Telling Tales (true or tall)

I present you with my problems with various birds turning up on my doorstep, seemingly each weekend...   The baby magpie whose parents flew in with him one Saturday morning and then out again, sans baby, leaving him behind to demand food while sitting on my arm.   They came back twice to check on him before carting him away hours later while I frantically tried to keep cats away from, and the food up to, it. The bush turkey chicken rescued from the cat before he could be eaten.   Gorgeous little chicks that can’t be kept in captivity and their parents abandon them before they’re born. What a horrid life they must have. The peewee that insisted on sitting on the fence while the cats stalked him only to speed off at the last possible second and spoil their fun.   I didn’t realise birds could smile until then. The corella which fell off the roof (closely followed by the cat...

Photo courtesy Nest In The Attic My eyes are wet with tears as I stand over her frail body. Her face is peaceful and free of the pain that has been so noticeable of late.  I feel my throat constricting with the effort of keeping my emotions in check.  Is this tiny, thin creature the same woman I remember from childhood as a tower of strength? Mum had phoned me earlier this morning and asked me to stop in on my way to the city to check on her mother, my "Grammy".  I had grudgingly agreed because she was insistent although it would mean I’d be late for my hair appointment.  It was terribly difficult to get a suitable spot at  Ramon’s. “Honestly Mum, you worry too much,” I had said.  “She’s as tough as old leather and will probably outlast me!” I look through the door to the kitchen where long ago Grandma had taught me to cook the dishes my own family now loved.  So strong are the many happy memories of that room, I feel I can almost touch th...

It’s extremely rare to actually enjoy Travelling to your place of employ (Whether by bus, tram, car or train), Since common courtesy began to wane. It’s people who snuffle with whom  I  take issue. Surely to goodness they could carry a tissue? And malodorous people should surely desist From travel with others. I really insist! How I curse the man who invented the MP3; Just an invasive, pervasive musical tin can to me. Putting up with their racket is only for mugs So I praise the woman who invented ear plugs. Driving myself is not the preferred mode Because of the plethora of idiots using the road. It seems lack of road courtesy presents no bar To their having a licence or driving a car. Rudeness it seems is not confined to transport. Lack of respect for others is now a national sport. Those queue jumpers are a right royal pain too While you’re patiently waiting for food or the loo. ...

The article announced that Diana, an amazing US psychic, was to focus on Queensland at noon that Sunday.  If we readers were also to concentrate at noon, holding a spoon or fork, whilst staring into the eyes of the accompanying photograph of the psychic, we could discover our own powers. I devoured the story, soaking up the instructions and realised I would need to clear the house of all negative vibes. This meant my husband, The Great Sceptic, must be persuaded to go out with the children. I knew I would not be able to concentrate if I could feel his cynicism close at hand.  I cunningly discussed the idea of seeing a movie within earshot of the youngest and, true to form, after considerable nagging on her part, he caved and had the brilliant idea of taking the girls to the movies. By 11.45am I was sure I had everything ready.  I went over the instructions again, so I would be sure not to omit any important step.  As well as a sturdy, unbent spoon, on a ...