The Captain Teddy's daycare bus of doom!

In case of any future court action taken against me I think I should set down in writing the events of that tragic day where I mentally scarred a batch of young children for life in the space of 5 seconds.

It was early morning, I was riding to school, travelling at speeds close to Mach I and as I turned onto Yut Fay Avenue something terrible happened. I had looked down at my bike for only a moment but during that time the Captain Teddy's daycare bus had reversed out of a driveway and stopped right in front of me.

Time slowed down and my life flashed before my eyes (again). I squeezed the handbrakes and locked up the tyres. The bike skewed sideways, the wheels buckled and I was thrown forward towards the bus. I crashed into the bus side-on with my shoulder creating a sizable dent in the panel just above the back wheel. My head whipped against the window with spittle flicking across the glass like a slow motion punch in a Rocky movie.

I awoke an instant later sitting on the road with my back against the bus's back tyre looking at my twisted bike. I heard the driver running around to me and the kids crying inside. Apparently my wide-eyed dribbling head coming at the window at significant speed is a bit scary to children.

I limped home and called Dad saying I had hit a bus and I got to stay home from school which was cool. Dad came home straight away thinking I had a broken pelvis and a ruptured pancreas or something but apart from a sore shoulder I was ok. Dad rang up the daycare centre and spoke to Captain Teddy saying my bike was ruined. Captain Teddy cried that he had a massive dent in his bus and numerous mentally scarred children to brainwash by the end of the day. So Dad called it even.

The bus drove around with the big dent for months afterwards and I filled with pride as I pointed and said "See that dent, I did that!". With the hitting of the bus I now had an impressive tally of targets building up including a Volkswagon, a taxi, many bushes and trees, large rocks, gullies, a little girl skipping home from kindergarten and I almost got a motorbike (he was a nimble bugger).

The End.

Farmer & the Crows

I went to the Strawberry farm the other week & as I walked back to car I recalled Dad's venture into strawberry farming-on a fairly smallish scale I suppose - but big enough to take up the whole yard-I remember Dad said we could eat what ever we wanted from the small patch down the side but our lives wouldn't be worth it if we touched this other lot... so off we took to partake of the "strawberries" we could eat - but yuk! these were hot & horrible, turn a kid off strawberries forever I wasn't impressed,we were allowed to eat radishes. I can still hear Dad laughing, Anyway seeing as we didn't have anywhere to play now we made up the game Farmer & the Crows....Yeah Melissa was the Farmer & Billy & I were the naughty Crows - it went like this - The naughty Crows would come down to eat the strawberries & the farmer would have to come & chase us off or try to catch us ... this was fun for while until Melissa got sooky cause she couldn't be a naughty crow & didn't want to play anymore ....but I'm thinking Dad had probably instigated that game,it meant he had 3 live scarecrows looking after his strawberries ......foiled again I think

Elbow Grease

I remember doing the dishes once during my early teen "indentured slave" period and I was encountering a particularly hard scum on the bottom of a cooking pan. As any self-respecting teenager would do, I started to whinge about how hard it was and why do I have to do it and Ben doesn't do anything etc etc.

Dad said to use "Elbow grease". Now I wasn't savvy with this term so I had visions of a cool cleaning chemical thing that sprayed acid-soaked steel wool under high pressure. So I started to go through the cupboards looking for a spray bottle with a logo of an elbow on it - like Mr Muscle has a bicep on it. While I type this I realise that it wasn't that stupid of me at all - the jump from "Elbow grease" to the picture on the Mr Muscle bottle is quite easy to make, I think I have just removed one of those embarrassing flashback moments that make you bury your face in a pillow. Anyway I could not find it and Mum and Dad thought I was being smartass when I asked where the Elbow grease was kept so I just persevered and cleaned it (or I might of just "let it soak", meaning leave it in the skanky water so Mum has to do it later).

I would just like to make it clear that I now know that "Elbow grease" is a term meaning to scrub at it harder similar to other stupid sayings like "Blanket party" for sleep. I was probably thoroughly disappointed when I discovered this "blanket party" had no cake, lollies or soft drink at all but was actually quite the opposite of a party, words can be so cruel.

Was it normal to sacrifice the bottom half of the roast chook and all the veges to the bottom of the pan and just be happy with the non-charcoal stuff on the top?.

Suck a stone!

Well, peoples, it's been nearly a year since we saw some action over here.

We must all have shocking memories. I'm giving Mum a pass on this because she has all those names to remember and it has used all her brainspace.

Who are you? I am AndraVicDani. Or most times I am "Honestly-Danielle-you-are-a-source-of-annoyance" which can be a bit
of a mouthful at first, but you can work it into something good.

I don't know about you, but I have thought of this blog weekly (or is that weakly?) hope that someone has seen fit to remember something and put it over here.

Anycause, I have come here with a request. You see, I grew up hearing some of our family's stories, but never having lived a part of it (yes, except the poisoning of Michael, but honestly. I think that it was mostly attention seeking behaviour on his behalf, now that I think about it. It wasn't ALL me. Most of the time it WASN'T me at all! I was just standing nearby) but those stories of you guys have now worked themselves into my own little family's life. For instance, Riley and Tully quite often tell someone to 'suck a stone!'. Whenever someone is bemoaning something the others see as petty, they are told to suck a stone.

Why?

Because, when Dad (granddad) took you guys across the Gobi Desert on Fraser Island without water and someone complained of being thirsty, the story goes "Well, pick up a stone and suck it!".

Tell me the story. Who was there? Who was thirsty? Who was the one that (foolishly? bravely?) asked for a drink? How old were you? Did it really ... no. Don't answer that, I don't care if it really happened or not. It's part of MY story now, so it has to stay.

I miss you guys. I hope you write back.

signed
Honestly Danielle.