel in a grate over a drain.  Broke off.  Went arse over head.

Mr Flattery does what any Man would do.

Yanks me up, yanks me – in my stockinged feet - into the Hall Of Romance and yanks me onto the dance floor where something VERY confronting is underway: Yanco Agricultural High School’s Annual Mass Pashathon. (They Shoot Pashers Don’t They?)

Young men and women are pushing their pashing capabilities to the limit. Tongue fights break out, teeth are displaced, girls’ faces morph into those of eighty-year-olds as emergency suction strategies fail. But still they will not, CANNOT stop.

Mr Flattery gives me NO warning that we are about to enter the competition.  One second I’m thinking: How disgusting is this?  And the next, a big contorted face is coming straight at me.

But Mr Flattery’s not good enough for competitive pashing – nowhere near……

 The Last Thing I Saw (cr: timballas:flickr)

His nerves are getting  the better of him. He’s bungling his approach.

At great speed, he’s lodged his teeth FIRMLY into my upper lip. He’s panicking. Doesn’t know what he’s doing. He bites down - HARD.

I am stumbling (in my stockinged feet) out of the Mass Pash.

Mr Flattery is trying to stem the flow of blood with his hankie. In shock,  I am feeling my way to the bathroom. I am grabbing roll after roll of toilet paper to stem the blood flow.  

The first eliminee from They Shoot Pashers Don’t They? arrives huffing and puffing, obviously miffed.

Shane CAN’T do the triple tongue twist with the love bite pike, he just CAAAAN’T.  Shit, what’s happened to you KJ?

(Remove six-inch thick toilet paper wad) FAR OUT, FAR OUT!!  (Eliminee quickly leaves, bangs door).

Meanwhile, my cut lip is getting bigger and bigger and bigger and more and more and more painful…..

I am returning to the Mash Pash with a lip wedged firmly under my nose.

Mr Flattery is shocked. NO WAY! NO WAY!  (And believe me, there’s no way he’s going to see his biggest night of the year out with the biggest lip of the century).

I am outside stumbling to a bench where I sit looking up - through my lip - at the November night sky. 

A sky that only the Riverina can bung on - cloudless with a million stars dropping by:  Everything all right here KJ?

My friends the stars, I should have stayed at home with Gwennie for I have been Lipped….

Give us a little look KJ……

I pointed face squarely to the wide sky.

Oh, oh, oh….poor KJ, we’ve shone on millions of school formals but we’ve never seen anything like this.  By the way, what WILL Gwennie say?

Gwennie said:  

Oh sweetie, sweetheart….

But  - the reality is - what could we expect, what could we expect? After all, those boys’ parents are all Country Party voters, they ALL vote Country Party…..what could we expect?

* WARNING:  We are all on high BIG LIP alert tomorrow – Melbourne Cup Day.

You’ve got NO idea how many people present to Emergency  Departments with big (and getting bigger) lips. They’ve all bitten down hard on their own lips in the final stages of the race. 

Just being aware of the possibility is the first step to prevention.

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***THE GINGER MAN***   

cr: siansparkles:flickr

TGM is off again! He’s heading in my favourite direction, RIVERINA bound!  Off to The Chief Monk’s spiritual seat, the Monasterie Al Gundagai.

Lord Ginge is in a contemplative mood – he gets like this sometimes – don’t we all?

The Ginger Man’s new ’The Riverina Girl Chronicles’ will unfold (as usual) in our comments section.

For folks new to kerriejean.com….just recline and enjoy the TGM journey. He’s our Passion-Aggressive resident adventurer who’s come to us (Thank God!) via Bletchley Park and Trinity College.  His entourage includes The Chief Monk and the good and kind Try Do.

Trust me – you’ll love TGM. I know I do!

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So, a big week all round in kerriejean.com

* Looking forward to hearing from you – life does go on and our comments section is testament to that.  Have you had to retire from love because of injury?  Why can’t boys kiss straight?  Do you enjoy office Melbourne Cup parties or just turn up because you’re a crawler? What’s happening (or not happening) around at your place?

*Congratulations to the new posters of late who’ve come in here and immediately felt very at home.

******ALL correspondents  just take a deep breath and  go for it!! 

Just click on the ‘comment’ thingo and follow the simple instructions. The place to write your gems is at the bottom of the last published comment. *A little bit of counsel for people new to this caper. Your email (just called ‘mail’ in this case) address does NOT come up on site. And just ignore the URL thingo – just ignore it.