Flower Day

In a pond, near the old waterfall, lived a beautiful Hibiscus plant.

Every year the Hibiscus would drop her pink flowers into the pond.
This began the celebration of Flower day.

A long held tradition by the drops of water that lived in the pond.

"It's here it's here," Little Drop excitedly said.

All the water drops gathered and they marveled at the elegance of the first flower to fall.

"This Hibiscus flower feels so smooth and silky of my skin," Clear Drop said.

"We don't have skin," Intelligent Drop replied.

Achoo, achoo, sneezed Little Drop, "My sinuses are all blocked up, from the pollen,"

"Who cares," said Wet Drop, splashing into all the other drops.

"Hey, you know when you said we should try something wild," Water Drop said.

"Yes," Dew Drop answered.
"I think riding a Hibiscus down a water fall is just asking for trouble," Water Drop continued.


So the adventure begins, as the water drops celebrated their flower day.

A promise kept.

Coming into land, the little Cessna, bounced roughly over the arid airstrip.
It had been 6 years since the cattle station had seen rain.

"Gday Jack," Kelton said
"Gday Kel," Jack answered, handing him the mail sack.
"Is it in there?" Kelton asked.
Jack nodded his head.

Kelton Dunn had lived and worked on Arnela Cattle Station all his life. It had been in his family for generations.

Jilly was an old lady now and she had lived a full life.
Her memories as strong as the day they had happened.
The day she married Henry, the years they worked side by side and the day he died.
Her children, all 6 of them. Kelton, Flynn, Henry, Charlotte, Meredith and Lillian.
Jilly also remembered the promise she made with her sister, they both would live to be 100 in honour of their grandmother. Emily didn't get the chance to keep her promise, taken in the floods of '76.

Jilly held the parcel in her old worn hands.
She had waited along time for this. Now it had arrived it didn't seem to matter as much.
What mattered were the smiling faces that surrounded her.

The day of Jilly's funeral, her children open and read what arrived in that parcel.
They hugged and comforted each other as tears fell on the royal paper were The Queen of England had signed her name.


Read More:  http://imaginifbusiness.blogspot.com/2010/05/expressed-to-rwandra.html

Red Dirt

  
I saw a man dance, in the dark of night.

His feet kicking up dust to the unique sound of the clapping sticks.
His body molded in poise as he told his dreamtime story.
He is the custodian of this land.

I wanted to place my hand on his chest and soak in his existence.
He had captivated my heart and I didn't want to let go.

My imagination ran wildly through the memories I have of this rugged and beautiful place.
The vast contrasts that change from a loving hug to a murderous scream in a blink of an eye.
This place, my land. 

I saw him walking towards the bush and I ran after him.
I followed behind him for many hours and then finally he stopped and turned to me.
"Show me my Dreamtime?" I asked him.
He bent down and scooped up a handful of red dirt and poured it into my hand.
"This is your Dreamtime Wadgela," He said

I wanted to seize that moment. Hold it for ever in my hand and forever in my mind. I rubbed the red dirt over my sweaty face and felt a pride of belonging.
He turned and began to walk away. I ran after him and he turned back to face me.
I opened my mouth to speak and he put his hand up and stopped me.
He took his hand and wiped some of the paint off his chest and he smeared my face with it.
"Biyanga," I said, "Take me with you?"
He shook his head and I watched him walk away.

This place is my heart and the red dirt is my blood.
I remember when I saw a man dance, in the dark of night.


Read More: http://imaginifbusiness.blogspot.com/2010/05/painted-men.html

News Time

Good Evening, I'm Julie Grossman and welcome to the 6 o'clock news.

First tonight.

Henri Emily Godwin, a renowned chef at the Blue Hands Cafe, died yesterday after a 6 year battle with breast cancer. Henri was surrounded by her family and leaves behind 3 children, Lillian, Eli and Brenton.

Local residence have rallied around the popular cafe in a show of support and this photo was captured sitting in the kitchen where Henri cooked.

The funeral with take place on Friday.


Read More: http://imaginifbusiness.blogspot.com/2010/05/udderly-handy-cow.html

Stardust

Have you ever wondered why you attract certain things into your life?
I have ponder that thought my entire existence and I understand the whole concept now. It brings to the mind the saying, If I had the knowledge I have now, when I was...Yes hindsight, a wonderful invention.


Animal's have a sixth sense. I have seen this for myself several times. But what fascinates me is that animals are drawn to me and always have been. I'm not talking about the type of being drawn to, if you sit down with a nice bucket of hot chips and you get swamped by a flock of seagulls. No this is more profound.


A few years ago I was part of a muster in rounding up about one hundred wild horses. Once the horses had been yarded I over heard a conversation between two blokes about a rogue horse. Rogue horses are meant to be very dangerous and untamable.
I didn't know which horse they were talking about, but I presumed it was in the herd we had just yarded. It had been decided that the rogue horse through no fault of his own would be shot.


I was walking among the herd, and had noticed this lovely bay horse following me. He was tall at least 16hands. He was a very rich bay colour with black markings up to his knees and with black mane and tail. He was striking. I had already envisioned galloping along the plains on him.


"Jul's," I heard Bob scream at me "Don't move,"
Why, I thought.
Then the bay snorted and reared.
What the heck is going on, I said to myself.
The bay continued to snort and stamp his hooves down with a sharp thud. I knew something was upsetting the bay, but what?


I heard someone say to me "Walk slowly backwards,"
Why!
I looked over my shoulder and saw the two guys that had been talking about the rogue horse. It was then I made the connection. The bay was the rogue horse.
The two shooter guys had a rifle and were going to shoot him right there, right then.
I stood staring at the bay, throwing himself around wildly. Trying to intimidate the shooters. He reared and lunged forward, gnashing his teeth. All the while I just couldn't help but think how amazing this horse was.


One of the shooters yelled at me.
"Get out of the fucking way you useless bitch," I was in his line of fire.
I flashed him a look. He tried to justify himself.
"We have to shoot the mad bastard he's gonna kill someone and if you don't get yourself out of there it might be you," In the use of his word 'We', I noticed how shooter number one had made it about being on sides. The shooters side or the rogue killer horses side.


I turned to face the shooters, leaving my back exposed to the killer horse. The shooters screamed and gestured, but no, I was not going to let them shoot him.
I told the shooters to fuck off, I told them to give me a day with the killer horse and if I couldn't ride him they could shoot him.


Smiling to themselves thinking I was a useless bitch they left.


I turned back to the bay and said "You heard that. Stop your mucking about or you'll be the dog's dinner tonight," The bay settled and took a few steps towards me. He sniffed me and then nuzzled into my arm.
I walked away and he followed.


Word spread quickly that I was going to ride the rogue horse. Before to long an audience had appeared. They had come to pay their last respects. I wasn't sure to who? Me or the rogue horse.


One year later I was back at the same place doing the same thing, bringing in a herd of wild horses. The horse I rode was tall with a long lopping gait. He worked effortlessly. It was a pleasure to ride him.
He was a striking bay colour with black marking. His name was Stardust. The rogue horse had turned out to be one of the most well trained and successfully shown horses I ever owned. In fact he was the most popular choice for riders at my riding school.


When given the freedom to choose animals seek out those of us who they know to be pure of heart. Many of the animals that I have had the pleasure of knowing in my life seeked me out. The unseen sixth sense. So who is attracting whom to them? Is it us or the animals.
Either way our lives are enriched.

Me on Stardust

Read More: http://imaginifbusiness.blogspot.com/2010/05/kittens-play.html

Spit Chasey

The beautiful tropics in the dry season. The days are warm but not hot. It's just a perfect time of year and what better time of the year could there be to play spit chasey. No it's not what you think, well it is actually, but we justified it by also using water melon seeds.


The rules were simple, spit on someone and if a water melon seed stuck to them, they were it.
You start as a circle in the middle of the yard. The person who is it, said go and they had to run to the water melon take a bite and then find and chase the rest of us, spitting as you go.
Of course as in all hunting adventures, the weakest animal becomes the target and because I was the youngest, guess who got spat on the most?
As Mum would tuck me into bed at night, she could never figure out how so many water melon seeds ended up stuck in my hair.


It was a childhood game, that as siblings, the 5 of us shared. As mature adults, when we get together and eat water melon we calmly spit the seeds on the ground. Yer right, we run around like children spitting at each other. Sent back in time to rekindle the bond that hold us together. The only difference is my brothers have become very good hockers.


Yes, water melon in the tropics, awesome time of year.

Read More: http://imaginifbusiness.blogspot.com/2010/05/say-no-neeve-cope.html

Cure...well the bloody hell are ya!!

"It's a conspiracy you know. They have a cure for cancer, but because they can make more money in pretending not to have found a cure, millions of innocent people are left with shattered lives." My Dad told us.

If I get my hands on them bastards that have kept this secret, well my army training might come in handy. Dad tried to comfort me, but I wouldn't let him. If I knew then that in 9 months time he would take his own life, I would have wrapped my arms around his neck and never let go.

I couldn't help believe in what Dad was saying. They can send a man to the moon, but can't find the miracle cure. Bullshit.

Angry, bitter, hell yes, and don't even get me started on the God thingy. No no, lets, God is almighty and powerful, He created all things. That includes cancer. Now I was told that God wanted my Mum in Heaven with Him. Just slap me in the face again why don't you! God is a selfish being. He can stop cancer and every other bad thing in this world in less than a blink of an eye. But no, He doesn't, Why? Because God has a point to prove. Yes that's right and with whom? Satan of course. Now remember God created everything and that includes Satan.
So, yes, God can stop this at any time He likes and how many have died because God has an ego?

It had only been 2 days since cancer took my Mum. Give me that fucking cancer, cos I'm gonna belt the living shit out of it. I was inconsolable. I didn't eat, I didn't sleep. I just walked in and out of the room Mum had died in. I laid on the bed where she took her last breathe. I could smell her, but more over I could hear how she repeatedly gasped for air. Her lungs dead.

So, do not tell me that God wanted my Mum more than me and do not tell me that my Mum is in a better place. Because God knew I need my Mum and the best place for my Mum was right here on Earth with us kids.

Time doesn't heal the wound, it only reminds me of how many days it has been since I heard my Mum's voice. The empty hole left in my heart is wide open and cancer put it there.

Raise your hand if you have ever thought about giving your own life so that someone you love could survive. Darn wish I had more arms. I would give my life if given the ultimatum...my life for the cure. It's a no brainer.

My heart sinks when I see all the beautiful people that are or have been effected by this atrocious monster. I become passionately angry. Give us the cure, you selfish pricks.

I feel scared for those of us left behind. So where is that miracle cure? Stop the dying. Stop it now!

More money is needed. Donate what you can. Every politician take a 5% pay cut.

In 2 weeks time, it will be the 3rd year since my Mum lost her brave battle with cancer.
I still want to run and hide, but I solider on. With all my fears and emotions and yes my very opinionated opinions. I do it and I do it for my Mum. Still Love you Mum and forever will.

I give what I can, when I can and I hope that it helps.


More Reading: Vitamin B17/ Amygdalin http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amygdalin
or Laetrile http://www.b17.com.au/default.asp

See also: http://imaginifbusiness.blogspot.com/2010/05/know-your-symbolism-when-public.html

Chalet Red Tree

There was a note stuck in Michelle's front door.
It simple declared, I am in love with you. Lets meet at Chalet Red Tree. Say 7pm.



Michelle quickly looked around waiting for that...you're on candid camera...But nothing. She re read the note. The paper was crisp and had a slight perfume to it. The calligraphy was perfect.
Michelle began to blush, who would love me...she thought...I'm just some girl from the country, who likes horses and red wine.


Michelle re read the note for a 3rd time. Meet at 7pm...what tonight? Michelle questioned.
Michelle felt bemused, someones got to be having a laugh, she giggled to herself. Then a grip of fear knotted in her stomach. Oh god it could be some stalker or disgruntled person I pissed off, or it could be some homophobes. Michelle let her mind run wild with every reason that seemed rational as to why it was best not to go.

Michelle gave way to doubting that she was beautifully and inspiring. How her laugh filled others with joy and completeness. Her caring and warm smile lightening the dull day of many passerby. That Michelle was passionate and genuine. Her honesty and integrity pulled others into her safe fold. Why wouldn't some one fall in love with her?


Feeling foolish and embarrassed that someone had played such a cruel joke, Michelle resided to the fact that a night in was much better. Not wanting to face the possibility that it was true. Not wanting to face the possibility that she was worthy of being loved.


The old clock on the mantle struck 7 and with a deafening dong snapped Michelle into a mad panic. What if this is the only chance I ever have to be loved and I'm sitting here eating cheerios. Michelle anxiously thought.
Cruel joke or not, Michelle needed to know. For years she put it out there to beloved and suddenly realised she couldn't slap the universe in the face.

Michelle bolted out the door and ran to her car. It would take at least 20 minutes to drive to the Chalet Red Tree. Then as if on cue a flash of lights reflected in the revision mirror. Fuck. It was the Police.
The officer asked "And were are you off to in such a hurry?"
Michelle fumbled for an answer.
The officer again "Are you alright Miss?"
Michelle said "Yes, Why?"
The officer replied "Its just you don't seemed dressed to be going out anywhere"
It was then Michelle noticed she was wearing her pyjamas.
Feeling her cheeks turn red, Michelle said "I'm ok, really I am".


Putting the speeding ticket in her pocket, Michelle continued on.
It was now 7:45. The note writer would not of waited this long. Stood up, the note writer has probably gone home. Feeling silly for coming, Michelle hesitated. Fiddling with her pyjamas, Michelle tried to gain some sort of composure. It was abit late for that, she thought.


Walking into the bar Michelle looked for anyone she knew, but no face she recognised.
Yep the note writer had gone. Michelle thankfully said to herself.
Plonking herself on a bar stool the bar attendant looked amused.
Smiling and giggling at the same time, Michelle said "Just one of those day".
Agreeing the bar attendant nodded.


Michelle hung her head. I was right, a cruel joke, she said to herself.
"Elmo, I like Elmo." A voice from behind commented being directed at the patten on Michelle's Pj's.
I know that voice Michelle confirmed to herself.
Michelle turned and smiled. Then said "I was hoping it was you."


Read more: http://imaginifbusiness.blogspot.com/2010/05/power-of-two.html

Boots...what boots

I must clean those boots, there's mud and manure all over them. Ha...when have I ever cleaned my boots. They are my favorite foot wear. I feel the most comfortable in boots. In fact I have owned at least one pair of boots no matter were I have been. My first pair of boots were the boot and caliper I wore as a kid. My second pair was a long black lace up pair, very sexy and a little provocative for a 11yr old. Experimental phase.
Then came the gumboots and the horse riding boots, Western Boots and Motorbike boots. I had army issue lace up with steel caps from the surplus store (these boots were definitely my favorites.) Then my black going out boots, very feminine and gorgeous. I think I had them resoled about 4 times. Red Bull boots, Blue dog boots, Rossi boots, Black butt boots and of course my R.M. Williams Bushman boots. Long, short, zip up, lace up, elastic side I have owned them all.  

Read More: http://imaginifbusiness.blogspot.com/2010/05/boots-and-all.html

I was just a little girl

I saw a picture today that has rocked me to my core.

Her innocence bloomed and I felt scared.

Scared for a little girl I once knew and was lost.

I have wept with intense being for the pain I know she went through.

For the fear she felt and the shame she bore.

I have seen her stare down the barrel of death and then be flung into the arms of life.

I tried to protect her and shield her from the bad.

But her tiny soft hand slipped through my grip.

A beautiful blonde baby girl, all grown up now.

I hug her with warmth and love. I smile when I see her.

For she brings such joy into my life.