When outside and inside is all inside.

sleep pink

I simply can not quieten my mind.

No matter what I do, or what I tell myself; the whirling, twirling, tangle of thinking just keeps rolling through like a train that has zoomed nonstop through all stations.

I guess it is the hyper adrenalin residue of a term of teaching, but it just seems like a massive waste of limited vacation time. And that thought doesn’t help in anyway!

It would be tolerable if there was a attaching burst of energy, but there isn’t. I am exhausted.  I try to sleep, but the head is on busy business. Damn.

The Big Whatever is playing games with me, I just know it.

Do you ever think you sabotage yourself?


I believe I threw a challenge out to the Big Whatever last night, when I declared I was going to sleep in. Despite ensuring the alarm was definitely switched to the off position, and checking it twice, I woke not long before dawn. Dawn!

That was it. My brain snapped into activity. Still wondering how to adapt an ICT coding unit for 10 learning support students (in one class!) who have numeracy and literacy levels equal to a year one (some less!) A couple are do not report students, meaning they don’t get A,B,C…E, but rather just comments about what they did and achieved, but they still need to be included in all acitivities. Luckily, next term, I will have a Learning Officer (current term for school aide) to assist with the class, but they are high support students – 10 in  a class of 14! Luckily it is a far smaller class than usual. My other ICT class has 24 students, only two are learning support.

No best solution there, but then my mind just wandered my inner world. Up and down, over there and back here. It didn’t help that Augie Dog slept by the side of my bed the entire time. Not only slept, but snored! He didn’t move until I sat on the side of  my bed and placed my feet beside his nose! He was to his feet in an instant. A shake of his fluffy golden retriever body and he was ready for his Saturday. I wish I was!

Wondering out to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, I flicked on the morning news. More terrorist attacks. Then, I heard President Obama burst into song, singing Amazing Grace at the service for Clementa Pinckney. It brought tears to my eyes. Such a simple, but powerful moment. A gift to see a leader with humanity, a rarity in Australia these days.

On the plus side, I am still in my pyjamas. I shall cling to them like as to a life saver today.The good thing about vacation is that there is always time to nap.  And Augie? Same activity, different position. Asleep, beside my chair. It’s a dog’s life.

The Birthday Adventure

young us

Mission accomplished. We treated my sister to lunch in Toowoomba, in a restaurant where she has not been before. She even enjoyed a glass of wine, which is really letting her hair down as far as Sister is concerned!

Then, it was on a movie. Purchasing the tickets I had to smile as I asked for “Two seniors, and an adult ticket please.” I was the adult, which is a worry at the best of times!

middle us

We went to the Pixar movie, Inside Out, which we thoroughly enjoyed. I don’t think it will connect all that well with children, but from an “adult’s” point of view it is a timely reminder that life has both sadness and joy, and it is what we make of it that is the fabric of our lives.

So much excitement! We were exhausted by the time we dropped Sister back to her house – at 4pm! Talk about rocking the high life!

old glam


world domination is neigh

… one Flamingo Dancer at a time.

FD baby

The April Bride, Daughter2 , is currently, as described by Mr FD, our Gestation Unit. A new little person is due to join our family in late December! Petite Fille will have a cousin!

Not quite a honeymoon baby, more a slightly pre-honeymoon baby. We estimate D2 was about 2 weeks pregnant on their wedding day, which might account for why I had to expend so much effort into buttoning her into her wedding dress (no so much baby, as baby fluid bloat!)

This wee one will have the Flamingo Dancer surname, as baby’s Daddy has taken our surname. Nice timing too, well not for the baby having to have a Christmas birthday, but for moi – I will be on school holidays and so able to travel to Perth for the impending event!

So, my evilosity will spread through the generations, to eventually reach total world domination. One baby at a time. Slow but sure!

Happy Days.

walk a day in my shoes

bob hair

Put my tunic on backwards this morning, and considered leaving it so, as we are all declaring we are going backwards at the school instead of forwards lately!

On the way to school I was followed by a motorcycle cop who gave me a side glance (!), saw a hot air balloon sailing in the sky and thought, I would never want to do that, and was accompanied by two wood ducks into the school grounds.

“And remember Mrs Flamingo Dancer loves you!” I said to the retreating backs of my home class.

“Oh Miss you are so sweet” she said.

“Sweet like a peanut butter sandwich!” he answered.

I am sweet like a peanut butter sandwich! High sugar content peanut butter obviously.


Why do they make “slippery when wet” signs so lightweight that a gust of wind knocks them down? Meaning I have walk across the slippery surface to reposition the sign?


“Don’t you love the nice feeling after you do a dump?” he said.

“Mate, the Librarian is standing right behind you.”


“Miss, I cut my butt on the heater at the weekend.”


Can no one replace a chair under the table?


Today I had two classes to supervise simultaneously. One was the senior physics class and the other, the work skills students. The physics kids filled whiteboards with equations. The career kids discussed a porn king and took selfies.

Once again I had to explain to a female student why she should not use the c*** word because she didn’t understand that she was calling herself inferior by calling another person by a slang word for a female body part. Be still my feminist heart.

The local paper has been including parts of a life size poster of a NRL player (football not soccer) in the paper each day. Minerva was insistent that I remember to rescue the third in the series today. I did. It was a poster of his team shorts clad groin. Can imagine the talk in his club locker room today. I know what it was like around the library!


The Archbishop came to visit. I greeted him as he entered the library. He ignored me. He-ignored-me!  One can only surmise that he is deaf as well as stupid. We were invited to take tea with him after school. I had other things to do … like get on with the rest of my life.

Home : a hot dog with balsamic onions, cheese and bacon, and a moscow mule in a tall tumbler to drink.


a hair’s breath


Mr FD was redoing our household budget. He lives in a fantasy world where he likes to torture himself.

“You go to the hairdresser every three or four months, right?” This from the man who complains every time I go about the cost, though it is at least a hundred dollars less than what I was paying in the city. Another benefit of country life!

His fantasy was obviously a deep one. “Try every five or six weeks.” I replied.  My hair is of the type that is extremely thick and grows like a weed. What else would you expect from moi? The stylist always gets excited when I appear as she knows she can work off her anger, or stress by thinning my hair to her heart’s content!

Some weeks post Daughter2’s wedding, I was now free to change hair styles. I was so tired of feeling like an unkept sheep dog, that I practically camped out on the salon door step that last morning.

I have opted for a short style. I gave up the dye bottle a couple of year back – oh my, such a sense of liberation. So think elegant, pixie, layered. The shorter style actually showed that there is dark hair still remaining, quite a bit at the back. My sister commented that I looked like I had grey highlights over dark hair. The front is very grey, it was where the process started first. The reflection in the mirror is Nature’s way of forcing us to face our ageing process. If our hair greyed at the back first, we would live in sweet denial a little longer and maybe not do those important things we need to do before it is too late. I just didn’t need the reminder at age thirty two!

It wasn’t far into the style change before I was ecstatic. I also experienced more liberation. I am sure angels sang Alleluia and an ethereal glow burst forth!

Since then, I have had numerous compliments, from staff and students, not just my ever loving sister! I especially like the one where they tell me it makes me look years younger.

own kind

Mr FD however, did not notice. Well, only when I forced my head between his laptop screen and his face. His comment? “Why did it cost   more that usual?” He was still working on his fantasy budget.


The moon in June and other blues

winter socks

June arrived with a shiver. We have been living foggy, 4C dawns. Rising at 5am is never a thrill, but there is no potential for joy on a cold, dark, winter’s morning. Mr FD stokes the fire before he retires for the night and the last couple of mornings I have risen to a not so harsh 17C within our double cavity brick home. Yeah for brick and wood!

Yesterday, as I drove down the hill, I was gifted a view of the setting moon, just above the horizon. So elegant, so silent. I carried the joy until I saw the first student walk into the library.

Minerva and I had a deep conversation about how physically and emotionally exhausting the present crop of students are to work with. Minerva has been at the school over ten years, and so has more experience with the demographic, but the narcissism and sense of entitlement that we are battered with each day is just wearing us all down. One teacher who has been at the school 17 years  and elsewhere before that, has declared one year level the worst in her long career.

I started writing report comments this week. You know, those things that we send to parents where we aren’t allowed to tell any truths. As frustrating as it is, spending hours to choose sentences from a small, restricted comment bank that never suits the student in need of the comment, it does mean that semester break is only three weeks away.

winter break

Two weeks winter vacation. No plans, no commitments. I shall stay in my pjs the entire time (I have multiple pairs, I will shower and change), except for when visiting Petite Fille.

Long weekend approaching. Invite to a first birthday party for the wee baby born prematurely last year. She has passed all her milestones and is a glorious little girl, now crawling (chronological age 12 months, but she was born three months early). Petite Fille will be attending as a cousin. If their Mummies are first cousins, what does that make the little girls? Third cousins? First cousins twice removed; though that is more an American description, I think? Playmates? Friends. Mates.

The most pressing thought is what does one wear to a First Birthday party? Machine washable?

birthday fashion