The Half Man Half Woman

Beauty OR Burden? You Decide!, originally uploaded by Ampersand Duck.

Or Otherwise Known as The Monster Elegant. He OR She? You Decide! Beauty or Burden? You Decide!

please take your seats now, ledies & gentlmun, originally uploaded by Ampersand Duck.

This was our first of many glam hostesses in the Tiny Top. This one, however, transformed into...

The Woodford Files: 2

The Tiny Top, originally uploaded by Ampersand Duck.

This is where I spent a lot of my time, The Tiny Top. It was a very small venue, as it's name suggests, which was most refreshing after venues packed with hundreds of people.

The Tiny Top had little 15-minute shows ('all-natural acts') every half hour from about 4 in the afternoon. It held no more than 50 people, most of whom would have to stand at the back behind the seats. You would have to line up outside in a roped-off area for 15 minutes while they stood on the stage and regailed you with jokes, songs and general loudspeaker spruiking, and then you were let in for whatever show was slated on the blackboard. After 15 minutes of excellent entertainment, you were let out to either wander off and find something else to do, or line up again for another 15 minutes of al fresco entertainment until the next snippet of exotica. Most of the people performing would do longer shows in other venues through the festival, so it was like a very intimate sampler. We went so much that they would treat us as part of the act outside. I think of the 12 varieties of act offered, I only missed 4. Examples of their acts follow above...

The Woodford Files: 1

yes, we are there now., originally uploaded by Ampersand Duck.

We woke at dawn's crack on Boxing day to get a decent camping spot at Woodford (only a 40 minute drive from my girlfriend's house in Redcliffe) and still had to camp a full 5 minute's walk from the gates. I heard today of someone who had to park their caravan over a km from the festival site. It was an enormous festival this year.

Note the car in the background (SubyRuby), which is the only photo I've managed to take of it since it was painted by a Canberra graffiti artist (Byrd). We gave him the cans of paint, he got to have a play on a clean 'canvas' and also got to keep the rest of the paint. Now everywhere we go people wave at us. All good, everyone happy.

Anyway, this is the point of arrival when Bumblebee was whinging, Best Beloved was being grumpily industrious setting up the tent, and I was still recovering from hospital, so I spent my time trying to amuse them both, but it was hard as the scene was so much like the camping days of my childhood! I eventually SMSed my dad, and described the scene, to which he replied 'Bliss'. I think he was happy that it was my turn to go through it...

We had a terrific spot under a tree which managed to shade all the important bits of the tent at the right times of the day. We are all very grateful to that tree, and tried to demonstrate some gratitude by sponsoring some more trees for future campers. BB said this site used to be just open paddock, so the trees are really making a difference.

Home again, home again, jiggety jig

I love driving down the highway from Sydney, coming around the bend and seeing the Brindabellas snuggling around Canberra, with Telstra-yama sitting in the centre. The Brindies never fail to put on a show, whether it's mid-morning or sunset.

There's no place like home. There's no place like home. The bed smells right. The shower-gush is perfect. The toilet smells familiar. The roar of Summernats in the background reminds me that it's January, and I'm home, a block away from the action. No need to give any kind of comment about Summernats, as crazybrave, in her inimitable way, has done a ripper of a job. Suffice to say that as Best Beloved and I drove down Northbourne Ave past the showground, we got cheers from the onlookers for the fact that we have a painted car. Hooray! I don't think I've shared the car with you yet; the sad fact is that I haven't bothered to take a good shot of it yet, but I do have a photo of it from Woodford, which I'll mount in a mo.

Have you worked out that I'm happy to be here? Even having buckets of work to finish isn't worrying me now that I'm dust-free (only on my body; my house is constantly protected by a fine layer of dust, and if I remove it I'm sure something dire will happen. Well, that's my excuse anyway.)

Kyogling around

Having survived Woodford, I am now near hot and sweaty Kyogle, minding my niece and nephew while my sister and brother-in-law attend a Buddhist teaching at the local Gonpa. The reason I was avoiding the H word in the last entry was because everyone at Woodford gets highly offended when the word 'Hippy' is mentioned in any and every write-up of the festival. Mind you, the woman drifting through the Chai tent wearing nothing but a reversed loin cloth and bit of feather and horns did a lot to dispell the hippy image (What's wrong with her bottom? S said; I asked why, and he replied that it was the only bit of her that she felt the need to cover). She certainly attracted a fair bit of attention.

So here I am, sweating from every pore, even though I've been to the pool and seen a movie in air-con today. We're waiting for a thunderstorm to hit. The clouds are there, we can feel the tension, now hopefully will come the rain. Meanwhile we suck on a few cold beers and play endless games of Karum (sp?), an extremely addictive Indian board game a bit like finger snooker.

I've finally stopped bleeding! Hooray, feeling human again, and for those who give a shit, we've finally managed to consumate our marriage.(Too much information, I know, but we have been married for almost 2 months, and it does make a difference!)

Stay tuned -- this weekend I get home and I can offload my camera (unless one of us accidentally deletes everything). Happy days, y'all.

Woodford without the H word

Hello from sunny, happy, hot, throbbing and not to forget dusty Woodford! I have ten minutes left of my internet cafe time, after checking my bank account to make sure we haven't given every dollar we have to the various tsunami funds and can afford petrol for the drive home, plus checked my webmail which is completely constipated with letterpress webgroup daily digests...

Before I forget: HAPPY NEW YEAR. I have high hopes for this year. I think everyone else here is just hoping they are high. It is the biggest Woodford ever, which isn't necessarily a good thing. Last year it was a record attendance for New Year's Eve, and this year, every day has the same numbers, except last night, which had double again. No venue was big enough, no toilet unoccupied, and the queues abounded. And why the hell aren't there twice as many women's toilets as mens? Huge queues for girls, when obviously the men can pop behind the tents and water a tree. Makes me want to emulate Bronwyn Bishop and learn to piss upright (but that's the only thing she does that is worthy of emulation!)

Woops, three minutes left according to the Cafe Frau, and I haven't even mentioned the wealth of talent I've seen. Actually, I'e taken lots of photies, so I will blog a stack of reviews on my return on the 8th. Highlights: Vince Jones, The Kransky Sisters, The Tiny Top, and Martin Pearson and John Thompson's breakfast show. I'm in heaven.

My health is improving. I haven't stopped bleeding yet, but the cramping has gone and the flow slowed until I'm feeling like there's an end in sight. I've done no dancing but a lot of laughing.

have to go.
PS The H word is Hippy.