Attack – Kill mode…

So at about midnight last night…why does stuff always happen at midnight…there was this series of god almighty loud, banging sounds within the house that woke me up. I shot out of bed and grabbed the steel capped pick axe handle I keep beside the bed and limped out – the limping’s another story – in my pink flannelette pjs and in what I call Amarinda Attack –Kill mode. Sensible move? Well, yeah – if you’re dumb enough to trespass in my house then you pay the consequences of meeting up with the flannelette, limping lady and her axe handle.

I staggered around the house, checking doors. They were locked. Hmmm. No visible signs of any intruder. ‘Flicked on switches room by room – jeez, I need to sort out the spare room – but nothing bar the normal chaos of my life. I went back to bed and pondered what the hell the sound was. I found out as I staggered into the kitchen the next morning. Apples. I had washed them and put them on the draining rack. They had fallen down into the stainless steel sink. Lucky for them I didn’t see them last night or they would have been apple sauce for waking me up.

* picture above – from my trip…a crocodile attack may cause injury? Well yes…

Amarinda Jones
Penn Halligan
www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
Be daring...read an Amarinda book

Dinner of champions…

….after a completely crapacious day at work where I was left wondering – what? Huh? Is it me? Who? Do what? Not without danger money I won’t…I went to the gym to be left gasping as I staggered outside into the 33C (92F) winter heat – yes winter in Oz at 5pm. Is the Mother Nature having some serious PMS issues or what? I had to then drop the company mail off which I should have dropped off hours before but what they don’t know won’t hurt them…it’s not my job to do it anyway hence ‘crapacious’ in the first sentence…where was I? Hmmm…work, capacious, gym, heat…ah yes, that led me to wine. While you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink, you can lead a pissed off woman to a bottle of chardy (chardonnay) and she can pull the cork out with her teeth and spit it ten feet away if she is any woman worth her salt.

So, I arrived at the bottlo (liquor store) for my once a week one bottle of chateau-whatever-the-hell-white-wine is on sale. Anyway, bottle of plonk in hand I wandered, bedecked in my sweaty trackie daks (track pants) and Ellora’s Cave T-shirt to the counter. I stopped dead when I saw what was there. Rosy apples. See the pic above. As a kid I loved these apple flavoured lollipops. What were these pure, innocent childhood evoking lollies (candy) doing at a delightfully sinful bottlo? Stuffed it I know but like any red-blooded Aussie I bought three. The perfect accompaniment to 2 glasses of calming plonk. It’s the dinner of champions.

Do you remember a bazillion years ago – 30 or so – when you could go to a store and by a bag of mixed lollies (candy) for a dollar and stagger outside with a huge bag of treasure? It can’t have just been in Australia. It was a huge treat to blow a whole dollar of pocket money on lollies. We used to sit down by the creek in the park and eat wagon wheels, bazooka bubblegum, jaffas, sherbet bombs, redskins, milkbottles, musk sticks, scorched almonds, lolly teeth etc and think we were the luckiest people on the planet. What simple times. How we have stuffed them up since.

So, tonight I sucked on three rosy apples and two glasses of wine for dinner and thought about life, liberty and how I don’t want to go back to work tomorrow. And the answer was? Well, there isn’t one. Crapacious just happens so get on with it. I know, you were thinking I was going to say something maybe more profound and meaningful. Nope. I will add that sweet things and dry white wine do not go together. Yeah, that’s as profound as I get.

www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
Be daring...read an Amarinda book