September 30. Day 274. Wet, wet, wet

Decades ago, in a place just downstream from where I was today, our dog went for a swim. We thought we'd never see her again. Kedron Brook rages after a big wet. But our dog at the time, a beautiful pure bred golden labrador, wasn't going to let that stop her. She jumped in after a stick, as she always did. The stick swirled away in the rapids. Tamsin followed also being swept in the currents. We thought she was gone. Not so. There she came swimming against the tide. She'd lost her stick but she wasn't going to be defeated. Instead she's found a great big limb and had that in her mouth powering up against the floodwaters. Bloody amazing. Today wasn't flooding but the water was rapid and swift. Decades haven't erased the memory of that day, nor has the certain knowledge that my two cavatzus do not have the swimming strength of a golden lab. We left them on the lead. They were a little annoyed but any walk is a good walk. The rain may have been both heavy and annoying but it was badly needed. Also, I couldn't help but think how much worse it would have been had the rains come yesterday on Riverfire day. Once again, the result could have been far worse.

September 29. Day 273. Riverfire

Pretty much where ever you are in Australia this weekend it's party time. In Melbourne it's AFL grand final time. The West Coast is celebrating because the Eagles won. The rest of Australia is celebrating because Collingwood lost. Sydney has its festival of the boot with the NRL finals tomorrow . Good luck to all of them. I still hate football. Here in Brisbane we like the finer more refined things in life. We have just come to the end of a three week long celebration of theatre. And what's the best way to end the Brisbane Festival? With a bang, of course.
Riverfire may be environmentally irresponsible. It may make travelling around the city almost impossible. It doesn't matter.
It's a wonderful celebration.
It brings out the crowds and the best in people.
It looks amazing.
It makes people happy.
My family happily celebrated at my husband's office overlooking the Story Bridge.
Never have so many people been in the finance sector on a Saturday night. Fair enough too. I love the Story Bridge.
Tonight she was glowing. The whole city was.

September 28. Day 272. Little Buddy

When I meet dogs like Buddy I feel reassured. Being pushed around in a dog pram is all the proof I need that while I may be mad I'm not alone in my insanity. It's Friday afternoon and like all good crazy dog owners instead of heading to the pub we head to the dog off leash area (after first visiting Margaret in her room overlooking the area). The dogs are all running around like crazy but not Buddy. He's 15 and is a pram enjoying the area in his own way. I love that. I love his happy smile. I love the fact that neither his owner nor any of the other dog owners seemed to think this was a strange thing to do. We all get it. It's the way it should be. Dogs are people too.

September 27. Day 271. Here we go again

 Three times this year at three different hospitals. My body hates me. Or perhaps it was just an excuse to see my specialist one last time. For the past 15 years I've been under the care of a quite delightful gastroenterologist. He knows me too well. Today was his last day before retirement. I knew the end was near but just how near I wasn't aware of until I rang yesterday seeking help. Sorry, they said. Just one day to go and he's fully booked. But like he's done so many times before the good doctor was not about to let me down in my hour of need. Come fasted to North West Private Hospital and we'll fit you in. I did and he did. From next week I'll have a new specialist. He comes highly recommended. I'd rather like not to have to see him at all but chronic diseases such as ulcerative colitis tend not to disappear. I live in hope.

September 26. Day 270. I've Been Meaning to Ask You

 Children ask the curliest of questions - questions that our adult sensibilities often find difficult to answer.
But what is worse than the questions asked is the ones they fail to ask and the more we fudge on the former the more there will be in the latter. Guaranteed.
I found most of the difficult questions in my son's formative years came in the car on the way home from the theatre. Good theatre raises questions and provides a very comfortable starting point for the discussion.
I firmly recall the car ride home from seeing Two Weeks With the Queen. That discussion was about life and death, AIDS, sex, semen, homosexuality and probably more. He wanted to know stuff. I answered it in an open, honest and age appropriate way. Perhaps had I known what children's author Morris Gleitzman had in store for us that night we might not have gone. That would have been a shame. At some point those questions would form. The answers should come from a trusted source. All of that is, of course, ancient history. I raise it today only because of the connection between theatre and the questions young people have for adults. I've Been Meaning to Ask You, which had its world premiere as part of the Brisbane Festival tonight, is a crowd-sourced verbatim piece which taps into the hive mind of two generations, It connects people with questions to those with answers - not definitive answers but honest ones. It does so with a great sense of fun, a whole lot of technical wizardry and just a bit of a song and a dance for good measure. Instead of dancing around the difficult questions it waltzes right up to them. And because the performers are all young it has a beguiling sense of innocence about it. It has all the hallmarks of its creators The Good Room - It's fast and furious, thought provoking but at the same time good fun. And best of all, if I have questions I can now turn the tables. The drama student is now the expert. Winning.
You can hear our review here 

September 20. Day 264. SOS

This is me putting out an SOS call. The photographs may suggest that the damsel in distress is Miss Ashleigh and the big fat bully is my son. No, this is a Save Our Schonell SOS. This is about the theatre itself and not the Fame Show being performed there tonight.
I've seen so many shows since my teens at the Schonell but that era may be about to come to a close. The big, bad bully in this case is the theatre's owners The University of Queensland. A new master plan for the university redevelopment has been released and the area where the theatre stands doesn't have a theatre on it. The university says it is past its used by date.
True, the water I have seen gushing on stage during a tropical afternoon storm suggests the theatre needs work but you don't throw the baby out with the bathwater or in this case the rainwater. Ir's a wonderful community performance space. It has an orchestra pit and a bloody awesome pizza restaurant. That's worth saving in my book.

September 19. Day 263. Bang, Bang

Rebranding yourself Ruder Burchmore does not make it so. Tonight we saw Bang, Bang as part of The Brisbane Festival. Rhonda opened the show saying this was basically her evil twin, the one not at all like the Rhonda who appears in things such as Carols by Candlelight. Except it was exactly that Rhonda. We saw a bum (not hers). She saw men doing a bit of pelvic thrusting with their hands in their groin area. But the Bang, Bang related to a gun and frankly it didn't fire tonight. The only real rudeness was the group of women at the table behind me who talked and laughed at the top of their voices through the whole show. The production itself was fairly PG. It was just Rhonda playing a caricature of herself. And then we walked outside and saw the free family entertainment which was just as provocative  - if not more so.
Sorry Rhonda, there was some hot stuff on display tonight but it was outside that the sparks were flying.

September 18. Day 262. David and Goliath

Part David versus Goliath part Daniel walking into the Lions' den. Call it what you will but the very obliging Brisbane Festival artistic director David Berthold today sat himself down in front of a group of QUT journalism students and submitted himself to a grilling. From terrorism to the impact the Casino development will have on future Brisbane Festival plans, David was candid, open and honest with the students. He joked that it was the media engagement he feared most. The students being assessed on their work were doubtless just as afraid. In the end it was very rewarding and professional - just as it should be.

September 17. Day 261. Quiet in the house

 There are many reasons not to like Mondays.
Most people could list of a whole bundle of them. Generally speaking they involve work and the fact there's a whole week to survive until next weekend.
But there's one other reason - unless you happen to be an actor. There's no theatre on a Monday. After my normal Monday stint at the ABC, I decided to take a stroll down to the Brisbane Festival headquarters. It was quiet, really, really quiet. And well it might be because the Spiegeltent was closed for the night. Monday is the weekend for the weird theatre folk whose life revolves around a different sun from the rest of us. There was one woman in an animal print directing people to the toilet - I'm still not sure why an animal print is needed for that job but she looked pretty cool and probably any occasion is a good one for leopard print .
The quietness of the site meant it was easy to find my husband. It's not often I see him surrounded by glitter  - that's normally Oliver's job. It's also not often that I'd see him near anything with The Courier-Mail's name on it. Gotcha my friend. Nice work for a Monday, if you ask me

September 16. Day 260. Smashing time

We love a movie night. Rarely can be agree on who commands the remote control or what to watch on TV but somehow we manage to find common ground when it comes to paid screen material.
Well most of the time. Perhaps it is the popcorn or the fact that most cinemas now have coffee bars or just bars. That turns the whole thing into an experience.
Mind you given how the cost can mount by the time you throw in the ticket price, food, drink and parking you'd really want to love it.
Today's offering was Ladies in Black. We've seen the stage play - twice. It received a great deal of critical acclaim. We were really just critical.
But we were prepared to give it a go if for no other reason than the fact that a lot of what we really hated about the musical was the music.
And because you should support Australian cinema. We agreed it was worth the price of the popcorn. We agreed that it was sweet and touching.
We agreed the costumes were delightful and it was refreshing to see an Australian piece of the period.
It wasn't actually smashing (the shattered glass is from a pane outside the cinema) but we all agreed my mum would love it.
That's the thing about cinema. There's something for every family member

September 15. Day 259. Golden days

 South Bank was packed today - and why wouldn't it be? Brisbane had turned on a glorious Spring Day and the Brisbane Festival had turned on a Free Family Day.
On the lawn kids were watching free performances, playing games, singing, dancing and blowing bubbles.
Outside Riverfire it was the busiest day for a Brisbane Festival ever.
I love the performing arts (who would have thought?!).
I love seeing families with kids engaging with them (that is what started my crazy relationship with Brisbane theatre in the first place).
I love Brisbane
And most of all I love things that are free.
Golden days, people. Golden.

September 14. Day 258. Pigeon pair

 Pigeons don't always get the love they deserve. Okay they swarm about city centres like flying rats but let's be honest they aren't exactly like the ibis. A pigeon has never stolen a chip out of my hand like a magpie.
A pigeon has never tried to dive bomb me and take out my eye like a magpie.
Pigeons, however, have a proud history.
Their speed and homing abilities made them hugely influential in war.
And pigeon fanciers - including one of my work pals sing their praises.
I really haven't met any ibis lovers. And they seem kind of sweet. There's this dog bowl near where I have lunch most days. The pigeons love it.
They are very sweet. Washing each other. Splashing around. Not trying to steal my lunch.
I see why people like them.
I like them.

September 13. Day 257. Home is where the heart is

 Think about the things that mean the most to you.
Think about where many of those really significant things happened.
Think about where the people you most care about live. There's no place like home.
Your home isn't just the four walls and the roof. It's the emotional attachment we have to the place, not the things.
That was what Home at QPAC tonight was about. It was an extraordinary production where a house actually materialises on stage.
There was music, conjuring and audience interaction.
It was a production with incredible warmth, generosity and enormous creative flair.
It's so exciting to see productions different from anything you have ever seen before which is the beauty of the Brisbane Festival.
Exciting stuff.

September 12. Day 256. Keep it nice

What exactly would make you think that is okay?
Scenario 1. Pictured is Emma Mary Hall. She's a performer and her one woman show Ode to Man is on at The Brisbane Festival this week. It's a personal walk through of what she has learned about men through her failed relationships and associated research. In the show she reflects on an email from a venue manager who wondered if it was okay to ask how she justified a show with such a visceral hatred of men with taking one home that night. Um what? In what universe would a question like that be okay?
Scenario 2. Another performance space just across from where Emma performed. It was the two-man show Bali. A group of women come in late after the show is underway. It requires them to walk across the front of the stage. They are drunk. They talk loudly. One of the performers stops mid performance, steps forward and addresses them directly. He tells them he can hear every word. He tells them it is very distracting. He asks them to stop. They do - until about 20 minutes later when one gets up and walks out - again across the front of the stage. About five minutes later another one does the same.
This is never okay. It is rude. It is ignorant. It is disrespectful of the performers and the other audience members. This is a 60 minute show which presumably you paid for. What would make you think this is okay? What would be so urgent you had to leave? After the show I see them at the bar. I feel like saying something but my mother taught me that if you can't say anything nice don't say anything at all. The world would be a better place if other people also learned some manners.

September 11. Day 255. Wishing and hoping

 It's weird isn't it, the things we tell complete strangers?
Popular culture will have us believe that for some reason sitting on a bar stool or in the hairdresser's chair is something akin to being in a confessional. Sure the bar has the added "incentive" of the notion of in wine truth. But the hairdresser? The smell of bleach has weird impacts on my sinuses but has never acted as a truth serum. Perhaps it is just being forced to sit still for a bit with someone in close proximity who appears willing and able to listen. In any event, the greater the emotional distance the easier it is to spill the beans - at least that's what I think. Tonight at the Theatre Republic - a precinct of the Brisbane Festival - I entered the House of Common Hopes. Here visitors were offered pieces of card and invited to write a hope and thread it to a strong hanging from the roof.
 As is the way with these things, there were a variety of responses to this invitation. Some people were obviously playing it for laughs. Others had taken a more deeply considered approach. One caught my eye "I hope I can one day come out ... 💛"

That is so sad. It should not be a thing that anyone can feel they can write that and hang it on a card for strangers to read and yet not tell people that matter.
We like to think it's progressed beyond that and for many people it probably has. But many people isn't everybody which probably only makes it worse for those who don't feel in a position to be honest with others.
Whoever you are I hope you can too.

September 10. Day 254. Laser vision

 For many Brisbane residents the Brisbane festival is a one night fireworks extravaganza. Forget the fact that the festival runs for three weeks involves something like 600 performances, 70 shows, 17 venues and 1000 artists.
I get it. There is something Bloody amazing about fireworks. But at the same time I don't get it. Of those 600 performances something like 100 are free. Come on people. This is the Brisbane Festival - it's for all of you not just the tragic arty types like myself. And even if bright colours exploding into life on the river is what floats your boat, there's more than one game in town this year. #CELEBRATEBRISBANE River of Light is a water and laser extravaganza that explodes on the river each night.  It's the story of the serpent that created the river which now snakes its way through the city. And it's one of the free events. It's 10 minutes of pure magic. No-one is too poor or too time poor for that.

September 9. Day 253. Birthday girl

"How old is she?" I'm asked regularly when anyone meets Winkle. No-one can believe that my baby girl is three. Her tiny size is part of the issue but it's not just that. Winkle is still a puppy at heart. She is playful and mischievous. She has a winked grin and really looks like there should be a compartment somewhere to put the batteries.
That pint-sized Energizer Bunny has brought so much joy into our household. She is the perfect yin to Rumple's yang - seemingly opposite and contrary forces that are actually complementary, interconnected and interdependent.
So it is only right that Lady Winkle must have a birthday party. This year we went to Margaret's aged care facility so she could join in the fun. A good time was had by all especially my little furry party animal.

September 8. Day 252. Trivial pursuit

 Trivia nights are an exercise in contradiction. Why? Stay with me. Trivia has more than one meaning depending on its use.
It can mean trite, commonplace or unimportant. If that is the case whether or not you win or lose a trivia competition should surely be also trite or unimportant. Try telling that to the competitors. Today trivia, when paired with the word competition is a celebration of who can recall the most obscure or arcane fact under pressure. The facts may be unimportant, the competition is not. Rarely is the prize of any actual value but the bragging rights are priceless.
We may not be playing for sheep stations - no it's far more important than that.
Tonight we were at a Redland Rhapsody Choir trivia night to raise funds to send the singers south to a choral concert.
Money was raised. This is good. We didn't win. This is bad. I could say that it doesn't matter if you win or lose it's how you play that counts - but when it comes to trivia competitions everyone knows that is a big fat lie. The company was good. The result wasn't.

September 7. Day 251. Home sweet home. Part 2

Before pitching the idea of respite care to Margaret, I did a reconnaissance mission. I reported back. Of all the words that came out of my mouth there were three phrases that hit home
1. My dogs could come and visit
2. "Everyone" watches The Bold and the Beautiful in these facilities and
3. She could feed the birds. Now that the short stay has morphed into ongoing care, a bar fridge has been installed in her room and a stock of mince has been acquired.
It didn't take long for the birds to get the message. The magpies, noisy miners, butcher birds and crows are already at her fly by window. The bush turkeys gather at ground level. Only the kookaburras remain elusive. Given she has only been here three weeks and the meat safe installed for only a few days that's quite the achievement. It's clearly beginning to feel like home.

September 6. Day 250. Home sweet home. Part 1

 The business of packing up Margaret's home for sale has begun.
Fortunately, I get to do the easy bits. I've collected things she wants in the aged care facility and dropped them off. I've emptied the fridge and thrown away food and a few bits and bobs. I've let people in to collect things she's promised.
But for the most part I've left the really heavy lifting to her extended family. It's sad although everyone knows it is for the best - even Margaret.
She has always said she would be leaving the place in a box.
But after repeated hospital stays she accepted respite and now agrees the Lutwyche facility will be her new home.
Where once she sat at the window looking at the flowers planted by a neighbour, she now sits at a window looking at Kedron Brook. Her outlook may have changed but her daily routine not all that much and at least she will be well cared for.
She even has flowers picked from her garden in her new room as a connection between the old and the new.

September 5. Day 249. Taking off

I am involved in a new venture.
It's a newsroom trial involving a small group of students looking at a new way of combining teaching and practice as we move into a new degree next year.
It's starting to take shape. It's in equal measure exhausting and exciting.
One minute I thin "we've got this" we are soaring" and then I fear a crash landing. But I keep reminding myself that this isn't necessarily about getting everything right. Crashing and burning is okay as long as you hose yourself off and get airborne again. At least I think so.
There's no room for negative self talk here.
Honest reflection is okay but my habit of catastrophic thinking is probably definitely unhelpful.
If nothing else it will give me something to write about, tweet about, blog about, podcast about or generally get out of my system on every channel known to man.