Calamity Jane and High Fives.

My eldest daughter works with children. Not as a childcare worker or educator, but rather as one of those courageous folk who save kiddies in harms way; those born in crack dens, who don’t get a decent meal for a month, and those who suffer all sorts of unthinkable atrocities. She is so busy rescuing that she does not have her own little ones, unless you include Bentley, my beautiful Grand Furbaby.


Little People love my daughter and she is Godmother and “Aunty” to several. This child of mine, deemed an old soul at birth, and one who reversed our mother-daughter roles when still in her late teens, has recently validated my worth as a parent.

How, you may ask?

When asked for sage parenting advice by friends, such as a good DVD to keep the young ones interested and content, does my daughter recommend Transformers, The Wiggles, or anything slightly superhero related?

No. Josie is slowly introducing the 1953 movie, Calamity Jane, a light hearted western musical starring Doris Day and Howard Keel, to a whole new generation. One lounge room at a time.


Way to go, girl !

From IMDB:
In the lonely Deadwood, Dakota, territory, sharpshooter Calamity Jane (Doris Day) falls for cavalry Lt. Danny Gilmartin (Philip Carey) when she is forced to rescue him from the Indians. Recognizing that the women-starved townsmen long for a “real” woman, Calamity journeys to Chicago to bring back famous singer Adelaid Adams, but mistakenly brings her maid Katie instead. Heartbroken when Danny falls for Katie, Calamity all but ignores her jovial friend Wild Bill Hickok (Howard Keel).


Doris Day is just beautiful, whether dressed in animal skins or in flouncy petticoats, and this is a joyful little flick full of fun. It requires no intellectual dissection – hanging the brain at the door along with the hat is compulsory.

Imagine, a movie that can hold the attention of our most vulnerable and impressionable, without a Hemsworth in sight.

Now that’s a win for Mother, I would say. High Fives all around please.

UPDATE : My other daughter tells me that Calamity Jane, the stage production, is coming to theatres in the ACT.
Now that’s worth some thought.We won’t tell Jo as she is inclined to break into song with “The Black Hills Dakota”.Aq

A Week Of Anniversaries…..

It has been a massive week.

Firstly, eighty years since the release of The Adventures of Robin Hood, or more affectionately, TAORH, featuring Errol Flynn.


Reason enough for a glass of bubbles, don’t you think?

Seventy five years since the Dambusters Raid.

I have never been one to have a Bucket List. The Depression parents taught me that if it was earned, and if you could pay cash for it, then enjoy it whilst you can. After all, “ you’re a long time dead”. So the newly opened Bomber Command Centre in Lincolnshire  is on my To Do List For 2019, before I get to that stage where all that sitting on the long flight kills me.


So,  another bubbles down the hatch.

The annual Anywhere Theatre Festival is currently engulfing Brisbane. Song, dance, mime, plays, puppetry – all being performed in the strangest of places : Cafes, theatre spaces, pubs, parklands, the parking lots of shopping centres, and the back gardens and porches of the general public. I enjoyed a performance in an old water reservoir, 20 metres underground.

And for all those who poohbah the cost of theatre, tickets are generally the same price as coffee and cake for two! Just bite the bullet and be surprised.


Of course I had a bubbles.

Lastly, young Harry and the American lass with the family  that keeps on keeping on. Not a royalist, and also have concerns about the massive amount of money that could be spent elsewhere, but never is…….

But you know what ? In amongst the school shootings, the political rubbish spouted by our leaders, the corruption of the banking sector and our local governments, and the growth of both homelessness and ice addition, sometimes  this old girl needs to believe in happy everafters. Even if she know she doesn’t believe, it is sometimes comforting to pretend.

So be it : more bubbles and cucumber sandwiches tonight.  Sometimes you just have to grab your joys where you can 🙂







Mother’s Day 2018

It’s Mother’s Day in Australia this weekend.

I was going to rant about the commercialisation of this date on the calendar and how these days have become mere marketing tools. But I am mellowing as I get older, so instead I will share some fun things.

First of all, my gift through the post from my youngest daughter, who writes Government policy for a living. WARNING : if you are feint hearted – don’t look.

A card from the eldest daughter thanked me for “ teaching us all the important things in life, like how to make a platter, the Hollywood Classics, and the best reads. Thankyou also for sharing with us your love of music and introducing us to Carole King”.

Platters. My kids were brought up on platters : good food, good wine, good social skills whilst grazing. What could be better? Here is a recent Easter platter.


The Hollywood Classics. Some people have replicated Monet’s on their walls – I’ve always had Errol Flynn lobby cards. Now both kids have a collection that rivals mine, with one owning a collection of singing Bing Crosby dolls. I kid you not. They’ve both told me that everything but my Errol’s is going to the dump when I’m dead.


Books. Because we all live in different parts of the country the youngest instigated a book club amongst the three of us, so each time we met up for a long weekend, we would sit around a champagne breakfast on the Sunday chatting about the designated book. This went really well for several years until the eldest nominated Book 1 of Game of Thrones. 1052 pages. I can remember the battle to get through each and every page. What a struggle, but mother can’t let the side down, can she? So, when we finally get to discuss this epic, number 2 intelligently discusses themes,
comparative history lessons, politics and feminism. I am gobsmacked but manage to comment. Number 1? Informs us she watched the television version instead.


Music. Soothes the soul and suits all moods. My father eased each loss with music, as have I. Music has also been celebratory which I have shared with both daughters. Music and Theatre. Expensive interests, but “you’re a long time dead”. ( Thank you, Father Bear, for my mantra) . After our recent Queen with Adam Lambert Concert we made a pact to travel anywhere in the world to be at their last ever concert. Brian May is looking so damn good that might be another fifty years down the track.

So Happy Days to all mums and dads, grandparents, uncles and aunts, sisters and brothers, and all those who have had a hand in shaping our younger ones. With the grey hair comes the great memories.

Oh, and I’m off to see Beautiful, The Carole King Story.

PS I still have no grey hair.

Valentines Day, For The Love Of…….

With Valentines Day knocking at the front door, some thoughts on love – not necessarily number one on my personal list of attributes.

Attended the annual fundraiser for the local Museum over the weekend. It’s only a small set up with a passionate belief in preserving the area’s past and is almost completely run on the goodwill of volunteers: lots of farm machinery, military history, and the usual assortment of haberdashery are on display.

The local community theatre group performed Love Letters, after our Roast Lamb and Apple Crumble tea, which was cooked by Museum Members and served under the towering Eucalyptus Gums. Love Letters is a play by A. R. Gurney that was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Drama. The play centers on two characters, Melissa Gardner and Andrew Makepeace Ladd 111 , and follows the power of love, through the point of a pen, over a period of some fifty years.

I’m no theatre critic but this was a community event in every sense of the word.

Sunday was designed for airconditioning. The experts had been tipping a week of 36 to 40 degree days, plus humidity. After venturing out early and spending some time in the garden, I made a mad dash to the Nursery where I discovered these Poppy Seeds for sale as a fundraiser for Legacy. No advertising, no fanfare whatsoever.


I love the Red Poppies and their symbolism is one that takes me back to places and events from before I was born. Anyway, I have to get back to the Nursery pretty damn quick as I’ve taken orders for another twenty odd seed packets. Everybody seems keen to plant them as a commemorative display to mark the end of WW1 one hundred years ago this coming November.

Today is even hotter, even stickier, and instead of mopping floors it’s a day for sitting quietly with a good book. I’ve returned to one I was gifted back in 1988 when my youngest daughter was born. It’s another that is well travelled and won’t be leaving my side.


Pictures In The Post is a book containing some of the illustrated cards that Sir Henry Thornhill, a distinguished soldier-administrator of the British Raj, sent to his two year old grandson, commencing from 1914. This tradition continued with each of his three grand daughters, though when the children reached 5 years of age he would write a message in capital letters, in addition to an illustration.

Not only are these letters to his kin nostalgic, but the book also outlines the life of a fine old gentleman from a long gone era.

Lurvvve is in the air, even at the office.


They say “Love makes the world go round”.  Whatever it is you love, whoever it is you love, simply enjoy.

That’s my annual display of mush over and done with. I promise there will be no more till this time next year.