Takin’ me on a journey - an’ me an’ me an’ me.

Where’m I goin’ to go that would require a full suitcase made of leather wid a handle at the top an’ wheels so I can push it? De-sign-er luggage - don’ think I’ll buy me any of that nonsense, no siree, don’ know me any famous designers so their luggage just goin’ t’ ‘av t’ sit there on them shelves collectin’ dust  - or bein’ wiped on account of them famous designers not likin’ dust on their fancy leather. Don’ want t’ take big, heavy cases an’ drag ‘em all roun’ Europe - or even the whole wide world. Ain’t thought too much where this tour begin an’ end an’ I don’ wanna read me where you may be settin’ out them rules and regs. - wan’ me t’ be foot loose n’ fancy free - I take my chances on survivin’ with or without a mess of travel irons an’ linen han’kerchiefs. I’m thinkin’ bes’ thing I can do is travel light, live on jus’ my wit, imagination n’ perhaps a little thievin’. Am also thinkin’ jus’ might not be me on this long, long journey roun’ where ever I up n’ decide to take mysel’ - nex’ time I writes a thing there has t’be a chance I be someone entirely diffren’ - who’s to know? So…. what’s I packin’?

I’s takin’ me a carpet bag, a battered, old, rugged carpet bag. No need t’ worry when it gets thrown about, no screamin’ angry if it takes a kick or two or some clumsy fancy dan spills brown roast coffee an’ red wine all over it. I likes me weathered things - they’s had a life. Soooo… I’s takin’ my ol’ poncho for the cold an’ a straw hat for the sun: I’s takin’ me a silver flask fo’ water n’ sometime whiskey: I’s takin’ me a heap o’ nuts, dried fruit, a sharp knife an’ one book that surely be as ol’ as me - I’s hopin’ on them long days I larns t’read. Now wouldn’ that be somethin’ I’s be proud t’ tell when I gets back? Why tha’  ol’ carpet bag will maybe’s be chock full o’ words when I next sees them folk al’ known t’ me… an’ me… an’ me…..

Jan

THIS LITTLE GIRL’S GONE ROCKIN’

 by Anita Marie Moscoso     

                                       

Here I am, getting ready to start another writing project and getting ready to once again pray that the target I’m trying to hit is as big as the side of an Ocean Liner because I can promise you that no matter how clear and concise the instructions are for this “ Writing Journey” I’ll botch it up.

Like I did this writing exercise at the Soul Food Café where I was suppose to write about bottled emotions and to my credit I did write about bottles  (so far so good) that were in a Curio shop.

 Of courseinside of the bottles were tumors and three headed cats and I think a baby alligator with a human face. ( https://anita64.wordpress.com/2006/06/18/the-witch-of-white-ash-mountain/)

What…you wouldn’t have some feeling about seeing that?

Myself, I love that kind of thing. Other people…well, you know most people have delicate sensibilities and wouldn’t like seeing organs on display for fun and profit.

But you’d feel something.

Wouldn’t you?

Oh, and this other time we were suppose to write about taking a journey with a Ferry Woman and learning some kind of truth or wisdom on the trip and I wrote about a woman who killed her husband because of the way he buttered his toast.   https://anita64.wordpress.com/2006/06/18/datura-manzanillo-walks-alone/

I justified that one by writing my friend into the beginning of the story (she really does work on a ferry boat). So I thought, “hey it works”.

So before you write me off as a total brain dead idiot I want to assure you I did learn something on that particular ‘journey’. I learned on that ‘journey’ that a lot of people are into the twisted and macabre and that as lame and cliché as ” Datura ” might read it’s one of the most popular on my blog so there!

Now, back to the project at hand; as I pack my ‘bags’ for my “Journey” I’m going into it stress free. In real life I will only travel if I can do it with a smile on my lips…I see no reason to change horses midstream and start this journey with a bag full of worries.

I won’t be hearing myself say, “ what if I’m not good enough to write?” (Ha, ask me if I care about that. I happen to READ A LOT and I’m here to tell you that hasn’t stopped about a gazillion books and articles in magazines from being published on any given day of the month)

And I’m determined to be myself; I’m going to write any story that is dumb enough to wander into the black abyss that is my imagination. I’m like one of those predatory animals that weeds out the sick and old and anything not strong enough to run to save it’s own life.

If I can catch it, dude…it’s all mine.

I know my stories are very odd and they are most definitely weird and some of my nearest and dearest  have this look on their faces when they visit me and I know just KNOW they’ve read something I’ve written.

I don’t care because when I write I happen to have a very good time.

I laugh at the gross parts, the bad parts, the titles…you name it. I laugh when I write because I happen to enjoy what I’m doing. I also happen to take what I do very seriously.

Yes, I can hear it now ” sure you do Anita, sure you take writing seriously” Well, it’s true…so there.

There it is in all it’s glory…my travel list.

So I’m set.

What am I taking with me on this journey? What am I packing?

A sense of humor, that’s what I’m packing…and now here’s the ‘note’ I’m leaving on my door.

In the words of the magnificent Ruth Brown:

 THIS LITTLE GIRL`S GONE ROCKIN` -

I WROTE MY MOM A LETTER AND THIS IS WHAT I SAID…

WELLA WELLA WELLA WELLA WASHED ALL THE DISHES AND I DID A LOT MORE,

 I EVEN BOUGHT THE DINNER AT THE GROCERY STORE.

AND NOW, MOM, YOU`LL FIND THE KEY NEXT DOOR,

 THIS LITTLE GIRL`S GONE ROCKIN`.

 I LEFT SOME BISCUITS FOR THE PUP, I PUT FRESH WATER IN HIS CUP.

AND NOW I`M OFF, I`M GONNA LIVE IT UP, THIS LITTLE GIRL`S GONE ROCKIN`.

WELL, I`LL BE HOME ABOUT TWELVE TONIGHT, AND NOT A MINUTE, MINUTE LATER,

DON`T FORGET THE FRONT DOOR LIGHT, THAT`S ALL FOR NOW, I`LL SEE YOU LATER, GATOR.

YOU`LL FIND EACH THING THAT YOU WANTED DONE, I`M OFF TO MEET THAT SPECIAL ONE.

AND BOY OH BOY WILL WE HAVE FUN,

`CAUSE THIS LITTLE GIRL`S GONE ROCKIN`.

Local Inhabitants

G. C. Watson noted, when he surveyed the Langlo that the country had been abandoned and that he found only two settlers - Pettiford and Bucknall. But clearly, the land was not really abandoned at all. Apart from the native aboriginal population it was home to a graceful little bandicoot called the Bilby. Monty is not sure what to make of this weird creature but I am all for producing chocolate bilbies to celebrate Easter.

BILBIES

(An extract from Tim Flannery’s excellent book, Australia’s Vanishing Mammals, RD Press, 1990)

This graceful bandicoot is quite variable in size and, depending on sex, habitat and age can weigh anything between 800 and 250 grams. It has a head and body length of 290-550 mm, with the tail adding an extra 200-290 mm.

The bilby has long, silky, blue-grey fur with white on the underside, although seasonal molts may change the coat length and the colour to a fawn-grey. Its ears are long, largely naked and rabbit-like, and it has an elongated muzzle, the last 20 mm of which are flesh-coloured and naked.

In some specimens there is a faint indication of bars across the thigh fur. The tail is first grey near its base, and then black, and ends in a sharply defined white tip. A horny spur protrudes beyond the hairs at the extreme tip and there is a crest on the upper surface of the tail. As the bilby moves with its cantering gait it often carries its tail like a stiff banner. When the animal is cantering the hind legs move together and the front legs alternatively. It usually has white feet and may have blackish tips on the claws.

The bilby has strong forelimbs and claws and it uses these to good advantage when digging for food and when burrowing. Although most bandicoots do not make burrows, bilbies dig burrows with a relatively steep spiral to a depth of up to 1.8 metres and length of three metres. The entrance is often next to a termite mound or some shrubs, and is left open. However, when it is at home, the bilby blocks the entrance with soil which extends for some distance into the burrow.

Bilbies are basically omnivorous. They eat insects and their larvae, seeds, bulbs, fruit, fungi and, in captivity, meat and small vertebrates.

Some burrows studied appear to be grouped, suggesting that the animals may live in colonies. However, investigations and reports from Aborigines show that pairs of animals and their latest offspring may inhabit each group of burrows. Home ranges may be temporary in location and shift in response to food availability. Bilbies studied in the Northern Territory were found to stay within 100 metres of their burrows, although they used and visited a number of burrows.

The sudden and widespread contraction of the bilby’s range may be attributed to the effects of rabbit and livestock grazing, foxes and cats and a change in the fire regime implemented by Aborigines.