Sweet Summer Slain

Some summer soak sabotages sanguine sunlight—
scuppers soothing sunniness…
Slick slabs seep slowly,
squally showers slake sward; sate sodden soil.
Sweet sunny season stymied,
spared sundry sunbeams’ sympathy—
sweet summer slain.

A poem using only words beginning with ‘s’. Our wet summer seemed a good place to start…

© Ammie-oy 2010


Surfing in Cairns – My first internet experience.

I was in Cairns staying at a hostel called ‘Gone Walkabout’. Barry had it seems. He’d promised to collect me if my bus was on time – the bus was on time, Barry wasn’t. I phoned the hostel and Debbie answered: Get a taxi; get a receipt; we’ll take it off your bill.

I forgot. The taxi driver was really friendly, Debbie was great and I loved ‘Gone Walkabout’. I stayed in a dorm and there was a girl in that dormitory who was on a mission to make me email friendly. I’m sorry to say I don’t recall her name but I do know it was September 1998 – Thursday 10th in fact.

Cairns was a pleasant surprise. I’d come from a stay in the jungle at Mission Beach where the heavens had opened daily in a tremendous rush of water; Cairns was all summer blue skies, sunny days and stunningly lush mountain views. We wandered down to an internet cafe and this girl helped me to set up an email account. I’d never been on the internet before, never quite gotten round to email. I set up a hotmail account (with much assistance) and started emailing. My first message was to a former travel companion, Mark. I wouldn’t start using the internet regularly for anything other than emailing until 2006 when I went to university.

Eyes Down

My first (semi) real job was at a cinema and bingo hall. I’d had a paper round as a kid and done occasional days weeding at a farm down the road but back breaking work at a pound an hour was no fun and was reserved for dire financial necessity. I was chuffed to find the bingo job.

It was in a small town. The bingo was on six nights a week and I worked four of them at £5 a night. We worked from around 6pm to maybe 9.30pm. There was a bar and the cinema was upstairs and had one screen showing films long after they’d done the rounds of the bigger cinemas – still, those cinemas were fifteen miles away at best. I was allowed free cinema entry as a perk of the job but in the few months I worked there I only went to see one film: The Jungle Book. Continue reading