Monthly Archives: June 2013

Eight males



I’m still rehashing blog posts – what with the yucky stuff and block exams for my youngest son David I’ve not been in the head space to write. Also I’ve just received word from a literary agent  – she doesn’t want me. I am so sick of not being wanted by anyone. I have one shot left that I know of. Penguin do an open slather thing in October – so I can pitch my Star Makers Trilogy to them.

Anyway this post was originally written in March 2013 and concerns my son Adam – who lives in Brisbane. Since then David has been moving ahead in leaps and bounds with his band In Embers. Much of what I say below about Adam and Sevenskies applies to David and In Embers. Anyone who wants to listen to In Embers can do so on this link – I warn you it’ll blow your ears off!

So back in time to March 2013…

I’m late with my blog post on account of having eight; yes EIGHT males in my house on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. I’m not complaining it was lovely because one of the eight was my son Adam – remember Buddy the rescue dog came into our lives to fill the gap when Adam moved to Brisbane.

 As I write five of the eight are safely back in Brisbane. My son’s band Sevenskies was on tour with three other bands all travelling around the country. They met up with a local band, so Cairns received a massive injection of Death Metal/ Heavy Metal. It had been a long time since any shows had been played in Cairns. All the bands have moved south because Cairns is so out of the way – but the thing is with Cairns – the kids  are so starved of this type of underground stuff the reception was mind blowing. The headline band travelled from Melbourne and Cairns kids welcomed them with open arms. Their gigs continue down the coast.

There are a lot of these types of gigs – All ages, drug and alcohol free – but none happening in Cairns at the moment for followers of this type of music. My other son, David, had one of the best weekends – he had his brother to stay – he met yet more metal heads, had a gig to go to and was able to ‘MOSH’ (I’ll explain in a minute) interrupted only by the need to turn up at work on Sunday – which he did albeit a bit sore.

Moshing is a verb used to describe the action of going berserk to the music. The Mosh pit is the area where one is allowed to mosh. No moshing is allowed outside this area. The remainder of the room is to be used for only for sitting and standing and appreciating the music and the moshing. It’s very much like the stuff I used to do with the punk bands back in the early ‘80’s but I’m not allowed to say that. I’m too old and it’s absolutely inconceivable that I could ever have stood in area close to a band and gone berserk!

David summed it all up and said, “Moshing is the best way to deal with shit.” I do know what he means. To dance like you have never danced before, to put yourself into a trance-like state where only you and nothing else exists, to transport yourself out of the everyday, out of the mundane to transcend into an elevated state of conscious awareness – I know what he means.

The same thing happens all over the world in many cultures where the beat of the drums stirs something deep within us, as human beings. It is visceral, elemental and powerful.

So having five young men to stay in my house who were going to help transport a bunch of local kids into a state of ecstasy all without drugs and alcohol has got to be a good thing. Those five young men were all so appreciate of having a room to sleep in with beds instead of the hard floors they had endured on the drive up the coast. A couple of home cooked meals thrown in instead of Macca’s were a welcome bonus.

Being in a band is hard work, they all hold down jobs or are at Uni and have to fund this themselves which they do by designing their own t-shirts, Mosh pants and hoodies and selling the merchandise at gigs. They pay to record in studios, pay someone else to do production and someone else to do graphics and organise their own online sales outlets.

So I support these five, fine young men because I see them doing everything they can possibly do to fullfill their dreams. They absolutely deserve any and all the success that comes their way. There are so many lessons in life happening in this process (that many people would see as a waste of time because they haven’t got a, proper job).

What I see is a skill set being built, learning to deal with people, learning to organise time and resources, managing car and truck hire, venue hire, the list goes on. I’m proud to be the mother of the lead guitarist; I’m humbled by their energy, drive and determination. I’m glad I had the privilege of looking after them.

I now wish to add that my heart is full to bursting after watching In Embers at Redlynch Rocks on Friday 7th June. The energy these guys send out just blew me away. The same valuable lessons are being learned. In Embers pay at JCU Kaleidoscope on Saturday 22nd June – I’ll be there too cheering them on.


Surely it can’t get any worse…


Story Bridge

Story Bridge – Brisbane.

Image credit – Eduardo MC.


I first had this blog published in the “500 word ABC open project. I thought I’d put it up here because I’m a bit behind with new stuff. Something came out of left field and it rather took the wind out of my sails so reading this reminded me of just how far I’ve come. It was not an auspicious start but I know my story is by no means unique – it’s just my story.

I’d come to Brisbane with my husband and fifteen month old baby; we arrived Saturday 17th October 1991 – it was 33 degrees Celsius, which was a bit of a shock to a Pom.

 We’d come to Australia to see if we liked it. My husband applied to work as a locum doctor – the first three months would involve night work as a mobile GP in Brisbane. After that he’d be offered daytime work in General Practice, then regional Queensland.

 It all sounded very nice…

 First disaster after getting over the shock of the heat and Brisbane Airport shed – the agency had forgotten us. Our planned pick-up didn’t happen. Imagine being jet-lagged, lost, forgotten – no mobile phones and when finally able to get through to the agency being put through to the answer machine. There was absolutely nothing we could do. We didn’t have any family or friends in Brisbane; we were relying on this agency to do what they had promised. It was the agency who booked the flights on our behalf so they knew when we were due to arrive.

 I learned the Aussie phrase, “She’ll be right,” meant nothing of the sort!

 Eventually we were picked up and taken to a car hire place near Breakfast Creek. I loved that name: it conjured up some wonderful images for me. However it was the only wonderful thing about that whole day. They hadn’t been told we would have a baby with us so were unable to provide a child safety seat! The reason we had to get a hire car was because all of the agency’s fleet cars were in use and ours was being repaired and wouldn’t be ready for a few more days.

 I hope you are beginning to feel the dread. I am actually suffering as I right this post – it is the first time I’ve told this story and as I write I am shaking and feeling tearful. Remember we had no one to help us – only the agency.

 The fear was growing exponentially. If any harm came to me it was okay – but not my baby.

 We had to drive with our baby and no car seat to our accommodation – given a map and pointed in the right direction. As we set off we realized the petrol gauge was low. At the garage the young pump attendant noticed we didn’t have a car seat. She was incredulous when we told her the tale. She directed us to the nearest mall.

 The only food the agency had provided for us when we got to our unit was a small jar of coffee, tea bags a small carton of milk, a loaf of bread and some margarine.

 By now it was Saturday afternoon and we had to go shopping – but can anyone remember what happened to the shops in Brisbane – indeed Queensland – in 1991 on a Saturday afternoon – THEY CLOSED. We eventually found a ‘Franklins’ store and persuaded management to let us run round quickly to stock up for a couple of days.

 After leaving Brisbane and working in regional Queensland things improved dramatically. This locum agency closed down or went out of business – I don’t know and I don’t care. What I do care about is eventually arriving in Cairns, meeting kind people who befriended us, took pity on us and helped. They helped so much we came back in 1995 and have been here ever since.