You WOULD Like A Cuppa…..
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.
*********************************************
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 .
Comment of the Week
November 30th, 2009 at 7:45 am
Said Malcolm T to Nurse Try Do:
Get me hot water and tea bags – and PLENTY OF IT!
November 30th, 2009 at 7:49 am
Thank you for your kind messages. The synapses are in overdrive.
There is something about the current situation that brings to mind ‘Tune in Tomorrow’ – the film, Aunt Julia and the Scriptwriter.
I love her Father.
Of course, you love your Sister, son.
I love her Father, but not as a Sister but as a Woman!
During my convalescence (it is NOT a nervy KJ) perhaps you could try your hands at a few scripts.
In the little town of Leeton, the radio audience was addicted to Portia Faces Life and similar soapies, but the station manager was tired of buying scripts by weight.
The arrival of a new professional scriptwriter, an itinerant who has been driven from every town in which he has had a gig, captures the imagination of every local.
The professional relationship of Aunt Kerrie Jean and Jim, a tyro writer, adds spice to the plot.
[I have asked Peter Falk to fly into Leeton to offer his artistic advice.]
http://www.flixster.com/movie/tune-in-tomorrow
Good to be back……
November 30th, 2009 at 8:35 am
Hi KJ,
The Rev Kev’s been keeping his head down recently. He thinks the other side is doing such a fantastic job that – out of the deepest respect – it’s only proper that he does something entirely uncharacteristic: keeps his mouth tightly shut.
As a very wise man once said: The Almighty works in exceeding strange and wondrous ways.
God Save Australia,
The Rev Kev.
PS: Congratulations on the tea blog – wonderful timing for the Government’s Sensible Drinking Over Christmas Campaign. I had an alcoholic beverage once, and it only got me into trouble.
The Rev Kev,
WRONG! Following that episode with the NY pole dancer (who may – or may not have been – in a Santa suit) you said: ‘I have only been drunk in my life TWICE…’
So – NO time for complacency. If the electorate CANNOT trust you on this simple matter……who knows, who knows?
KJ.
November 30th, 2009 at 1:44 pm
Dear Miss KJ,
As a life long Liberal I just absolutely must say that at the weekend I saw one of the most exciting sights I’ve ever seen in this Big Brown land – Tony Abbott with his shirt off.
Usually when looking at Tony I find my eyes drawn to his remarkable ears that appear to keep on growing. But, with the news footage of him stripped to the waist, my peepers went straight to his six pack.
Girls – I know who’s got my vote, even if the world is ending.
Yours hot and very excited,
Libby Pearls.
Libby Pearls,
There were two things WRONG with what I saw of Tony in the news clip.
*A middle-aged man desporting himself in speedos and *ANY man sporting one of those silly surf lifesavers’ caps. Pray tell….of what use is an Easter bonnet when I’M BEING CIRCLED BY A SHARK?
Yours cold and flat, KJ.
November 30th, 2009 at 4:13 pm
Came Down Stairs As An Act Of Courage…
Saw the post about Mr Abbott being semi-naked.
Made me feel a bit off.
Movember going well but no sponsors as yet….
Back upstairs to the man-eatin’ doona (where the climate NEVER changes).
Dear The Knuckle,
I’ve just done my sums – they show that Movember has about 8 hours to run. Let’s just hope that YOUR prostate won’t ever need funding. KJ.
November 30th, 2009 at 7:21 pm
Prostates need exercise, KJ.
Dear The Knuckle,
As an Act Of Courage I’ll say: ‘I know…..’
KJ.
December 1st, 2009 at 9:05 am
Omigod KJ – is this what happens when a strong man takes his shirt off in public?
Dear Libby Pearls,
Word is that Mr Joe Hockey arrived in the Party Room with NOT a stitch on. He began his speech: ‘I stand before you naked….’
And that was that….KJ.
December 1st, 2009 at 11:59 am
Stand by for a DOUBLE-DISILLUSION election.
December 1st, 2009 at 12:35 pm
Hi KJ,
Had a lovely cuppa this morning watching Abbott’s presser. I was intrigued to note that Tony presented himself as The Great Healer – we all had a good laugh about that one, but then some young smarty pants in the office said how good this result would be for The Rev Kev.
Between you and I KJ, I’m not so sure about this because now the Libs have had their fun there’s a real danger one of your journalistic friends might actually ask me to explain our ETS policy.
AND frankly KJ, I dread that moment because really like the rest of the nation I havn’t a clue how it will work!
Any chance of another Lib leadership struggle before tea time?
Anyone seen Bill Heffernan?
God Bless Australia,
The Rev Kev.
Dear The Rev Kev,
Funny you should ask about Bill H. As you know, he comes from down my way – Junee. He was last seen in the Telstra Shop in Wagga trying to find ’something’ he’d be able to start twatting on.
‘Gotta keep up with things,’ he told the young assistant.
NOW, this is your major problem. Looks like you may have to front an election campaign very soon. Which means NO trips to have your photo taken with other statesmen who are also buggering up THEIR ETS’s.
INSTEAD, it’s six weeks of running around THIS boring country. Yes, it’s back to donning those hard and net hats to meet ordinary working people on building sites and in cheese factories. Yuk!
Now, onto Denmark….
It has become clear today that you my ‘friend of the chair’ WILL NOT be able to stand before the 456,789 delegates and say: I AM THE REV KEV FROM THE BIG COUNTRY THAT GAVE THIS LITTLE COUNTRY THE BEAUTIFUL MARY DONALDSON AND WE HAVE A GREAT LITTLE ETS. BEAT THAT!
So…..tell the truth……just how cranky are ya?
KJ.
December 1st, 2009 at 4:26 pm
Dear Miss KJ
Carnt understand what’s happened to the Libs – since when was it ok for the Church of England at Prayer – sorry the party of Ming and old Easter Island face – to be run by Catholics – for Godsake?!
At times like this, when I’m distressed I generally go to the Royals – tonight I’ll be setling down in front of the TV with a good bottle of Scotch and remembering Kanga.
God Save the Queen, for I fear nothing will save you know who…….
The Old Carnt.
Dear The Old Carnt,
Poor ole Kanga. I think Prince Charles loved her a lot but couldn’t bear the thought of coming to Australia to meet her folks.
On the matter of THREE Catholics battling it out for the right to lose the next election – didn’t surprise me. Catholics will go for anything – ANY time, ANY place….KJ.