Hello and Welcome to Bits ‘n’ Pieces

incorporating :

• Juniris’ recent purchases
• thatsnotablogmum
• Twitter, Twatter, Twaddle 
• 5 Minute Australian Comedy Scripts

AND
Hands up who thinks...

February 2012
an apology or two is due for my non recognition of the talented actors, Daniel Henshall and Tracy Mann.

February 2012
The movie theatre experience does not compare to lounge room viewing.
We escaped house and garden to the movies twice this week.
We had read the trilogy, seen the Swedish dvd version, thought we were adequately prepared for the Daniel Craig interpretation.
The paper said 11:45 am but the web-site said 2pm. The voice on the phone advised of the superior nature of the computer's accuracy, so we ate lunch and took a comfortable stroll on a 20 degree 'summer' day, purchasing lollies on the way, anticipating the seductive but scornful rack of $5 jaffa bags.
The smell of decay - somewhat porcine in origin - from the basement of the bulding being renovated next door to the cinema, was a breath holding moment of displeasure. Must check TROVE for the building that used to be there in 1860s, probably where the goats, dogs and pigs of the old town were removed from circulation.
No crowd to wiggle through, also no eftpos but credit cards accepted, even received the pensioner discount for looking pitiful or saying repeatedly no eftpos? sure?
Early, so spent time discussing finer points of soft toy grabbing machine that could easily accomodate a determined 3 year old.
A quick glance around revealed only grandparents, all relieved at the commencement of another educational year. So no test subjects.
Comfortably seated in the centre of row, no beehives in front no crunchers behind. Waited, polished glassed waited a bit more, not even ads to snooze through. Loud booming noise debated, resolved as renovation noises. Assistant eventually appeared, reassuring all 10 of us that the 'projectionist' was fixing the problem right now. No free tickets offered. Lights down, side 'Exit' light suddenly distractingly bright. A young man had removed his shoes and socks and propped his feet up so they glowed in the soft light. I waited for the waft but there was none.
Three hours later our butts were relieved and the dragon tatts girly was off on her bike. Daniel Craig by then had mastered the highly sought after and indeed very sexy -in a 70s kind of way- skill of dangling his glasses in front of his face by one ear.
The next day, our toughened rears were entertained with the Australian film "Any questions for Ben?"
We walked via the cash machine and asked the seemingly solo cinema worker why it was cheaper yesterday
and were automatically given the pitiful price, without even pulling the face.
In the blue curtained cinema not the pink one with the evil winking Exit light.
The one worker seemed to be doing all - including turning the sound to max - drowned out that renovation noise.
Viewed one ad doused with musak sounds, then the computer re-set and the show rolled on, inticing us to re-watch "Titanic" by a bombardment of booming sound effects coming from behind and to the left.
Mercifully began the entertaining 'Ben?' film of Melbourne sights from all angles and many musical sounds, thankfully without next doors's smellorama.
There was the obligatory : "Who is that fellow? Is that Joel Edgerton's brother? Is it Joel himself, with a dye job? Could have shaved his head then put a wig... No. Sure?'"
Lolly munching, then:
"What about that woman? What's she been in? His mother, Spunky - what's his name Ben of course - his mother? Was she John Waters' ex-wife in that hospital show? Well she looks a lot like her!"
It was relaxing remembering young times in Melbourne, now pondering the futures of our own batch of adults.
the juniris review : "Finger snapping good!"
We return home to the smell of steamed dim sims, lingering, lingering from the last of our twenty somethings, studying for the final chance exam, hopefully to be whisked away soon to some well paid cloud.
I vote for lounge room viewing. Pause button. Toilet breaks. Coffee slurping beats running questionary.
Now pass me the air freshener spray.


February 2012
An early autumn, skipping over a reluctant summer.

January 2012
An exercise involving Extreme Restraint : Not the dragon tattoo girly...
trying to limit ourselves to watching only one episode each day from the DVD Box Set of 'Gavin and Stacey.'

January 2012
New Year's Eve is for insomniacs. Young insomniacs.
Intention to party. Check. Bottle of champagne, suitably cool. Availability of friends and neighbors. Bop-Bow.
TVviewing suiting only the lonely.
One yawn. Inevitable occurs. Awake for toilet visit at 5 to midnight. Hear a few fireworks in distance. Earplugs solves that.


December 2011
It is not a good idea to become complacent about impending disasters.
Recall incredible downpour on Christmas night. We drove through that. At least the on-call driver who guided us home in the brand new million dollar bus, happily drove us all through the tornado to the left and if you look to the right another storm cell.
So, lovely Xmas lunch, collect goddies, pack trolley head off to Southern Cross, listen to downpour, watch for collapse of roof. None. Board Free Train. Proceed as far as Norta Melbourne. Stop. Watch more downpour. Await conductor announcement. Wait a bit more. All huff off train. Wait at front of queue for replacement bus. Watch lightning. Step back inside Norta Melbourne station. Sit in waiting bay. Observe water pouring through ceiling next to lights. Shift after station attendant suggestion rather than own turkey- addled brain recalling something about water and electricity not mixing.
De-stuff trolley to stick in luggage compartment under bus. Absorb minimum rain. Attract no lightning. Travel home safely.
Bright and dry in Ballarat. Cats still alive. Birds still singing.
New water mark on hallway ceiling, a more easily handled disaster than a fry-up in the Norta Melbourne waiting room.

December 2011
All the joy of Christmas lies in who is doing the cooking!
Hence, my Xmas lunch was delightful, absolutely delightful. Of course I did my little bit of turkey roasting, cooling, slicing and transporting in an ice filled bag. The main show, however, was created, produced and directed by the most able, unflappable, young woman known. Ah the blessing of a daughter in defacto law, especially one who rises to the challenge of Polish pieroggi. The table was laden with stylish bowls and platters of all things delicious and pleading to be temptingly re-juggled past family members.
About to tuck in, we remembered the pre-eating photo, which from experience, always looks a lot better than the post ravage.
The digital on a 3 legged stick with some magic timer button did its work, not once, but twice. I thought there were smiles all round, but a later look revealed my smug toothiest smile starkly contrasting with more starved visages, a rather flapped hastily seated digital operator and a slightly over heated cook.
A very successful 25th December 2011.
Everyone enjoyed the ripping of wrapping.
No one over imbibed and fell asleep before lunch.
No one upset an outdoor trestle table by tying a dog to a leg.
Sufficiency all round.
A little matter of the crackers also known as bon-bons may have changed the whole tone.
Daughter had purchased a set of 6 of the most lush, gold-decorated available at Woolworths.
All enclosed the usual joker-colored king's crown, riddles most suited to a six year old and 6 different novelty toys, which we promised each other to swap depending on who cracked what.
The minature screwdriver set was eyed off as much as the little sewing set.
On some premonition brought on by the calm of non-cooking, I discretely popped a cracker with daughter as anchor, beside the table just before the intake of food commenced. Yes. I said beside the table. You read that right. For inside the bon-bon, along with toy, joke and crown as promised on the box, were millions of little things not mentioned on the box.
Some crown annointed manager had ordered or allowed or failed to check the appropriateness of including sparkly glitter.


December 2011
Santa please pay attention!
This is the most comprehensive Christmas wish list ever for Juniris:
Yellow is the favored color for my prison er  kitchen. Cheary not bleary so that drying dishes is much easier when looking at a pretty yellow pattern. Assistants dare not wipe their peanut buttery hands onto the giveaway shade of yellow, nor do they attempt to polish the patina from the back of hard working but neglected pots via the tea towel. Give me yellow tea towels any Christmas, or white with a bit of yellow, even blue with splashes of yellow. Forget that pompous argument about personal presents versus something for the kitchen; all yellow happily received.
You are sick of looking at my old windcheaters. I know this because I am sick of wearing them, washing them, pegging them out, taking them in and pulling them on. The cat remains and no that should not be fact. While a cat is in need of patting, I shall require a cat patting windcheater. Rather similar to a baby drool windcheater, it should be multi-colored or at least have a disguising and/or disgusting pattern on the front. Zips or dangly cords are an added entertainment bonus. At least 70% cotton is required otherwise a body heats up too much when a cat settles in for a long winter’s nap on my lap.
The perfect lipstick would be good. I have tried most of them but my face continues to mottle to varying hues depending on the weather, so any shade that makes me look really truely lovely and doesn’t immediately jump to my teeth will be welcomed into my handbag. Even if it is a tooth magnet, I will still use it if the magic spell works.
Any tea bags or even real tea leaves, I've got a tea pot you know. It's yellow. Buy the tea that promises weight loss, a cure for insomnia and/or a solution to indigestion. It will be trialled immediately and the results given a score out of 10. I know none will go above 4 but the scientist in me wishes to show up the sceptic.
Ear plugs that have the daily disposable convenience of comfy cotton balls combined with the block out factor of silicon balls would be a delight to find under the tree. I promise never to wear them during the day.
For the family history note taking while down at the library, I require a thick comfy-grip muli-colored -you know the clicky sort - of biro, or several of them if you can find them, and I will hide them in different handbags.
Packets of exotic flower seeds, especially the sort that require planting to a specific depth and in a special soil mix, will be a wonderful souce of entertainment. I do like to sprinkle randomly and check daily progress of the determined.
I have always wanted seven pairs of very large cotton underpants, preferably in different colors or patterns, so I can write Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, etc in ‘won’t wash off texta’ on the bottom. Dead sexy. Especially if I line up the letters so they make a break right on the button, with an explosion type effect on the shattered letters.
Sorry the above all require the expenditure of too much money. Here are some $2 or less ideas:
Seven face washers in different colors. See above note.
Forged Coffee Reward cards, especially for the Chains. The ones that ask you your name then look at you all funny when you say Esmerellda with two elles. They started it.
Handkerchiefs. I will put them in my tissue boxes; every 10th tissue will be a hanky, a surprise awaiting each blow.
Chewing gum. Lots of it. I want to see how many I can chew while waiting in line for the checkout and test how quickly the flavor vanishes from each brand, then I want to save it and stick the blobs in a pattern on the smoking bench outside the hospital.
Books from the op shop or Library 50 cent sale. I like confusing visitors by having something well outdated to hold up and ask have you read this one yet?
Vouchers for foot rubs. You know I will never redeem but he doesn’t, so if you make it glittery enough he will think he agreed but forgot.


November 2011
TROVE is the best place to find unexpected humour!
I have entertained myself for a few months fixing digital transcriptions of old newspapers on the TROVE website.
Those of us old enough to have delighted in the primary school subjects of ‘dictation’ and ‘transcription,’ as a break from ‘emu bob’ -which sounded like a great game but was actually rubbish collection - actually enjoy the process of correcting ‘tutt tutt, silly old computer’ mistakes.
My new transcription game is competed against others with time at their two finger tips. Although I am yet to be awarded any gold stars, I enjoy the short sessions of tapping and reading the history of Ballarat as seen through the reporters of the “Star” newspaper circa 1850s.
Each session is similar to reading predictive text when trying to tap out a message at midnight, wondering, often out loud ‘whose fault is that jumble of words?’ 
Probably best to blame the new fangled scientific digital world, rather than the aging human brain wishing to believe what it is reading.
The most common errors made by the digital scanning process are the words: die rather than the, Greek instead of Creek, hare mistaken for  have and well, I’ll just run you through a few in context, shall I?

I offer you these little excerts - noted in “talking marks” - from the digital transcriptions of our Ballarat newspaper
“The Star” circa 1859.

The banks have fallen out of favor in recent times. Viewed as no longer the passport to the future by many, it seems clerks were intimidated by various methods of bullying by their irrate customers in 1859. Being covered with icing sugar was one recorded incident for a worker in the Bank of Victoria, when he was “glaced in the dock.”
Oh. Maybe that should be ‘placed’ says my brain to tapping fingers.
We all cringe when the stock market results are being read out on telly. Well, those of us who are retired do so, especially when it is happy Bill, he of ‘doing the heel rock,’ during the read out ...  however, the 1859 report on the “dour market” may be a little cruel... wait on that should be transcribed as flour market.
Picking on the police may be a current fad, however, it seems to date back to 1859 when the “ponce” had to be called upon.
No wonder they were not held in admiration, working from the “Ticketty” old police station, or busy swatting off stings “in every district hive....”
Of course every birth was celebrated in the new colony and the safe arrival of three lion cubs and a monkey was reported by the enthusiastic journalist.
However, “The ladies and their interesting progeny are as well as can be expected.” Is not a fauly digital transcription. You read right. Ow! Itchy and scratchy!
Ballarat was a miserable place to be in a tent during winter when the year was 1859.
“Cold fields” indeed! We are no colder than Creswick. Ballarat is at least equal to Bendigo, at least a “godfield” ...hang on, maybe not up with the dieties, a very rich goldfield will suffice.
After 10 years of drought, in 2011 we are again welcoming rain and the lake is full. Similar to the situation in 1859 when, “The late heavy nuns have had the effect of raising the level of the swamp”
Maybe a top night out and all that frog stomping, possibly raised the water table or brought the springs into action, or maybe blame it on the rains.
On to more accurate comment on the weather... “the narkiest of the winter evenings”
probably should be murkiest, but narkiest is applicable on this dreary November day.
I hope this weather report is not heard until next winter : “a sharp hoar frost” or this summer, when it eventually changes to hot windy weather and the prediction of “ a slight brick fielder.” Again, do not polish specs, you read that one accurately.
They even had 1859 food critics... “long neglected White Horse Beef”
possibly eaten in a classy tent on White Horse Reef, where you would never refuse seconds of “padding” er pudding
Book in now for a dining experience of “roasted alpaca cutlets”
Keep your bib on, you read that right.
Such are the “simple farts so far.” Fact is a difficult word for digital scanners to transcribe with accuracy, so stand clear in regards to the new untried members of Parliament: “It is a noteworthy fart...”

Always best to end on a high note
go to www.trove.nla.gov.au
and do some transcribing for yourself.





September 2011
The photographic exhibition in Ballarat, held in various venues until the 18th of September is inspiring.
Especially the work of Lal Lal local, Kristina Kitchingman.

Now, that's a good idea...
Cappuccino Crawl in Ballarat...
There’s more than one cafe?
One hundred you say! That’s more than pubs and clubs combined.
So breakfast at one place, morning break at another, lunch somewhere else,
afternoon revival finished by evening meal...all with a different style or flavour of coffee...
mmmm could be humming along to cas by 8pm...better make some of those beverages decaf or chai or tea
Where to go for coffee in Ballarat?
See my “Cappuccino Crawl in Ballarat” pamphlet
just uploaded to
www.junirisland.net
on the same page as
“Opshop til you drop in Ballarat”
copy / download
print out
photocopy back to back
fold into a pamphlet
and enjoy ticking off and ranking all our cafes
drawing trains and cars all over the map and coloring-in the headings
Which cafe in Ballarat has the ‘best’ coffee?
Is there a really cool cafe, where everyone hangs out?
Which ones are dog friendly?
Which ones have organic / fair trade / roast their own coffee?
Which ones have a drive through service?
Is there a cafe that tolerates babies and children?
Do they all have customer toilets?
Do any cafes have a courtyard?
Can you get there by bus?
Is there easy / cheap parking?
any comments email me at
thejuniris@hotmail


That typist / computer who did the captions for the anxious arrival of cyclone Yasi
was just trying to break the tension by referring to Cairns as cans
and insisting our Prime minister's 'apple tart is with you'
as well as quoting the specialist who had been to 'salamis'

Green weed growing on our lake's surface could only be mistaken for solid ground covered by grass, by an over zealous labrador
and generally speaking, they don't stop to read signs.

The Thursday  "Age" newspaper should be thanked for their inclusion of a simple map of Western Victorian rivers.
Now a follow up story on why 3 of those rivers end up Nowhere... I failed Geography in Form 6... is it something to do with the Great Artesian Basin - underground water and all that...

Only the valiant warrior eels would have chosen death when the Skipton eel farm flooded this week.
The lackadaisical, laid back, go with the flow eels would have swum away to the old country.

Daphne cuttings are prone to non compliance with instructions

Curry is more effective at drawing a crowd of blowies to the backdoor than corned beef

Television camera operators who record idiots playing in flood waters,
should themselves be dunked thrice in the same excretia laden eddy.
Television reporters who veer from reporting the facts of where, when and why flooding has occured
-rather than concentrating on shoving microphones into the 'who'-
should have their designer gumboots filled with cowpoo

The professor from "Gilligan's Island" should match wits with Stephen Fry on "QI"
Greengrass from Heartbeat should be Dr Doolittled by Nigella
Top Cat should be let loose in Meerkat Manor

A new TV show called " Fill 'em up" should be made, featuring prisoners on correction orders shovelling gravel into all the holes created by "Time Team" casually supervised by Phil Harding drinking a beer, in his short shorts of course

 The precocious boy from "Outnumbered" and Hamish Blake of Melbourne radio /TV and Alan Davies from "Jonathan Creek" & "QI" should play grandson, son and grandfather in a telly movie called "Never grow up"with guest appearances by great grandfather Mick Molloy sporting a grey moustache so long it obliterates his lips as it blends into short goatee

The circa 1986 ABC TV crime solving / comedy "The Fast Lane" should be given a re-run or at least released on dvd
My favorite TV moment ever came from that show... possibly the credits...
when an affected gentleman swerves to a halt and orders half a dozen dim sims

there should be a definite limit on the number of screenings every 5 years of
"The great St Trinians train robbery"...the old one with George Cole, not the new "St Trinian's" with Russell Brand
"To kill a mocking bird"
"Singing in the rain"
"True lies"
any "Carry on" movies
any Elvis movies
on summer time TV

Pedestrians should be guided by little painted footprints,
indicating which side of the footpath to use...'to the left, to the left'...
Councils should include the occasional elephant or tiger print,
with a smudge of a little wrong way human print just visible

Plastics manufacturers should make clear, rectangle containers
with lids attached or easily snapped on and tall enough
to fit 1kg paper bags of flour or sugar

Bad things keep happening, when good people do nothing




Juniris' recent purchases / awaiting :

2012
Op Shop purchase : Larousse's 'French English' Dictionary
Rather late purchase of the still good books by Stephen Fry "Paperweight" and "Making History"
Awaiting ANY new TV shows. It's been a long cool summer. "Pictures of you" with Brian Nankervis could be good.
"Human Remains" with Ruth Jones and Rob Brydon would be excellent. In the meantime it's "Sports Fever" with Santo, Ed & Sam.
Movies : "Any questions for Ben?" Seen, appreciated and entertained : 'Finger Snapping Good!'
Best Xmas present : DVD Box set of "Gavin and Stacey." Written by Ruth Jones and James Corden. Simply succulent.


2011
Op Shop purchase "Before it's too late : Why some kids get into trouble - and what parents can do about it" by Stanton E. Samenow acknowledged by Dr Laura Schlessinger as 'A must read book to avoid stupid parenting'
Awaiting TV special on Judith Lucy's 'Spiritual Journey'
also 'Laid' with Celia Paquola
"The Jesters" starring Mick Molloy on fixplay.ninemsn.com.au/jesters to be relished at the each end of month,
as our download limit approaches
Ed Kavalee's "Scumbus" featuring Tony Martin
"Six Plots" Australian movie, producer John Chase of Ballarat
"Any questions for Ben?" Australia movie formerly known as "25"


2010

movie "I love you too" Peter Helliar
possible movie by producer John Chase, currently in pre-production
Favorite Xmas presents :
yellow umbrella, hand made black & gold necklace, Stieg Larsson's three novels on the girl with a dragon tatt,
junirisland updating thereof and Monica McInerney's "At home with the Templetons"
Eagerly awaiting:
That nice TV station to air more old episodes of "The Avengers"
"The joy of sets" TV show with Tony Martin & Ed Kavalee.
Swinging new instrumental surfy band "Johnnie and the Johnnie Johnnies"
to be the soundtrack of 2011, led by Johnnie no-good with 'Sangrita' in hand and 'The Black Flamingo' in tow.


2009
Watching the rise to Fame and Fortune of new Ballarat band "Howl"
Awaiting very patiently
a truce and reunion between Mick Molloy and Tony Martin
Review :
"Fabulous Food minus the Boombah" by Jane Kennedy
"...not in the same league as 'Cooking! Who Cares?'...but a good stocking stuffer nonetheless"
Summer TV viewing : Thank goodness for "Magnum PI" repeats and the discovery of "It's always sunny in Philadelphia"
Even had a fantastic COLOUR episode of "F-Troop" when the Cricket was postponed.
Will the TV Powerpeople find the recordings and re-air "77 Sunset Strip" "The Mod Squad"
or even the deeply buried "Funky Squad"
Favorite Xmas presents :
dvd "Withnail and I"
book "The Tao of Pooh and the Te of Piglet" by Benjamin Hoff
hand lotion Dead Sea Ahava


2008
Books from Op Shop :
Jokes for the John with splashproof easy wipe cover
Bring a plate to the Mortdale Scout Hall by Su Cruickshank
Blame the octopus by Berna Hansen
New Books :
Pop Charts. Comedy graphs of your favorite tunes by Paul Copperwaite
CD Purchases :
unessential listening by Hamish & Andy
CDs on order :
Welcome to the inn by Eddie Perfect
DVD Purchases :
Wilfred. You think you're human don't you
Thumbsucker
Superbad
Awaiting movie release :
Australian Writer / Director Dean Murphy's "Charlie and Boots"
Awaiting TV show:
Chandon Pictures
Awaiting Book Release
"A nest of occasionals" by Tony Martin October 2009
delivering...delivering...DELIVERED! Pass the cigars, please.
Favorite Xmas presents :
Big Noter Calendar by Norrish - Reid Services PO Box 1246 Healsville 3777 Victoria, Auatralia
Images of England. Pocket Images - Warrington by Janice Hayes
Willow Wood Hospice calendar for 2009 with photographs by the Broadoak Photography Group
Balloons by Jon Tremaine (how to make balloon animals)
Paperweight. Hand carved in Kenya mother & baby from Oxfam shop


2007
Books from Op Shop :
Wildcat falling by Mudrooroo
Don't take your love to town by Ruby Langford
A bastard like me by Charles Perkins
New Books :
Art and Physics. Parallel visions in Space, Time and Light by Leonard Shlain
CD Purchases :
Cashgrab by Paperhouse
Things to learn by The Silents
CDs on order :
Welcome to the inn by Eddie Perfect
DVD Purchases :
Ten Canoes
like totally...Dylan Moran Live
Born to win & The Swap with Robert de Niro
Greetings with Robert de Niro
Awaiting DVD release:
Boytown Confidential by Tony Martin
Awaiting movie :
Australia by Baz Luhrmann
Awaiting TV
Dexter next season
Favorite Xmas presents :
Big Noter Calendar by Norrish - Reid Services PO Box 1246 Healsville 3777 Victoria, Auatralia
Willow Wood Hospice calendar for 2008 pics of Ashton under Lyne
Willow Wood Close, Mellor Road, Ashton under Lyne OL6 6SL
Postcards of Manchester Cathedral, On the Mersey - Warrington, Old Manchester - Deansgate c 1885

2006
Books from Op Shop :
A pictorial history of Australian railways 1854 - 1970 by Ron Testro
Dinkum Aussie mailboxes by Alan Eager
Women in the background by Barry Humphries
New books purchased :
Lolly Scramble by Tony Martin
Teacher man by Frank McCourt
The bastard boy by James Wilson
CD purchases :
Middleborough Rd by Tripod
CDs on order :
The Silents. Perth's hottest new band
Welcome to the in by Eddie Perfect
DVDs purchased :
Strange Bedfellows by Dean Murphy
The Aunty Jack Show ABC
Johnny Skidmarks
Joe's apartment
Awaiting movie release:
Boytown with Mick Molloy
Awaiting TV:
The wind in the tree by Dean Murphy
Thank God you're here by Working Dog
Mouse Patrol
Favorite Xmas presents 2006 :
For the kitchen - Big Noter Calendar by Norrish - Reid Services PO Box 1246 Healsville 3777 Victoria, Australia
$2 Manet calendar for the thinking room
Iris hand lotion by Maddigan, Fairfield Victoria
Politics Australian style! black and white 1000 piece jigsaw by Spooner

Top of Page


thatsnotablogmum

go to TROVE for online old newspapers
Compare your life with that of the 1860s by reading all about:

Hot winds bake fruit
"The Ballarat Star" of 25 Jan 1860

Child drowns in dam
"The Ballarat Star" of 24 Jan 1860

Gunpwder and the Chinese
"The Ballarat Star" of 23 Jan 1860

Caterpillar ravages
"The Ballarat Star" of 20 Jan 1860

Never leave children alone, especially with fire
"The Ballarat Star" of 19 Jan 1860

Raging Bushfires
"The Ballarat Star" of 18 Jan 1860

Don't mess with snakes
"The Ballarat Star" of 17 Jan 1860

Fowl robberies
"The Ballarat Star"of 16 Jan 1860

A new lock-up for females being constructed...yay
"The Ballarat Star" of 14 Jan 1860

Suspicions of swamp water being sold off by mining companies
"The Ballarat Star" of 12 Jan 1860

The horrible consequences of heat, illnesses and 'exciting solids' on the infant mortality rate.
"The Ballarat Star" of Jan 10 1860

Private bathing times for ladies, under the strict supervision of Mrs Grimbley, at the sand based Victoria Baths located near the Gas Works in Ballarat East; comparable with the Western Baths, on the creek by the Brewery.
from "The Ballarat Star" of Jan 3 1860

Mrs Baddenach of Creswick who entangled her skirts in two bottles of lemonade on Christmas day, 1859.
Luckily for her, Dr Roche was soon stitching up the damage.
from "The Ballarat Star" of 31st Dec 1859




24 Mar 2011
Unpacked from Queensland Adventure :
After surviving my unlicenced backseat driving
of our hired four-wheel drive through flooded creeks,
we arrived at a Daintree rain-forest paradise in Whyanbeel, Queensland
near Mossman named 'Janbal' from the local Yalangi language.
I learned quickly to raise both arms above my wet face washered head
to worship the God named airconditioner
and practise the associated rituals of dipping in the pool.
The overwhelming architecture of this seemingly 'just made for a tv series' house,
gradually imprinted in my soggy brain as I flip-flopped regularly to the ice making fridge.
The luxurious fittings, furniture and art work slowly slipped into second place,
behind the towering, wonderous variety of 100 million year old plant forms seen from every window.
We didn't tire of whispering urgently or screaming in delight to each other
as each 'new to us' critter fluttered, crawled, swam or pecked into view.
Even the peacock who strutted along the decking to take a poop received our acclaim.
We need not have ventured from the house and surrounding property for the entire week,
but for the need to find a wide river crossing ... for the four-wheel drive vehicle.
Emmagen creek near Cape Tribulation was crossed, paddled in
and then the beware of crocodiles sign duly noted.
We called in to Alison & Digby's exotic fruit tasting at Cape Trib
- we had gone beyond the sign that warned '4 wheel drive only'
so were tough enough to use the shortened name -
and were refreshed by the variety of delicious new textures and flavours,
almost able to pronounce and remember both mamey and black sapote.
I have always associated tropical with mushy tinned fruit,
not humidity and the resulting rapid growth of life forms.


13 Mar 2011
Packing pull along for trip to deepest, wettest Queensland
Really should upload the "Cappuccino Crawl" pamphlet to junirisland.net

12 Mar 2011
Having butterflied around NZ again for the month,
following the jewellers from Birmingham via Clerkenwell, London
I settled on Charles Turner Harrop who
widowed, childless and retired
from manipulating gold into things of beauty
spent the last years of his life in Cambridge Road Brentford Chiswick
then King Street Fulham with 2 servants.
I hope he had a faithful dog.
I paused mid earthquakes and tsunamis
to email 'new to me' descendants of Harriet Tully nee Harrop

12 Feb 2011
And as predictable as a dog off a chain
I now take my mind off the small low fat meals
by sniffing out
the wondrous mystery of part of 'our' SA Harrop family tree :
Henry 'Harry' & Minnie Netta Harrop nee Heath lived Stamford Street, Parkside, Adelaide
their daughters Hazel Violet Judd, Gladys Melva Stringer and Ida Isabell McKinnon
and sons
Sydney Clem Harrop known as Sid Harrrop
and
Clinton Ross Harrop known as Clint Harrop


6 Feb 2011
Oh the joy of distraction!
The delighful Harrop family tree from England to NZ then on to WA:
Robert & Ann Harrop nee Goddard
Joseph Ryland Harrop and his 2 wives Fanny Radcliffe and Eliza Ellis
Leonard St George & Eleanor Jane Harrop nee Turtley
Leonard's surviving sister Georgina Ellis Colnett 
and brother Herbert Booth Harrop
Herbert's sons
Harold Joseph & Elfreda Hope Harrop nee Minchin
and
Herbert Thomas Godfrey & Grace Selina Harrop nee Savell
and the famed
Leonard Bernard Harrop once married to Elsa Suzanne Simon


2 Feb 2011
Ultrasound thingy machine says hello gallstones

29 Jan 2011
Machines that go ping in cas

28 Jan 2001
Suddenly steering the ceramic bus in the Art Gallery

27 Jan 2011
A phone call out of the blue. A hurried squeeze into neglected - new but never worn - blue speedos, cover bulges with t-shirt & trackies, dust talcum powder off yellow silicone cap, toss out sticky green decayed goggles, throw towel into bag with hanky, cash and comb, jump into paddock bomb as it swerves in to collect me...Thel & Lou are off to the newly revamped YMCA

26 Jan 2011
Happy "Terra Nullis - NOT" Day

25 Jan 2011
Nearly finished 'Cappuccino Crawl' pamphlet on where all the cafes are in Ballarat to be uploaded to junirisland in a week or so

24 Jan 2011
The welcome sound of magpie warbling and baby one squarking in time, made me hit the pause button and race outside.
Last week dear husband had reported a squished magpie... sad, but not ours, so hip hip, hurr-urdle!

23 Jan 2011
Babysitting our own little darling at last!
A grey shorthaired female tabby "Kattie" has come to stay for a few months and has already reminded us
that no two cats have the same personality!
We are slowly introducing our lazy 14 year old male "Oh Black and White One" by feeding them either side of the laundry door,
held open a crack by myself. So far, complete disinterest by OB&WO to the hisses from Kattie.

18 Jan 2011
The sound of our home has changed!
The side door ringer is now on the front door
topsyturvy indeed

17 Jan 2011
Utilised rolling pin for its intended use
- not belittling cartoon husbands-
but smashing the stems of Hi-der-Rangers
then burning the ends
Don't know why just do

16 Jan 2011
Emerged from bed cocoon, digestive system more settled. Unsettled by smooth media switch of attention on 75% of Queensland floods and close ups of our bravely coping female leaders, alternating with shockingly distressed survivor interviews,
to shots of Victorian floods and nattily dressed reporters choosing to stand in front of most disastrous swirls, attempting best pronunciation of country town names.

15 Jan 2011
Tried to understand several page flips of Melways to come to grips with which rivers flow towards the Murray and which head to the coast. Brain needed plain blue lines map of Victorian river systems with directional arrows

14 Jan 2011
Our backyard accepting of nature's will with tiny creek bed re-emerging, a swirl of billabong around the washing line and waterfall over bricks to side drain


12 Jan 2011
Bravely took late morning train after consulting weather radar, delivered de goods, returned via 4:37pm express, only slightly dampened twice. Saluted the distant bulky clouds and admired beauty of changing city to country landscape, from safety of train window. Traced the forceful imposition of train tacks thereon, the cuttings deep, wet and shining in afternoon sun, scotch mist masking backward glances.
Ballarat steadily soaked all day.


11 Jan 2011
Recovered from train trip to Tedtown on Sunday and packing trolley for the same again tomorrow
Not recovered from news Ballarat Dimmeys is closing, although husband now has a pair of $2 heavy cotton dark green work pants and daughter has another pair of $10 black leather work shoes
Working on Cappuccino Crawl pamphlet to upload to junirisland.net

7 Jan 2011
Post production of "Taming magpie" coming along nicely, need more burp and fart sound effects
stopped editing to cook tea
tried a Portugese marinade... could just read ingredients ... tomato, garlic, chilli, coconut milk... so who did they invade?

3 Jan 2011
I do delight in the discovery of anything / anyone in the 'new to me' arena:

Having a play on the wii exercise board and listening to an animated trainer tell me "Looks like you're not quite strong enough to attempt this exercise," then being praised for my dynamo approach to the 'Warrior Pose' - that was fun each time.
Must do it again and see if he has changed his tune. Smug little bugger.

Having broadband at last, after years of rationing downloads, seems akin to watering with the hose again. Feels so dispicable to waste drips of water and empty out all the barrels of mossie infected rain water. Watering the backyard is like going to the Ball with dance card full, although no amount of delicate Pride of Erin-ing allows moccies to remain non-soggy.
Internet gluttony is delicious. Even Christmas e-cards are opened.

Being surprised by lucky lunchtime flickaround - was also a delight. "MTV Cribs UK" is apparently a show about celebrity homes, a bit like the last 10 minutes of "Grand Designs" but without the possibility of disaster and also minus Kevin. A dapper young man named Keith Lemon prancing around his crib, caught us both unawares and had my poor slow husband wondering out loud about all sorts of topics unrelated to political correctness. "I think he's taking the pi..." I managed to giggle out, only to hear the 'Pffft' I am often accused of uttering.
So, with upperhand poised, I googled and snuggled under the virtual blanket of internet fame was the talented Leigh Francis.
Well, clever enough as he has married a well made up Jill Carter and they have created a daughter named Matilda, who will be blowing out 3 candles soon, the darling 'hold thumb' in order to display 3 chubby fingers age.
Apparently Leigh Francis visited Australia in March 2008 as part of his"Very Brilliant World Tour"
Leigh Francis' characters include 'Ozzy Rezat,' 'Avid Merrion' and a mannersfree 'Bear'
His Keith Lemon character will bring a Richard Marsland working Warrick Capper smile.
I look forward to viewing Leigh Francis' dvds eventually, and/ or praying lots to the Australian TV programing gods.



1 Jan 2011
What happened to 2010? A question well asked and now, scantily answered...

My very last present opened adoringly each year, with reverence - coming from the grave as it does and always bringing back rushes of dear father in law memories - is my kitchen calendar. I then occupy the blankness of January the first, by marking on birthdays, recycling nights and "one year since" reminders, sometimes even using multi-colors!
Reviewing 2010's calendar and grateful that year is now consigned to the Reject Shop, I failed the following Quiz:

Who suffers more - a male who undergoes 2 hernia operations in 12 months
or a female who has heavy month long periods for 7 years, even with Mirena for 5 years, then a D&C then an ablation?
A. neither, easypeasy
B. the female as she does double nursing duties - her own and the male's care
C. the male because he has to listen to the marytr

Does a lifetime of trying to fool Nature by taking various contraceptive pills, come back to bite the front bottom?
A. Not as yet
B. possibly stretch a menopause out to 10 years
C. oww 1 minute ago

When Juniris kicked her "had none" toe on the metal bed leg, how long did it take to fix?
A. Not as yet
B. 3 months
C. wearing moccies, so no pain

Which post Endometrial Ablation symptons were experienced?
A. sore nose and chin
B. facial cheeks redder than 2 glasses of red wine
C. knee scarring - from casually checking low blood pressure a few days too soon, in a wander around back yard, resulting in a moccie snagged trip

How much diarrhoea can 2 daily high strength iron tablets cause?
A. none. Constipation is the normal bowel response
B. about a box of matches worth
C. new knickers required

How much "feedback" can a deaf, blind 20 year old cat give after eating contentedly every day, followed by a leisurely wander around the yard giving out a running commentary?
A. at least 2 weeks worth of shovelling up reminders, before peacefully expiring in the afternoon sun

What happens when you find out your great grandmother is buried just up the road, in an unmarked paupers grave?
A. Nothing as yet
B. take pics of site and send to older richer relatives
C. Purchase site and erect e-headstone, charge viewing fee, roll up roll up

What do you get when you take a trolley load of essentials on the train to a Uni student on a 4 degree day?
A. sore back
B. luke warm coffee, no sugar
C. strange looks

How long since junirisland.net was launched?
A. 2006
B. 2010
C. both






Dec 2009
Only a very foolish man would insist his wife ride on the back of a donkey - the boney ridge of a donkey’s backbone unequaled in the equine kingdom.
Yes a foolish man indeed, even if he believed his enormous bellied wife was only 6 months pregnant 7 at the most .
A thoughtful man would quietly and efficiently pre-arrange a birthing place and doula, months before the new head crowned.
A thoughtful man would have something set aside to bribe an inn-keeper for a decent room, even a promise to be the next night’s hairy pole dancer would suffice.
A man with adequate thought patterns would not surround a birthing woman with lowing beasts, especially NOT promise to milk the donkey, sheep or cow
just in case the woman’s breasts - unlike her healthy uterus - were not up to the task of nourishing the new born heir.
Ah foolish man who boils water and sets fire to damp hay, the smell setting off a new round of howls of abuse.
Sit or stand behind your groaning woman dear father to be. It will not be long now. Let her lean back into you, skillfully avoiding the reverse head butt.
Support her with your strong arms under her arm pits. Tell her of her magnificence. Repeatedly. Only move to the action end when you can see the new crown.
Catch your baby and raise him up to the deflated belly of his life force. Leave the cord and afterbirth alone. It will exit when ready and you can display your knotting ability, folding the red parcel over and under and through, then ease the knot towards your baby’s pink body.
Marvel at the oneness created by your baby suckling from the breast of your wife. Be amazed at their bond. Do not fuss and ask if he has had enough.
Do not allow another mammal to feed your flesh and blood with foreign milk, this will signal your seed to inflate your wife again giving you another baby every year.
Alright for those who ignore the laws of nature, but not advised for your sanity.
When all the fuss and adoration has eased, record the goodwill of your wife breastfeeding your newborn peacefully
and distribute that image each year to your family and friends.
It hasn’t been done as yet, and you may set a trend, dear wise man.

Nov 2009
There once was a bold, young lad named Brad Briggs. He sometimes made bad choices, but he lived in a Good City.
One night, after drinking way too much and meeting a fresh young lady, he decided to accompany her back to her house.
The lady, named Courtney, also sometimes made bad choices, so in that aspect, they were an ideal couple.
Her daddy may not have agreed, but absent fathers who have half raised daughters - who sometimes make bad choices -
often believe it has ‘nothing to do with them.’
Anyway, around midnight, Courtney and Brad giggled through her front door, announcing to the half asleep housemate they were
‘just having a bottle of wine,ok!’ because that is the way you ask permission to do a foolish thing.
Sophie, the ever asleep guard lab possibly woofed her disapproval, but then went back to chewing her pull along toy as Labradors do,
to ward off hunger pains.
Natalie, the unsuspecting house mate, may have been surprised and even annoyed when woken nine hours later by a knocking noise.
Was it her knees trembling as she realised a bold, young lad had stayed the night - who may or may not have murder most foul on his mind? Or was the knocking sound the can opener held in wet Sophie jaws with gentle slobber as a Labrador does a dead duck?
Possibly it was the front door responding to being beaten by an angry, young man named Nathan.
Nathan claimed exclusive Courtney ownership, and as is the strange choice with some young men, decided to declare it is mine, mine, mine with his fists.
The shirtless and shoeless, Brad Briggs was suddenly wishing he lived in Ballan, thankful he was well trained from slogging tennis balls
to immediately scale the back fence and grateful for his ability to zip up jeans as quickly as he could unzip.
Brad Briggs then had another choice to make. Would he continue pronto through the neighbour’s back yard or would he help himself to some extra covering? The white, long sleeved t-shirt hanging on the line looked just right, not too hot not too cold.
The blue velcrose runners at the back door were a bit suss but fitted fine and so Brad Briggs covered his torso and feet.
He was embarrassed indeed when the owner of the shirt appeared at the back door calling ‘puss, puss.’
Brad Briggs offered payment to the old man, who did not understand why his cat had turned into a young man and why his heart suddenly felt like having an attack. The old man did not want money, as he was unsure what would be expected in return.
Brad Briggs wanted refuge inside the old man’s home, from ‘those over there who are trying to bash me.’
That would not do at all thought the old man, who ushered the bashed along the garden path away from the bashers, down the side of the house to the front gate. Along the way the old man secretly admired the young man’s choice in shirts, musing he must still be fashionable as he had recently purchased one just like it.
Brad Briggs discovered his jeans still held his holy treasure intact, his mobile phone and thankfully the taxi company was already awake and working.
The old man quickly returned inside locking the back door firmly, to report to the old lady who was still doing her share of the snoring.
The old lady woke, listened to the garbled story and immediately rang 000. The young female Police Officers arrived moments after Brad Briggs departed in a Multi purpose taxi. The old lady’s first concern was for the welfare of Courtney and Natalie. Her second was for the return of her best gardening runners. The Police Officers checked on the young females and all still had their heads.
The old lady was unable to garden in her slippers and waited patiently for weeks for the return of her runners. Even Brad Briggs’ phone number would be useful for a gentle old lady type reminder. After all, Courtney’s post fight support friend Bonnie and collarless snarling dog Kye knew Brad Briggs, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to do the modern thing and text him.
Not listed in the book and no relatives listed to vouch for his words ‘I’ll bring them back. I promise.’
Oh Brad Briggs, Bradley Briggs to steal or to borrow?

Oct 2009
Monday morning Oath of Alligiance c 1960
Recited in unison with others, hand on heart, looking up at the flag:
"I love God
and my Country,
I honour our Flag
I serve our Queen
and cheerfully obey
my Parents, Teachers and the Laws"

Sunday night Oath of Hope c 2010
Chanted, with family, into the bathroom mirror:
"I have faith in my God.
I love my land, Australia.
I respect myself
and all other human beings.
I care for the land and all its creatures.
I will choose Right over Wrong,
Good over Evil
and Peace over War,
because I am the future."

Sep 2009
Deep in the back of any big chain variety store is the Plant Nursery and right in the back of that little sanctuary of fresh but humidly organic air, is the dead and dying section. This is usually a corroded metal stand missing one wheel that lurches out at the shopper with its burden of pitiful plants.
Some have one price sticker, but many have layers of prices each strangely ending in 1 cent. So, a plant that may have been originally expected to return the nursery $9.99 would now bring a sigh of relief at $2
and one cent.
The ones having a chance of being removed from the orphanage are not at the top, but buried behind vegetable seedlings that would be rejected by a starving baby rabbit. Catching clothing on bits of broken metal work is the added cost of the rescue mission...should you consider yourself an expert in resuscitation.
The top layer is expensive. Trays that held something at one stage of the growing process now, for 51 cents, could add 5 tablespoons to your garden bed of rather expensive dirt.
Pansies are the prettiest survivors of a swing in a plastic bag from the side of a shopping trolley and the occasional bump on the bus. Although a tasty treat to a curious possum, they are quick to revive from any neglect or unwelcome advances. if protected by a stockade of twigs and soon turn their delicate velvet faces and cheeky tongues to the sun.
Poking the plastic name tag adorned with stuttering yellow price stickers in behind the liberated plants, gives on going pleasure, as they are often intriguingly named with combinations of 'Lemon' and 'Berry' with the bonus of 'Ruffles' to cheer up the life guard as well as the flower bed.
May the creative naming consultatnt receive their one cent reward.

Aug 2009
Tummy aching, varicose vein throbbing
back creaking, heat pack working overtime
Cooking sherry looking good
come half past nine

I've got the 'Once every 28 days for 5 to 7 days' blues

Where does it all come from
as I scrub a red nighty clean
Suffer in silence is the reply
Why is nature so mean?

I've still got the 'Once every 28 days fer 5 to 7 days' blues

Just keepin' cotton workers workin'
and most of them fail the job
Do vampires need so many tea bags?
another stain and I start to sob

Why have I still got the 'Once every 28 days fer 5 to 7 days' blues

Loved all those pregnancies, I'm telling you
and all that breastfeedin'
such a luxury to have no bleedin'
Now I'm 56, lordy will my wish come true?
An end to my 'Once every 28 days, fer 5 to 7 days' blues

Just got a good dose of those 'Once every 28 days, fer 5 to 7 days' blues
I'll come good, don't dry my tears
I've just done 42 years,
of
'Once every 28 days fer 5 to 7 days' blues

I'm telling you


Jul 2009
As a child I nearly hid behind the back seat of the ‘53 Ford next to my sleeping siblings, when the pirates were invading the Swiss Family Robinson’s ideallic Island home. How would they overcome this terrible invasion of their tree top mansion? Would the family be forced to leave this paradise if they did survive? I managed to peek between the curtain of my fingers, yelling ‘Hoh’ in amazement when the ropes restraining a pile of poles were cut, bouncing them down on top of the baddies. My belief in the reality of the supposed headaches thus produced was considerably decreased by the echoing thunk of papier mache, hence my hoh, usually reserved for winning arguments with said siblings. If I ever had an island the entire foreshore would be rigged with real stringy bark rolley poleies!
As a teenager, my fascination with Island living was rekindled with the arrival into our sparse lounge room of ‘Gilligan’s Island’. A lifestyle worth hankering over, even allowing for the ‘Hoh! As if that would wash up just when they needed one’ constant reproach.
When the gambling casino in Tasmania opened in the early 70s, with never to be repeated specials, we briefly experienced - 3 nights for $99 - a small land mass surrounded by water, although difficult to see the defining horizons even from the top of the revolving restaurant.
Over the last few years in the course of family history research, it has been my pleasure to correspond with an actual Island inhabitant, Elsie.
I have learned much about the reality of living girt by sea. The ferry and windy weather has produced some hair raising events. The mud flats at low tide have created more. Livestock don’t always enjoy the prospect of a boat trip. The postman’s bicycle doesn’t always run on time in the sand. The local newspaper comes out 4 times a year. Fresh food deliveries were not always the case. Introducing rabbits as an instant food source quickly created the Saturday afternoon activity, the rabbit drive. Solar batteries have a life of eight years tops but lack of power means a choice between watching telly and vacuuming. Neighbours are also relatives and not always friends. Secrets are not a possibility. An argument may mean missing out on attending church rather than using Sunday as a debating forum. A night out at the movies required more planning than a picnic. Picnics may require a visit by helicopter to hospital in event of snake bite. Dances, weddings and other celebrations were all held in the Hall in the middle of the Island, the flooring being transported years later to a new site rather than ferrying in another.
How did Elsie become a castaway? Her parents were part of a group of 200 strong religious types wiiling to forgo the unemployment of the 1890s to set up ‘Village Settlements’ on French Island. As part of the Perserverance Settlement, little Elsie attended Church of Christ Sunday School lessons at the Harrop’s wattle and daub ‘pug’ home near Harrop’s Hill. ‘I know the Harrops were buried on the island. My husband was driving the truck with the casket in it.’
In a brief phone call this month I was astounded almost to Hoh in disbelief. I had been exchanging phone calls and cards with Elsie while she spent a few weeks ‘respite’ holiday on the mainland. After spending her life on French Island off the coast of Victoria, Australia and a few weeks shy of her 95th birthday, Margaret ‘Elsie’ Cox has gone to live with God.

Jun 2009
The first three weeks of June are the hardest. I wander aimlessly clicking my gardening scissors hopefully into every corner of the garden.
Each year all that blooms in the crisp air are white daisies with yellow centres okay for the kitchen, purple violets sweet for five minutes in the bathroom and a bunch of recalcitrant red berried cottoniasta as they droop forwards like an embarrassed teenager in the hallway.
I have tried the little yellow waxy flowers that cling to the bare sticks of the intensely scented Japanese All Spice, but always surrendered with a headache.
There is still no sign of jonquils also victors in the ‘you’ll never pick me alive’ garden competition. There are a few tiny pale white bells on the shrub I bought for our Pearl anniversary, hardly worth ruining the bush.
Soon the daphne will scent the front yard and house, until then the gloom of winter adds to my sunless mood and I wander further afield to the service station for a bunch of whateverthey’ve got.
Suddenly, with the intake of breath associated with the word, I spy with my tired eyes a few pale delicate flowers in a straggly clump.
Growing outside the ugliest and most neglected Public Toilets since the glam of fast food lighting attracted visitors to our city, is a rare species indeed.
An iris that blooms in June! A find to lift the spirit and give meaning to an oft spelt out loud name.
Hello little Juniris. My maudlin murmer is heard only by myself, as I continue homeward bound, hoping the unfurling mauve and yellow will help another heart.
I will be back with my multi-purpose gardening scissors in the summer, to do some neighbourhood gardening.

May 2009
Married for 36 years and gave each other a cold. Mine a chesty spluttery one, his of course an animalia based, panic attack inducing, near death experience resulting in you’ll have to sleep in the other bed so I can stretch out.
Day time required two boxes of tissues, one each side of the reclining telly viewing pretend theatre armchairs. Use of cola cup holders as temporary savers of cough lollies detered. And Why Not I asked as it was his wriggling that dislodged my lemon and honey tea into the reservoirs requiring a clean up rivaling a tanker spill.
Fortunately my body had sensed impending doom the previous day and I had trollied to the supermarket and purchased the makings of soup for lunches and had sliced and inserted enough garlic into a half leg of roast lamb to deter zombies or other nasally challenged creatures.
Numb from morning tv I presented his lunch time soup after sucessfully wading through a mine field of white scrunchies. Luckily he was still able to operate the remotes from under the folds of blanky and we watched countless nausea inducing fast forwards until finding something pre recorded.
Roast would have tasted good except constant cough lollies had forced taste buds to take refuge under a layer of tongue blanky, nose almost functional after sniffing steamy ‘Vicks’ under a towel. A dose of cough mixture promised sleep but didn’t deliver. The need to put bed socks on, sweat profusely so take bedsocks off, start sneezing from sudden influx of cold air into sauna bed, led to a blurry few hours before midnight. A blunder into the kitchen for water, followed by a perilous toilet break incorporating sneezing and bladder control finally settled the body to sleep in a bed where
by daybreak some force had tightly rolled the bedding to the right and up.
The morning revealed half sucked cough lollies stuck in various spots, a radio oozing out morning news although who knows when it was turned on and an inability to talk without needing to cough out furballs.
Only 5 more days of the same and all will be well.

Apr 2009
I don’t have to read a catalogue to smell a bargain, just the change of season brings on the last of summer leftovers as well as the promise of winter specials way too undersized for the impatient purchaser.
So it was with exhileration this week after a bracing morning coffee and a little too much walnut muffin, I made my way via the $300,000 white vehicle to hunt.
First a cautious flick through the bra section. One wrong move and they would all tumble, catching each others multi pronged moulded plastic coat hangers in a tangle to stretch even a mother’s patience. All the good sizes already gone of course. Never mind, should have skulled that coffee a little earlier.
Over to knickers. Pink overly bright but only $1:79 easily spotted. Then to dark brown pull on stretch trousers $9:99 with not a skerrick of cotton, made instead from the type of polyester that created permanently creased random folds from being in a packing box under an elephant.
Finally a rummage in the shoe bin to eventually locate under the treasure chest the exact pair of size 12 green leather sandals required for daughter. Found a stool to squat on and manoevered sandals onto one of my feet. Of course they were actually a size 9, could tell that from just looking.
Ooh said my stomache, all this bending is not going to end well.
I rushed my pile of proposed purchases to the checkout, trying to calmly ask the girl to ‘hold them’ for 20 minutes as I had suddenly developed indigestion, instead stammering bulb pen while dabbing away a line of perspiration from my upper lip.
I breathed deeply in the autumn air outside, holding onto a solar parking meter for cold comfort. A few steps away, the traffic lights and another cold pole. Across the road Public Toilets beckoned. A tree recieved a hug then I managed to prop open the main ladies door with my multi-purpose shopping bag, just in case sleeping on concrete floor all day until discovered became an accidental activity.
Less than 20 minutes later refreshed and definitely empty of any bodily fluids or solids, I returned to dear Dimmey’s to purchase lovely polyester trousers and the remainder of my bargains. They even let me use the change rooms. Golly I love Dimmey’s.

Mar 2009
Our family of five reunited and safe, even sang thanks in unison for the refreshing light showers.
All gathered to squabble as usual over food portions.
Youngest two looked fetching in their matching dappled grey,
first born a little scruffy as though he had been through tough times,
seniors calmly and proudly checking clean washing on line
before depositing graceful blobs
and flying up to tv arial to survey other mince options.

Feb 2009
We have had our own doses of smoke from the lake being on fire twice in the last 2 months.
Council has mowed around the edge trying to eradicate the ‘fairy grass’ that grows then blows into the rich people’s gardens.
On Sat 7th Feb we had all been warned of the dreadfully dangerous strong, hot northerly winds and extreme temperatures well in advance,
so when we spotted blue smoke from our back yard we assumed it was the lake again.
We kept watch on the apple and plum trees for embers, going out every 10 mins into the furnace blast,
but all was fine in our backyard. Found out the next day there was a garage fire 4 doors away!
Nothing of course compared to the tragedies throughout the state, including 2nd cousin old Bob Harrop of Flowerdale.

Jan 2009
Now, where was I...got up this morning ate vitabrits for breakfast and dressed in a red and white striped play suit
no, that was a while ago...
Bounced out of bed at 7am to dampen towels and sheets hanging around the house with the water bottle sprayer,
in an effort to maintain a reasonable internal temperature.
Sprayed self and fell back onto bed.
No magpies today - too hot
Fluffy still lives, accepted her breakfast as passable, grumbled throughout her daily brushing, reappeared at kitchen door an hour early for her miiilk.
Oh Black and White One flopped on black and white tiles ignoring his ping pong ball.
Washed up 2 days worth of dishes, as I didn't want to chase breakfast cereal around a dinner plate.
Bucketed shower water around back yard. Zucchini plants still surviving in vege patch.
Salads all finished, have to think of something else for tea. The box of felafel balls at the back of the freezer is starting to look tempting.
News reports the last 3 days of 40-45 degree temperatures a record.
I'd wear a wet hanky knotted in each corner on my head all day, but it might start a fashion trend.
Opted for triangular white wet face washer around back of neck.
Very alluring. Fetching in fact.

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Twitter,Twatter,Twaddle...

1:00am : Why does the snorer not hear themselves snore?
7:00am : Is a morning fart nature's alarm clock?
8:00am : Natural vs Created bed hair
9:00am : Cereal and peaches vs Raisin bread and tea.
9:30am : Sensodyne toothpaste is painfully cold.
10am : Is 3 ply toilet paper 3 times better?
10:30am : Have a "Hoh" tick ready when checking email.
11am : When walking, mutter "To the Left."
11:15am On the way to buy meat, whistle up any wandering dogs.
11:30am : "Moo" at anyone who wanders across the road.
11:45am : Give each bit of washing its own set of pegs.
12:30pm : Don't eat a ploughman's lunch unless you've dug a paddock.
1:00pm : Lunch time TV induces indigestion.
2:00pm : Only pat a cat until it drools.
2:15pm : Posties only deliver after you have checked the letterbox.
2:16pm : Once every thousand times, there will be a spider in the letterbox.
2:21pm : A watched for bus is always late.
2:30pm : For the sake of fack, don't swear in Public Spaces.
3:00pm : Cappucino is best when it is the last stamp on your card.
3:30 pm : A bus load of school bags tests everyone's patience.
3:35 pm : Resist the temptation to laugh at the 6 year old who yells out 'Bye Effin' to his mate
then winces at the reproach of his young mother, saying 'But that's what you call him!'
4:00pm : A home Roast of Everything is the easiest solution.
4:15pm : An armful of clean magpie poo free washing is a gift from God.
4:30pm : The 4:30pm News is not as gross as the 6pm News.
5:00pm : Why does the 'Mash' theme give me nightmares?
5:30pm : Torment the blowies with gravy smells.
6:00pm : Gravy always dribbles.
6:30pm : Avoid the mush that is 6:30pm telly by washing dishes.
7:00pm : Never miss the '7pm Report.' Hughsey is close.Very close.
7:30pm : Ring old people re family history research.
8:30pm : Guess who did it to the body in the Thames.
10:00pm : Sensodyne toothpaste is viciously cold.
10:30pm : Try out cotton wool earplugs.
12:00pm : Check backyard for noisy werewolf.


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5 Minute Australian comedy scripts for skits
suitable for film / video or stage production


copyright Juniris Harrop  2011 thejuniris@hotmail.com

"The Sounds of a Home"
Director will plan :
the number of adults in the house eg grandparents, divorce, remarriage, blended families
the number of children & pets to grow up in the house
the size, layout, upstairs downstairs etc
and the overall story of the sounds heard by the house

Darkened stage, silhouette of house / roof

Each actor has a set of sound effects to make at various intervals
and from various points on the stage
fading and less repitition to indicate passing of time
Voices/speech/ babble may be used only as an indication of human presence, rather than being the main sound effect

Flicker of light as matches are struck to light an open fire which burns low then brightly with each baby born
then flares and fades throughout play as children grow up and leave home and grandparents and old pets die

Sounds of woman in labour, new born baby crying then snuffling with sounds of nursing
Jingle of pet bells and toys, budgie, kitten, puppy
Door knockers and bells for front and side doors
Key in lock
Toddler footsteps in slippers with bells
Another newborn baby cry
Lullaby tinkly toy
Washing machine
Dryer
Drilling, hammering making things noises
Indoor ride-on toy scooting sounds
Tricycle bells
Fix me I'm sick bell
Third newborn baby sounds
Bath noises
Cat and dog collar bells no budgie bell
Come to dinner gong
Cutlery noises
Scraping of chairs
Radio tuned into various stations throughout the play
TV tuned to various chanels throughout the play
Creaking of specific floorboards as night time trips are made to toilet
Mid night train passing noises
Bicycle bells
Skate board / roller blade noises
Slamming doors, flapping flyscreens
Fly swats
Ceiling fans
Exhaust fans
Smoke detectors
Shower noises
Mobile phone tones
Text message received tones
Answering machine
Car / taxi horns
Lawnmower
Dog bell but no cat bell
Old style phone ring
Kettle noises
Ticking of one old fashioned clock



copyright Juniris Harrop  2011 thejuniris@hotmail.com
"Eggs delivered"
Establishing shot :
Mid morning country farm with hens in yard.
Ute drives down dusty drive towards camera and main road.
A row of 3 large country-style post boxes are visible beside the driveway
 eg a drum with ends cut out, a mini windmill on top of a packing box, an old style milk can
Interior of ute shot from passenger door side
Older male driving, dressed in clean work shirt
Older female dressed for town, is talking on mobile phone with one hand steadying a basket of egg cartons
Traffic is slow to pass, neighbors waving, tractors slowly towing equipment
Older female talks loudly into phone, "if you're out by the time we get there, we'll leave them in the letterbox"
Cut to Town shot
younger 'greens' student male strolls out of sharehouse to small letterbox
opens letterbox to flood of eggs & shells
young female joins him says "told you to order them on line"


copyright Juniris Harrop  2010 thejuniris@hotmail.com

• "Fan forced oven."
• "Cat Woman meets Dog Man."
• "Op Shop party."
• "A Westie Warning."
• "How I watch 'The 7pm Project'."
• "The Marooned Commodore."
• "The movie brief."

"Fan forced oven." copyright Juniris Harrop 28 December 2009 thejuniris@hotmail.com

Establishing shot :
Exterior of a double storied university student share house in Inner city Melbourne.
Derelict bike on front verandah, along with a supermarket trolley, rubbish and recycling bins.
'Invisible camera operator' zooms in on a sign in the front window “Primary aged students tutored in English every Tuesday night”
'Invisible camera operator' zooms in on a “Merry Chrissmas” wreath made by a child which is taped with grey packing tape to the front door.

'Invisible camera operator' sneaks camera over to the recycling bin.
Shot of inside of Recycling bin shows a bin full of empty beer cans as well as 'green' drinks - Juice Bar containers, orange juice bottles.

Interior of Student share house
'Invisible camera operator' takes us down the entrance hall, past a fancy 'double decker' shopping trolley with an empty large cold storage bag.
'Invisible camera operator' lets us peek swiftly into 2 front rooms which have mattresses with sleeping bags on the floor and overnight bags.

Interior shot from door into lounge / dining area with kitchen in background.
A side exit door leads to the backyard.
Table in dining area is up against the wall and is covered with Xmas wrapping paper, pistachio nut shells and chocolate wrappers.
The old lounge is covered with new socks, underpants and nighties, labels still attached and several paper receipts lay in a pile.
The focus and sound is on the father aged about 47 - 57 years, 2 adult sons and adult daughter all aged between 18 and 30 years
relaxing after opening Christmas presents in the dining / lounge area,
but the action is with mother.
Mother is ‘of menopausal age’ about 45 - 55 year, flushed and a bit ditzy, slaving in kitchen stirring gravy, microwaving peas,
noisily swapping ill fitting trays around in the oven,
each time being almost knocked over by a blast of hot air from the fan forced oven.
A bad Xmas cd is playing,possibly a school concert recording, adult daughter keeps resetting it with remote control to the worst track - the 12 days of Christmas -
while lovingly admiring her new ‘Vanessa Amorosi’ cd
Father has reluctantly surrendered his laptop computer to Adult Son 1

Adult son 1 explaining the failings of Father’s laptop to all
Son 1 “I could probably fix that if you want to leave it with me overnight”
Father has an expression of horror as though remembering other fixing attempts.
Son 1 “ I can down load a program right now that will allow you more ease of use....”

Father has new beer stubby holder with a ‘green’ beer and seems to be listening while absorbed in de-pipping olives with olive pitter.
“I see how this works...”

Adult son 2 playing with Christmas gifts - putting spare change into a money bottle that counts the amount
and reading the instructions on a 'Bonsai Potato' kit.

Mother: “Table!” and makes a sweeping motion with left arm as her right hand is struggling to hold a tray of roasted vegetables.

Others pause in mid sentence then continue talking.
Son 1 “I’m tapping into the upstairs ...wireless network”
Son 2 “I took $250 in small change to the bank last year... It filled my backpack and two carry bags”
Daughter “I used to play this ... on the clarinet at school”
Father “I could get used to this ... ‘green’ beer”

Mother’s attention is taken by finding a large mug, then ‘sterilising’ it for the gravy as there is no jug in any cupboard.
Mother turns around to see no action has occured.

Mother : “Table!” growled through gritted teeth smile.

Father : “We may need to clear all this. Now.”

Son 2 makes as though he may do the magician’s trick of pulling the table cloth from under everything.

Son 1 : “No..." and laughingly indicates his preferred option of wrapping all rubbish into the tablecloth and tucking it behind the couch.

Daughter scoops all rubbish into a blue plastic ‘Patient’s Clothing’ carry bag as sons rescue uneaten chocolates and bowl of de-pitted olives, just in time,
then she shrugs and stuffs the bag behind the couch.

Son 1 continues to hold lap top computer in right hand, while helping Son 2 turn the table around and into position in the centre of room.

Chairs are arranged, blocking the side exit doorway,
plates and knives & forks are distributed.


son 1 continues explanation of computer uses / operational details
Son 1 “If this doesn’t work then...Ah! So Close...nah, no go” as he reluctantly abandons computer to the top of the pile of underwear
and drains his glass of Coke Zero.

Mother strips off apron
Mother: “Toilet” as she heads to the blocked door and gives up after futile attempts to squeeze past still talking son 1
Son 1 “ The new programs are 100% better than this crap”

Son 2 “Mum. Use the upstairs one”

Sound catches the family passing hot trays of vegetables, bowl of peas, balls of stuffing and re heated, pre sliced turkey and ham,
using folded old teatowels as oven mitts.
Son 2 “Hot. Hot. Hot.” as he neglects to take the mitt.
Daughter “Just use the tongs to grab a load. Don’t name each bit”
Father “ Will this be enough turkey for everyone?”

'Invisible camera operator' and sound withdraws from dining /kitchen area to follow mother up the first flight of steep stairs
then leads her up the remaining few, which she crawls.

'Invisible camera operator' waits outside bathroom to sounds of huffing, sneezing, splashing water and nose blowing.

'Invisible camera operator' follows mother’s cautious grunting descent clutching the banister
sound of kitchen conversation takes over
Son 1 “Coke Zero?”
Son 2 “Orange Juice”
Daughter “Proper Coke!”
Mother squeezes into her chair, then observing everyone else drinking, looks at her empty glass
Mother “Water?”
As the computer instruction is still ongoing, mother rises and gets a glass of tap water
Son 1 “When this is up and running you’ll be able to watch videos”


Father is seated with back to camera.
Father raises his stubby as a salute
“Good idea having Christmas here. Thank you for inviting us young man. Makes me proud.” Nods to Son 2 “Much easier on Mum.”
Mother splutters into glass of water.
Daughter “So, how was your operation, Mum?”
Mother looking bemused: "Just a wee"
Daughter impatiently : "Not just now!" nodding towards upstairs toilet "I meant a couple of weeks ago!"
Father interrupts “Picnic compared to mine. Want to see my scar?”
Father rises and prepares to down trousers.

'Invisible camera operator' trips over in scurry to catch the money shot

Fade to black


Back to 5 Minute skits


"Cat Woman meets Dog Man." copyright Juniris Harrop 9 Jan 2010 thejuniris@hotmail.com

Part 1
Establishing shot:
An old woman aged about 80 yrs is feeding 3 cats at her back door.
Interior shot:
Same old woman scraping cold ashes from her woodfired stove into a bucket which she then carefully tips into a shoe box,
puts on the cardbord lid and places it next to 2 other shoe boxes on her kitchen bench.
She then rips up newspaper and shoves it into the firebox, covering it with bits of bark and chips of wood, lights it shakily with a match, then closes the fitrebox door. She fills and slides a kettle into place on the stove.
Outdoor shot:
Same old woman pushing a trolley along a footpath, a shoebox balanced on top of various bags. A small shovel is visible.
In the distance we can see a Cemetery.
Outdoor shot:
Same old woman patting a shoebox sized mound of dirt at the foot of an old grave site.
Indoor shot:
Same old woman sitting in a chair in front of her stove enjoying a cup of tea.

Part 2
Establishing shot:
An old man about 80 yrs old feeding 3 dogs at his back door.

Part 3
Establishing shot:
A long shot. The front gate of Cemetery
The old man and old woman can be seen in the distance approaching the Cemetery from opposite directions.
It is another day, different clothes.

Part 4
Interior shot old woman’s kitchen
The old man and old lady are enjoying a cup of tea.
Old Woman “ Well, then she said to me, she said, ‘try burning the kitty litter’ and I thought, I don’t have a litter of kittens”
Old Man “ Did you get some?”
Old Woman “ A litter of kittens? Yes. I got some all right. That Spring there was a litter of kittens right enough”
Old Man “ What are they like?”
Old Woman, warming her hands at stove, “ Good. Very good.”
Old Man, reflects deeply, then says, “My friend told me dogs are the best. Dogs keep you warm at night.”

Part 5
Interior shot of old man's lounge room.Photos of his dogs adorn walls, cushions are dog embroidery, nicknacks are dog themed.
Old Woman and Old Man are seated demurely at opposite ends of the couch.
A litter of kittens (in a basket) meows playfully between them.
Old Man : "I like your pussies."
Old Woman as she sidles closer, "Meow"
They embrace awkwardly to the sounds of squished/ panicking kittens.

Part 6
Interior shot of Old Woman's lounge room. Photos of cats adorn walls, curtains are cat patterned, nicknacks are cat themed.
The Old Woman and Old Man are seated close together on the couch. Two pups romp over them.
Old Woman "Thank you for the pups. Do you like my puppies?"
Old Man "Woof"
They begin to remove each others cardigans, covering the pups to muffled dog whimpering sounds.

Part 7
Establishing shot, Exterior shot of graveyard.
The Old Man and Old Woman are holding hands in front of an old grave
embellished with a row of shoebox sized mounds of dirt around the edge.
Some alyssum plants are blooming over the grave
Old Man "Was very clayey soil."
Old Woman "Needed some fertilizer"

Part 7
Interior of Old Woman's lounge. A mixture of dog and cat cushions, curtains and nicknacks.
Old Woman's daughter has some pamplets and is trying to have a conversation about shifting into a retirement home.
Old man is wearing Old Woman's cardigan, unbuttoned. Old Woman is wearing Old Man's cardigan incorrectly buttoned.
Old Woman's daughter : "I think you may have dementia" She repeats dementia, pronouncing the word slowly.
Old Woman standing up from the couch and fluffing a cushion as if to clear the air " I didn't realise I'd farted"
Old Woman turns to re-arrange the cushions, bending over the couch and actually farts loudly
Old Man thinking it was himself : "I beg your pardon"
Old Woman's daughter gasps for air, gurgling.
Old Woman "Don't mention it" pronouncing the words as slowly as her daughter.

Back to 5 Minute skits

"Op Shop party." copyright Juniris Harrop 10 Jan 2010 thejuniris@hotmail.com

Establishing shot:
Big bins overflowing with ‘donations’ outside a supermarket.
Establishing shot 2:
a kalidescope / slideshow of 3 women in their 50s trying on a multitude of Summer styled green & gold clothes, shoes, scarves, beads, hats
in several different change rooms at different Opportunity / Thrift / Secondhand clothingShops
Some outfits look good but reveal problems:
- a twirl shows the zipper struggling to close
- rear view shows the trousers have saggy 'elephant' bum.
- trying to walk in high heels makes knees bow.
- movement creates static
- impregnated perfume smell is overpowering
Each woman begins to show the strain of shopping and trying on clothing with hair becoming dishevelled,
blisters / limping, constant swigging at water bottles.

Establishing shot 3:
Exterior of a church run Op Shop, in the Supper Hall / Sunday School, sign on front door lists opening hours.
The three women in their 50s each carrying bags full of clothing, approach hastily looking at watches,
open door and almost shove each other aside to get in.
Interior of Church Op Shop:
Church Lady 1 : “Just in the nick of time ladies. Are you looking for anything in particular?”
Woman 1 “Green and Gold outfits for an Australia Day party Size 14”
Woman 2 subtly correcting Woman 1 “Maybe size 16 or even 18”
Woman 3 is already scanningthe clothing racks.

Church Lady 1 disappears into back room, whispers to Church Lady 2 who is sitting down with her feet up, holding a cup of tea
and balancing 2 chocolate slices on a plate
Church Lady : 1 "Where's that horrible gold thing we were going to toss out"
Church Lady 2 is too tired - and has a mouthful of slice - to speak, so she nods to a box in the corner marked Tip.
Church Lady 1 reappears with a polyester gold dress.
Church Lady 1 : “This just came in...$4”
Woman 2 “That’s you!” indicating Woman 1
Woman 3 holding up a green pants suit “Look. Mother Nature!”
Woman 1 “Try on?”
All nod enthusiastically as Church Lady 1 points the way to the toilets which double as a change room.

Interior of ‘change room’ which has 2 mirrors, one resting on the floor, the other attached to the wall above it, giving a broken 'clown arcade' reflection.
Marg puts the lid down and takes a seat on the toilet, stretching her legs and cooing reassuringly at both outfits.

Exterior of same Church Op Shop
Church Woman 2 is bringing in the sign as the three women bustle out.
Woman 3 “Thanks again. You wouldn’t believe how many beads I’ve tried on, but these are just right.”
Others pat their shopping bags contentedly.
Woman 2 “And thanks for the cuppa, my tongue was sandpaper”
Woman 1 “ You should have stopped admiring that young man at the Salvos a bit sooner”
Woman 3 “ Ok All set then? See you at my place 8pm sharp.”
Woman 2 checking watch which is only 2pm “Good. Plenty of time for tea and a little nanna nap first”
Woman 1 “This Australia Day party will be The Hottest Yet!”
Woman 2 flushed with menopause "Thanks Sherlock!"

Establishing shot : Night time 10 pm. Exterior of house where a party is in full swing.
Shot from across the street.
Front door opens and our 3 women exit, carrying shoes and hats, slamming the door behind them.
Woman 1 yelling a parting shot over her shoulder : "Well don't be expecting an invite to our party next year!"
The 3 women are hobbling along the warm footpath in single file
Woman 1 “Bloody bugger bitch bum”
Woman 2 “Bitch bitch bitch”
Woman 3 : “Why didn't she warn us?"
Woman 2 : "Probably getting us back for not inviting her on our last cappuccino crawl."
Woman 3 : "Do you think she was wearing her togs?”
Woman 1 snorting “Needed ironing”
Woman 2 “ All body paint, just body paint”
All sigh and shake their heads, blink and squint eyes as though trying to erase an unwanted mental picture.
Woman 3 twirling in her lovely green "Mother Nature" pants suit “She probably only spent 5 minutes and $5”

Back to 5 Minute skits


“A Westie Warning.” copyright Juniris Harrop 15 Jan 2010 thejuniris@hotmail.com

A One Act Play
Sign at rear of Stage says ‘Licensed Supermarket’
5 sets are required
The Stage divided in half
Stage left doubles as set for
Set 1 Baby Feed and Change Room
and
Set 3 Bottle Shop of Licensed Supermarket

Stage Right doubles as Public Lady’s Toilet
and
Set 4 The 12 items or less checkout of Supermarket

To be brought on to Stage front centre - A bus silhouette (the lower half of a passenger bus) with at least 3 windows
and a driver’s seat at front. ‘Doors’ at front and towards rear.

Set 1 - Baby feed and change room
Set 2 - Lady’s toilet

Mother in Baby Feed and Change room is preparing to purchase drugs. There is no baby or pram.
Mother “Where did I put the friggen thing?”
6 year old boy “What are you looking for, Mummy? I can find it for you”
Mother angrily “Not friggen lolly pops, that’s for sure, sticky beak!”
6 year old boy moves quickly to protect his 3 year old brother.
Mother’s Girlfriend “Yous two’d be better off having a play next door” and she ushers them out into a dark space between the 2 sets
A white curtain descends or two stage hands dressed in black wheel on a white sheet nailed to a frame
and the 2 women become dark silhouettes lit from behind.
Enter the shadow of a stranger and the 3 engage in a drug purchase.

Children cautiously enter Lady’s Toilet from the dark space in between the sets
There is no one in the toilet cubicles.
6 year old boy breathing a sigh of relief “My turn first” and he swings around a support pole, then does a ‘sexy giration.’
3 year old boy stands back respectfully.

Old lady enters Lady’s Toilet, nearly colliding with a pair of swinging legs.
3 year old’s eyes widen in surprise and suspicion.
Old Woman surveys the scene then says in a No Nonsense Voice “Where is your mother? Does she know you are in here?”
Old Woman proceeds to a cubicle without waiting for an answer, as she (sound effect) locks the cubicle, the boys continue to play.
The 6 year old is standing on the bench, leaning over the pole and encouraging his little brother.
6 year old “Hold on tight. Now put that hand up higher, now the other hand.”
The 3 year old is struggling to haul himself up the pole, doing little bunny hops.
A white curtain descends or two stage hands dressed in black wheel on a sheet nailed to a frame and the 2 boys freeze in bunny / funny / childish silhouettes as the action returns to Set 1

Set 1 - Baby feed and change room
Mother giggling “Shit that’s fun.”
Girlfriend with resignation “May as well wait til we get home.” Then, with inspiration “Let’s go get some cans of Bourbon and Coke.”
Girlfriend leaves Baby Feed and Change Room and yells to the 2 boys.
Girlfriend “Come with us now”

Set 2 - Door of Lady’s Toilet
The Old Woman is still in the cubicle (sound effects may include wind-pain noises and two flushes of toilet)
The 2 boys quickly stop playing/ giggling when they hear the repeated command "Come with us now"
and the 2 boys exit the Lady’s Toilet into the dark space between the two sets.

Set 1 - Baby feed and change room
The two women leave unwanted rubbish on the floor / seat and exit the Baby Feed and Change room, drag the 2 boys from the dark space with a ‘hurry up’ and point as an explanation towards the Licensed Supermarket.
Exit stage right

Set 1 is removed from behind the curtain which lifts or two stage hands dressed in black wheel wheel it off, revealing
Set 3 Bottle Shop of Licensed Supermarket

Set 2 - Door of Lady’s Toilet
The Old Lady exits Lady’s Toilet rearranging clothing in a double double-check, looks up at Supermarket sign, checks her watch and scabbles in purse for list and shopping bag then heads off with cloth carry bag ready over arm. Exit stage right.

Set 2 is removed from behind the white curtain then lifted or two stage hands dressed in black wheel it off, revealing
Set 4 The 12 items or less checkout of Supermarket

Set 3 Bottle Shop of Licensed Supermarket
The 2 boys are swinging on the security bars, occasionally setting off the ‘bing bong’ alarm.
The cash register operator looks at them with a bored expression.
The 2 women are perusing the cold cans of Bourbon and Coke at the back of the store.
The Girlfriend pays for 6 cans of Boubon & Coke and 6 cans of Coke Zero
Cash Register operator “You want a bag with that?”
Girlfriend looking for an argument : “Of course I do! Two of them! We’ve got to carry them a long way. Do you expect the kids to carry them?”
Cash Register operator puts each 6 pack into a separate plastic bag.
The Mother uses the distraction to quietly steal a small bottle of whisky which she tucks into her boot / pocket.
As they Exit the ‘bing bong’ alarm goes off
Mother yelling angrily “Stop mucking around. That noise is driving me crazy”
The cash register operator glances over at the 2 clear plastic bags one held by each woman and decides to serve the next customer.
The 2 Women and 2 boys exit stage left

Set 4 The 12 items or less checkout of Supermarket
Old Woman is chatting with Cash Register Operator while holding open her other shopping to be checked and packing her few purchases into her cloth carry bag.
Old Woman : “Lucky me beating the queue. I’ll be in time for the bus as well”
Cash Register Operator automatically “Do you want a bag with that” then laughing as she realises she has already been shown the shopping bag “Of Course not, silly me. Sometimes I forget to see (pause ) and hear things.”
Old Woman exits stage left.

Set 5 Bus at stage front is slid / wheeled on by stage hands dressed in black.
(Bus may be lower half only, allowing action to be seen and chairs used as seats.)
Driver on seat at front opposite front door (sound effect of door opening / closing)
Passengers can be seen through at least 3 large windows.
Old Woman (sound effect) as she swipes her card “Not a very long wait, I suppose”
Driver : “ Not long”
Old Woman sits halfway down the bus. Arranges her shopping on her lap in case others need the seat next to her.
A few other passengers get on.
A woman pops her head through the bus door and asks the driver “Does this go to the West?”
Driver indicates towards the sign on the front of the bus “I hope that’s what it says”
The driver checks his watch, (sound effect - closes the doors), checks for traffic, (sound effect -clicks on the indicator) when the 2 boys suddenly appear at the bus door followed by the Mother and Girlfriend both out of breath and banging on the closed door (sound effect)
Driver (sound effect opening door) “Lucky”
2 Boys squeeze past the adults and sit in the space reserved for prams.
Mother : Rumaging in bag, hoping driver will wave her on. “I’ve got tickets somewhere. I think they may have expired. Here..” swiping a card “That’s still good.”
Girlfriend goes to the seat behind the old lady and sits down.
Mother : “ I guess I will have to pay for another ticket.” Presents driver with $10 and waits impatiently for the change.
Mother “Come on boys up the back”
Boys obediently follow mother. 3 year old pauses, wide eyed when he recognises the Old Lady, then sits next to his brother who has swung on the pole and into the seat.
Driver (sound effect - closes the doors), checks for traffic, (sound effect -clicks on the indicator and soft sound effects of travel / traffic)
Girlfriend : “ Told you”
Mother : “Geez I’m looking forward to getting home and getting wasted. I am so having a long shower as soon as I step inside. Stuff Water Restrictions!”
(Sound effect) Drink can opening.
Mother “Here have one of my cokes. Coke Zero. I was good girl to pick that, eh?””
Girlfriend “Ta”
Mother : “Pass me one of those Bourbons will ya?”
Girlfriend : "Can’t you wait til we get home?”
Mother: (sound effect of can being opened) “Oops. How did that happen”
Passenger behind Mother and Girlfriend “Hey! You can’t drink grog on the bus.”
Another Passenger, possibly an ‘Old Drunk’ “Nah. Not unless you’ve got enough for everybody.”
Old Lady turns to Mother and Girlfriend and speaks in her No Nonsense Voice : “ Are you drinking alcohol on the bus? First I see your 2 boys playing in the Ladies Toilets without an adult in sight and now you’re drinking alcohol on the bus!”
Mother “Do you work for freaken Social Security? Well we’ve got our case covered already.”
Old Lady “Maybe I do.”
Mother continues to drink from can of Boubon.
Old Lady “Excuse me, Driver! There is alcohol being consumed on the bus.”
Driver pulling into Bus Stop (sound effect of indicator and doors opening) “Get Off!”
Mother to Old Lady : “I’d give you what you deserve, but you are Old”
Girlfriend “Don’t make a fuss. You know what happened last time!”
The 2 boys exit back door of bus followed by Mother who has been quickly ushered off the bus by her Girlfriend.
Old Lady as a parting shot “Did YOU teach them pole dancing?”
Driver quickly shuts the back door as Mother looses any control over her life that she may have had.
Mother screaming “Whatever happens to them now, is down to you!”
Mother walks threateningly over to boys then struts back to the bus “I’ve had a good look at you and I’ll be keeping a lookout for you.” pointing at her own eyes then back at the bus load of passengers.
New passengers are getting on the bus, partly obscuring the ranting Mother who continues to pace and yell.
Another Old Lady who has just got on the bus “Are they friends of yours?”
Old Lady shrugging “Bar of Soap. Don’t know them from a Bar of Soap”
Another Old Lady : “Could do with a mouth wash that one.”
Old Lady “I’ve been warned, that’s for sure, along with several free adjectives!”
Bus driver (sound effects ) closes doors, checks traffic, puts on indicator and drives.
Curtain closes enough to cover the Bus, revealing the 2 boys swinging around the Bus Stop pole in a spotlight.

Back to 5 Minute skits


"How I watch 'The 7pm Project." copyright Juniris Harrop  2010 thejuniris@hotmail.com


Done the dishes without being asked or told and no whingeing and it wasn’t even my turn.
Hand lotion is too runny. Must buy the original intensive sort, but thank you for trying anyway, lotion company. Elbows done with the excess, sleeves rolled back down.
I place cup of tea on the lovingly made little table in the lounge and balance plate out of reach of ‘that looks nice’ range. Bread and butter plate is adorned with a slice of spoils from last visit to Melbourne, a chocolate infused croissant type plaited roll, now hewn into mouth sized bits.
I sit. I pull recline button. Feet go up, but aeroplane does not take off. I peel off right leg varicose vein support, a length of trusty tubigrip. I lay it over my leg where it may stay, stay, stay or slide off onto the floor or somehow down the side of the couch.
I pick up glasses case, remove tv watching glasses polish them with own especially supplied rag. Put on glasses, transform into old librarian.
Nestle head into anti-madagascar hair lotion cover and elbows relax on anti - Vaseline hand lotion covers.
Hear Megaphone Charlie announce ‘Starting Now!’ Close eyes for flashing bits in case epilepsy Starts Now aged 56.
Look at panalists clothing. My! Doesn’t gayboygeek suit Charlie. That tie looks so cute with the squared checked pattern, much more arty than rectangles. The summery short sleeves looking flirtacious balanced by the butler efficiency of the dark vest. Maybe his clothes inspire the A+ biro twiddling routine.
Pity I had to Return Immediately for Cash Back my selection of totally unacceptable don’t ever buy me clothes again Christmas fashion checks.
Oh goody Denise is on, an informed point of humour.
Doesn’t she keep her grey hair a nice shade of ash blonde. Also, good management of chest scaffolding.
Admire prettydoll Carrie, getting a bit too skinny now. Recall all her naughty segments on Rove and wonder who is cuddling her baby. Forget to look at any news, which has been on radio all day any way. Raise leg onto cushion for increased relief.
Ad break. Drink a bit of now cooled tea and a mouthful of yum.
Furniture ad prompts Old Man to recall “Remember that stupid movie with Barbra Striesand in it. The base was over by the heater and the bauble was way over the other side of the room. Well I saw one like that and it was $800 in silver or white, but we only want a two bulb stand for behind the couch, don’t we? She hit Ryan O’Neil with it. ‘What’s up Doc’ that’s it.”
Must remember not to press mute next ads.
Log on to our webpage for tickets or to vote on something incredibly unimportant...but I’m watching telly. Don’t make me go back down to that torture box made in 2005 and in need of an axe attack.
And back to 7pm Project.
Ooh Hughsey is loosing it, the chunky bits that is, such a sexy beast. Wonder who is cuddling his baby? Is he baking another one yet? Will he take a bit of time off to relax with his little family? Doesn’t he know babies don’t keep.
Another swig of tea, a swallow and taste of Melbourne.
Some ‘wouldn’t you think’ moments commented on efficiently by Hughsey, when the reception starts to click and clack must be going to rain because the screen freezes Hughesy in a bizarre impressionist painting right in the middle of a tongue in cheek smirk.
Then with another click and clack motion is restored and some expert is on, being made to look even more educated by a split screen. Last one I saw gave a commanding appearance as a young Lurch with his deep black eyebrows, black hair and black coat. Real people for real viewers.
Then another ad break. Finish off tea and sweet stuff.
Michael Buble pretending to be sweaty and sporty.
Fat people being tortured until they haven’t the breath to say No, stop poking me with a stick!
The gruff man speaks menacingly about a flashy movie.
The place with a pond and no fence where your kids can drown for free while you sit in a doublestoried box.
Then a new 7pm guest. What are they plugging and how come they don’t have to Earn Their Plug?
More whip around. The stars of each State barely get to draw breath. Could we see a week where “Holding it til you turn blue” could be an entire segement?
That’s all. Over too soon. If I hurry I can still use the hose for half an hour. No I think we’ve changed to drips later on at night.
Oh well upsadaisy. Find elusive leg support. Find end of leg. Toes. I can still reach them. Pull on leg support. Push down on foot raiser bit of couch. Oops. Coleslaw. Can I blame that on the squeaky chair? If I shuffle loudly into slippers, maybe I’ll be clear before the zephyr finds a nostril.Til tomorrow dear '7pm Project.'

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"The Marooned Commodore." copyright Juniris Harrop  2010 thejuniris@hotmail.com

After settling into bed at 10 pm I mistakenly thought it would be easy to drift off after the tedium which is now ‘The Bill’
However, after trying the usual cotton wool barrier and comfy positions, I removed my old self at midnight from the exhausted snoring of a man who had spent all day sniffing paint fumes, which were not diluted by a light beer or two.
In the absence of traffic and singing drunks waltzing by, the quiet of the visitor’s bedroom allowed me to listen to the 1am news then actually fall asleep.
At 2am the ‘look at me, look at me’ sound of unnecessarily fast acceleration out of the roundabout, squeal of brakes, and metallic sonic boom of car on parked car ended sleep.
Suddenly we are living downtown Brooklyn on the set of ‘The Wire.’
I raised my weary body from the visitor’s bed and called out that I was ringing the police straight away, before bothering to look outside.
In the ever alert state of a young mother of three toddlers, the calm Police Officer assesed my garble and promised a drive by.
A bleary husband reported ‘nothing to be seen, must be up at the roundabout’ and was about to return to bed, when I took over his venetian blind spot and pondered out loud the significance of a maroon Commodore parked across the road in front of Ed’s, whose car was now nicely positioned in the shadow of the tree on the nature strip.
I struggled into my new dressing gown, removed it, removed the price tags, took the the belt tie from the hanging loop and threaded it through the belt loops, pulled it back on, then proceeded outside.
Several neighbours had done the same, our confused sleepy voices carrying nicely on the night air, bringing us together in a way we are unable to achieve in the business of daylight.
“Ed doesn’t usually park there. Does he?”
“He must be away again, surely that noise would have woken him!”
“Good grief! That fence is on an angle.”
“The air bags have gone off.”
“Did you see them run off that way? Was there only two?”
The Police arrived, heard the ‘ran that way’ comment and executed a satisfying u-turn to give chase.
Thinking the show was over, we all returned to bed.
A drink of water and toilet stop later, bright movie lights heralded the arrival of the Police and time for part 2.
A divvy van! There’s a divvy van parked in front of our house and across the road there’s another police van!
They’ve got ‘em! Wow.
Then snatches of ‘The Marooned Commodore’ drift across to us. A young woman without shoes is led out of the divvy van and across the road where two officers are escorting a sturdy but unsteady male.
“Is this maroon Commodore the car you were travelling in earlier?”
Must have been confirmed by the female, as she is led back to her divvy van and asked the name of her male friend. Something in her alchohol brain advises her to fib, but not convincingly enough. “ I don’t know. Scott or Dan, something like that.”
“We’ll get your shoes for you, later.”
From across the road we hear “Right Daniel. Is this your vehicle? Were you the passenger or driver?”
Daniel’s alchohol and or drugged brain insists on deny, deny, deny. “I haven’t driven that car since ...” pause for brain strength... “last year!”
Followed by “Get your hands off me. Oh all right search my pockets then.”
“Would these car keys fit that car?” No one bothers to try them. “Daniel! Right now it’s just a traffic accident, no one was hurt. No need for judges and court. Don’t lie to us Daniel. We found your wallet under the front seat.”
Daniel is allowed thinking time and rests his frame against Ed’s fence while a calming cigarette does more brain destruction work.
The bright lights are turned off and the conversation quietens after another neighbour, also choosing to wear a very new dressing gown, speaks briefly to Police.
Vehicles depart. The show is going down town. The Marooned Commodore sits alone in the spotlight.
The audience settles to sleep.

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"The movie brief." copyright Juniris Harrop  2010 thejuniris@hotmail.com

I have hardly bothered to work out the multiple functions of the new remote control, knowing it will soon run out of battery life and so be renewed by another new system. The batteries of course proving impossible to purchase, as has been the case in many ‘on special’ purchases in the past.
Dear paint splattered husband inspired my afternoon’s viewing out of the heat of the day, by clicking several butttons to reveal a list of movie briefs overlaid onto our telly screen.
The one on chanel 72 revealed an exciting Sunday arvo movie, one neither of us could recall seeing at the drive-in or repeated yearly over summer off ratings periods:
“Comedy about an elderly dowager, unaware that she is now penniless and her faithful butler tries to help her. Two rival gangs fight for control of a Mexican border town and the money to be made there in selling contraband whiskey and guns for the Mexicans and Indians”
Starring Dick Van Dyke I spent an hour watching Fitzwilly occasionally pretending to be drunk and creating goosing induced almost Marx brothers mayhem at Christmas time in a large department store.
The fellow who looks like a trimmer Robert Morley but actually answering to the name of John McIver, was resplendant in an orange and black striped vest and a perfect butler.
The appearance of ‘99’ from Get Smart made me realise the movie was made in 1967 with a decided slant towards nice tweed clothes, neat haircuts and correct values. The value of the afternoon being : ‘naughtiness may be fun to dally in, but it definitely doesn’t pay.’
The ‘kookie talk’ of the 1950s reminded me of the desperate nature of many adults in the 1960s as they tried to be groovy by using the ‘square’ or ‘hip’ talk of the decade before.
I laughed at the well groomed actor Sam Waterson wondering if he foresaw his current grizzled status in the Criminal Justice System.
In the crowd sceens, was one extra who may have had asian parents, one woman whose parents might have been related to an african american and a solitary police officer whose hispanic parentage was in question.
Although there was a little champagne sipped fom saucer shaped glasses, right till the closing shots I awaited the arrival of gun toting, whiskey swilling Mexicans and Indians.
Sort of put me off watching The first of May. “A young orphan boy mistakenly thinks his foster parents are going to abandon him when his foster mother becomes pregnant. In order to solve a killing, a public defender brings an insane witness into court.”

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