Don't Say Don't

Don't say...live sport is boring.

I have an on-going struggle with fulfilling my fatherly duty to a son who loves all sport especially football.

It is then no surprise that he wanted to celebrate his 10th brithday by taking 3 school-mates to a Broncos home-game.

During the second half it occured to me that this footy stuff is actually entertaining - I still don't know why the crowd erupts into cheering half the time but I play along...and importantly, I got to have a beer.

However, if I was ever to go back - I would consider going to this.



I received this via email from a family whose kids I taught on School of the Air some 18 years ago and haven't seen or heard of them since.

Don't say...you can't see the tall lettuce and tomato plants.

I am pleased to finally report that there is something growing in this yard.

The scrub turkeys are kept away by the chook-wire BUT the complex and profound secret is that nuthin' will grow in crushed concrete.

Don't say...it is an elegant variation.

I have been noticing this word a lot lately both spoken and in writing and I have come to the conclusion that it should be banned.

I apologise if it is one of your favourites or frequently used words but it wreaks of pseudo-poshness, masquerading as a 'formal' word.

When I see or hear it I think it is pretensious and archaic - perhaps even a little oldie worldie.

Don't say...urban myth.

Do you know what this means ?

I just found out.

Leesy tells me that if you see the shoes swingin' from the electricity wire you can buy DRUGS from the house below.

Don't say...you can live in this town without a SATNAV.

I spent the first 21 years of my life in this town and still find the southside spooky...Do they use the same currency ? Do they still think Joh Beilke-Petersen is the Premier ?

However, over the weekend we eventually made it to a few new places....one for sport, one for an organic cafe and finally to attend an orchestral recital.

Don't say...schools out already !

Shot like a bullet down the road to see the play featuring archangel Michael slaying the dragon as the final day celebration.

I missed out on the autumnal feast...thankfully - as it was probably spelt bread, fruit and carrot sticks.

Don't say...I like beer.

However, today I am having one.

Just one.

I could never make sense of the fact I would have a hangover after 3 beers.

I learnt to drink large quanitities of beer in Thargomindah and continued through to many many years in Charleville (which my father referred to as the "Western Thirst") until I had an eppiphany and from that moment on steer clear of beer.

Don't say...the honeymoon is over.

A certain personage is in the throes of moving into the cubby. He's very disappointed with the entire disciplinary regime in this establishment and is making a stand.

We are all currently filling in a self-made compulsory survey to 'tick' if we want him to come home.

I recall writing a "I'm Running Away From Home" letter and signed off with the melodramatic 'Your Ex-Son'.

Don't say... I am unlucky with sunglasses.

I knew I'd squashed them when I sat down.

The dilemna is :

Do you spend a lot to motivate you to look after them ?

OR

Do you only spend a little knowing that they'll either be lost or squashed ?

Don't say...Amityville Horror !

The plasterers are here this week repairing the water damaged ceilings.

This ghostly figure has been staring down at me from my side of the bed.