When this ruddy war is over

During the First World War, one-tenth of the Australian male population enlisted. Everyone in this country knew someone who had gone to war. Many never returned.

The grave that they dug him had flowers
Gathered from the hillsides in bright summer colors
And the brown earth bleached white
At the edge of his gravestone
He’s gone
When the wars of our nation did beckon
The man, barely twenty, did answer the calling
Proud of the trust
That he placed in our nation
He’s gone
But eternity knows him
And it knows what we’ve done
And the rain fell like pearls
On the leaves of the flowers
Leaving brown, muddy clay
Where the earth had been dry
And deep in the trench
He waited for hours
As he held to his rifle
And prayed not to die
But the silence of night
Was shattered by fire
As the guns and grenades
Blasted sharp through the air
One after another
His comrades were slaughtered
In the morgue of marines
Alone, standing there
He crouched ever lower
Ever lower, with fear
They can’t let me die
They can’t let me die here
I’ll cover myself
With the mud and the earth
I’ll cover myself
I know I’m not brave
The earth, the earth
The earth is my grave
The grave that they dug him had flowers
Gathered from the hillsides in bright summer colors
And the brown earth bleached white
At the edge of his gravestone
He’s gone
We have learned nothing in the past 100 years. One day when women are in power, we may not send our beautiful youth to fight in senseless wars.

Wentworth falls

Yesterday there was a by-election held in the electorate where my children go to school. At the polling booth, I asked an older Liberal party member who was handing out how to vote cards how he could campaign for climate denial when the science is clear. He asked me a question about H2o or Co2 levels in the atmosphere then told me off for not knowing the answer.

“You should educate yourself,” he said.

“I believe the scientists,” I replied but because I couldn’t answer his science questions he laughed. My brain has never retained STEM facts so that’s not proof that global warming doesn’t exist, it’s proof that 99% of the time my mind is off with the pixies dreaming up single mum get rich quick schemes, and maths and science are not my strong point.

When I said to him, “How about your party find some strong policies instead of incessantly bitching about the Opposition?” he told me I didn’t understand science. He is right but I clearly understand that I don’t want our beautiful environment destroyed by corporate and political greed.

Even a former Liberal Party leader stated the day before the poll: “You forfeit the right to govern if you don’t have a climate action strategy.”

A few hours later the Government lost a safe seat they’d held for 117 years, and the Prime Minister gave a tone-deaf concession speech attacking opposition leader Bill Shorten and people on welfare. I’m no policy-maker but here are a few ideas if they want to stay in government next year:

Where 45% of the electorate are renters, don’t talk to us about negative gearing. Overpaid members of parliament have used Australians on low and below the poverty line income to buy and push up house prices. We are sick of subsidising wealthy politicians who manipulate the property market. Let’s remove this rort.

We’ve had three conservative Prime Ministers in two and a half years, so perhaps don’t mention stability and certainty in your election promises. Nor economic management when you’ve tripled the deficit and refused to help low income families in the five years you’ve been in power.

And let’s not mention the NBN debacle.

The conservatives have now lost their majority in the lower house. Maybe with a hung parliament we can get the kids off Nauru without having to go to court.

Liberal party, it’s not 1954, you could try listening to voters. All over the world, educated people are living to the 21st century. Wentworth liked the guy who you kicked out of the job, so they decided to elect a progressive independent doctor who believes in climate change. Maybe your party can’t attract women with integrity because no intelligent lady would join your gang of dinosaurs. Scott Morrison, try inspiring our country with visionary ideas, you currently sound like a used car salesman trying to sell us a clapped out, dodgy lemon. Your hollow words are (went) worthless


Hollyweird diet

Hellbent on making a success of my spring into summer self-improvement program, this week I looked online for inspiration to kickstart my new attitude. I noticed that Hollywood stars like Mark Wahlberg are a wonderful source of realistic life goals. Marky Mark is a busy man: an actor, father of 4, restaurant owner and car dealer. He recently posted an hour by hour Insta story of his daily workout and routine:

2:30 a.m.: wake up

2:45 a.m. pray

3:15 a.m.: breakfast — “I start out with steel oats, peanut butter, blueberries and eggs for breakfast,” Wahlberg says. “Then I have a vanilla latte protein shake, three turkey burgers and five pieces of sweet potato.”

3:40 to 5:15 a.m.: work out. The actor posted videos of himself doing reverse lunges, vertical presses and overhead presses for weight training.

5:30 a.m.: post-workout meal

He goes into detail about everything he eats: “At 8 I have 10 turkey meatballs; at 10:30, a grilled chicken salad with two hard-boiled eggs, olive, avocado, cucumber, tomato, lettuce; at 1pm a New York steak with peppers; at 3:30 grilled chicken with bok choy, and att 5:30, a piece of halibut, cod or sea bass.”

After his workouts, Wahlberg has a session in a cryotherapy chamber, kept at 150 degrees below zero. Apparently the cold removes inflammation and can improve sleep.

He has family time at 11am and 5:30pm., and picks up his kids at school at 3.

The 46-year-old  says, “The only way to be the best is to keep working like you got nothing. Keep getting after it, and be more and more aggressive, more and more focused every day. I have more drive and desire now than I ever have.”

I couldn’t find the paragraph where Marky talks about washing his kids’ dirty undies. smashing the patriarchy and helping homeless people, so I’m sharing my social influencer, intensive single mother schedule to help my huge list of followers:

2.30am Lie awake and think about all the bills I need to pay

4.45am Rage about the misogynists who are still in government

5am pray I’ll have the money to pay the rent

6.36am Answer phone call from nursing home about mother’s missing pants

7.53am Realise I’ve over slept, yell at kids to get to school

8.18am Stare at cranky face in bathroom mirror

8.19am Sudden realisation that is my unrested bitch face

8.44am Accidentally throw chicken neck in the cat’s water bowl

8.47am Drive kids to school, late again

Throw lukewarm coffee and over ripe fruit in gob while at traffic lights

9.29am Get to work and make some kind of hideous flavoured tea

1.33pm Realise lunch is in fridge at home, hope blood sugar doesn’t fall too low. Pray there is cake or biscuits in the tea room

3.18pm Steal bite of colleague’s meal, one hour before finishing

3.38pm Hope kids got on their overcrowded school bus

4.28pm Slump home low in energy. Read emails from teachers about youngest child’s unfinished homework. Jump to conclusions

5.59pm Hurl dinner in oven, leaving plastic wrap on frozen pizza, wonder why kids complain about taste 

7.21pm Nag teenagers about bedroom floor-drobe, junk food wrapper rubbish removal, overuse of Snapchat

8.17pm Eat whole block of cooking chocolate while trying to manage 417 emails

9.03pm Drown anxiety with flat leftover wine from fridge

10.47pm Shout, “turn the music down, you’ll wake the neighbours,” repeatedly at five minute intervals. Chug down cold tea

11.25pm Reheat mashed potato and eat too fast

Midnight wake up freezing with no covers on, youngest child and cat have stolen all blankets

12.08am Unpack mouldy lunchbox. Deeply regret eating mash

12.19am Wonder why Trump is still in the White House

1am Promise myself I will be more focused and hardworking tomorrow, walk to work, write lists of gratitude, achievements, life goals, brainstorm ways to monetise our appealing life with sponsored Instagram posts, plan kitchen cupboards, write thank you cards, drink organic kale smoothies, start Xmas shopping months too early, achieve my potential, push kids like a tiger mother, monitor internet usage, start a Facebook page for our cat and hope followers will pay vet bills, write crowdfunding appeal to get car back on the road, develop impulse control and do Pilates three times a day

1.18pm wake up dribbling on list, decide to rewrite one day


Important stuff single mothers must do before we die

The items I most want to tick off my chuck it in the bucket list:
1. Find a single 97-year-old billionaire outside a Las Vegas wedding chapel
2. Earn enough money for cask wine, Prozac, Phenergan & 2-minute noodles

3. Post about single motherhood money challenges without being contacted by a self-employed pyramid scheming guru wanting me to invest in their ‘incredible once in lifetime opportunity, don’t miss out, fast-growing’ business
4. Finish a sentence without being interrupted by a chatty child
5. Block well-meaning women on social media whose side career is marketing anti-aging cosmetics, life-changing cleanses and other ‘green’ products of dubious nutritional value
6. Get thrown off a mechanical bull into an enormous foam pit full of cash
7. Strip without grimacing
8. Skydive into a ginormous bucket of French champagne
9. Do a poo in peace in a toilet that has been cleaned by someone else
10. Get ex to pay for kids (dreaming)
11. Dare to live fully while sleeping 16 hours a day in a room with a view
12. Draft legislation to outlaw the word ‘panties’
13. Have a holiday that doesn’t involve child-friendly parks
14. Fly a hot air balloon into a massive pot of gold
15. Children shoplift without getting caught
16. Doze on a beach for 12 months while servants cater to every whim
17. Hear the sound of silence in my head
18. Smile because I’m not worrying about bills I can’t pay

19. Snorkel with old friends in an Olympic-sized pool of gin

20. Outlaw bucket lists


Politicians have a lot to be modest about

This week I woke up dressed in a diabolical fashion, with unflattering lighting overhead and inedible food by my bed. No, it wasn’t Mother’s Day. When I walked into the main hospital building that morning, the first thing I noticed was the drab decor; so hideous that the caring lovelies working there had tried to patch up the dullness with bright paintings, but I could feel the bacteria and sadness in the walls.

But we do have incredible care. When I came to after my anaesthetic, I had the most lovely pregnant nurse and I couldn’t get over how grateful I felt that we have great health care in Australia. Everyone was so caring I shed a few tears, I felt blessed that this was my first thought. I looked around and noticed that the hospital staff represented every corner of the universe, Africa, Asia, alien, Australia, America, Pacific Islands, Europe and bogan. Despite the racial hatred pollies who’ve received very few votes are trying to stir up, Australians are a mixed bag of nationalities who want to work and live together in harmony without politicians telling us we can’t.

I had a general anaesthetic so I could have Botox injected into my bum muscle (I speak fluent doctor yeah) to try to repair nerve damage from an operation I had in April. I did ask but the doctor wouldn’t do a 2 for the price of 1 Botox deal on my arse and my face. Bloody Medicare. Before I went under, my colorectal surgeon told me to eat soft foods, when I awoke I was served beef so tough it could have been used by our defence forces. And the doctor wouldn’t let me go until my blood pressure and pulse rate went up so I sat in a chair scoffing non-hospital food until I was allowed to leave. I’m happy to be home. On my return, there was a two-stage political coup erupting to change our Prime Minister. Here comes the revolution: We’ve changed to a conservative god bothering white male from a mega-rich white male. Plus ca change. And now that the weekend is here, and our right-wing politicians have finished throwing tantrums and travelled away from the Canberra bubble, I’d like to help those boorish pale males think about something other than themselves, perhaps the nation’s healthcare, education, domestic violence, babies dying in detention centres or even a treaty with the people who were here first.

Politicians, I can’t believe I have to spell it out for you, but most of you are ego driven and need Commcar drivers to help you get to work at Parliament House because you couldn’t find the place by yourself. You are public servants, we voted for you to serve us, not to watch you cower before opinion polls, you spineless idiots. Walk into the hospital, STFU, listen and watch how a diverse group of people co-operate, learn how they carry on their jobs without petty squabbles, working as a team to achieve incredible outcomes for the good of all humanity. This may help as most of you couldn’t organise a piss-up in a brewery. If you still don’t get it, be careful the door doesn’t hit your unBotoxed bums on the way out.


The game of life

This week the NRL, AFL, rugby and soccer boys are wearing a new strip on the field. It’s magenta polka dots, lightning bolts and zebra stripes, with olive and puce armbands, which stands for raising awareness week and making sure caring and giving back is in the headlines with a few high profile footy boofheads adorned in the right colours.

In a profound press release, Lina Tell-All White a publicist with a certificate in marketing and an educational background that includes being expelled from most upmarket Sydney schools revealed,
“We’re raising awareness of raising awareness. There may be a fun run. We had seven different marketing committees choosing the palette and pairing it with matching wines and food served in gumboots at an overpriced invitation-only dinner at an exclusive inner city hotel. What it means is that we stand for making instant Instagram stars of the people wearing the well-chosen outfits and hoping their media profiles will raise awareness of a thoughtful charity drive that will make money so we can show that we’re thinking of lots of issues on right-wing radio, commercial television and all the socials. It’s really important for politicians, influencers and even ordinary punters to know what we stand for. Even if we don’t.”

“We are also running another timely campaign, we desperately need funding to buy more açai smoothie bowls for girls who went to overpriced schools who now can’t afford to buy homes within 20 kilometres of the expensive suburb they grew up in. It’s a national tragedy and we need to fix it,” said another spokeswoman from a massive yacht on Sydney Harbour. “They may not be homeless but their needs are great.  Raising Awareness, reality TV ‘stars’ wearing exorbitantly priced clothing and building fame, that’s really all we want from a charity appeal, Australia just doesn’t have enough of it. Our thoughts and prayers are with all the celebrities with less than 100K followers on Instagram.”


Spring fashun for style-ish single mothers

It’s that time of year again, when the most important issue keeping us awake at night is not that the madman in the White House or Turnbull gifting multi millions to bogus charitable foundations, but what the hell are we style queens on a budget going to wear when global warming makes us suffer stifling summer weather all year round. Remarkable fashion looks like these are on my mind:

Bare feet are more affordable than ballet flats for running around after little monsters

Basic black is timeless when it comes to stained T-shirts

Add edge to your look with UGH boots, they do the trick paired with undies

’90s style is making a serious comeback, flanelette underpants give us grunge chic without sacrificing comfort

A fashionable recyclable Coles shopping bag is the perfect weekend skirt, pair it with sleeves made from the excessive wrappings off your fruit

Coconut halves, with a nod to equestrian style, are now the ubiquitous spring shoe to pair with everything from cut-off shorts to a floral sundress

Add polish to a t-shirt and jeans by wearing your old wedding dress over the top

Through snow and ice, gum boots are a must have, especially when you can’t bear to put on clothes for the umpteenth time

Add sultry style to your look with no bra

Brenton Wood – The Oogum Boogum Song 1967