Red Dirt Diary 2 (13 page)
Authors: Katrina Nannestad
Great advice!
Rang Mat to congratulate her, but she wouldn't talk. Miss McKenzie and James were there for dinner and she didn't want to miss out on
anything
.
Just when I think that girl has grown a brain it vanishes once more â¦
Saturday, 24 February
Miss McKenzie is a traitor!
I can barely believe it.
I overheard Mum, Dad, Miss McKenzie and James talking about Mrs Whittington.
Mrs Whittington can't live alone because of her Alzheimer's. When James marries Miss McKenzie and takes her away from Hardbake Plains, Mrs Whittington will be all alone. Her son, Bob, will send her back to the nursing home and she hates it there. She just wants to be at home, where the sun is hot and the plains stretch out for miles ⦠Where she can have her own chooks and vegie patch ⦠Where she can cook
her own meals and choose which clothes to wear â even if they
are
bathers and gumboots ⦠Where everyone loves her and accepts her as she is ⦠Where she BELONGS.
But Miss McKenzie has other plans.
I heard her saying something about a
home
and
relocating
.
And I heard Mum and Dad agree.
Worst of all, I heard James say, âSuper! That's a jolly good idea.'
Everyone is talking about James and Miss McKenzie and all the love. What about showing Mrs Whittington some love? Isn't love looking after people? Taking care of them? Doing what is BEST for them???
Sunday, 25 February
Miss McKenzie isn't a traitor after all. She's a genius!
Dad, James and Mr Murphy spent the day building a chicken coop at the back of the shearers' cottage. Mum and Miss McKenzie cleaned inside the cottage and painted the kitchen bright yellow. They painted the front door blue and changed the sign on the wall so it no longer says Serenity Cottage. It's now called Magpie's Rest. Just like Mrs Whittington's house.
Mrs Whittington is moving to Hillrose Poo! The idea is to make her new home as similar to her old home as possible. That way she might not get so confused with the change. Tomorrow all her furniture and stuff will be moved in. Her chooks will be brought to the identical chicken coop. Miss McKenzie will even live there until she gets married!
The only problem is that our house will be where the school usually sits, but Mum said we will help Mrs Whittington cope with that somehow or other.
She won't be able to stay here forever. Her Alzheimer's
will
get worse. But until then, us Westons will gladly keep an eye on her!
Now
that
is love.
Monday, 26 February
Miss McKenzie and Mrs Whittington are here at Hillrose Poo, living in Magpie's Rest! James, Mum and Dad moved their things over today.
Mrs Whittington doesn't seem to mind the change. She fed her chooks and locked them up after dinner. Then she sat in a rocking chair on her veranda and had a lovely chat with Gertrude, Doris and Mildred. She didn't even seem to think
there was anything out of place when âUgly, Ugly, Ugly World' by Festering Punks was blasted across the plains and Gerty started banging her head against the wall.
James gave everyone farewell presents tonight. He drives back to Sydney in the morning. He gave Mum a Beethoven CD, which she can't ever play because Gerty would go psycho, and gave Dad a silk tie. Wes and Fez got a DVD called
Circus Blitz
â a new Australian circus that James has done some legal work for. Mum slipped it between the dictionary and the Bible on the bookshelf when she thought no-one was looking.
James gave me a silver heart-shaped photo frame.
Who does he think I am? Matilda Jane the Bridesmaid?
Tuesday, 27 February
Wes and Fez were up early this morning. They made cups of tea and about twelve pieces of toast for James. Wes made James's bed while Fez polished his shoes. Then they stood side by side on the driveway, waving like little angels, as he drove away. It was terrifying.
But the minute James was gone, Wes said a lot of
very
bad words that I would not even write. Fez ripped his tie off and trampled it in the dirt. He took the pens out of his shirt pocket and snapped them in half one by one. He pulled Grandpa Weston's glasses off and threw them at Doris.
I
knew
the twin tornadoes couldn't keep up the goody-two-shoes act!
Fez said there was no point in being well behaved. It was boring as boogers and people still didn't make you into bridesmaids. Wes said Fez was a sissy pink-pants and that boys got made into pageboys not bridesmaids. Fez said they were both too stupid to get made into
anything
for Miss McKenzie's wedding and Wes had a stinky poo brain and an ugly maggot face. Then they started hitting and kicking each other and rolling around in the dust.
Mrs Whittington stood on the veranda of Magpie's Rest and yelled, âGet on in to school you naughty little boys!'
Wes and Fez spent half the school day wearing tea cosies on their heads, chasing kids around the yard and whacking them with Sam's giant zucchinis. They spent the other half of the
day in detention writing apology letters to Mr Cluff for calling him a wombat's bum and to Miss McKenzie for calling her a freckle-faced chook.
What a relief! It is just
so good
to have the real Wes and Fez back.
Wednesday, 28 February
Mat showed me a very disturbing Love Mechanic letter today.
Dear Love Mechanic,
I am madly in love with a girl at my school. She is in year seven, is really smart and has red hair. Some kids say her face looks like it is covered in fly spots, but I adore her freckles. They make her nose look like it's been kissed by hundreds of fairies.
She does not know that I am in love with her. I am only in year five. Should I tell her my feelings or should I suffer in silence?
Yours sincerely,
Poet in Agony
Oh man! Banjo is such a doofus.
And who says my face looks like it's covered in fly spots???
I made Mat promise not to use it for this week's Love Mechanic column.
The Flying Ferals found the
Circus Blitz
DVD this afternoon. It fell out of its hiding spot in the bookshelf when Fez grabbed the dictionary to hit Wes over the head. They spent hours watching it with Mrs Whittington.
Fez kept replaying this freaky section with a contortionist. First the contortionist slipped his whole body through a tennis racket by dislocating his arms and hips and becoming all rubbery. Then he stuck his legs behind his head (yucko!) and squeezed into a little glass box.
Mrs Whittington sat on the lounge, clutching a steamed golden syrup pudding to her chest. I think she had brought it over for Worms, then forgot about it when she couldn't find him. She took it home with her three hours later. Bummer.
Thursday, 1 March
This morning when Petal and I went out to collect the eggs before school, Gunther was lying on his back as the bunnies hopped all over his belly. He was making a weird sneezing sound which I think might have been laughter. Macka stood nearby and gurgled happily. So cute!
Thought I'd better face Banjo about the Love Mechanic letter today. He said it wasn't him, but I pointed out that he is the only poet in year five. So then he said he loves me. I told him it was probably just indigestion.
I think we both felt better after our little chat. Maybe I'm getting better at understanding love.
Fez got a tennis racket stuck around his shoulders at lunch time. He had to wear it all
afternoon until Mr Ferris arrived with his angle grinder and cut it off.
Friday, 2 March
This morning when Petal and I went out to collect the eggs before school, Wes was stuck in one of the nesting boxes! He was scrunched up in a little ball with his knees around his ears and his chin squished down on his chest. His eyes were popping out of his head. Fez was laughing his guts out.
Dad had to pull the front off the nesting box before Wes could get out and go to school.
Got a bit of a shock when I read the school newsletter this afternoon:
Dear Love Mechanic,
I am madly in love with a girl at my school. She is in year seven, is really smart and has red hair and freckles.
I have confessed my love to her, but she says it is probably just indigestion. What should I do?
Yours sincerely,
Poet in Agony
The reply was:
Dear Poet in Agony,
Love is a complicated and beautiful thing. Indigestion, on the other hand, is a complicated and ugly thing. It is important that you learn to recognise the difference between the two. Do you burp a lot and have a burning feeling in your tummy? Then it is probably indigestion. Do you sigh a lot and have a burning feeling in your heart? Then it is probably love.
If it is love, bad luck. There's
no way
a year seven girl would fall in love with a little year five boy. That would just be lame. But great poets often write about broken hearts, so suck it up and get writing.
Yours sincerely,
The Love Mechanic
Oh brother!
Saturday, 3 March
Fez got the wooden toilet seat from the old pit dunny stuck around his shoulders today. Wes was laughing so much as he sawed him free that he cut Fez's ear.
Mum bandaged him up and told him he looked like Vincent Van Gogh. Now Wes and Fez
think Vincent Van Gogh was a famous contortionist who cut off his ear so that he could fit into small places more easily.
Later on I heard them discussing cutting Wes's arms and legs off so that he could fit into the pigs' slops bucket. Nice!
Sunday, 4 March
Wes got his legs stuck behind his head this morning. He was rolling around on the grass in a tangled ball. Macka ran around him gurgling merrily. Fez offered to cut Wes's ears off so that his legs could slip forward again, but Mum wouldn't let him. Fez said it wasn't fair â Vincent Van Gogh's mother would have let him do it!
It took Mum and Miss McKenzie a quarter of an hour to get Wes unstuck without dislocating his hips.
I spent the afternoon helping Mrs Whittington sort out her wedding dress, pearls and veil. The wedding dress is so old that the sleeves are falling off and it's yellow around the hem. Mrs Whittington was quite upset that she couldn't
find her bouquet, so I made one from lavender and geraniums. It looked pretty scruffy but she was happy.
She sat in her rocking chair for the rest of the day, holding the flowers and explaining to Gertrude, Doris and Mildred what their bridesmaid duties are.
I told Mum. She said Mrs Whittington is getting a bit confused by all the talk about Miss McKenzie's wedding.
Join the club!
I wonder if Gerty can do the bridesmaid's walk better than me â¦
Monday, 5 March
Looks like Banjo listened to the Love Mechanic. Found this stuck to my computer screen when I arrived at school:
My words of love are spoken
But now my heart is broken.
It's bleeding like a scab that has been picked off before the sore is ready to heal.
How miserable I feel.
Wow! Intense!
And what happened in the middle there? If Banjo is going to write feral poems about love, they should at least have a decent rhythm.
Showed Mat. She sighed and said, âHow romantic.'
I don't think there's
anything
romantic about picking scabs until they bleed. But what would I know?
There were piles of sand and gravel and pavers all over the back yard when we got home. By the time dinner was ready, Wes, Fez and I had paved a full patio underneath the tree house. It looks great.
Tuesday, 6 March
Fez stayed home today. He got stuck in the blanket drawer in the bottom of his wardrobe before school and we had to leave before Mum could get him out.
This was taped to my computer screen when I arrived at school:
My heart is shrinking
Like an apple in the sun,
Like an overdried apricot,
Like a dehydrated plum.
I think someone's
brain
is shrinking â¦
Mrs Whittington was sitting on a deck chair under the peppercorn tree, when we got home. Mum said she'd been watching Gunther and his bunnies all afternoon.
When I brought Mrs Whittington a cup of tea, she said Gunther was the biggest, ugliest rabbit she had ever seen. I had to agree.
Wednesday, 7 March
This was stuck to my computer screen today:
My love is weak.
It used to be strong.
It's fading fast.
It can't go on.
My heart is empty.
My head is sore.
I don't want to
Love you no more.
What a relief! Maybe the Poet in Agony will turn back into good old Banjo by the end of the term.
Maybe he'll even sort his grammar out!
Then I'll just have Matilda Jane the Over-enthusiastic Bridesmaid and Miss McKenzie the Mush-Brained Bride-To-Be to deal with.
Mush-Brain McKenzie reminded Mat and me at recess that there are ONLY TWENTY-FOUR DAYS UNTIL THE WEDDING!!
Mat is ecstatic and spent her entire maths session emailing every online student she knows with the thrilling news. Warren from Warren emailed back with a little heart that danced across the screen. Mat nearly fainted with joy.
Ben stuck his finger down his throat at
exactly
the same time as me. Synchronised chundering! How cool was that?!!
Thursday, 8 March
Banjo is back to normal.
Just like that!
He sat next to me on the bus this morning and talked about Sam Wotherspoon's giant golden squash like nothing had ever happened.
I was a bit offended actually. How can he love me so much one minute and then not at all the next? Must be a shrinking heart or dried apricots or something.
Hope it's nothing to do with the fly spots on my nose â¦
Harry and Davo have sewn an enormous amount of material together for Harry's hot air balloon. They spread it out on the grass today and it reached halfway across the soccer field. Amazing.
Friday, 9 March
School newsletter day â the Love Mechanic strikes again:
Dear Love Mechanic,
There's this girl at my school called Lynette. You know how when people really don't like someone they say they hate their guts? Well I like Lynette so much that I
love
her guts. I want to get a tattoo on my arm that says I LOVE LYNETTE'S GUTS, but I'm not sure whether to have it written in a heart or a pile of guts. Which one is the most sensible?
Yours sincerely,
Tattoo Boy
The reply was:
Dear Tattoo Boy,
You can't say you love someone's guts. That's just gross. And it's totally stupid.
Besides, this girl Lynette sounds like she comes from a lovely family who probably hate tattoos. Why don't you just leave her alone and go get a maggot tattooed on your bum.
Yours sincerely,
The Love Mechanic
Mrs Whittington brought Gunther a steamed golden syrup pudding this afternoon. She placed it in front of him and said, âLovely essay, darling. The bush is the heart of our beautiful country. Well done.'
She sat on the grass and played with the baby bunnies while Gunther scoffed down the pudding.
Gunther doesn't usually let anyone near his baby bunnies, except for Uncle Macka the alpaca.
Saturday, 10 March â Wedding
Working Bee
Mrs Clarissa Welsh-Pearson is here and she is staying in my bedroom!
She arrived at 8.30 am and had Macka's green goop dripping down her cheek by 8.31 am. She was not amused.
She didn't see the funny side of Wes running around with the toilet seat wedged over his shoulders and a bucket stuck over his head either, and it really
was
funny. Especially when he ran into the clothesline and knocked himself over.
The Sweeneys arrived at nine with Princess Lynette and Princess Matilda Jane.
By three o'clock, Mrs WP and Mrs Sweeney had ripped up our paving under the tree house and painted the chook shed, the old pit dunny and the laundry white. Dad and Mr Sweeney
had paved little paths all over the back yard. Miss McKenzie and I had cleaned the veranda and pruned the rosemary. Mat and Lynette had fluttered their eyelids so much that all of their eyelashes had fallen out. And Mrs Whittington had fed Gertrude, Mildred and Doris the sponge cake, the scones and the raspberry coconut slice that Mum had baked for afternoon tea.
Thankfully, Miss McKenzie took Mrs WP to Hardbake Plains Pub for dinner tonight.
Mrs Whittington ate with us. She spent the whole evening talking about how excited she was about her engagement to Harold. Harold is her husband who died nine years ago.
Sunday, 11 March
Clarissa Welsh-Pearson and Sunshine got on like a house on fire last night. Mrs WP says Sunshine is a charming gentleman! Sunshine is the grumpiest old toad this side of the Black Stump.
