Second Chance Part 3.

Various hats and coats hang on the stand pegs. Most are only
visiting and some we never see again. A few are friendly but
the majority are rather aloof. There is a cloche hat (so old
fashioned) which Mrs.Carobeanie (Snr) wears out shopping. She
rarely talks and when she does it is to say nasty things about
the ladies not wearing hats, which is nearly every lady these
days. Gran tells her 'to behave' but she never listens. Mrs.
Carobeanie (Snr) often looks like she has stepped out from a book
about the Roaring Twenties. Except on Sundays when she wears a
fluffy rose toque hat to church, then she looks like the Queen of
England. That hat does not live on the stand but sometimes does
visit just after church till after lunchtime when Mrs. Carobeanie
takes her up stairs, when Mrs. Carobeanie goes for 'her nanny'
nap as the children call it. The toque hat says "It it is a sad
sight at church. There are only a handful of older ladies wearing
hats now. Once there were a sea of hats and it was so exciting
trying to find the plainest and the most glamorous. Now she is
the best of a poor bunch. Soon no one will wear hats." Each
Sunday she describes all the hats and we agree with her she seems
to be the best of a poor bunch.

There is a closet next to the hall stand and in there are also many
hats and coats, also rain coats and gum boots. They rarely come to
the hall stand buit when they do visit they tell us how lucky we
are and how envious they are of us. "It is a terrible thing to be
kept in the dark and away from the light, it makes one sooo depressed."
They say.

Then there is of course myself. To the naked eye, I was a gentleman's
umbrella, dark ebony black material stretched over reinforced spines
to form my panels. A dark highly polished teak handle, but I had
secret assets. My head came off when the handle was twisted left, to
reveal a sharp pointed blade. When the handle was twisted right part
of the handle and my head came off to reveal a little gun. In its
chambers were two deadly bullets. A special size had to be made. My
father had said "Just as deadly as a larger bullett." He was the proof
of that statement.

It is quickly approaching 2 p.m. so I will not have time to tell you
of my many adventures but will skip to how I came to be here.

"Second Chance" Part 2.

Did you hate the wait? Sorry about that so on with the story.

Sally is so pround to be on the hall stand as she is 'only' a
letter opener. She has he own house on the stand. It is a red
round leather container. It opens into two halves. Sally is on
one side and a pair of scissors, a black pen and a red pen share
the other side. The letters are put on the stand after the postman
delivers them and each person takes their letters and opens them
with Sally, right there at the stand, so we see exactly what good
or bad news the family receives. Mary opens her father's mail but
she never takes it out and reads it. She also opens Paulo's mail
but never reads it either. Sally sometimes disappears, when the
person opening their letter walks off with her. When she returns
she tells us tales of a large bedroom with big bold brown furniture
or bedroom all done in in fluffy pink material and one that is
checked with racing cars on a shelf. Of the lounge room and the
music being layed. The family room where a T.V. sems to always be
on. A dinning room with a 'huge' table, sometimes it is 'cleared
off' and sometimes it is 'covered' in food. There has been a visit
to a bathroom, where there is a lot of 'running water' I have seen
many animals in the park run, but I have never seen a water. I asked
Sally what sort of animal a water was and she just laughted at me.
She can be quite hurful at times. After all I am the newest to the
house and the youngest and I have not seen as much as most of them,
thankfully more than Poppy.No one else on the stand has seen as much
of the house as Sally.

I have left Poopy till last. She is the third female umbrella on
the stand. Poppy is small. She is pale, yellow with red poppies
on her panals. She is a very striking umbrella, pretty but not
beautiful, if you know what I mean. Mrs. Mary Carbobeanie bought
her for her daughter, Miss. Gina's, tenth birthday. Poppy has never
left the hall stand. Miss. Gina says "I would rather be dead than
seen with such a babyish umbrella." She certainly gets wet to the
skin often enough but still won't use Poppy. Poppy never talks,
but every time it rains she cries. It makes us all rather depressed.

There use to be another male umbrella on the stand, Johnny S. I am
told. He belonged to Mrs. Mary Carobeanie's father. On one of the
ocassions when Freddy was visiting "Lost and Found", the young master
took Johnny. He has not been seen since. He was a large, black, wind
resistent brolly, from England. Bought back on the same trip as
Paddy. Paddy said Johnny was a great mate and deserved better. This
was six months before I came. The hall stand occupants wee extremely
upset, more so when it became apparent that none of the family members
noticed Johnny was missing. I asked what the S stood for in his name.
It is unusal for us to have more than one name. Paddy said Johnny was
a great one for quoting Shakespeare, as he had come from an area near
where Shakespeare had lived. I'm sure he sighted and if he could have
shed a tear he would have.

My real friend, is Cue. He as never moved from the stand either, but
unlike Poppy he doesn't care. He says he enjoys the company. Every
now and then Paulo looks at Cue and says "I really ought to get a
display case for that cue." Cue says that all well and good but being
put away, on his own, in a box, would be like putting Paulo in prision.
I just tryto look wise and nod. Cue is in the stand for sentimental
reasons. He is the first cue Paulo ever used. It was with Cue, Paulo
beat "Little Al" in "THE BIG GAME". I have never found out more details
than this, as Marie insulted Cue by saying he was going to tell me "that
long winded yarn". She said it would take 'forever' and everyone was
sick of it. She never says that about Teddy's boring stories, which makes
me jealous. All the woman go for the sporting types, if only she knew my
secret..oh well. Anyway Cue refused to go on. I had hoped one day to hear
the story but that does not look likely now.

There are many acquaintances on the stand. A peg board has been afixed
to the top of the stand and there are sets of keys hanging from it. They
think they are so cool because they always go out. Two sets are car keys
and six sets are house keys. I asked why there were not together and the
Porche keys said that the weight of the house keys pulls on the ignition
and can damage it. Paulo's house key said he had never heard that before.
Since then there has been a distinct cooling off in the relationship
between the house keys and the car keys.

Something From Meg ( A Modern Day Tale ).

Meg sent me an e mail which I thought was extremely funny, so
I'm going to share it with you.


THIS IS A FAIRY STORY THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN TOLD TO GIRLS WHEN
THEY WERE LITTLE.

Once upon a time in a land far away.
There lived a beautiful, independent, self-assured princess.

One day as she sat, contemplating ecological issues on the shores
of an unpolluted pond, in a verdant meadow near her castle.
A frog happened to hop into the princess' lap
and said: "Elegant lady, I was once a handsome prince,
until an evil witch cast a spell upon me.
One kiss from you, however and I will turn back,
into the dapper, young prince that I am.
Then my sweet, we can marry and
set up housekeeping in your castle, with my mother.
You can prepare our meals, clean our clothes, bear my children
and forever feel grateful and happy doing so."

That night as the princess dined sumptuously on lightly,
sauteed frog legs, seasoned in a white wine and onion sauce.
She chuckled and thought to herself
"I don't f..king think so."

"Second Chance." Part 1.

This is a short story I wrote during my writing class when we had
to write from a different point of view (POV).

One life is over, another will begin today at 2 p.m. I am not sad, or
nostalgic, in fact if I could feel, I suppose the thing I would be,
is relieved.

My life started just over two yeras ago. Paulo Carobeanie designed me
for his personal use. I cost a little over $25,000, including taking
care of the man who actually made me. He was my first victim. I always
thought it was pretty poor treatment for my 'father.' Natutally, Paulo
paid for a slap up do and gave a nice sum to the widow. Paulo was such
a benefactor to the people.

Strange how careful Paulo was to conceal my existence, yet after getting
me, he kept me in the hall stand of his town house. He told Gino, (who
went everwhere with him and was his lieutenant, though I don't know what
branch of the service he was in, my fater's son was in the Navy) that
even the police couldn't see the tree because of the forest. As I have
never seen a forest, I've never understood this particular remark, I
don't think Gino did either, because he just looked vacant. I was to
learn this was not an uncommon expression for him.

In my hall stand I quickly became friends with the other occupants.
Paddy was a very, old, dark, brown hawthorn walking stick. He had come
from Ireland with Mrs. Carobeanie's father. Mrs. Carobeanie's father
lived in the house. We rarely saw him Paddy said because of 'his heart'.
I don't don't why his heart prevented him taking out Paddy, but the
whole time I lived in the stand, they only went out once. It was to a
funeral. I believe it was a brother of Paulo's, but Paddy never liked
to talk about it, something to do with a black sheep. Marie says that a
sheep is an animal that humans get wool from to make jumpers to wear in
winter. I have been to about twenty funerals in the past two years and
have not once seen such a creature. So the funeral Paddy went to must
have been very special.

Marie is French and has a delighful accent. However when she gets excited
it becomes hard to understand what she is saying. She becomes excited
quite often. It is her nature. She is the most beautiful female umbrella
I have seen, though we only have three in our stand. She has silk panals,
translucent white. She said the silk was imported from China. It is made
from worms. I saw a worm in a apple once, it did not look at all nice, but
Marie's silk panals are lovely. They shine so. On her handle there are
pearls and diamonds forming the letters MC. Marie belongs to Mary Carobeanie.
She is Paulo's wife. Marie leads a very active life for Mrs. Carobeanie
takes her out every day for protection from wind, rain and sun. Marie often
complains, she is 'exhausted' and needs a holiday. We all know she is a gad
about and loves all the attention she receives from us lesser used beings, when
we want to know what she did that day. She would never swap places with Paddy.
Marie will not tell me her age but Teddy says she is 'old' as she was in the
stand when he arrived five years before me.

Teddy is a hockey stick. A brash New Yorker belonging to the young master.
Teddy is always dirty and proud of it. His surface is covered with deep cuts.
He says these are a mark of pride. He goes on about the many battles he has
been in and what each scar represents. The first three times he told me his
stories I found them fascinating, but now there are just boring. I find him
boastful and vain. He calls himself 'a jock'. I agree with Gran, he is more
of a pain.

Gran is Paulo's mother's umbrella. "I'm a nice sensibale navy blue, suitable
for my age and station in life" she says and looks pointly at Marie when she
adds "No-one will hurt my mistress to try and get their hands on me". She is
reserved and does not talk a great deal. I think she has been in the stand
longer than anyone else. I bet her stories would be a lot more interesting
than Teddy's.

Freddy is a smaller version than myself. Of course he does not have my secret.
The young master owns Freddy and is a very careless owner. He is a shiny gray
colour, not the usual dull black. This comes in handy, as Freddy is often in
the "Lost and Found". It helps to describe his unusually colouring. Freddy has
been lost so often that he has a complex about it. When the young master comes,
Freddy tries to open up and catch his spokes on the stand so that the young
master will not take him, but it never does any good as the mistress always
insistes that Robert (the young master) take his umbrella if it looks like it
might rain. It rains a lot here. Freddy has developed a stutter and thus he
does not like to talk. I'd love to hear about all the places he has been to,
airports, train stations, school, department stores, bus stations, taxi
companies and various sporting complexes. He just says "It was tttteeerrrible"

Sally said that Freddy is suffering fear of being abandoned, and loss of family.
She knows these things as she once belonged to Mrs. Mary Carobeanie's psychiatrist.
It turns out Mary had a little ' souvenir / shop lifting' problem, but now Paulo
just asks the shops she visits to send him the bill. He tries to return any
'souvenirs' he may find. He does not know about Sally being 'taken' as Mary
said she bought Sally for him. It is stange because everyone else uses her
except Paulo.


TO BE CONTINUED.

"Yes, Minister"

Watched this show years ago and thought it extremely funny.

Now it is even more relevent than then. I realise it is the
British parliamnet but the basics hold true. It is not the
elected ministers who come and go that hold the power but the
'cival service' or here in Australia the 'public service.'
They are in their jobs for 30 years or more and rule the roost.

Saw a small extract the other day that cracked me up.

Hacker is telling the Prime Minister's Sectarary how to stop
him putting forward various bills.

"Tell him it is a 'bold' decision."

The sectarary asks "Not a 'courageous' decision?"

"No" says Hacker.

"What is the difference?" he asks.

Hacker replies "A 'bold' decision will lose him votes, a
'courageous' decision will lose him the election."

Talk about manipulating people!

Same Titile, But Different Thing.

I became a Stephen King fan in late 1980's on a visit to see
relatives in Sydney. We stopped over at Uncle Bill's and
I wanted something to read. Tony had a copy of "It" by King.
Published 1986. Needless to say I became hooked!

Sometime in late the 1990's Cliff gave me a book called
"Danse Macabre" by Stepehn King. I started to read it but
found out it was non fiction. When I asked Cliff, "Why he
had given it to me?" he said "Because it is about writing
and you are interested in writing" It is about writing
horror stories, something I am not at all interested in
writing!

Well in about 3 years ago he handed me a book called
"Danse Macabre" but it was by Laurell Hamilton and it was
a vampire ficion book.

Both of us though that having two books of the same name was
impossible. I had thought that when you registered your book's
title for its international book number it locked that title
away, at least for 50 years. (About the average writing
life of an author.)

King's book was published in 1981 and Hamilton's book was
realeased in 2006. A difference of 25 years so is that the
extent of copywrite for titles? I knew it was for songs.
Does anyone out there have more info on this.

The next case is a movie.

Last year I watched on T.V. a movie called "Man of the House"
with Tommy Lee Jones. He plays the role of a Texas Ranger
living in a house to protect a group of cheerleaders who
witnessed a murder. I enjoyed it. It was released in 2005.

About two weeks ago Kirsten and I saw advertised on T.V. a
movie "Man of the House." We were at Cliff's house for the
weekend. She had just picked up a copy from Cliff's shop.
I said I wouldn't mind watching it again and when we got
home she could return the copy to the shop. So we watched.

It starred Chevy Chase, Farrah Fawcett and Jonathan Taylor
Thomas (from Tim Taylor the Tool Man show.) A completely
different movie, which had been released in 1995.

Now that is only 10 years between movies, yet they have the
same title, can anyone explain that one.

The "Rite" English

When I was doing my "Creative Writing' course at Yallourn Tafe,
I read an article that said nearly every non speaking English
country had English as its second language. It also stated
that it was one of the hardest languages to learn.

I thought about that for a while and had to agree with that
statement. There are Australians that I know who can't read,
spell or write English, very well.

So I came up with this little 'poem' which of course can only
really be appreciated by reading it and not listening to it.
Try to do both and see what I mean.

"Understanding English."

Hay don't site me.
Butt English is a strange thing.
It teams with words that seam to puzzle me.
I rite out ruff draughts.
In an attempt to bear my sole.
Take a bough if ewe are not confused to.
Butt its nice to meat someone in the same boat as me.
Four were all at sea.

Wood ewe like two come to tee?
My arn't and sun will bee their.
We mite take a tern at reading.
We won't have too cue.

Come along and wipe your feat on my core mat.
Were having stake at ate.
That is if u are aloud.
Till then by.

At this stage who cares??
I 've given myself a headache sow farewell.

What Where the Stories in 'Goldie's Summer Adventure'?

The name Goldie Lox came from 'Goldilocks and The
Three Bears'.

The meeting in the forest with the wolf from 'Little
Red Riding Hood'.

The rescue by the pigs taken from 'The Wolf and The
Three Little Pigs'.

I cheated a bit with the wolf's chant of "Run, Run as
fast as you can..." as is is what the gingerbread man
called out "...you can't catch me I'm the gingerbread
man."

Another cheat with the sandwiches to slow down the wolf.
This comes from the Greek myth (story) 'The Race and The
Golden Apples'. It tells of a princess who did not wish
to marry. Her father insisted, so she said, she would not
marry any man who could not outrun her in a race. During
the race she would cast down three golden apples, (one at
a time) to slow the man down and this was how she won!

The witch in the gingerbread house is from 'Hansel and
Gretal'.

The witch in the tower and the 'cutting off' of Goldie's
hair from 'Rapunzel, Rapunzel Let Down Your Hair".

Children being sent to bed with no super a theme in many
fairy tales and the final ending and 'THEY LIVED HAPPILY
EVER AFTER.' The traditional ending for fairy tales.

Do you guess right?

"Goldie's Summer Adventure" CONT:

Goldie knew if she didn't do something quickly, the wolf would catch her.
With great difficulity she unlatched her backpack and grabbed out her
sandwichwes. Unwrapping them she began to break them into small bits,
which she threw behind her. It worked! The wolf stopped to pick up
every little bit and eat it.

Soon a clearing came in sight and in the centre was the strangest house
she had ever seen, it was brown and where the sun shone on it, it shimmered.
Then a breaze wafted past her and she realised the house was made of
gingerbread. The smell was mouth watering.

Goldie ran to the front door and knocked.
"Who's knocking at my door?" said a woman's voice.
"Goldie Lox and a big bad wolf is chasing me. Oh
please let me in."
The door opened. The oldest woman Goldie had ever seen stood there.
"Quickly my dear." the woman said as she grabbed Goldie and dragged her
into the house.
No sooner had the door closed when there came a bold knocking.
"Who's knocking on my door?" asked the old woman.
"Mr. Wolf and I want Goldie Lox, give her to me or I'll
huff and I'll puff and I'LL BLOW YOUR HOUSE DOWN."
"NO" yelled the old lady.
So the wolf huffed and he puffed but he could not blow the house down.
Then there came a munching and a crunching! The old woman called out
"Who's nibbling at my house?"
"Give me Goldie Lox or I'll eat your house all up." cried the wolf.

The woman opened the door. She pointed her finger at the wolf. She
uttered some strange words that Goldie did not know. Much to Goldie's
astonishment, the wolf turned into a little mouse, that then ran squeaking
into the woods. Goldie realised the old woman was a witch. She was now
very nervous.
"Thank you so much, b..bu..but I have to go now" she stammered.
"Can you do me a favour?" asked the witch.
"Depends" said a very cautious Goldie.
"In the next clearing lives my twin sister, can you take her a note
from me, please,"
It seemed a simple request so Goldie, who was a well mannered child.
"Okay." said Goldie and waited while the witch wrote the note.

In the next clearing was a tall tower. Goldie walked up to it and knocked
on the door.
"Come in" called out a voice.
Goldie walked in and saw an old woman laying on the floor.
"I have a note from your sister." said Goldie.
"Thank goodness someone has come." said the old woman, as Goldie gave her
the note.
"I've hurt my leg and my poor dog is tied up at the top of the tower with
no water, can you go and untie him, please?" said the old woman.
"Of course." said Goldie, who also had a kind heart.

Goldie ran up the spiral staircase to the top room of the tower, but when she
went in, she found it empty. There was no dog! The door slammed shut.
"When my sister comes, we'll have you for dinner." cried out the old woman.

Goldie ran to the one window and pushed it open. It was a long way to the ground.
She couldn't jump that far. What could she do? She dumped the contents of her
backpack onto the floor. Yes, a pair of scissors! Quickly she hacked off her hair.
She tied the plait to the window so that it could be seen from the doorway, the
rest she dropped out the window so that it hung down the wall of the tower.

When thw witches unlocked the door and came into the tower they saw the hair.
"She's escaped!" they yelled together.
As they rushed to the window, Goldie came out from behind the door. She ran from
the room. Now it was her turn to slam the door and throw the bolt.

Once more she was on the run.

As the sun began to slowly sink in the west, Goldie arrived back at grandma's house.
Goldie was sent to bed, witout any supper, for having cut off her hair. All night
her stomach growled as she had missed lunch too. Goldie did not care. She was so
thankful to be alive. She vowed never to go exploring in the woods again and so
LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER."

Can you pick out the various tales this story was based on? I will tell you next time.

"Goldie's Summer Adventure"

A couple of years ago I eneterd a writing competition for fractured
fairy stories. I often enjoyed watching these on the "Rocky and
Bullwinkle Show" when I was a kid so I thought I would have a go
at it. Iminage my surprise when I received a letter saying I had
received a Honourable Mention for my effort. (No money! but still
something!) So I am going to share that story with you.

'Once upon a time there was a girl called Goldie. She was spending
Summer vacation with her grandmother, who lived near a large forest.

Every morning after breakfest, her grandmother would plait Goldie's
long blond hair. Her mother and grandmother loved her long hair.
Goldie hated it. It took forever to wash and dry. It always tangld
and took hours to brush! In Summer it was too hot! and don't get
Goldie started about nits from school.

One day Goldie made some sandwiches for lunch and asked her grand
mother could she explore the woods.
"As long as you keep to the trails and come home by tea time"
said her grandmother.

So Goldie threw the lunch into her backpack, on top of a lot of junk.
She set out. As she entered the forest, a large animal jumped out
from behind a tree.
"Who are you?" it demanded.
"I'm Godlie Lox, who are you" she said.
"I'm known as Mr. Wolf and would you be going to grandma's house?"
asked the wolf.
"No, I'm staying there for the holidays and today I'm exploring
the woods, so excuse me." she replied.

Goldie continued. She had not gone far when she realised she was being
followed. She thought she heard footsteps. She stopped and listened
the footsteps were clearer now but then they stopped. Goldie could
not see anyone. Goldie walded on, but a little quicker. The footsteps
walked on but a little quicker. Goldie began to run and the foot
steps began to run.

Then a voice began to sing:-
"Run, run as fast as you can, but you can't out run me for I'm Mr.
Wolf, you see."

Goldie ran into a clearing and there was a little straw house. She knocked
frantically on the front door, crying out
"Oh please let me in! a big bad wolf is chasing me."
The door flew open and a little, pink pig was standing there.
"Quick come in." he squealed.

No sooner had the door closed, when there came a loud banging on it, that
shook the whole house.
"Let me have Goldie Lox, or I'll huff and I'll puff and
I'LL BLOW YOUR HOUSE DOWN!"

"Never!" yelled the little pig.

So the wolf blew the house down! The little pig ran in one direction and
Goldie ran in another. The wolf followed Goldie and once more sang out
"Run, run as fast as you can, but you can't out run me for I'm Mr
Wolf, you see."

Goldie ran.

Just as she thought the wolf might catch her she came upon
another clearing and there was a tiny house made of sticks. She ran to the
door and banged on it calling out
"Oh, please let me in a big bad wolf is chasing me."
The door flew open and a little pink, pig was standing there.
"Come in." he squealed.

No sooner had the pig closed the door when there came a loud thump upon it,
which shook the whole house.
"Let me have Goldie Lox, or I'll huff and I'll puff and
I'LL BLOW YOUR HOUSE DOWN!"

"Never!" screamed the little pig.

So the wolf blew the house down. The little pig ran in one direction and
Goldie ran in another. The wolf followed Goldie. Once more he sang
"Run, run as fast as you can, but you can't out run me for I'm Mr.
Wolf you see!"

Goldie ran.

TO BE CONTINUED...
(Don't you just hate cliff hangers!!!) HA! HA!

She Said/ He Said.

Hazel Edwards once said to me "Write to your audience."
(She write many for children and 'Young Adults" (which
use to be teens.))

Garry Disher once said to me, "You'll never make any money
from writing, a J. K. Rowling only happens once in a life
time." (I wonder what Stephine Meyer thinks of that?)

Catherine Bateson once said to me "Write from experience."
(So where do Sci-Fic and Sci Fantasy get their ideas?).

John Marsden once said to me, "I use to write the first
chapter and then edit it to death. My study is littered
with piles of one chapter stories. I use to think that
writing a story was like building a house, one layer of
bricks at a time. Every layer checked to make sure it was
level. But one night I woke up with a great story in my
head I grabbed some paper and begun writing and did not
stop until the whole story was written. Then I edited.
It was the first time I had ever finished a story. That
is now how I write all my stories. You have to find what
works for you."

Karen Slaughter once said to me "If you want to be a writer,
read, read and read some more."

Alexander McCall-Smith once said to me, "If you want to be
a writer, write."

What is This Blog About?

I am going to write about films, D.V.D's (still have not got Blu-Ray)
(but will write about them when I do) books, plays, shows and of course
T.V. shows and I will also publish some of my own work, (why not it is
MY BLOG!!! afer all)