Jamie rang late yesterday afternoon to invite us to dinner. Nera had announced during the afternoon that she felt like having guests so put a general invitation up on Facebook aimed at people who play Bingo with her. Bingo is a great thing with the filipina community and they meet regularly. Nera is lucky and wins more often than she loses. Her mother, who is with them at the moment, is an old-fashioned Christian lady and frowns on any kind of gambling but her grumbling doesn't stop Nera from having the occasional game. Nera asked Jamie to ring us to make sure that we were aware that the dinner was on.
We had nothing else to do and we accepted. The weather was reasonable and Nera asked Jamie to put up their portable pool so she could have a splash around but, by the time we arrived at their house, a cold front had hit and the air was freezing. It was too late to dismantle the pool so it stayed there, reminding everyone how unpredictable Tasmanian weather can be and how unwise it is have expectations.
Nera's bingo friends are mostly Filipina but many are married to Australian men who gather together at these functions to talk about things that really matter - like football. One fellow last night wanted to have a whinge about Climate Change which he thinks is exaggerated. He admits he doesn't understand it but that doesn't stop him from having an opinion.
I don't know how many turned up but there were lots of kids and they take up more room than adults. Nera had cooked a large piece of snapper she had in the freezer, lots of kebabs - beef, pork and chicken - and there was the usual rice and salad. Everyone ate well and there was not much left.
Unfortunately, one family arrived late and Jamie had to make a quick trip to the local shop for a barbecued chicken. It amazes me that Nera and Jamie make open invitations on-line, nobody accepts but still turn up, they all bring kids and rarely does anybody bring food. I can't imagine how anyone could be expected to cater in that situation, but it seems to work.
It was a very good night but we found it a bit cold to be sitting around the garden. Most of the others of our age also retreated to the lounge-room and, of course, all the kids did the same. Other people's kids are never as well-behaved as your own.
I'm getting through the expectations of my on-line course in Writing Fiction. There are a couple of hundred people doing it and they are expected to post samples of their writing regularly as well as comments on other people's work. I'm not sure how I feel about that; I'm a bit precious about my writing and only want people to applaud. I'm not comfortable with criticism.
Today's exercise was to turn on the radio and write up to 500 words about the first thing that was said. We had to focus on characters rather than incidents. Several people turned on the radio and heard a song so some of their characters are a bit odd. One girl, apparently, is writing about love on an elevator. I wonder what song that was. Not having a radio, I turned on the TV and heard the news about the bushfires. My character is Trevor, a reluctant firefighter, who believes that he has the soul of a poet but finds himself in the guise of man of action. My 500 words came surprisingly easily.
We had nothing else to do and we accepted. The weather was reasonable and Nera asked Jamie to put up their portable pool so she could have a splash around but, by the time we arrived at their house, a cold front had hit and the air was freezing. It was too late to dismantle the pool so it stayed there, reminding everyone how unpredictable Tasmanian weather can be and how unwise it is have expectations.
Nera's bingo friends are mostly Filipina but many are married to Australian men who gather together at these functions to talk about things that really matter - like football. One fellow last night wanted to have a whinge about Climate Change which he thinks is exaggerated. He admits he doesn't understand it but that doesn't stop him from having an opinion.
I don't know how many turned up but there were lots of kids and they take up more room than adults. Nera had cooked a large piece of snapper she had in the freezer, lots of kebabs - beef, pork and chicken - and there was the usual rice and salad. Everyone ate well and there was not much left.
Unfortunately, one family arrived late and Jamie had to make a quick trip to the local shop for a barbecued chicken. It amazes me that Nera and Jamie make open invitations on-line, nobody accepts but still turn up, they all bring kids and rarely does anybody bring food. I can't imagine how anyone could be expected to cater in that situation, but it seems to work.
It was a very good night but we found it a bit cold to be sitting around the garden. Most of the others of our age also retreated to the lounge-room and, of course, all the kids did the same. Other people's kids are never as well-behaved as your own.
I'm getting through the expectations of my on-line course in Writing Fiction. There are a couple of hundred people doing it and they are expected to post samples of their writing regularly as well as comments on other people's work. I'm not sure how I feel about that; I'm a bit precious about my writing and only want people to applaud. I'm not comfortable with criticism.
Today's exercise was to turn on the radio and write up to 500 words about the first thing that was said. We had to focus on characters rather than incidents. Several people turned on the radio and heard a song so some of their characters are a bit odd. One girl, apparently, is writing about love on an elevator. I wonder what song that was. Not having a radio, I turned on the TV and heard the news about the bushfires. My character is Trevor, a reluctant firefighter, who believes that he has the soul of a poet but finds himself in the guise of man of action. My 500 words came surprisingly easily.
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