Errrrrkkkkk...

Yeah, as you can tell, I'm having a busy week. More Mary Gilmore layout than you can poke a stick at (and really PAINFUL; she's in a very didactically evangelical stage at the moment, c. 1928), plenty of child drama (Bumblebee's been getting in a few fights at school and his schoolwork's been slipping badly, but it's really hard to get the school to support our attempts to do anything about it), and a desperate need to blog about Patrick White on my part but I have no mental energy and time to do it. The only blogging action I've been getting is random commenting forays onto other blogs in between other tasks.

One good thing I have done since Tuesday is get another haircut. REALLY short, this time. I believe it is called a short crop, a-la Natalie Portman (but without the stunning bone structure).



It probably makes me look a bit scary, but I've given up caring, which I think is probably one of the privileges of maturing. And now I have no hair dye left, which was a major objective. Whatever I do with my hair from hereon in, will be lightly but proudly be flecked with grey.

I am sagging under the weight of all my work commitments (including being told that I may be working every. single. day. of the 06/07 Woodford Folk Festival, teaching bookarts to both adults and children) and can't see any kind of break until early January, not even a full weekend.

BUT! Tomorrow I am declaring a work-free day, complete with sleep-in and picnic in the park. For tomorrow is my birthday, dear readers, and I am damn well going to have a eenie-mini-break. It won't be computer-free, because tomorrow night I will be hosting a friend and her son for a sleepover, and while the kids romp and bicker we are going to brainstorm and tweak a new blog venture called Slow Making with lashings of red wine. If you are a slow maker, or like Ms Maker's concept, get in contact and join in. Or pass the word on about the blog.

I shouldn't complain so much -- BB cooked me a wonderful meal of slow-roasted pork hocks in plums tonight. It was amazing. So I'm tired but extremely well-fed, and I have been desperately trying both to get to the gym and to ride my bike lots so that I don't get sedentary and ill. It seems to be working.

Anyhoo, I'm off to bed; I just thought I'd sneal in a quick whinge while Best Beloved had a quick bath, but he's in bed now making little 'harrumph' noises. He has a point: the sooner I get to sleep, the more I can sleep in.

And saw Tibet: have a good weekend yourselves.

Space Oddities

Zoe and Teejmahal and I had a leddy's wager on the oddest book we could find at the recent Lifeline Book Fair. Personally, I think Teej won, with Zoe's a close second (having glimpsed it at point of purchase, she hasn't blogged it yet), but I'll show you mine because it/they are still lots of fun.

I say it/they because I'm displaying a few oddities, none of which are the sort of thing you squeal over, but each of which deserve a snigger. I couldn't bring it down to just one.

1. Where's Charles and Di?



Well, we know exactly where they are now, but back then nobody was really sure. The odd thing is, I'd have thought this was a royal wedding cash-in from 1981, but it was actually printed in 1992, when all was going awry! Very strange timing. Gotta love the banded warning on the top right corner: WARNING! SATIRE/PARODY! THIS IS NOT A WALDO/WALLY BOOK. I don't know why the concern. There's not a rude bit in sight. And no Camillas lurking in the corners as far as I can make out. Shame. She could have been dressed in yellow and black stripes on every page.

2. How to Survive an Attack



Not a crocodile attack, or even a stingray attack, but a (start quaking) spiritual attack. With chapters like 'How to recognise an attack' and 'How to go through an attack', this is one self-inducedhelp book you cannot live without. Best Beloved was very pleased when I brought this home. It will sit on the shelf next to his Chick tracts and books about snake-handlers and babblers-in-tongue.

3. Wake up Australia



Indeed. Off your arses and down a mine! Classic gems of sage advice from the man who chose to marry Rose Porteous Hancock. The introduction says it all:

Are Australians grateful to Lang Hancock? That is a subject of profound indifference to him. He does what he thinks is right. He usually is.

But, true to LH, he has to say more anyway:

The time to cash in on nuclear mining is now when we cn be at the head of the queue and whilst the spoils to the victor are greatest. There is no prize for dragging the chain in this fiercely competitive world.

If we are prepared to jump into the nuclear age immediately, there is no reason why the Pilbara in Western Australia could not become the "Ruhr of Suth-East Asia". With the build-up in economic strength Australia would be strong enough to defend itself. The raw materials are here. What is lacking is leadership, guts and foresight.

That was written in 1979. Could have read it in the Australian last weekend, don't you think? What further proof do you need that the Howard govt is dragging us back twenty-five years? I'd say this book is on a few Liberal Party bookshelves.

Actually, that wasn't much of a snigger, was it? Try this one:

4. Meat. Every Which Way.



Published by the Australian Meat & Livestock Corporation (no date, but I'm pretty sure early 80s), I think this was the precurser to the 'Feed your Man Meat' campaign. From the look of that butcher, he's getting something every which way. I'm sure this is the closest you'd get in visual terms to Cutbush the Grocer from The Vivisector.

With subchapters like 'Beef: Moist Heat Cooking', 'Lamb: Meat with Care', 'Good-looking Cooking' and 'Cooking Economically with Meat Using Appliances', this book* is a weird mix of recipes, advice, drawings from the 1880s and 'fresh' images like this one:



Tell me what you think that boy is thinking. I've got my own ideas, but I'd love to hear yours.



*Which will probably join Zoe's cookbook collection (if she wants it!)

Proud mother moment

Watch my man Bumblebee get down with his homies at lunchtime today in front of the junior school. Watch with pride as his friend uses him as a springboard and feel the awe of the junior school (B etc got the only 'wooor' for the whole dance).

Ignore my giggle. He may dance like a white boy, but he has heart.

Gosh darn it

The title is a nicer version of what BB and I said this morning when we woke to the cold hard fact that we'd forgotten to watch or tape Dr Who last night! We couldn't believe our stupidity! We were even been watching the box over dinner at the right time, but we obviously switched our brains off decided to finish Series 4 of West Wing (we've been working very slowly through it and it suddenly got very exciting) with pizza and beer after a hard afternoon's gardening and Mary Gilmore-ing.

DOH!

Can anyone lend us a copy on video or DVD which we promise on our honour we'll return?

A day at the fair

There's no way I could sit at home today and work, knowing that less than a km from my desk was a hall full of books going cheep! cheep! cheep!

Mama Duck answered the call.

I give generously to Lifeline twice a year because it's such a good idea. You give money to the charity, and take home books! I'd give money to ANY charity who can do this as well as Lifeline do, but I also think their service is an essential one. Onya Lifeline.

There's a ritual to the Lifeline Fair that has to be maintained:



1. Thou must line up before it starts. If you turn up later in the day, you can just stroll in and all sense of TEH HUNT is lost. You may show that you are seasoned veteran by bringing a stool, a hat, and a thermos of hot beverage. [The arrows above indicate, by their size, the direction of the queue winding its way around the EPIC carpark. I've also indicated a seasoned person, who hasn't yet become a true veteran for she forgot her hat. I am usually in the middle of the queue, but thanks to a few prior commitments had to join the end of it, ten minutes before the doors opened. Phew.]



Eventually you get within view of Xanadu.

2. Thou must bring a book-carrying receptacle. This can be a trolley, a rolling suitcase, or, dear god, a pram carrying a child who is happy to be squashed.



Sorry for the awful quality of the shot. I just pointed and clicked, not wanting to waste good book-scouting time. This next one is clearer but smaller, taken last year on the 2nd or 3rd day:



3. Thou must not run into the hall screeching and drooling. This is very uncool and must be left to the Military History nuts.

4. Thou must fully interact with power games. These include: finding out who of two people on the same side of the table but moving in different directions has to go around whom; who gets to pick up that book if you both reach for it; who can be closest to the person laying out a fresh batch of books.

HIGHLIGHTS

Some years I notice themes. One year (and I think every year) the place was overrun by Bryce Courtaney. This year, in the Biog section, anyway, there was a plague of Frank McCourt. Look:



and again, further down on the same table:



There are three types of FMcC books in that second photo. It's like an easy version of Where's Wally.


In the Australian fiction section (there's a few, you have to be canny to find all the good books) I ran into a Friend of the Duck who is an academic at one of Canberra's unis and has a shared love of odd books. Snaps to him for giving me the hardback first edition of The Vivisector on the spot when I drooled at it (my paperback copy has fallen to bits with this rereading). Together we found an entire shelf's worth of hardback Nevil Shute, not first edition, but all with the most glorious dustjackets, $5 each. If he hadn't wanted them I would have taken two or three, but I'm glad he did because it would have been heartbreaking to separate such a beautiful collection:



Five of the piles on this trolley are Nevils. Sigh.

Speaking of collections, there was a new section of ephemera, and look what I saw:



They were selling someone's entire matchbox collection for $100. And, I suspect, the same person's beer coaster collection:




THE HAUL

So, this is what I got today.

Children's
-- various Star Wars teen novels, comics and a puzzle book for Bumblebee
-- various other comics for BB, like Mad and Casper, etc.
-- various puzzle/novel books (where you have to work out stuff to get to the next chapter)
-- The photographic storybook of the movie Return to Oz, something I just can't find anymore even on ex-rental video.
-- Winnie in Winter by Korky Paul & Valerie Thomas (love that witch)
-- The Two Old Bachelors by Edward Lear, illustrated by Paul Galdone
-- Witch Week by Diana Wynne-Jones (already had it, but this can be my lending copy)

Art
-- Prints from Blocks, Riva Castleman
-- Japanese Prints, Celia Whitford
-- Charles Blackman, Ray Mathew

Books on Books
-- The Gutenberg Revolution, John Man
-- Pocket Pal, associated pulp & paper mills (this one intrigued me, because it was produced in Melbourne for an American company but all the photos are of Canberra)

Australian
This was a goldmine today. These are all hardback unless specified.
-- Southern Steel, Dymphna Cusack
-- Heatwave in Berlin, Dymphna Cusack (already have, but this has gorgeous dustjacket)
-- Grand Days, Frank Moorehouse
-- The Eye of the Storm, Patrick White (1st edn with dustjacket $8)
-- The Vivisector, Patrick White (1st edn, $9)
-- Shantaram, Gregory David Roberts
-- Model Wife: My Life with Norman Lindsay, Rose Lindsay
-- Come in Spinner, Dymphna Cusack & Florence James (original, edited version)
-- The Battlers, Kylie Tennant
-- Tell Morning This, Kylie Tennant
-- I can Jump Puddles, Alan Marshall
-- Larger than Life, Xavier Herbert (1st edn with dustjacket, VERY good nick, $7!)
-- Daphne & Chloe, trans & illus. by Jack Lindsay

Poetry
Very thin selection this time. Bit disappointing. And no sign of She Vomits Like a Lady.
-- Collectd Poems, CP Cavafy
-- woops, forgot to add Australian Poetry 1948, edited by Judith Wright

Other
-- The Penguin Dictionary of Historical Slang
-- One-Upmanship by Stephen Potter

and two dying hardback Georgette Heyers in need of makeovers: Devil's Cub and Spring Muslin. I might start a shelf series!

Enough already. Teej has suggested a competition to see who can buy the weirdest book, but I didn't get the challenge until I'd come home with this lot. So I shall go back on Sunday, when everything is further discounted (!) and all the tasteful books have been kindly removed and taken to good homes by caring people and see what wonders remain. Maybe we should have a Sunday arvo blogmeet at the fair?

Remember to breathe

In. out. in. out. Try to remember the quietness of sunset.

It's been one of those weeks, compounded by the fact that everything I tried to do at bookbinding today went askew and afterwards I walked through the shops and realised that there's nothing I like in fashion this season. Skinny jeans. Dropped waists. Nothing for fat legs and drooped breasts.

And I just have to say that as much as I love our Auntie, today was one of the best JJJ listening experiences I've ever had. All the music and none of the teen surfie-worshipping blokey (yes, even the females) matey Strine I hear the obviously unteenage DJs using that makes my eyelids twitch. There. That's all I have to say on that point.

To finish on a reasonably fun note, check out the lovely people of Tyrrell Partners (an accountancy firm, not the winery) and wonder why they even bothered to put a 'favorite book' section in their staff profile.

Back to Mary Gilmore and trying to get Bumblebee to see the bright side of life (more on that when I can think clearer).

In. out. in. out. in. out.

Book Lover alert

I've just found out that the next LifeLine Book Fair starts on Friday!

Book Lovers, start your engines.



If I see this book AGAIN, I'm going to buy it.