Why is the Empire State Building flashing green and gold? It's Australia Day!

Hello all!

I feel sorry for the New Yorkers who might wonder why the Empire State Building is doing strange things. Green and gold? Huh? Well, if you missed it on the news, the city of New York, not for the first time, lights up the Empire State Building in Australia's national colours* as Down Under it is Australia Day.

'King Kong's got nothin' on me! I'm Wolverine!!'

Why wouldn't Julie Bishop be grinning from ear to ear?

There was a small window between tennis matches as the Australian Open is slogging its way across three channels, so I had a peek at the news last night between matches and I saw a very pretty sight as the lever was pulled--the flashing green and gold looked bright and breezy, Julie Bishop, our indefatigable Foreign Minister looked cool as a cucumber in her cream coat, but who could outshine that Aussie hunk Hugh Jackman, aka Wolverine, who was indeed a pretty sight...but hey, back to Nadal!!  

As a little aside, Hugh Jackman told the American audience that out of a country of 20,000,000, there are 1,000,000 Aussies who visit New York each year (travelling is an Aussie pastime) and most of them end up on his couch. Always up for a bit of a wisecrack, but that sounded about right when it comes to Aussie hospitality. Who wouldn't mind ending up on Hugh's couch?

So, every country has its special day. What is Australia Day? We are definitely not the world's greatest patriots, but we love our country, fair enuff...Well, we are the country of the LONG WEEKEND, so that's a lot to love, but our special day is more than just an excuse to crack open the barbie and the beer and throw on the prawns and snags (sausages, bangers, whatever...) and dodge the sizzling fat in the sizzling heat. And smirk when you see that Australia still practises segregation--only men allowed at the cooking source!

With a little help from Wikipedia, and to satisfy the insatiable curiosity of Hilary Melton-Butcher, I can tell you that Australia Day is the official national day of Australia celebrated on January 26 to mark the anniversary of the 1788 arrival of the First Fleet of British ships at Port Jackson (Sydney) in New South Wales. (Australia was then known as New Holland). Of course, not everyone was happy to see white Europeans arrive. Our indigenous people call it 'Invasion Day'. There's a great cartoon depicting Australian Aborigines watching the First Fleet arrive, saying 'I've got a bad feeling about this.'

In modern Australia, the celebrations over the long weekend reflect our diverse society and the landscape of our nation. There is a frenzy of street parties, community events, community awards and citizenship ceremonies welcoming new immigrants into the community. If you saw Hugh Jackman on television as he turned on the lights of the ESB, he said that his wife was up for the highest award Australia gives--the Australian of the Year award, for her charity work.

So you can see what I'll be up to this weekend, this long weekend. No, I won't be croc wrestling. But I did get pink tips in my hair! Not at all patriotic! Aha, but Monday is a public holiday. Then I'm back to work for the year on Tuesday.

BLOGFEED: For those of you who've been complaining about my post feeds not showing up, I think the problem has now been overcome. But you'll have to delete your old feed for Denise Covey and add my new URL: http://dencovey.blogspot.com 

Let me know how it goes. Your country usually adds your country code at the end.

Thanks for your patience. I hope I'm back in business, otherwise I'll give up blogging and that would be a wrench!

* Why green and gold? For Hilary as she convalesces from her hip operation and needs more reading matter:

Long associated with Australian sporting achievements, the national colours have strong environmental connections. Gold conjures images of Australia’s beaches, mineral wealth, grain harvests and the fleece of Australian wool. Green evokes the forests, eucalyptus trees and pastures of the Australian landscape. 

• How about you? How's your year shaping up?
• What is your country's national celebration?

Write...Edit...Publish challenge - CHANGING FACES. My story set in the Australian Outback.

Hi everyone!

If you're looking for my UNDERRATED blogfest entry, it's been relegated to second place.

It's time for the Write...Edit...Publish challenge again. This month is CHANGING FACES, a wide-open challenge. I've chosen to re-post a story I wrote for #FridayFlash a couple of years ago. Everyone seemed to enjoy it, so I thought I'd let it do double duty as I'm having a very busy month.

It's a story about the Queensland outback which I linked to in my recent post on Richard Hughes' blog. If you actually followed the link and read my story, I apologise.

I've added some images of Australia for you.

Indigenous Australians are not only the most profoundly disadvantaged group in Australian society, but the most discriminated against. There are some references in this story you may not get, but suffice to say in Colonial Australia, Aboriginals were often referred to as 'Jacky Jacky' and Aboriginals used to wryly call themselves 'King George' after the English king at this time. Of course, Indigenous Australians ran rings around whites when it came to surviving the outback.

A Thirst Before Dying

Aboriginal Rock Art

You don’t want me to stay with you then?

No. I’d prefer to be alone.

I could stay until…

No, it’s best for you to leave now, see if you can find a way out of this god-forsaken place.

Look, there might be water just over that ridge. I’ll go and come back with some as soon as I find it.

Don’t worry about me mate. I’m done for. Listen to me croaking. Let’s invent our own bush lore – every man for himself, none of this laying down your life for your mate…

I’ll feel bad…

Rubbish mate. Just go and let me get on with it. You’d be a silly bugger to stay here and rot. You’ve got a chance. Take it. You know I haven’t got a snowflake’s chance in hell of surviving. It's as hot as hell here. I can feel myself cooking from the inside out.

But…

Go, you ugly bastard. And get that woeful look off your face. I don’t want you here. Get on with it. At least one of us silly buggers will survive.

Look, it’s my fault. I was the one who got us lost. I really thought I knew where I was going...

Turns out you didn’t, but we aren’t the first and we won’t be the last to be tricked by the Australian bush, mate. You know that. We broke every rule in the book--leaving the car, not enough water, then I went and broke my bloody leg to boot. That ends it for me. No chance of me getting out of here now. Think about it. I'm right...Go!

***

I woke to the pain throbbing through my busted leg. I rolled over, took a deep breath then looked down. The leg didn't seem to belong to me.

I was astounded to see how fat it’d gotten while I drowsed. Nothing I could do, so I just lay there, trying to will myself to feel nothing even though the sun was now directly overhead, frying me like an egg on a car bonnet.

How will it feel to die of thirst?

I once read about an old salt who survived nearly seven days in the Arizona desert without water. Well, I’d been about three days and I knew I wasn’t about to break Mr Valencia’s record.

I ran my tongue around my mouth, felt saliva as thick as paste. My tongue clung to my teeth and the roof of my mouth. I felt like I had a golf ball in my throat. My head and neck throbbed like I'd been hit with a golf club!

At least it’s taking my mind off the pain in my leg.

My face felt like a full moon and my skin was like thin crackly parchment when I touched it with my shaking fingers. I knew before too long I’d be a raving lunatic. I’d start hallucinating. I didn’t want to be around when that happened.

It was a toss up between pain and thirst. Which would kill me?

***

I’d fallen to my side while I slept. I didn’t want to die lolling like some old abandoned guy in a nursing home. With a few grunts and groans I managed to heave myself up a little and prop my back against the red sandy rock.

The dry valley lay spread before me, shimmering in the heat. I could swear I saw water but I knew that was a mirage.  The reds and ochres of the steep gorges soothed me, taking my mind off the possibilites of that inland sea.

I’ve always loved this country, especially the outback. Unforgiving though. Only the tough survive. Better add smart to that. Not smart to get lost, break down, then run out of water, you useless clot.

I thought of old Herb. I hoped he’d been smart enough to find some water by now or he’d be propping up a rock too, or eating sand.

***

My eyes were just slits, but I noticed a pair of wedge-tailed eagles merge with the red rock, flying between the harsh blue sky and the ochre cliffs like children at play while the sun kept vigil like a protective parent.

It was a sinister brutal world out here. I hereby name you ‘Tarrangaua’. I smiled to myself, feeling like King George. I knew that meant ‘rough red hill’ in Aborigine. Smart arse!

A thick pain pushed up against my chest. There was a whooshing in my ears. Here comes the deafness...

But I could hear a crunching sound reverberating around my head. I swear the rock I was leaning on shook, so I must have reached the hallucinating stage. Didn't even need a pill! I grinned what I knew was a terrible grin, feeling my gums and teeth protruding like some zombie's. My face would be unrecognizable if anyone ever found me.

‘What are you doin’ sittin’ here in the sun you silly bugger? Hardly Bondi Beach, you bum.’

Looming over me looking like the Grim Reaper I could just make him out with the bright sun behind him. All I could really see was a wobbly outline of a face. I blinked and the face morphed into one as black as the ace of spades with a beard as white as snow all under a black Akubra hat with silver studs that glinted in the sun, hurting my eyes.

‘Ouch! Jacky Jacky?’ I croaked. 

Every Australian knows an Aboriginal tracker is called Jacky Jacky, even a city slicker like me.

‘No mate, not Jacky Jacky. I’m Mr Theodore White, but who’s askin’? Looks like you could use some help and quick before you turn into one tough piece of steak.’

‘Hey, I’m King George,’ I said only half-joking. Who am I? 

‘That's my line. He died long ago mate. You don’t wanna be him.’

He lowered himself close to my face, cradled my head in his great black arms and let me take a few sips from his coolamon (water canteen).

I tried to touch his hat just to prove he was no hallucination, but it was out of reach.

The water felt real enough. Its coolness was the most beautiful thing.

‘That’s enough King George. Only a drop at a time or it’ll kill ya.’

I tried not to cry like a baby when he took the bottle away.

‘Found ya old mate,’ he said, as he began tending my leg with the deft moves of ancient Aboriginal lore guiding his hands.

‘What? Who?’ I rasped. Then I remembered old Herb.

‘The other poor bugger you musta been with. He was roasting in the sand in the dry riverbed. Musta gone to sleep thinkin’ he was in the water, seein' a mirage. No savin’ him. His face was burned to a crisp. But looks like you’ll make it, even though your face will never be the same again.’

Coolamon

Click here to read more WEP stories.

CONTEST ALERT!!

And I've just submitted the first chapter of my romance, Fijian Princess, in a Harlequin So You Think You Can Write contest. I'd love it if you'd click this link to my story and read it and comment. Thanks!! Here is the link to the contest if you have a full manuscript ready and would like to enter!

Australia has just celebrated N.A.I.D.O.C week, a celebration of our indigenous culture. Here is my favourite Aboriginal protest song -- Took The Children Away - ARCHIE ROACH

Archie Roach is an icon of the Australian music industry and his honest storytelling tells the sad truth of indigenous Australia. He wrote the landmark song 'Took the Children Away' in 1990, about his own childhood and being taken by authorities from his parents to a mission.

"You took the children away, Breaking their mothers heart, Tearing us all apart" the lyrics ring.

This heartbreaking account of the Stolen Generation became the anthem of indigenous activism in Australia-- It was awarded two ARIA Awards as well as an international Human Rights Achievement Award, cementing Roach as a powerful activist and storyteller.

Through the proceeding 20 years, Roach has sung with measured reason and heartfelt sorrow of his own deep experiences, as well of those of his ancestors.

This video is interspersed with archival footage along with clips from the movie, Rabbit Proof Fence, based on the true story written by a stolen child when she grew up. 

If you haven't heard this song before, I hope you love it as much as I do.

I have been busy blogging at my English Resources blog now that school is in again.