KerrieJean.com

Dateline: 26/12.1010: Leeton, NSW, Murrumbigee Irrigation Area, Murray-Darling Basin, Australia, The Pacific Rim.

Christmas has come and gone in a puff of trifle……

Gorgeous day considering what my local chronicle, ‘The Irrigator’, was reporting in it’s ’Peace & Goodwill To All’ edition.

It’s official.

My hometown is dangerous and chaotic – a God forsaken place where cruel nature and filthy politics have converged in a Perfect Mortein Storm……

To be brutally honest, I cannot guarantee I will be leaving here in one piece.

May I summarise the ‘The Irrigator’s’ Christmas Eve front page?

(1) There is a fruit fly plague of unprecented proportions.

The fruit fly [Fruitius Flyoffius Extremis] are as a big as guinea pigs and are swallowing peaches from backyard trees in one gulp.

The town is bathed in a low, thick cloud of Mortein.

Authorities are telling townsfolk Mortein is of no use against Fruitius Flyoffius Extremis. To no avail. In crisises, people want to, have to feel they’re doing something.

And they are: altering their gene pool forever.

(2) The first rain here for 10 years has brought with it more prestilence: Mossius Buzzoffius Extremis.

Have you ever heard of Barmah Fever?

Probably not.

And neither had I until December 24th……

…..When ‘The Irrigator’ warned that if just one Mossie Extremis gets through an innocent’s Mortein Armour, Barmah Fever will strike them down in an agonising combination of scourges – itchy scalp, full body 24-hour sweats, delusions of grandeur and, most terrifying of all, atrophy in the genital region.

Please God let me leave this place Barmah Fever free.

(3) The road between Wagga and Narrandera has been re-opened after the floods.

This has caused enormous problems for ex-Leetonites who’d  been promising loved ones they’d be back  for Christmas ‘if the road is open’ [which was looking very unlikely] 

Imagine their distress when mum or dad rang up:

‘Good news Rodney, the road’s all clear! We’ll be seeing you and Trish and the kids late Friday – can’t wait…….just can’t wait……’

Still, life goes on.

But only because country people are very resilient, very Mortein and Aeroguard resistant.

Another big take home message from around town:

You touch our water allocations and we’ll get bootloads of Fruitius Flyoffius and Mossius Buzzoffius Extremis – and dump ‘em right on the sails of the Opera House.

So there.

*Must say I thought it was a little OTT when a local hairdresser’s window carried this threat:

‘No Basin Cuts!’  [More Murray-Darling Basin angst....]

Well, well, well……

I vote. I pay my taxes. I generally stay within the law.

And if I want a basin cut, I expect you’d respect my inalienable right to get one!

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So, hope all is well in your patch. At least not as scary as it is here. I feel so inadequate. While people are running around selling fundraising raffle tickets for ’weekends for two ‘ in Barmah fever -free caravan parks, I am strangely immobilised.

Fear does that.

And so does two kilos of trifle, a side of pork, two trays of reindeer crackling – and, oh yes, cheeky libations: source unknown.

Do report in – your hopes and your dreams – your reality – is important to me and the nation. It’s free – it’s easy. Do it by…….

Just clicking on the ‘comment’ thingo and following 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.

So here I am……….

Chasing a star, speeding towards a small stabling facility out the back of nowhere and grabbing trinkets off the shelves of Seven-Eleven stores [knew you'd like it, just knew you would!] 

Oh dear……..

But still, I’ll let you into a little secret: I’m crazy about Christmas – always have been, always will be……

It makes me feel alive, which is amazing considering the litany of ‘tricky, tricky, tricky’ episodes that have marked 2010.

And trust me, I will tell you about the trickiest of those ’tricky, tricky, trickys’ at a later date.  

But quite frankly, I’m not going to ‘waste’ them at present. Even I know they pale into insignificance [just] if put up against an impending assisted Virgin Birth.

I know what a big story is……

And I can tell you a Virgin Birth is going to lead the seven o’clock news – and the 7:30 Report, with or without Mister O’Brien.   

So, this Christmas I am turning my efforts to things literary, things metaphoric….

I am currently penning a short story called: ‘The Christmas Prawns’.

[Trad Xmas Game: Prawn Roulette: Cr: National US Archives: flickr]

‘The Christmas Prawns’ is about loved ones gathered at a Christmas luncheon table in a small inland town.

Prawns and this town are not comfortable bedmates……

 …..This town where December temps propel local climate change activists’ knickers into terrible knots which makes things ever more uncomfortable ….

……This town which is so far away from Source Of Prawns, they’re hauled in in armoured ice trucks manned by Special Prawn Guards………

….This town in which the ‘Prawn As Christmas Luncheon Centrepiece’ is a relatively new mantra.

The intro to ‘The Christmas Prawns’ says:

 ’All families love prawns, they just love them in their own way.’

For our family, Christmas Prawns are taken DIY style – everybody is removing those pesky digestive tracts at the table.

Festivities continue…….

But at 4pm, it starts. Mass queasiness, followed by unspeakable bodily evacuations.

‘The Christmas Prawns’ centres on just who will take responsibility for the shocking turn of events.

Who set the fridge temp?

Did the Prawn Purchaser transport the Prawns in the boot of their car?

Who assembled  The Prawn Platter?

Were rubber gloves provided?/if so, were they used?

How long was The Prawn Platter on the bench after assemblage?

In ‘The Christmas Prawns’, there are no answers.

I simply leave our fragile family on Boxing Day quietly coming to terms with the Christmas Prawns Fiasco.

This year, I want you to see The Off Prawn as a powerful metaphor for your family’s celebrations.

If something terrible happens, it is no one’s fault.

……..Just a intricate web of small oversights……

Culminating in a fully-blown traditional Yuletide Disaster.

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So, Merry Christmas……..

But, you will hear from me briefly before then – because on Wednesday I’ll be flying Air Valium to a small inland town very far away from the Source Of Prawn.

And I am very much looking forward to having a good sniff of  my prawns pre-injestion come Christmas Day.

In the meantime, do you think the ‘Off’ Prawn metaphor is a good one for family life?

I hope so because ‘The Christmas Prawns’ is nearly finished and I’ve squeezed out every last drop of my creative juices on it, I really have…..

Another thing – as per tradition - here’s a little link to the Christmas song which I recorded with the musical genius, Big Swifty, a couple of Christmases ago. 

 

[Big Swifty: We coulda been big! ]

 *Everybody said Big Swifty did a great job but they weren’t backwards in coming forward to offer this opinion:  KJ, you can’t sing!

click-to-hear-They’re-Your-Bloody-Family

Isn’t that mean?

 Next thing, the same people will be telling me ‘The Christmas Prawns’ doesn’t work, just does NOT work as a piece of literature.

Big deal!

Please report in – it’s free, easy - and it’ll really calm my nerves before Air Valium tries to take off  on Wednesday. Do the humane thing by:

Just clicking on the ‘comment’ thingo and following 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.

Best that I tell you……before WikiLeaks does.

So……Saturday was supposed to herald my big glam event in the on-going glam saga that is 2010.

It was to be fun and sophisticated: it was to be the official de-popping and sip, sip sipping of the hard-earned results ($20 each x 12 months = $480) of a two-member Christmas Club: dear friends united in a quest to try before they die the rare bubbles which are Cristal Champagne.

[cr: geishaboy500: flickr]

Cristal – Cristaaallle for those in the know – was made by the French ‘passion pop maker to the stars’, Monsieur Louis Roederer.

He had an exclusive contract with the last Emperor of Russia, Tsar Nicholas 11, who was very demanding about his bubbly requirements.

Astonishingly, the pesky Nick decreed that his Cristal come  in a heavy, flat-bottomed clear bottle so scary detractors couldn’t put a bomb in the usual indentation.

[I'd be checking that cheap stuff at your Chrissy luncheon table, I really would....]

So….our modern day Cristal Chrissy Club convenes…..

I’m feeling good…..

…..If not a little concerned that the high tensile side seams on last Summer’s prize purchase - a nifty strappy number -  are being stretched way beyond manufacturer’s specifications.

Cristal Chrissy Club member # 1 is smiling as she reaches into the silver ice bucket. She carefully lifts the Cristal.

Pop, pop…….

We both agree that the Pop is a mysterious melodic pop, the likes of which we’ve never heard before.

Oh, did tell you?

On the white linen cloth, there’s also eight dozen freshly shucked oysters………..

As Cristal Chrissy Club member #1 attends to her special pouring duties, I (forgive me) am slurping molluscs at a disgusting rate.

Pausing only accept my Cristal.

Cristal Chrissy Club member # 1’s face turns ashen:

‘KJ, you’ve got blood all over your mouth. Blood! You’re scaring me…..’

 I can confirm that Cristal Chrissy Club member #1’s  journalistic powers of observation remain top shelf.

For I am the victim of a mollusc shell lower facial inside-upper- lip injury.

Blood sprews forth….

I am stumbling to the bathroom……

……Then emerging with a giant wad of toilet tissue lodged in my mouth – biting down hard.

I am calling for a straw.

I am drinking Cristal through a straw…….

‘What do you think of it?’ says Cristal Chrissie Club member #1.

‘Everything’s comin’ up shiraz here, everything’s comin up shiraz……’

All in all, a fantastic day.

And….in historical terms, spot on.

As Cristal Chrissy Club member #1 reminded me:

‘A fair few Russian Royals were haemophiliacs KJ……..quite a few….’

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So, how are we all on another fine dayin the history of us…….

Was I wrong  – as a child of the Riverina bulk wine growing region – to seek the finer things of life?

Was I wrong to think I’d find happiness in the flat bottom of a $300 bottle of plonk?

Have you ever sustained an at-table injury?

When you feel like giving up, what do you do?  Pray or get into an embryonic possie under your desk? [Whence this missive comes from]

Do report in – it’s easy. And it costs nowt.  Do join the conversation by:

Just clicking on the ‘comment’ thingo and following 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.

Quelle horreur……

What to give those pesky loved ones for Chrissy when they [as they keep shouting to the world] apparently have everything’?

And when I say ‘everything’ I mean EVERYTHING…….

……Irritating personalities, nauseating insignificant others, 17 investment properties [18 if you count the paramilitary training camp in Costa Rica] and goddamnit, what appears to be percolating contentment, if not the cheap thrill that masquerades as happiness…….

What to give ‘em?

I know exactly……

I hereby declare Christmas 2010 as:

 ’The Year Of Giving Folks With EVERYTHING A Big Kick Up The Bum’.

[Xmas Shopping: State Library NSW. Cr: flickr]

It’s gunna be fantastic……..

Do start making those [usually tedious] now thrilling phone calls right away…..

Here’s your script. And do not deviate from it for maximum effect.

You: Good tidings! 

……It’s your unacceptable sister/ good time brother/selfish daughter/crazy n’er do well son/creepy cousin 34 times removed/hero who saved you from having a grostesque full head perm in 1982……..

And what, dear one, would you like for Chrissy?

Whoever: Thank you for asking but it just so happens that I have EVERYTHING……….

You: Yes, yes I’ve heard that…….but I’ve really been thinking hard……….

About what to give lucky you, you of the lucky 0.009876 of  lucky people who luckily have EVERYTHING…..

Whoever: What so, what so, what so? [you sweet little bearer of  unbounded joy?]

You: I’m going to give you something you really deserve….and you do deserve much…….

Whoever: What so, what so, what so?

You:  *A Big Chrissy Kick Up The Bum!

* Your conversation should end right here or shortly after.

Finally, fond pre-Chrissy thoughts of the ’seasonal’ ladies at the Leeton Cannery I worked with in the seventies……

These gals?

They were never in line for A Big Chrissy Kick Up The Bum…..

Stinking hot, hard, repetitive work…..

But above the shocking noise?

Always news of the latest Chrissy pressie triumphants…..

‘ The trampoline……T-R-A-M-P-O-L-I-N-E…… comes off lay-by today……

‘Great! I get my hands on Warren’s fishing tackle….T-A-C-K-L-E…..next pay……….

‘Better you than me….I still wanna get THE bikes……B-I-K-E-S……but we’ll just *haveta see, haveta see…….’

*Everyone knew Lorna’s hubby, Wazza, always needed a Good Kick Up The Bum all year round……

 But no need to say it, none at all…….

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So, who will you be giving A Good Chrissy Kick Up The Bum….?

Perhaps you’re one of those folks who have everything – gee, what’s that like?  

What’s the worst Chrissie pressie that ever came your way? Did it make you feel totally unloved?

While I’ve got your attention, is it at all possible that Santa kicks his reindeers’ bums to make them go faster?

How’s that for a new Christmas story angle?!  

[Bosses take note. Well done KJ, if I don't say so myself.......]

****Before I go, best of luck to everyone in Gumly Gumly (near Wagga Wagga) facing the ire of the great Murrumbidgee. I know we have kerriejean.com community members down that way. Be safe – report in if you’ve got time. I know you’re very busy.

Looking forward to hearing from old and new visitors. It’s very easy to tell us what you’re doing/or thinking/or whose bums you’re kicking….

Do it by:

Just clicking on the ‘comment’ thingo and following 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.