6 October 2014

QUESTION ONE - Does penis size matter to women?

The penis is not the primary sex organ of the woman, the clitoris is. For most women the clitoris is the source of orgasms and it is important to remember that the clitoris has hundreds of nerve endings, each woman is wired differently and likes their clitoris handled differently. It's important to note that the clitoris is shaped like a wishbone with the visible tip in the vulva and then the legs curving around the vagina. I recommend Sophia Wallace's art Cliteracy 101 for some easy to read information on the clitoris, and do your own research. And then, with each partner, communicate fully so you know what your partner likes in regards to her clitoris and you can suggest new techniques for reaching orgasm through her primary sexual organ. And that full communication will allow you to talk about your primary sexual organ as well!

QUESTION TWO - Why do young men indulge in dangerous and criminal behaviour?

Young men in our society are isolated from loving touch at a young age, and given aggression and competition as their only outlet for emotion and ambition very early in life. Ask yourself whether young men are encouraged to be gentle and understanding emotionally and intellectually in society and in the economy. Ask yourself if young men are hugged by family and friends regularly in social situations. Ask yourself if young men have the economic options to be stay-at-home fathers, carers and teachers. Ask yourself if young men are earmarked for jobs that value their well-being, or jobs that require mental and physical strain and relentless work?

QUESTION THREE - unwanted kissing excused as a 'greeting'

The protocol is, of course, that you have absolute control over consent regarding your body. If you ask someone to stop touching you in a way you don't like, they should do what you ask. Your body, your choice and full consent.

QUESTION FOUR - Christian wife wants to pray for a baby, and not use IVF

Your wife makes the decisions for her body. You can communicate with her, and provide her with information from other sources, but she is in charge of her own body.

QUESTION FIVE - Australian surveillance laws are perfectly excellent

You are presuming, of course, that you will always be doing things that are perfectly legal at the time, and no retrospective laws that make your activity illegal will be passed. If you wish to always be legal, you will need to follow the legislation carefully so you can be sure you are considered a 'good citizen' now, in the past and into the future. The media report the changes in legislation and application of the legislation, which is why freedom of the press is so important in a democracy.

QUESTION SIX - when to give 'the sex talk' to children

Perhaps let's look at this positively - if you have had ongoing and open communication with your children about sex, they will continue to come to you when the questions arise, and you can be part of the conversation they have with all the other influences in their lives. If you don't have that open channel with them, you will miss all the important things.

3 October 2015

Moses: I love the Anglo nubians! Had 2 nubian X's many years ago :)

Moses: And no I didn't turn them into capretto!

Max: So, so, so beautiful and fun and friendly! <3 <3 <3

Moses: Not to mention how gigantic they can get! Beautiful creatures 😊

Max: The adults WERE very big. Lovely, lovely, lovely

Moses: Gentle giants

Moses: The boys can get to 100kgs+!

Max: Will need a farm for my new obsession ... anglo-nubian goats ...

Moses: I wish to put in an expression of interest to work at this Anglo Nubian goat farm

Max: I think we could come to some arrangement. Would greyhounds learn to round up nubians do you think? :)

Moses: Haha no they are to much like people the greys!

Max: So they'd play with them then ...

Moses: Maybe but most likely asleep on a couch

Max: So it will be up to you and me to milk the goats and make the goats cheese. Greys can sleep on the couch and make us cups of tea

Moses: Goat and greyhound ranch this sounds .... greyt 😂

Max: Goat to work hard for all that greytness

Moses: Yep goat to do what you goatta do !

Max: We put all our hope in Grey Dog and the Holy Goat

Moses: May goat be with you

Max: We all grey to the goat to help us with our earthly endeavours

1 October 2014

Elbow

Check out my new professional photo!


Many thanks,


Project Assistant | Programme & Project Management


Max


Great hair!


Many thanks,


Playwright | Novelist


Elbow


Believe it or not Mane n Tail (http://manentail.com/) is the sole reason I haven’t shaved my hair in despair. Since moving here my hair was getting brutalised by the water. Was recommended this by a hair stylist in Shoreditch & the results speak for themselves.


Condition it every morning, use my fingers to remove the knots, more conditioner as serum once it’s dry & look at it. LOOK!!


Max


You have hair serum????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Elbow




Max

*snortle laugh*

oh man.

that has been YEARS in the making.

1 October 2004

Because I am VERY cool, I have an icebreaker prepared for the Leytonstone Housewarming Party.

Pip
You are looking for the person for whom Hong Kong made them feel they had never seen a real city in their life

Teacher
You are looking for the person who is famous for losing all manner of personal effects while travelling

Lee
You are looking for the person who knows someone who can channel the spirit of Richard III 

Teddy
You are looking for the person who is a tireless money raiser for a schoolmate of theirs who is now a paraplegic

Sam
You are looking for the person whose favourite saying is ‘in the space between my fingers lives another hand’

Wifey
You are looking for the person whose favourite book is Imagica by Clive Barker because it is a whole different world of magic and wonder, brilliance, shimmering darkness and real evil’

Sister
You are looking for the person whose favourite movie is ‘Primal Fear’

Adam 
You are looking for the person whose favourite saying is ‘Don’t ask for the rainbow, fetch it’ 

Kate
You are looking for the person who is the king of pun pong

M
You are looking for the person who is a big Michael Palin fan

Cat
You are looking for the person who I first met at a Christian Conference in Skegness

Jim
You are looking for the person whose favourite travel destination is Playa Zunzal in El Salvador because of the deserted beach

Tom
You are looking for the person who is a big fan of the magazine ‘Private Eye’

Jamie
You are looking for the person who loves the Cinque Terre because of the walk between the villages and the pesto

Jack
You are looking for the person who is my long lost third cousin

Taryn
You are looking for the person who just bought an iPod

Em
You are looking for the person whose favourite saying is ‘what was has always been, what is had always been, what will be has always been’

Sister
You are looking for the person who studied in Canberra last year

16 September 2006

Max

Each Friday there is a speaker at the department giving a seminar. This week the girls were entertained by the title '... self-excited stick-slips ...' NORTY.

The guest speaker was really rather hot, and I was having a great time chatting and bantering with his two students (and because we were joking about age I knew they were younger than me) and when he left he came to me and pretended to flick a crumb off my shoulder and when I turned to look he chuckled my chin and his only words to me was 'a lovely 25'.

*goodness* it's been a long time since I was treated like that!

Today was intoxicating - I was in an almost maniacally happy mood due to the heat and the sun, too many of my favourite attractive men turning up to chat to me, it was good.

I stopped by your parents last night. I had wanted to catch Jack because yesterday morning as I was walking to the bus I saw a speckled rooster roaming Roy Street and I immediately thought of Jack. Jack was still at work but I chatted to your parents for ages.

Joey

Chin tickling is very sexy. Sometimes W tickles my ear or my cheek which I secretly love. Today I spoke to M, alone in his office and made a little slip - I teased him about how tidy his desktop was and he told me he was a very neat person. Yes, your room is very tidy, I said. And we both blushed and were quiet for a moment. Let me teach you a Jamaican word, and he said 'irie'. It's irie between us, he said, which means it's all ok.

Sometimes he is such a jerk, and then other times he does something so sweet or gentlemanly that I want to throw my arms around him. I will always wonder what would have happened between us if fate had not stepped in and broken her nose, creating a diversion for me to meet A, and I will be a little bit sad not to have M in my life even as a friend.

Did you know that I only have 7.5 working days left?

Max

It is very sexy, isn't it? I wonder if it is because touch these days is either non-existent or really full-on (think drunken snogs) and there is not much in between caressing.

People are amazing, aren't they. They can give you so much sometimes without giving you much at all. M sounds like a man who gives you a lot to think about, a lot to feel, simply by being imperfect in your eyes. He must have a strong character if you are simultaneously missing him and being frustrated by him.

I have to go to bed now, but you enjoy your last 7.5 days - the world awaits your actions in the next two months.

12 September 2006

Robbie (outlining Max’s favourites, with notes from Max)

Movie: Something with charming Nazi war criminals … and abled bodied Jews
(check)
TV show: Buffy the "are we really supposed to believe she can actually kick arse" Vampire Slayer
(Firefly, same man at the helm, brunettes are better)
Fictional character: hetero Xena … slutty Robbie … or 'no movies' Ash
(BRILLIANT, yes!)
'Ship: oh - she knows this one - that crazy american man blowtorching pretty young japanese girl
(you are a cruel woman, the real favourite 'ship is the one we do not mention lest Max never be allowed near adolescent boys again)
Band: something by some crazy DJ no-one listens to, that only plays at 3am at Bar Open, or at the Hyde Park Hotel
(checkish, David Holmes, who is a DJ)
Song: I'm a little teapot
(oh, that has SO many different ways I could make that good and bad)
Book: English for Dummies
(heeeee, actually The Age of Innocence)
Author: anyone who writes about vampires ...
(I have a funny story about that one, Charlotte Bronte)
Colour: Navy Blue
('orrible creature you are, black)
Animal: woodpecker - as Max likes both components of the word …
(check, laughed until I cried, in a pinch a penguin, albatross or pelican)
Food: herself - being food for a vampire
(yes! *swoon*)
Snack: Domino's meatball pizza with 3 cheese stuffed crust
(see Vampire)
Beverage: iced tea … with a shot of bourbon
(and grumpy hungover Max in the morning, Fanta)
Store: crap if I know - something with bits of fluff in it.
(not sure the Victoria & Albert Museum Shop would APPRECIATE the description, but they do have fluffy stuff in there somewhere)
Vacation spot: Any place with tall, buff, black men … short Hispanic/Mexican men … or … men ...
(so, so, so, SO true I couldn't get any sound out when I laughed)

Robbie, a masterful combination of truth and fiction!

Xena

robbie i laughed so hard i wet my pants.
there is so much truth in that little profile though :P
fave vacation spot … i would of thought Max would rather enjoy the literary wealth on the isle of lesbos *wink*

Ash

That was brilliant … and do you need a luggage carrier when you go to your vacation spot … I promise I won’t make a sound … *does best impression of Max’s bambi eyes*

What am I thinking … Max wouldn’t bring any luggage to a vacation spot like that … sorry momentary lapse in concentration Xena’s little fictional tale still playing havoc with my mind ...

Max

So, not dividing the banter from the truth, I am a raging bisexual international predator with a penchant for meat in ALL forms, obscure bands, violent sexual practices and alcohol.

8-\

Woah, and on Sunday I was reading my diary from Year 12 in which two pages were devoted to my personal reflections on the speeches for Head Girl ...

FOR WHICH I WAS A NOMINEE I REMIND YOU ALL, AND WAS SUBSEQUENTLY LITURGY PREFECT, SO HOW DID I GET TO THE SENTENCE ABOVE IN ONLY SEVEN YEARS?

*catholic schoolgirls ARE a lot more fun out of the convent aren't they?*

/-)

oi, Xena, stop winking at me when you are publishing such plot-what-plot smut for our reading pleasure. Me visiting the Greek Islands next year to see my 'wifey' get married is far more conventional than it sounds!

Ash, stop leaking my seduction tips to all and sundry or I will be making you bowl every day so you have to go to your CHIRO forever to suffer erotic purgatory! ah-HA.

Robbie, that list is yours to keep VERY silent and secret now y'hear ...

luv youse all, who else would I admit my penchant for the 'Dummies' series to I ask?

[during this exchange of emails, another email was sent to all by Xena - an amusing soft porn story about catching up with a much loved and queer mutual friend from high school]

Robbie

oh, sweet JEBUS!  I almost believed u!!!! Gave me a slightly more than mild coronary- I think stuff idol - your true talent lies in writing soft porn ...

May i just say that i shall never be able to look 'dear sweet xena' in the face again ... or anywhere else for that matter.

Max

While certainly uncomfortable to read if it had been true, it is still an amusing thing to read as a window into the romantic corners of Xena's mind. Cartons of VB? Really? Xena!

/-)

Ash

Oh dear lord....!!!

I feel the need to wash my imagination out with industrial strength cleaning products ...

I feel I need a shower to cleanse myself of the horror … Ash walks off shuddering & feeling slightly dirty...

Xena

first and foremost … i would like to apologise.
a) for staining ash’s mind forever.
b) for possibly giving robbie a little too much excitement for her little heart.
c) for the cartons of VB.

admittedly i did have a fun writing that though ... *sigh* i've read WAY too much Alt FanFic about vamp willow and tara.

11 September 2012

Max

I handed in my final script last night for my course. it nearly killed me.

I wrote all weekend until 9pm Sunday. then hated it.

so I started another piece, and didn't have the ending by the time I went to sleep.

dreamt all night of lines and ideas.

woke up, still with no ending.

had real work to do all day, no writing.

drove a workmate home to Perth, chatted all the way about the piece, found the ending.

handed it in. re-read it at home, I still like the piece. four typos.

like you, I was on the beach on Saturday around noon, trying to write. trying. failing.

Joey

Of course, writing at the beach didn’t work ... sand gets into the typewriter keys and messes up the ink ribbon. All the effort of lugging your Underwood through the sand dunes for not much reward ...

Max

ahahahaha, I would like to point out that that delightful reply would only work if I had said I was typing on the beach.

as it was, there was enough sand to blot my parchment, more than enough, it's just that I never really put quill to parchment because I was not inspired. also, the parchment kept rolling up when it wasn't flapping, the quill seemed to want to fly out of my hands and soar with the seagulls and the ink yearned to sink into the sand and run to the sea, to paint the waves with my words.

so I realised that the seasons only really describe the big changes in our lives, and the waves illustrate more closely the daily heartbeat of our lives, so I went and stood in the wash to absorb some heartbeats to put into my writing. then I went home and typed ... :)

the coda to the thought about the waves is that we are also never really at the tip of the wave, nor on the break nor at the base - we are always tumbling along in the middle. Nothing is ever smooth. But there is a beat. And that is what makes us feel at home even in the tumble of the daily waves.

21 August 2013

Real World Commandments

Thou shalt not worry about previous partners, current crushes or possible future complications. Thou shalt accept that adults are the guardians of their own morals.

Thou shalt not worry about previous, current or future orientation. Thou shalt accept all advances from any and all gender identities.

Thou shalt not worry about previous, current or future 'physical types' - yours or others. Thou shalt acknowledge that attractiveness and proficiency is not and has never been reliant on looks.

Thou shalt not talk to excess. Thou shalt flirt and snog and allow all further liberties taken to come to their natural conclusion.

Thou shalt not expect anything other than respect and discretion in the interaction. Thou shalt accept that you are starting your human interactions again with no expectations.

Thou shalt engage in what humans do best every calendar week, running from Thursday to Thursday. Thou shalt not fudge the averages or totals.

Thou shalt relax during the real world sourcing of the human involved. Thou shalt ask for what you want, and allow others to do the same.

Thou shalt be safe during the virtual world sourcing of the human involvement. Thou shalt not neglect your health.

Thou shalt be kind and respectful of the health and reputation of the human involved, and ask the same of them. Thou shalt not neglect your wellbeing.

Thou shalt drink until you make bad decisions every calendar week, wherever is safest and most comfortable. Thou shalt not attend an occasion that involves drinking without having one drink.

Thou shalt enjoy the journey. Thou shalt not retreat from your fears.

5 August 2008

JOEY



I think I need driving shoes as well. They say to me: preppy in the style of Nancy Drew or Ali McGraw from Love Story. I could team them with blue jeans and a cute plaid shirt ... 
Ok, my thoughts on a farm in Ireland:
 You would need to research a nice area, close to Dublin or Cork because you would need to talk to city folk at some stage, or work for money to fund your farm stay. Farmers don’t count to talk to as they are hard at work for most of the day, and I believe Irish farmers’ wives are generally hard workers also, but with a disapproving demeanor and a way of saying ‘have another cup of tea then’ which discourages even the most avid tea drinker from taking another cup. Perhaps this is why Irish farmers spend so much time ‘getting the pigs in’ and so forth. Sundays would involve attending church in the disapproving catholic style but the tersely made roast would more than makeup for it.


Alternatively, if you do your research you could find the location where Gerard Butler lives as I believe there is a local pub where good looking young farmers hang out in thick, knitted wool jumpers and moleskin trousers after a hard days farming. They are more talkative than their forebears but you have to catch one that only drinks in moderation as the Irish are a bucolic, alcoholic nation. He might introduce you to his mammy if you’re lucky. 

I would suggest a rural area close to the coast and within a days distance of Trinity College Dublin for your intellectual needs.

MAX

For the rest of us, who do have not seen PS I Love You, I am imagining being a researcher/PA/companion in a lovely Great House, and after some months becoming great friends with the young man who owns the house. Halfway through winter, the heating fails, and all inhabitants are sent away bar me and the young man to instruct the workmen when they appear. We can only heat one set of rooms in the house until the workmen come to fix the VERY old plumbing, so we must co-exist in wintery isolation of wood fires, a shared double bed and socks drying over the bookcases. Romance Blossoms. Max never needs to go home to Perth ☺



I have been planning, planning.


JOEY


Close, but much more interesting.

Perhaps you could be employed by a very old, slightly doddering couple ala Possession. They could live in a bad 1970s addition, shotgun at the ready, life savings hidden in the mattress, wellies in the mudroom until they decide to visit a distant relative somewhere, so you would be all alone in the great house. I think the old man could have an interest in racehorses and a large collection of valuable books, the documentation and organisation of which falls to you.


One wet and windy day, you could be exploring a wing of the old house, or out on a ramble quoting poetry aloud and stumble into a good looking, slightly arrogant young farmer (in a woolly jumper) who looks at you, incredulous that such a marvellous woman would be in his corner of the world, but with an antagonistic twitch to his mouth so you get off to a wrong start.

You think you dislike each other, but when the power goes off, one cold winter’s night, you reluctantly bond over tea and toast by the fire. I’m afraid marmalade would be involved, but you pretend you like it to save face. He does the same with the tea which he secretly likes sweet and milky. He also has some lanky hounds who appear throughout this story, and on a cold night in question could warm themselves too, by the fire.

Possible names for your arrogant farmer include:
 Jack, Dylan, Sean, Liam or James.

MAX

I just made the three men who sit around me by barking with laughter when, cruising along in your story, a farmer appeared out of nowhere! ☺  Brilliant.
 

I think what will happen is I will choose Cork for some reason, be lucky enough to score a room in a dear little house in a dear little village that is being absorbed into the outermost suburbs of Cork (but has a great bus route to it from the City).

I will find it hard to find friends my own age because they would have all emigrated for work, so I will end up joining the darling little old ladies of the parish in their jam making, sponge baking and knitting.

One day, serving my wonderful sponge cake to the knitting circle and gossiping madly about our Dylan in America, I will be introduced to a returning grandson (he was in Africa somewhere teaching with an NGO) and we will conduct a slow and very much gossiped about romance in front of my best friends at the knitting circle. He will be the last gentleman in Ireland ☺

JOEY



Well you can tell your barking men that Dylan was walking the 10 miles from his remote ancestral home to the closest post office - which is only open once a week - to sort out a phone bill, and took a shortcut through your employer’s field which is how he stumbled across you, walking in the opposite direction and reciting poetry at the top of your lungs. (I mean, who does that?)

Or else, he didn’t know that the doddering OAPs had employed you and got suspicious when he saw smoke rising from the chimney (as he knew they were in Limerick visiting distant relations) whilst out on his tractor and came over to investigate, finding you in flagrante delecto in the main house, again reciting poetry at the top of your lungs!

So you see, barking engineers, Max was responsible for getting Dylan out of obscurity! I just helped their love story along a little bit by making it rain.


I do like your NGO returning grandson. He could have red hair.

MAX

Oh god – sorry – my cold is not making me make sense.
 
I meant to say I made the men around me JUMP when I barked with laughter because the farmer was so unexpected and welcome in the story.

But your exhortations still stand relevant, as the men around me are just jealous that I get brilliant stories in my inbox instead of boring work, which appears in theirs! I am the only one in this office that will burst out laughing in happiness when reading my emails. So THERE, boring engineers.

My laugh this time was REALLY loud ☺



I used to recite Banjo Patterson out aloud to the bush when I rode our horses on the farm. They would listen to me as we ambled along the fence lines. I used to wish that someone romantic would think that the ultimate accomplishment of the woman he wanted to marry, but I never met that poetry loving male. Not until Dylan that is. Dylan sounds Mr Darcy romantic, but I am over difficult men at the moment, I fancy a straight-forward man to be truthful. Hence my NGO Grandson, modelled on the lovely Scotsman from Skegness, with his utter truthfulness and lack of modern artifice. It is entirely likely that he will be in possession of fox-red hair ☺

If I cannot find a redhead in Ireland to romance, I am just not trying hard enough.
 
I am worried about the economic recession in Ireland at the moment – I am consulting the Lawyer in Cork Dad put me in touch with as to if the Admin Sector is still buoyant – it would be crazy to go if there genuinely was a recession, and they may not give me a visa anyway ☹

JOEY

Hehe my feathers were ruffled at the engineers thinking I had poor narrative skills.  I think you should aim for a thinking redhead to romance, as you are one smart lady

14 AUGUST

JOEY

Hehe … this is Dylan as a young tack with his Da … I can't find a more recent photo, but his expression has softened somewhat in the intervening years.
See you at 8.3X (that's between 8.30 and 8.40!)

MAX

Brilliant! :-) I hope his Da likes me. I may have to milk a cow and trim some hedgerows before he takes me seriously. I will be practising in between knitting lessons from Mum. God, so much to learn before Dylan and I meet.

Also, what do you think Dylan's Ma will think essential accomplishments for a girl who sets her hat at her boy? I can bake, cook, sew and shoot ...

JOEY

His ma will respect a woman who can put good food on the table at night, get her linen snow white and wrinkle-free and make a decent tea cake. She doesn't like those young girls with nothing but floss between their ears who are always making eyes at her boys, that's for sure. Although she's a straight-talking woman, she'll respect someone who can get along with Dylan's da, who is a fanciful, whiskey-drinking practical joker, always trying to trick you with his talk of fairies and folk tales. When he doesn't have much to say, he devotes time to cleaning his pipe or his gun. I think deep down Dylan's ma is a lot like Lynne from Hereford, she's a sweetheart, devoted to her family and farm. She might have a tough exterior, but that's just from years of hard work and raising 4 boys (Dylan, the twins Colin and Ryan, Thomas, the black-haired, blue-eyed eldest who works for a publishing house in Dublin). So, all in all, Dylan's ma is going to like you a lot more than her daughters-in-law (Colin and Ryan having married local floss with blonde highlights) because she can see you will love the farm as much as she does.

MAX

My immediate feeling - it sounds like Joey has decided which of Ma's boys SHE likes! :P

MAX

I like the sound of Dylan's Da, just the kind of Da I get along with. He sounds a little like Ash's Dad, who finally inducted me into the family a few months ago by getting me GOOD with a practical joke.

Dylan's Ma I think will have to be won over with plenty of time in the kitchen chopping potatoes and talking about all the things that women with sons don't get to talk about. First boyfriend’s mother was like that, she loved to talk girl talk with all her sons' girlfriends, which is why all her sons' girlfriends got along with each other as well.

I hope to have poddy calves and orphaned lambs and the only female puppy in Da's new litter of sheepdogs (which is when I know I am really in the family - none of the flosses have one of the family dogs). I will be OBSESSIVE about the vege garden, and Ma will teach me how to grow all the wildflowers around the area and I will introduce the family to the renewable energy revolution.

Da and Ma will let me have a tiny little nook by the fireplace with a small chair and table for my 'scratchings' and all the spare walls will suddenly grow more bookcases to hold all the books that will suddenly appear with me. I will also start a sideline in beading corsages for the local flosses little sisters for their balls. I will have both the Catholic and the Protestant clergy for dinners once a month, which will make the neighbourhood look sideways at me, but everything else will be normal about me, so they won't mind so much.

6 September 2010

Carol

I can still see the sunlight on the geraniums in the roof garden outside my window the day in London that I found your blog. For some reason I even remember walking down the wood-panelled hallway to my workmate Laura to laugh about the first post I read of yours that was so great it made me keep reading. It was the post about alerting the authorities to the drugs in the luggage of an ex-boyfriend? Anyway, I loved it and stayed to read. And a few days later I started reading Slinky Cat and the rest is cross-continential, blog-related friendship history.

As I drove away from Celina's house four weeks ago I was smiling, because I knew that I would go to Singapore next year with her and meet you finally. And after that, whenever we got our husbands delivered and had kids, or our nephews and nieces went travelling, they would be made to be friends because we were all friends. It seemed inevitable that such a great friendship would be felt into the next generation.

When Celina and I finally got our act together to meet (and that took a criminal three years) I immediately felt the loss of the years I was 'too busy' to meet someone in my own city. She was like her writing and beyond it - funny and fast and able to leap ahead with new ideas and new jokes. When we went to breakfast the second time we talked so much we lost about 30 minutes - Celina had to go at noon, we said goodbye, found another topic of conversation and suddenly it was 12.30! As we finally parted by means of simply stopping a full conversation in mid-flow, I knew that not being able to stop talking was the sign of a good friendship to come.

Then I had Celina to my parent's house for breakfast because I love to cook for my friends, and I wanted her to see the house I grew up in. As I get older I appreciate meeting my friend's families and seeing their childhood homes as it gives me a shape to their stories of growing up. Celina let me take her on the tour of the house to look at the photos of my brothers and sister, the view from my window and hear the stories of my family. She ate my famous mini-quiches and declared that it was a triumph of a breakfast. The funny thing was that we only half discussed all our topics of interest because we had only a few hours - we never really finished our conversations fully because of time restrictions - and we promised we would have more time next time to discuss everything in full.

And in order to fulfill this promise Celina cooked me lunch four weeks ago at her house and it was a wonderful day. She cooked soup and vegetables and pork belly that made me a little teary it was so good. We talked for hours and finally got to finish all our conversations. We talked at the top of our voices, laughed until we snorted and we very rude about a whole lot of people who should have known better than to mess with us. We discussed our various hapless men in full, looking at them from all angles and amused each other with cutting remarks. We discussed where Celina would go after she finished her degree and we discussed how hard it is to work doing what you love but getting paid a pittance for it. I was looking forward to seeing her in Singapore and going to see her wherever in Australia she decided to practice as a vet. Celina showed me a photo of you and Miss J that she had in her room and we inspected her bookcase and she lent me two books to read.

She finally had to kick me out so she could study, but I left with books, the recipe for pork belly and the glow of many conversations delighted in and plans made. I went home and spent almost two weeks telling all my friends about the feast Celina cooked me. That lunch was so lovely I got out my pen and paper and wrote to thank her for her generosity and time. When Tim sent me a message on Facebook that she was gone and I rang him in response, I was so shocked that I hadn't truly reacted until he mentioned my letter. I had only thought about the letter that morning as I tried to calculate if Celina's family had gone home yet so she would be free to catch up and chat about the visit. I was missing her. I asked Tim if my letter had been opened and he said yes - and I started crying. I had finally realised what had happened and I was pathetically grateful that I had thanked Celina for her wonderful gift of her time, cooking and conversation. At least she knew a little bit of how much I appreciated her place in my life.

Quite apart from what a pleasure she was in person (and I always felt as if meeting up with Celina for food was an event and I would get a bit excited about how much fun we would have), it was what she had DONE that made me so thrilled to know her. Whenever I told any of my other friends about her, I would say she was the Corporate Lawyer from Singapore who had Saved to come to Perth to be A Vet (and I met her through Her Blog). Celina had done things, hard things, long years of study and work so she could take the steps she needed to towards her goals. She had character and she was a character because she worked hard and she cared about things other than money and the trappings of success. And it made her someone with whom you knew you could take flights of fancy because she was a dreamer as well.

I cannot adequately thank you for being the woman through whom I met Celina. Thank you. She made an impact on my life from the first meeting. The second last time I saw her we went to a bookshop after our breakfast and I bought a biography of my favourite poet, Emily Dickinson. I have enjoyed the book immensely, but today sat down and wrote in the front of the book:

Bought in the company of Celina Chau 18 July 2010. Celina died in a car accident on Friday 3 September 2010.

I have added a verse from Emily to that inscription as well, but it is one of Emily's other poems that I would like to write now. When I first read it I was a stranger to great grief, and I merely admired its clever imagery. But now that I am gathering my thoughts of a short but important friendship to allow me to grieve, I appreciate the dichotomy at the heart of thinking of those who are not around, for as Shakespeare, you and I know - as we love, we lose ...

If recollecting were forgetting,

Then I remember not,

And if forgetting, recollecting,

How near I had forgot,

And if to miss, were merry,

And to mourn, were gay,

How very blithe the fingers

That gathered this, today!

18 August 2003

From the email:
The coach trip out to Oxford was a just what the doctor ordered. I got to see rolling hedge-bound fields, thickly forested valleys and the cutest little ivy covered cottages. I fell asleep so I missed the entrance to Oxford and at first the outer suburbs looked disappointingly like Morden. Then we turned a corner and were on a High Street lined with the most divine old buildings I have seen yet in my three weeks in Britain. I am seriously excited about tomorrow. I predict a rather stunned Max trying to prevent herself from photographing every College in the town!

The town is quite handsome and is full to bursting of young people. I had dinner in a lovely gourmet pizza restaurant and was watching the diners with interest. There were two men in dogcollars with large family groups and I was a bit puzzled until it clicked that they were probably lecturers. As one group was leaving the waitress was chatting to them about some of the lecturers she had. At that moment I began to really miss Uni while simultaneously wishing that I had lived in a University town. What fun!

I am off to bed to prepare myself to roam the Colleges tomorrow.

4 August 2003

From the email:

It was a scorcher today, really hot. And it was striking the Londoners down like a plague. At each Tube stop there was a little sign saying that if you started feeling faint, to seek help as *drum roll* it was going to be 35 degrees ... ARGH! The sahara! 

Since it was so hot, M used the search for airconditioning as an excuse to show me her favourite shops, Bluewater. Bluewater is the Galleria on steroids. Built by Australians in a quarry outside Woolwich, it felt like home as soon as I stepped into it. The English just don't have shopping centres like we do ...

Airconditioning is a great idea, and teamed with shopping, well, what girl is going to say no?

The itsy bitsy problem was that the trip to Bluewater entailed a one and a half hour bus trip in buses WITH WINDOWS THAT DIDN'T OPEN! It was inhuman torture. Who was the doofus who thought air circulation was so last century? Let me at them ...

It was a driving sauna in those buses. But driving around the endless suburbs of London you get a real feel for just how huge the place is. The buses were taking us out to the coast and on the way we passed some pretty interesting stuff.

First of all there was the small area called Crook Log. Everything was named after it, Crook Log Medical Centre, Crook Log B&B ... 

Then we passed this HUGE bridge that was very deceptive. It had only two pylons and looked like a footbridge that goes across a Perth freeway. Yet watching the traffic driving across it you see huge tankers looking like Tonka trucks.

The best site on the trip was the pub called ... the Frog and Radiator, complete with a sign consisting of a ... you guessed it ... a frog perched ontop of a radiator. God bless their cotton socks.

3 August 2003

From the email:

It's fabulous weather right now, hitting about 35 degrees and I lay out in the garden reading the Salmon of Doubt and getting myself my first English tan *Max shifts uncomfortably to reach the aloe vera for her pink shoulders* After I had done my shoulders medium rare I ventured out with water bottle and my coolest (temperature wise!) clothes to Morden Park across the road. It looked like a park for an estate that you would expect to see a BBC period drama set in - huge lawns, large trees and mock Tudor houses rising above the trees on the hills. I was perched on a rustic seat on the top of the park and I kept on hearing rustling in the very dense blackberry bushes behind me. RATS! My god they were huge too. If I hadn't liked Ratty in Toad of Toad Hall ...

The strangest thing about my Sunday of country living was the sky. At 10am in the morning it was a pristine blue, but each time a plane flew over it left a vapour trail that didn't disperse. By 1pm there were 15 vapour trails perfectly intersecting across the sky and as the day wore on they were joined by others. Eventually the older ones began to spread and by 8pm (which looked like our 5pm) the sky was completely covered with the slowly dispersing cloud.

2 August 2003

From the email:

Saturday I went to Camden markets ... well actually myself, half of London and ALL the tourists. It was another clear hot day and the place was jumping. I nearly died from over salivation at the North African BBQ stalls ... the smell was heavenly. I managed to see every shoe shop in Camden as I was on a mission for a pair of sneakers. After a while I realised that EVERY shop I went into had a wall of bongs in it ... bizarre. We then headed to Portobello Road, which was closing as we arrived.

From the diary:

We are in a ground floor apartment on an Estate and it is so bloody English! We have a long overgrown garden with blackberries and lavender. A sunroom painted electric blue with fairy lights and a disco ball. A very serviceable kitchen. The bathroom is fantastic, orange and blue tiles, a bath and the cutest little unit. All her furniture is pretty cool, huge chunky woodens affair, a scattering of antiques and mock antiques and some painted with stressed paint. Very funky. My room is blue with a green wall and I need to arrange the furniture. The lounge is huge with two sofas and Jack’s room is red with the most spectacular huge wardrobes. I have yet to travel to town or have a look around but I like it down here.

31 July 2003

From the email:

Your own English correspondant has just been watching some English Home Improvement shows and I can quite confidently say the presenters are DIVINE, but what they perpetrate on the room is NOT. Horseshoes spraypainted white with fairystones glued on them, taking pride of place over the fireplace, a 'curiosity' coffee table with a glass top through which you can see the huge fake agapantha flowers resting on velvet ... URGH! The presenter though! Lordy, the accent, the english alternative rock hair, the fabulous clothes *sigh* PITY about the taste in decorating.

I went to Harrods yesterday, and had to ring M to expect me a little late for dinner because I had wasted about 20 minutes staring at a bag. Love at first sight.

Apart from the window shopping though I just strolled down Picadilly. It is FABULOUS weather right now, lots of sun (I may even have gotten a light TAN shock horror), but the pure amount of cub scouts, groups of Japanese tourists in matching caps and backpacks and badly dressed Americans running around ... hilarious. I was asked three times yesterday if I was Australian purely from me saying 'hi'. Yup, tourist written all over me.

Yesterday afternoon M, M and I went for a run (in the rain because all that lovely sun disappeared as soon as I was using it for good and not for evil) and we went through Epping Forest which has Snaresbrook Crown Court on the lake. At one point there is no modern buildings in sight and you could swear you were back in 1600 with the white swans on the lake and the castle rising up out of the trees ...*sigh* I am very happy.

29 July 2003

From the email: 
To be quite honest, I am sitting here in what could be a set for one of the Ruth Rendell telemovies and I find myself waiting for Inspector Wexford to knock on the door. My home for the next four days is very cool; the top apartment in a terraced house in a series of tiny streets of curry houses, pubs, terraced houses, pubs, long narrow picket-fenced cottage gardens and pubs. 

But I'd have to say that it was the handy flight plan on the TV on the plane that defined my journey. I found the only thing that kept my mind off how very sad I was feeling about leaving everyone behind for so long was watching the land over which I was flying. I really started getting excited over the Caspian Sea and once we hit the Carpathians the flight attendants would take turns to ask me to return to my seat because I had my nose pressed against the glass of the exit windows. Over Germany the attendants got REALLY shirty, there was a lot of turbulance but the sunrise was unreal. The best part was actually about 30 minutes before we got into Singapore ... a lightening storm above the cloud layer against the sunset ... spectacular. 

Once into Heathrow I was interviewed by an immigration officier who spent more time holding forth on the phenomenon of Australian passports smelling of fish than asking me about my VISA. One confused gentleman tried to make off with my luggage at the retrieval but I managed to head him off and there was NO customs (hehe). I was waiting for Monica in the lounge and I saw a Bobby, a Black Cab and a car rental agent holding a sign for Mrs Primrose Taylor-Barrington. Welcome to England.

27 June 2011

Pre-Dinner Pun Run

Three friends planning to dine together at a Thai Restaurant.

Jay: Let's Thai it down!

Rhys: That's thai-riffic then. Does 6.30pm suit... remember I am a nanna these days and I can't be home too late (you will see me starting to fade before your eyes).

Jay: Thai me kangaroo down, sport!

Max: Good lord girls, your puns are getting thai-ed.

Jay: I think I will have a big appeThait on Thursday ;P

Max: Thank goodness we are not on Thait budgets then ...

Jay: hopefully the food will be enThaising

Max: And the conversation will be enthai-taining ...

Jay: We had better be on Thaim because Rhys can't stay out too late

Max: I think you are right, she will be re-thai-ring early. You and I can go paint the thai-n red once she leaves though ...

Jay: I am signing off now as I am Thai-red of work. It's Thaim to go home. I will Thai my best not to think of any more puns.

2012
I warn each friend that their formally private exchanges are being mined for material, so I sent the above exchange to Jay and Rhys, and the below resulted:

Jay: Thanks for the enthaitainment.

Max: You were enthaitled to know you are going to be starring in a great lithairary endeavour!

Jay: It's going to be thaim consuming for you.
You can't thai a good pun down.

20 June 2011

From the email:

and God said unto Woman 'I gave you Eyes because I gave Men Bums. And I expect Woman to ogle Men's Bums (and Virile Beards) with aforementioned Eyes or I shall strike your Eyes out. Aye, your Eyes ... you know what, I will use that somewhere else in the Bible. An Eye for an Eye. I am a genius God. Booyah. Bums.'

10 June 2010

From the email:

I was brought up by passionate beef farmers, which meant that I ate red meat every day growing up. Once my parents started breeding cattle, we ate meat that came from animals that we named and got to know. The footage that Four Corners put on the screen was disgusting for me to watch because I know cattle, and those terrified eyes were the eyes of animals that did not deserve to die in that manner.

But I eat meat, and will for quite a large portion of my life, and while I understand (and am secretly quiet excited about the idea) that the tradition of farming animals for meat will soon become a luxury and then disappear all together, there is another side to the story. No cattle owning family in Australia wants to see the cattle they breed and spend every day looking after treated as they were in the footage on Four Corners. That is not why farmers get into the business, it is not why they stay in the business and it is not why they work so hard.

So in the interest of not being hypocritical, I would like to publish this letter, forwarded to me by my Mum.

It is an excellent letter. People need to know that if they don't want to eat animals, they should be vegetarians. And if they are too lazy to be vegetarian and still hold that animals should magically not die for meat, they need to look openly at what killing an animal means. You have to know the price of the decisions you make.

The price applies to everything, the China Price of the components that make up the Mac I am typing on, the political and economic freedom I enjoy as an Australian woman that is not even conceivable to most of the women of this planet. A society is judged by how they treat those they can legitimately exploit under the current economic and political systems – animals, women, those who work in service and manufacturing, indigenous populations. Humans cannot survive without exploitation, but when we exploit, we should be able to look it in the face for what it is.

Dear Sir,

I must introduce myself. My name is Scot Braithwaite and my life has basically revolved around live export since I was 10 years old. I was unloading cattle boats in Malaysia at the age of 13. I have worked for all the major cattle companies including as a Head Stockman in the Northern Territory. I have a degree in economics from the Queensland University and I personally have sold more than 1.5 million head of cattle into Indonesia since 1991. I am presently employed as the marketing manager for Wellard rural exports.

I am writing to you after the Monday program to say that although I abhor the treatment of the animals shown in the video, your one sided approach to the subject and the possible effect of that of a ban on live exports is too big a price to pay for a report based on the evidence of an organization that’s charter is to shut us down. I have the following points to make. I would like to have the same time as those who denigrated my life to show you the other side of our industry. To show you what is really going on. In Australia there used to be thing about “A fair Go”. You have gone with images provided by one person followed up by your investigative journalist who spent a week in Indonesia. Your report makes out that close to 100% of Australian cattle are treated as was shown on TV.

1 the ship that appears in the footage “for less than 30 seconds” is a vessel that cost tens of millions of dollars to build. We have had 3 separate media groups sail with this ship and it can in no uncertain terms be described as best in class. The Wellard group has another 3 vessels of the same standard with another 2 being built in China. This is a total investment of 400 million dollars to ensure that livestock exports from Australia are undertaken at the utmost levels of cow comfort and animal welfare.

2 the feedlot that was filmed was given a 10 second view. This feedlot is without a doubt world class. Your viewers should have at least had the opportunity to view large numbers of cattle eating and sleeping comfortably in a fantastic facility. This company has in addition moved to kill all his cattle through stunning system that he has control of. This owner has spent 20 years of his life in the industry, has built his business from nothing, has done all that is required of him from an animal welfare point of view yet your reporter makes no mention of these things.

3 within A 3 HOUR DRIVE OR a 15 Minute helicopter there are another 3 world class facilities. All three feedlots including the one filmed, are at, or better than, what can be found in Australia. The cattle being fed, and the ration being fed, leads to a lot less animal health issues then a similar size operation in Australia.

One of these facilities is operated and owned by a large Australian pastoral house. They had no mention in your supposed unbiased report. The operation is run by a North Queensland man who, through His absolute dedication to excellence has built a feedlot and slaughtering system that his company, the industry and himself can be very proud of. The system is closed, all the cattle are already killed through their own abattoir. They import 20 to 25000 cattle year. They have been doing this for at least 5 years.

Why should they be shut down? For what reason could anyone justify closing this operation down, especially without even bothering to look at what goes on.

4 the other world class feedlots that could have been investigated with a 3 hour ride in the car are owned by a large publicly listed Indonesian company. In all, they have on feed 50,000 cattle and import about 120,000 cattle a year. They have recently built an abattoir( the one that was briefly shown on the program) They built this 2 years ago as they knew that modern methods must come to Indonesia and they were willing to make the investment to make it happen.

The total investment from these 3 feedlotters alone in infrastructure and stock is over 100 million dollars. Add to that the hundreds of millions that Wellard have recently invested in ships and do you really believe that these people would leave the final product to a murderous bastard with a blunt knife? They not only have tried to ensure the welfare of the animal but have made investments to make the changes all along the chain. These people deserve to have their side of the story heard. If the system is not perfect, and it isn’t, they have the wherewithal and the incentive to make it happen in a very short time.

These 3 importers who have shown a commitment to everything good about animal production, handle 45 % of total imports.

The other major issue that was not covered was the social responsibility that all feedlotters in Indonesia practice. Their operations are in relatively isolated poor areas; the feedlots provide employment opportunity,  advancement through effort, and a market for thousands of tons of feedstuffs grown for the cattle. My understanding is that 8000 people are directly employed by the feedlots and over 1000000 people are reliant on the regular income made from supplying corn silage and other feedstuffs. This is not made up, it is fact. It can be easily checked. I will bet my 1000000 farmers against the 1000000 signatures on the ban order. It is very easy to sit in your comfortable chair and criticize but is it really worth the human cost to ban something that can be fixed and fixed reasonable quickly?

That is Sumatra.

In JKT there is the largest privately owned abattoir that kills about 4 to 6000 heads a month. It is a well run facility that has no welfare issues. In addition it was working on getting a stun system in place well before the 4 corners report.  No photos from here, yet this is another who has been doing the right thing and who will lose his business if the trade is banned.

The largest Importer in to Jakarta, has also built a slaughter facility in the past 12 months. It has not been commissioned yet but can be made ready within a month. They also have a private bone to pick with the program. AS was not reported in the show, abattoirs in Indonesia are operated by any number of individual ‘Wholesalers”. They control the space and the manpower kills their number for the night and then hand over to the next team. In any one night 8 to 10 separate operators can be using the same facility. In the case of the footage of the head slapping the camera panned to the cattle waiting and the tags of AA, Newcastle Waters and his company were made very prominent. Yes, they were there but the team that handled was different to one being filmed. They protest, that their crews are well trained, no head slapping occurs and very large and sharp knives are used to ensure a bloody but quick end. I have no reason to doubt them because I have seen a lot of their cattle handled at point of slaughter and their crews are well trained with immediate results. Where can their case be heard?

I have watched literally thousands of cattle slaughtered in the boxes in Indonesia. Yes there are problems, as there are at every point of slaughter on every type of animal in the world, but 98% of the cattle I watched killed was quick and without fuss. Why is there not one shot of what happens 98% of the time?  The shots of outright cruelty are totally unacceptable and the slaughter of cattle is still gruesome and confronting but is not as prevalent as portrayed in your report. Yes it does some times happen but it is the exception not the rule. And we are already taking steps to improve the system and we have the ability to ensure all animals are stunned in a very short time.

Yes there are a couple of operators who in the short term will not be able to handle the new way. But they will be dropped, no commitment to stunning, no supply. No negotiation. There are also a number of operators privately owned who were, to all intents and purposes, doing the right thing. They were asked to supply through the boxes and they have. They will be asked to only supply though a stunning FACILITY and they will. They have far too much invested in the whole industry over many years to not do as we ask.

I am asking for a fair go. You have been expertly manipulated. Hear the actual other side of the story let the Australian public see both sides. I am happy to make all the arrangements. This is too important to let sit with the images you portrayed on Monday without recourse.

Scot Braithwaite