Cat-astrophes

...To all you Sydney-siders out there...how beautiful is the weather???

I've been adding to my daily routine at least 20 minutes of sitting on my balcony in either morning or afternoon sun with a beverage (hot green tea, iced peach tea or....*shhh*...coffee) and a book.

I've also been painting again! Miracle in itself...I'll keep you up to date as things progress. So far I'll say it's blue.

Life is beautiful :)

I love how seasonal things are - regardless of how hard circumstances may appear - you can always have faith that they are only around for a period of time. It wasn't that long ago that I felt on the way to a burn-out...but I knew it would pass - and pass it did. I know that this season will also pass...but I'm going to enjoy every drop of it whilst it is here!

Oh my latest search appearance is "french press coffee caffeine content". At least it is a change from the 'xxx' searches.

xxx

Chemical burns still
Thai for dinner
Candles
Lillies
A check up with a rude doctor
Working Saturdays
A sunrise and a star
Babysitting teenagers
Another check up

Amazing how much can happen in a week - more amazing how hard it is to find the time to write about it.

xxx

Just a message to all those wondering...

Yes...it was my school
Yes...I was treated by the ambos
Yes...the media over-played it

To those not wondering...

During some time off I noticed the windows of my classroom shaking. Thinking it was odd, I decided to investigate. I found the windows of one particular wall rattling violently for no apparent reason. Wandering outside my eardrums started to rattle with the windows, and you could actually feel the vibrations through your body. I stood in the playground thinking 'odd'.

When water started to bubble up from the ground, I thought to myself 'ooh'. So called the Deputy Principal. It stopped

She and an office lady stood with me outside watching the windows rattle once again. The water wasn't bubbling this time, and the vibration didn't last as long.

A few moments later it began again - this time milder and shorter still.

The first thought was 'earth tremor', but then it started up again violently - you could almost see a pulse move across the playground and hit the side of the building. There was no noise, but the vibration was deafening...if that makes sense - it was like a severe pulsing in the eardrum.

It wasn't until 15 minutes or so later that we noted the air smelt a bit funny...so still standing out in the playground, dazed and confused we tossed around ideas - there is a large refinery nearby, as well as numerous factories. It wasn't until we realised that there was a yellowish haze around, the smell became quite acrid, and our eyes, noses and throats began to burn that we decided that maybe we shouldn't be standing outside.

What followed during the next 2 and a half hours could've rivalled the dramas of Home and Away.

The school went into a chemical lock-down, meaning people were stranded in buildings. The fire department (teehee...firemen!!) came along with the police and the paramedics. They soon called HAZMAT (Hazardous Materials Unit) who came out in their little space suits and scared all the kiddies until they gave the all-clear just 20 minutes shy of 3pm.

Meanwhile two colleagues and myself were checked over by paramedics and given the option of being admitted to hospital. Being the big chicken I am, I opted 'no'. Instead I had to go to a GP to document the incident - and 3 days later I still have burns in my throat, dry mouth (cannot stop drinking!!) and breathing quite shallowly.

The nearby refinery confirmed that they were burning things off at that time - but claim that only steam was released. All I have to say was that either it was a crazy crazy coincidence or that was some pretty nasty steam.

However - the news reports claimed that students were passing out, all staff and students were treated for chemical inhallation and a dozen were admitted to hospital for treatment. Makes you wonder about what else is sensationalised...

xxx

Have you ever noticed how 'things' never come at you one at a time? They always seem to have a habit of coming en-masse.

Work has become something that brings a sick feeling to my stomach each morning. And it isn't the kids. If it wasn't for them, I'd probably be clinically insane by now. My responsibilities have more than quadrupled and my stress levels also. My week now consists of a meeting each morning and each afternoon, and my 'lunch breaks' are dedicated to playground duty, art or dance groups. My 2 hours of release time is dedicated to replenishing art supplies that other teachers have lost or (sadly) stolen. I'm accountable to the principal for the fact that in six months we have lost 150 paintbrush, $240 worth of ink, $60 worth of specialty paint, 120L of primary paint as well as a whole list of miscellaneous items.

I've been getting to school at 6:15 just to get my work prepared for the day. Then when I do plan, I find that all hell breaks loose and my plans get tossed in the bin. Today for example, I began a literacy lesson to see two builders waltz into the classroom, ask me to move my class and procede to barricade off half the room so that they could pull down a removable wall, bolt it back together and replace it.

And if one more 2-day-a-week part-time teachers with no responsibilities tells me I'm really quite lucky because no-one is really busy unless they have a family....they'll get a slapping!

Bottom line is I'm stressed.

No more news of my mum. What could've been basic corrective surgery didn't go to plan, and well...we just have to hang tight.

So the Post Script is I'm emotional.

Driving home today I was fighting back tears and trying not to think about how the deputy principal decided today that I would be great at co-ordinating an art-exhibition day at school. Or about the presentation I have to do tomorrow. Or the meeting that was called for tomorrow morning at the one space I have in my day to pee.

Then a friend called and 'challenged' me. I know it's good, but my goodness I felt horrible afterwards. I wanted to crawl under my bed and cry. Well, I didn't crawl under my bed, but I certainly did cry. They basically challenged me to give up the one thing that destresses me each week. Well, not 'give up'...I think the term was 'replace'.

I don't know if I can do it. Salsa is the one thing I enjoy, that doesn't have emotional rides attached (art) and doesn't cause cancer (fire twirling). I don't drink coffee anymore...(well, like I used to).........I need one little outlet!!!

So Post-Post-Script??

Breaking point.

xxx

My most recent addition to the classroom is a gorgeous little Russian girl with not a word of English. Coincidentily, I did 2 years of Russian at university - so we can *somewhat* communicate and come to some sort of understanding...however she happens to be the only Russian speaker at the school (though we have students from so many different countries - there are generally at least a group from each) and since most students come from Middle Eastern and African countries they have never heard a language quite like it.

She has become a star. They are all intrigued by what she has to say. (Though now Afghani children are running around pulling their scarves closer to their heads and shouting 'Babushka')

During one lesson she was dancing behind me babbling in Russian, and I have to admit I didn't hear much...until a little Sudanese girl came running up to me...
"Miss!!!! MISS! She swore at you! She called you a b*tch" (how kids at 5&6 know these words I don't know)

"Pardon?" I asked the little one in Russian what she said.
"pich"
"SEEEEE!!! She said an 'f-word'!!!"

The poor little thing was asking me for a drink.

xxx

I often go salsa dancing on Friday nights...and as a result I have heard a plethora of latino songs from many different South American countries...however obviously some get played more than others...

...as a result, occasionally I get one stuck in my head. It's a lot harder to sing a song when you don't know Spanish or Portugease however. Still, there's one particular merengue song I *love*...there was only a few words out of it that I could hear clearly enough to sing though...and sung it I have...

...Until a Spanish-speaker advised me that by wandering around singing "béseme" I had been declaring 'kiss me'.

Mental note: seek translation before singing in public.

xxx

To a faithful reader man-enough to leave comments...


xxx

I hate to admit emotions like this - but I'm scared.

Flat out, heart thumping, nauseating, butterfly-jumping scared.

I'm about to drive my mum in for minor heart surgery. Its like a close-up check of what's going on in there...but I can't help but think they shouldn't have to go in there in the first place.

xxx

For the first time there was a ratio of two men for every gal at salsa last night...but that didn't really matter anyway because I was helping the instructor - which meant I didn't have to rotate from partner to partner.

This has good and bad points. It's great because obviously my instructor can lead, and so it helps perfect your moves. Bad because obviously not every man leads like a professional, and sometimes is good to learn how to make room for their mistakes. (Apparently I'm one of the favoured partners because I don't stop mid step when my partner makes a mistake to drop hands and say 'what are you doing??') I mean learn how to recover from a mis-step so that it doesn't look like a mistake.

ANYWAY...we were doing a little routine with a show-dip at the end (one that you probably wouldn't do on the dancefloor unless you knew your partner well as the lead is quite subtle). It basically meant that the girl spins under the mans arm, toward his armpit (scary if you don't know what's happening.....very scary after 2 hours of class...) where he catches her last minute, and throws her into a low dip.

It looks very effective, because it starts with what you expect to be a tangle of arms and suddenly slips into a really graceful move. Anyway, after practicing 16 of these (yes, I counted) the instructor started to check out the technique of the men. I thought I'd duck in the circle and even out the ratio a little....

Boy did I get a shock. Now, I happened to be the tallest girl there, and taller than half of the men (teehee...anyone who knows me would know I'm not tall at all....). The first partner I had was fine, he was a few centimetres taller - a little jerky in his lead but it all fell together. The second one was a centimetre shorter than me - and when my head lodged under his armpit I screamed. Not a way I want to die.

The third partner was a good 10 centimetres shorter. It was here I realised how important height really is when it comes to such moves. Now I know very little about wrestling, but let me say I know a clothesline when I see one....or feel one for that matter! Ouch!

Now I'm very understanding when dancing - if a man makes a mistake, as I said I make room for it - guys have the hardest job not only focusing on their steps but leading also. This particular dancer refuses to be wrong...hands on hips "you go under".

Moi- Pardon?
Him - You need to go under, under!
Moi - You'll need to lift your arm higher, I can't fit under.
Him - No, you go under.

Grrrrrrrr. He did the move again - the arm didn't go up, and again I get an arm to the throat. He tosses my hands away again. "UNDER!" My blood was boiling...

Luckily, the instructor was watching this time. He grabbed my hand, did the move quickly and it was fine. "She doesn't go under" Mr Narky-pants exclaimed. Mr Instructor asked him to show how he does it.

Again, clothesline... "lift your arm a little higher"

Oh look....it works....a little awkward, but I could spin under...I bit my tongue....

So Mr Narky-pants decided he had mastered that one and proceeded to try his own routine...I followed the first three steps and cried out in pain when he tried to snap my arm back from the elbow.
"You're supposed to do a reversed double barrel roll"
I lost my temper.
"That's not the lead for it!"
"yes it is"
"If it was the lead, I would've done it - that was a dislocation"

I think the dance ended there...

xxx

One of my favourite past times is finding unusual or new things. Recently I found a fair bit of spare time to kill (it does happen when one locks their keys inside) and browsed a local market.

There was the usual handicrafts, old toys/clothes/junk, greasy food, overpriced potted cuttings and odds and ends...but the thing that caught my eye was the 'book sale' sign. I love books. Especially old ones...it was here I found a 120 yr old book of poetry, the St John's First Aid Handbook from the 1940s (not much has changed, I might add) as well as a few other beautifully-bound finds.

But the joy didn't end there. My favourite find of the day was a dusty old Spanish candelabra that I managed to bargain down from $20 to $8.

On taking it home, carefully dusting it, painstakingly removing the old beeswax and polishing it up...I feel like I should be dancing around the fire with a sword babbling in Spanish...

...although I don't have a sword...nor do I know enough Spanish to 'babble'...

...but dancing around fire I can do!!

Soy el Gato del fuego!!

xxx

My goodness, what a whirlwind!

In the end, I had to say no to Performance 1 (and 2), and the organisers finally agreed. Unfortunately, I couldn't get my rep to speed up the chemical-distribution process, which meant I would have had to use stinky fuels indoors.

That doesn't sound so bad, but it brings up a wide range of implications. Firstly, the fuels are renowned for being triggers of asthma attacks. I don't think that my public liability insurance would cover that if I was using those particular fuels indoors.

Secondly, because the fuels also tend to be extremely smokey, it would mean that the fire alarm and sprinkler system would have to be disabled, which would then void the buildings cover in the event of an accident.

Both situations may not happen (and this was the first response I had to my concerns) however, I couldn't go through it without it weighing on my conscience. When you deal with fire, all it takes is just once - and the results can be catastrophic (hehe). There is enough safety to worry about when actually performing with the stuff without worrying about asthma and property insurance.

In a way, I'm relieved...because I'm not a fan of big crowds, but likewise I'm also dissapointed, because I'm not a fan of big crowds...It would've been a great oppurtunity to get over stage fright. I still get butterflies when standing in front of 10... I was even a nervous wreck infront of the 3 when doing filming for Coke.

Oh well, that's the end of that...but there is still one oppurtunity - a tentative booking for next week, weather pending. Not holding my breath...

xxx

So time is running out before performance number 1...and I have hit a number of complications. On doing a Risk Assessment, I'm not satisfied, though organisers are keen to go ahead. I've been trying to make it black and white that not only are there a few too many risks, but that because of the nature of a few, if something were to happen, insurance would not cover it.

Not only that, but this is an indoor performance, which means I require a very specific fuel. Unfortunately it has been hard to track down, and since I had uni all day today I haven't had the time to think...

Bottom line...I'm getting stressed, and now my mum is on the Federal list of peoples attempting to purchase chemicals...

xxx

HOLOILDAYS!
HOLLIUDOTS!
(I'm so excited I can't type...)
HOLIDAYS!!!
Yay!

And 'eek!' all at the same time.

'Yay' is because it is the holidays.
'Eek' because I have two fire 'gigs' (teehee) booked. Now I've done parties and small events to crowds of about 50+ and they were nerve racking....these are both in the thousands.............

The butterflies are already running rampant. In fact, I think they are carnivorous and are currently cleaning out my innards for me.

Seeing as I can't think of much else at the moment, this entry ends here.

xxx

I have a secret.

I can't dance.

I love latin dancing, and that's all fine - you can spin, dip and throw me around and I can follow. But when it comes to standing in a spot and bobbing up and down to music....no thankyou.

I get bored. I think after been tossed and turned you come to expect it, and well, all else starts getting pretty bland.

Anyhoo, Monday nights are my salsa night. Though some darling who attends our class happened to ask our instructor if we could focus on the Rueda. I'm not so passionate about the rueda. As the moves are quite different to salsa, again, I find I get bored. Granted it is more exciting than bobbing to music, but still, it's not quite so practical. Unless you happen to be somewhere with 3 other people with the same skills....it's not so versatile.

I wouldn't mind so much if we were just talking about a few lessons on the rueda - that would be great...no, we've been focusing on the silly circle dance for over 2 months now...and I'm getting tired of it!

So now I'm tossing up whether or not to go tonight.........

I miss learning new steps, but I really don't want to get tossed around a circle for yet another night.

It kind of reminds me of cultural speed dating.

xxx

UNCLEAN!!!!!

My class are all sick. I had a measly 17 students today. The rest were home. The ones that wereactually at school were coughing, sneezing and oozing mucous from every visable oraface.

This is where teaching becomes an Occupational Health and Safety hazard. I had to explain to 3 children today that even though phlegm isn't pleasant to have in your throat, you cannot spit it on the carpet during reading time. I also had to kindly tell little Ahmad that although his 'boogers are awesome fluro green' they don't belong on his maths book, and no I am not going to wipe it up for him.

Parents please.....if your child is feverish and leaking fluids....keep them at home! And if it is just a cold...please show them how to use a tissue!! I went through a quarter of a bottle of antibacterial hand sanitiser today.

I think the highlight (?) of today was when I paused during marking to look at little Sahib's sleeve. There was an odd patch of something stuck to it. He noticed me looking at it and said with a big grin,

"I'm collecting all the big boogers!"

xxx

Lately I've been listening to a lot of music in Spanish, French and Portugese.

I've alikened it to listening to music without lyrics...but where the voice becomes an instrument. I'm not getting caught up in the 'meaning' of the song (though, sometimes I do wonder what exactly it is I'm listening to) and just enjoying the sound.

It's kind of like organised scatting?

Hmmm...

Here is a 1:30am photo from this morning...


xxx

A little boy from my class came running up to me while I was on playground duty...

"Miss!! A boy p*ssed on a sandwhich and that's haram!!" (evil)
"Ali, we can't say words like that, it's a swear word"
Ali (not his real name) paused and thought a second.
"Miss!! A boy p*ssed on some bread and that's haram!!"

xxx

I love winter.

Well, I love some aspects of winter. In Sydney, winter means rain. Lots of rain. I like this aspect. It also means 'cold'. Yes, I know that it's not like 'Canada cold' or 'Europe cold' or 'Antartica cold'...but it is still cold enough for me. I like the cold when I can be warm. I like the idea of it being cold outside and me being warm inside.

Generally this also means burning a plethora of candles.

Candles *everywhere*! It takes about 20 minutes to change them all, trim wicks and get them all burning each evening...but that's exactly what happens.

My candles aren't lit for this evening yet.

What scares me was that I *did* spend twenty minutes lighting matches and watching them burn. Maybe it was the fact that the wood on every second match didn't burn. More likely it was just the thrill of watching the flame come to life and dance.

Whatever it was, twenty minutes later I found this sight (a few are scattered on the floor - a handful made it to the bin).



xxx

It's winter.

My hands are frozen. And besides doing reports, I've been procrastinating with this.

If you have the time, read the whole saga.

I've been up since 6am typing, and I've decided that 4 hours is *way* too long to be doing any sort of work...so I am going shopping....if I can work up the courage to step outside that is....

xxx

Here is the last entry of my holiday adventures...and possibly the most memorable?

Our last two days was spent on the mainland in Townsville. On the second day we decided to treck inland and up the Paluma Range (Big mountain). Being the tourists we were, we left armed with swimmers, in-car Global Positioning System and camera. We affectionately called the GPS 'Jane'. Apparently Jane didn't share these affections, as toward the top of the skinny mountain road she started to demand we 'turn right now' - straight off the edge of the cliff.

From that point on she was known as 'Evil Jane'.

Regardless of Evil Jane's efforts we arrived safely at the Mount Spec Bridge - a bridge and a region rich with history. Apparently this was a mountain where troops were posted to lookout for airraids etc over Townsville. I just thought the bridge was purdy...

Infact, I liked it so much I think I took about 15 photos of it from all different angles...but I won't bore you with those....

The bridge ran over a body of water known as 'Little Crystal Creek'. Though it wasn't too little...It did provide a series of spectacular waterfalls and pools that you could quite happily splash around in. However it was still quite early in the day and not quite warm enough yet on the mountain to justify getting wet. We decided to stop by in the afternoon on our way back down.

Istead we continued to the summit. A sleepy little community greeted us, surrounded by rich rainforests. We trekked partway into the trees - BF was determined to do the walk in power-mode so most of my photos here turned out a blur - wanting to stop, trying to keep up, getting lost often (luckily the path made it kind of foolproof....). Some of the trees were just so beautiful - with buttress roots as large as walls and as tall as a house.

After the walk we stopped by a little cafe called 'Ivy Cottage'. The concept was great but the food......and 'coffee'...... well, yes. It was basically a house with a varandah converted into a cafe. If you don't like birds, I don't suggest it. Honey eaters of all kinds (and a few bush turkeys...) come to pinch scones and jam off your table. They fly *very* close as they jump from table to table. I was much amused.

The woman serving us didn't seem so patient towards us 'city folk' as we asked to see the menu before ordering (????). She got her own back by taking her time to serve the food. My scones were nice. The coffee burnt. BFs hot chocolate was lukewarm, her hubby's cake was stale. We assumed there was a lot of frozen food being microwaved out the back... The experience was good though.

At this point we had decided we had seen enough of Paluma and thought we'd make an early trip back to Townsville and find a massage instead (I still had most of my spending money at this point!) Little did we know that our plans were to be thwarted (I love that word....thwart...teehee).

We made our way slowly back down the mountain taking in the view, which was quite spectacular. To give you an idea of distances. That photo is taken an hour inland - the little 'mountain' off in the distance is actually magnetic island. Pretty amazing stuff!

As we turned yet another skinny corner we were confronted with an interesting sight. The back of school bus had slipped off the edge of the road and was balanced daintily on the edge of a straight drop down. The kids were off the bus evidently pretty shaken. We spoke briefly to a police officer who informed us that it was going to be a long wait. Alternatively we could go the other way down the mountain through 'Hidden Valley'. We smiled politely at the officer, thanked him, I took a photo, then turned back around.

Back up through Paluma we went and off towards Hidden Valley. Not long down the road we were confronted with a sad sight. Dirt road. A lot of it. Since we were in a borrowed car that had never seen dirt before, we set off at a painfully slow pace - diverting around every bump and crevice in the road. Dust was still caking the perfect paint.

An hour passed and we decided that this was indeed a Hidden Valley. Too well hidden. We were also running out of petrol.

All was not lost. We found Hidden Valley, and it had a petrol station! In fact, 'Hidden Valley' was just a petrol station and a lodge. Mind you, it was the cutest petrol station I have ever seen. There was some interesting characters there...the owners were extremely helpful and let us know that it was another 3 hours of dirt before hitting a long road back to Townsville. We decided we had better chances with the bus.

The drive back felt even longer for some reason - but at least we had a full tank of petrol, bottles of chilled water and we were armed with an array of chips and minties - all at petrol station prices....

Back through Paluma we went and down the mountain towards the bus. We hadn't gotten very far when we came across a barricade blocking the road with 'road closed' hanging on the front. We stopped momentarily, wondering what to do, before our driver, beyond being fed up, jumped out and opened the gate. I closed my eyes....(except to take a photo of course)...I know 'nusink...'

There was another long wait by Crystal Creek until the road was finally cleared, and a crane had lifted the bus back onto the road. We were finally on our way back to Townsville, but massages were a little out of the question by now. We had spent well over 5 hours on that hill. 4 more than anticipated.

On the way back, we followed the crane...another photo op for my journal...then finished the day with a carwash - more funky photos.

BUT...

The story doesn't end there.

The next morning whilst waiting for our flight out, I caught site of the front page of the Townsville Bulliten. There was the 'Paluma Incident' sprawled all over it with a photo of the bus....on the road. "Argh!! My photo at least has the wheels off the edge!" I protested. That evening I emailed them a thumbnail of my photo and told the paper to contact me if interested. They did indeed - offered no money for the photo, but did a quick phone interview. I requested they send a copy of the story in return.

I heard nothing.

I got sick of hearing nothing and tried to find an electronic version...which I did. Between misquotes and manipulating my words I was not too impressed...but then found the whole article had a bit of a negative vibe towards tourists attempting to drive on this mountain recklessly! Sheesh, if only they had known I am a P-plater!! So...for the record:

1. I was not the one driving
2. We were going well under the reccomended speed limit
3. The lady at Ivy Cottage agreed that it was a dangerous road and that buses should be banned
4. I did not say that it was popular with tourists - how would I know???
   

Bah...still, I can say I've done a little freelance :)

And so ends the North Queensland Adventures.

xxx