Red Dirt Diary 3 (6 page)

Anyway, we are expecting eight carrier pigeons to be delivered to Hardbake Plains Public School on Monday. I asked Davo and Jack to write an article about carrier pigeons for the next edition of
The Bake Tribulation
. They're sure to write something dodgy that I can then blame on the Colonel …

Friday, 18 May

Have two more news articles ready for the next edition of
The Bake Tribulation
. ‘Sink your teeth
into cheese' by Edna Scott is proof that our newspaper is a great thing for Hardbake Plains. Thanks to the generous donation of
three
pairs of false teeth, President Barry Scott is now able to chair this month's meeting of the Cheese Tasters' Club.

‘Blueberries — the naked truth' by Davo Hartley sheds new light on the whole blue poo issue. Apparently
fresh
blueberries can have quite a different effect to blueberry jam! There are some interesting descriptions from Davo's cousin Marianne, whose parents own a berry farm near Armidale.

Worms was getting very emotional at recess because he couldn't open his third muesli bar. The Colonel pulled a magnifying glass from his pocket, lined it up between the sun and the muesli bar and held it there until a beam of light burnt through the end of the wrapping. He blew the ashes away, tore the hole open, pulled out the muesli bar and handed it to Worms.

Worms was so grateful, he nearly fainted.

I pointed out to Mat (at the top of my voice, so that everyone in the playground could hear) that scissors would have worked much faster. It backfired because Sarah spent the rest of recess
lecturing me on the dangers of bringing
naked
scissors out into the playground where children were running and galloping and leaping and could end up impaled on the end of a sharp blade!

Found Mrs Whittington asleep in her chicken coop behind Magpie's Rest this afternoon. Macka was sitting outside the fence as though he was keeping guard.

When I woke Mrs Whittington and led her inside, she was very upset because she had missed afternoon tea with Gertrude, Mildred and Doris. Gertrude, Mildred and Doris didn't seem too upset. They had broken into Mrs W's kitchen, had eaten all her jam drops and were sleeping in front of the old wood stove.

Saturday, 19 May

Wes and Fez shot arrows through three towels, two T-shirts, a pillowcase, Mum's pink nighty and a pair of Dad's jocks today. Mum was furious when she took the washing off the line and sent Wes and Fez to their room.

Dad said, ‘Oh, well … I s'pose it could be worse. I could have been
wearing
my jocks at the time.'

He does have a point there.

By the time Wes and Fez came out for dinner, they had burnt their names on their windowsill using a magnifying glass and written their next manners column for the newspaper:

Caught them putting numbers 1, 2, 3, 4 and 6 into action at dinner time.

Sunday, 20 May

Woken by foxes at 6.30 am. Wes and Fez ran out with their bows and arrows ready for action. They shot the laundry door five times and smashed three of Mum's pot plants. I wanted a go but they wouldn't let me and the foxes ran free.

Mr Cluff and the Colonel came out to Hillrose Poo today. The Colonel was rapt with the pig chariots. He raced Fez and Mildred along the driveway three times before lunch and won each time!

‘Fascinating mode of transport!' he boomed while we ate our roast lamb and gravy. ‘Reminds me of the Great Andes Mountain Battle of 1982 where the ambulances ran out of petrol. Had to harness guinea pigs to tow our wounded back to
the field hospital. It was a jolly nuisance catching all those little critters … and darned fiddly weaving those tiny harnesses, but we did it in the end. Saved 457 men in three days, so you can't say it wasn't worth the effort. Fifteen thousand guinea pigs were awarded the Rodent Red Ribbon for Endurance. Amazing feat! I was proud to be a part of it!'

It was very difficult not to laugh. I inhaled three peas trying to suck it all in.

After lunch the Colonel sat on the veranda with Petal and me. Petal popped onto his lap and nibbled affectionately on his shirt buttons. She didn't even poop on him. Little traitor!

‘What a magnificent duck!' the Colonel boomed. ‘Reminds me of a goose I once had. Wonderful, wonderful pet. Named her Gloria. She could spot a slug on a cabbage from ten metres away and could beat any dog in a fight. Had a nasty habit of hiding all my socks and eating the sultanas out of my cereal. But still, she was a marvellous companion, and was kindhearted and loyal till the day she died.'

A goose called Gloria! How cute is that?

Why does the Colonel have to be so interesting?

And likeable?

I just wish he would go back to the Amazon Jungle or the Himalayan Alps or wherever he comes from, and LEAVE US ALL ALONE.

Monday, 21 May

Woken by foxes at 6.30 am. Wes and Fez ran out with the bow and arrows and shot three veranda posts and a bag of chook pellets. I had a go and shot Dad in the bum as he chased after the foxes with the shovel. Mum has confiscated the archery equipment.

Heaps of kids brought magnifying glasses to school today. They were burning their way through chip packets, sultana boxes and cake wrappings. Gary accidentally set his sandwich wrapping on fire and totally melted his lunchbox. Hope his mum gets mad and blames the Colonel.

Davo and Jack had spent all weekend at Jack's house writing their article on carrier pigeons. It is a truly unique piece of journalism:

The pigeons didn't arrive. It was really disappointing. The Colonel had spent all weekend at school with Mr Cluff and Mr Hartley
building a coop, and everyone had been so excited. Maybe they'll come tomorrow.

Tuesday, 22 May

Sunshine had a specials board out the front of the pub when we drove past on the way to school:

I covered Petal's eyes and pointed it out to Banjo, Ben and Mat. Ben said he loved pies. Mat said it was disgusting to charge for a knife and fork. Only Banjo saw the real problem.

Couldn't wait to point the disaster out to the Colonel when we got to school. I thought he would be totally embarrassed and downhearted, but he just wriggled his bushy eyebrows and looked astonished.

‘Good heavens!' he cried. ‘It's just like the Great Zoological Disaster during the Pacific Crossing of 1978. Ship was filled with exotic animals from the deepest, darkest depths of the Amazon rainforest. Fringe-faced toucans. Ridge-
backed sloths. Feathered armadillos. Rainbow alligators. Gold-winged monkeys. Would have made marvellous zoo specimens. But the ship's doctor got hungry and ate them all for a Thanksgiving banquet before we reached New Zealand. Nothing I could do about it of course. Just had to grin and bear it … Stiff upper lip … No point getting my knickers in a knot!'

The Colonel disappeared into the office. I suppose he was ordering a new lot of pigeons. He's not easily discouraged!

Had an email from Miss McKenzie this afternoon. She loved
The Bake Tribulation
and said she was very proud of Ben, Mat and me for producing such an amazing newspaper. Her dad, Angus, had laughed so much when he read it that the neighbours came in to see what all the fuss was about.
They
had laughed so much that they had to sit down and have a cup of tea before they could walk home again.