Final Edition of Calamity's Corner 

Sad to say this is be the last edition of Calamity's Corner. I'll miss not receiving the bright little magazine each month.

Calamity has again suggested Christmas reading and buying, many of the books in the magazine which have been reviewed and their authors interviewed during the four and a half years of Calamity's Corner's existence.

Now is your last chance to read LJ Roberts' book review column and movie reviews by Gabriela and Sheryl.

For one who likes travelling, I was always interested in Travel News. One of my favourite cities is featured in this last edition: Paris.  

Always fond of animals, I loved Pet of the Month and some of the unusual animals featured. This month is no exception with young Cailyn from NSW Australia holding a pet carpet snake.

Jacquie Rogers has always been there with her interesting Blast from the Past tidbits.

Best of luck to Ted, Calamity's husband, who had to be rushed to hospital for a life saving operation. He is now back as good as new in the safe loving arms of Calamity.

Now to end on a personal note. I loved reading about Stefan, the hero of The Unhewn Stone and his struggles with the evil sibyl. Happiness Guaranteed, a chilling sci-fi short and the happy Billy the Bonsai Bull.

I look forward to A Summer Squall in March 13.

Farewell Calamity's Corner. I will miss you.

 http://museituppublishing.com

 

Ballad of the Sad Losers

I wrote Ballad of the Sad Losers after I'd been to one of her concerts. She is a wonderful singer. Such a full rich voice.

 

Ballad of the Sad Losers 

When Margret Roadnight came to town

Old Jimmy Cowman remembered

how he was going to be

the greatest jazz player in the world.

Play that sax, Jimmy

play them Blues.

He was Satchmo 

When Margret Roadnight came to town

She sang a song of the fifties.

Little Nancy Dee remembered

dancing with Johnnie Jones

to the old seventy-eights

Jimmy Dorsey and Glenn Miller. 

When Margret Roadnight left town

She took her songs with her.

Old Jimmy Cowman sat upon his porch.

He didn't see the crop that was failing.

Little Nancy Dee wept

remembering the night

Johnnie Jones waltzed out of her life

in the arms of her best friend. 

When Margret Roadnight left town

She took their dreams with her.

 

 

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Three children try to save a creek from the developers and are helped by a great goanna. Children 7-11 years.

 

 

I wrote this short story after seeing a painting with a outback woman and a child whose job it was to close the gates at the railroad crossing before the weekly train came through.

 

Waiting for the Train 

Minna found the three bobtail goannas among the cartons of empty cans and rubbish stacked at the back of the yard.

She placed them in the separate races she'd built from the broken stones which she'd carted from the tumbledown house at the end of the road.

The goannas refused to move. Minna prodded one. It opened its mouth and showed its blue tongue.

Suddenly the goanna at the far side took off, waddling furiously on its short legs.

"You'll be last." Minna warned the defiant one, still mouthing its rage and fear.

The goanna in the middle race scrambled over the dividing wall of broken stone.

"Naughty." Minna scolded as she put the creature back behind the others in punishment. "You have to keep in your race."

The goannas were moving nicely now. The defiant one caught up with the other two. "Come on," Minna cried to it. "You can win."

 The goannas reached the end of the race lanes and scuttled to safety among the wooden boxes, forty-four-gallon fuel drums and empty kerosene tins at the back of the yard.

"Minna," her mother called from the verandah. "Can you see the train?"

Minna climbed the peppercorn tree and stared southwards across the flat treeless plain in the direction whence the train came. "No, Mumma."

Minna's mother closed the gates at the rail crossing when the trains came through. It was her father's job but usually he was out rabbit trapping or kangaroo shooting or doing a bit of fencing for a pastoralist. Minna and her mother closed the gates even when he was home. 

The train arrived every two weeks at the little railway siding. There weren't many goods to unload. "We only buy the basics," said one of the pastoralist's wives, who came in with her husband to pick up the station supplies, told Minna's mother.

Read the rest of the story on my site at www.authorsden.com/laurellamperd

 

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Cry of My Country

 I wrote this poem for a friend of mine and didn't intend to publish it. She was English and belonged to the Edward Thomas Society when she lived in England. She was shocked when I said I had never heard of Edward Thomas let alone read his poetry. She leant me a book of his poetry. As I read I realised how different her growing up in England was to my childhood in Australia. In her old age, she was perhaps filled with memories of her childhood.

Edward Thomas was one of the doomed World War 1 poets. He was killed in action, Arras, France, on Easter Monday, 9th April, 1917. 

Cry of my country.

              To Eileen Turle 

She said

Have you read Edward Thomas

and lent me a book

of his poetry. 

He spoke of English things

Of meadowsweet

the first primrose

the blackbird song at evening

and English lanes

green and white in their season.

These things she remembered. 

My road runs wide and long.

Through the shimmering heat

The red dust dances

beyond the horizon

and from a Tallerack

by the creek

comes the harsh call of a crow.

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Emma Napier helped her friend escape an unwelcome marriage. Then she met Lord Desborough, a handsome young rake, who was looking for a temporary wife. He thought Emma was the perfect choice. 

A Cat Named Ginger

What part does a cat play in a relationship?

 

A CAT NAMED GINGER  

Gordon Smith lived on fried eggs, sausages, chips and a myriad of tinned food after Irene, his wife, died. He dreamt of the dumpling stews, roast lamb and the cakes Irene seemed to produce so effortlessly.

He couldn't believe his luck when he met Gladys Dobson, a bright-faced woman like Irene and like her, perhaps too pudgy around the hips but he liked a woman with a bit of padding and discovered besides being a widow, she was a renowned cook.

He inveigled an invitation to afternoon tea at their third meeting. When he arrived at Rose Cottage and saw the luscious cake bedecked with cream, strawberries and chocolate shavings she'd created, he thought here was the woman for him.

Cakes were Gladys's specialty. Each concoction seemed to outdo the other.

Gordon drooled over the large portion of Strawberry Hazelnut Gateau with lush strawberries nesting in cream which Gladys set before him. He dug into a serving and demolished it with relish and eagerly accepted another helping.

Gladys invited him to pop in whenever he was passing. "You're so thin," she said, her eyes large and sympathetic.

Gordon had always been thin. In spite of the fried eggs, sausages and chips, he hadn't gained any weight.

He called at Rose Cottage the next day, vaguely giving the reason he was on his way to the shopping centre and wondered if Gladys wanted anything.

She welcomed him with a wide smile. "You must have a cup of Earl Grey tea and a vanilla slice which I've just finished icing first."

He didn't need any persuading and accepted gladly.

 

Read rest of short story at www.authorsden.com/laurellamperd

 

Buy in print Cats in a Dreamspell anthology of short stories www.lldreamspell.com

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Summers in the Heart

There is nothing like summer in Australia especially for the young. I lived in a large country town which the Avon River flowed through. The school holidays, seven weeks then, seemed to last forever. I hope you loved your summers as much as I did. 

Summers in the Heart 

Taking leave of reality

I found the boat at the river. 

A switch in time

And I was back

where the sun never sets in summer. 

Sand water sky

Drifting in the borrowed boat

I found again

the lightness of being.

 

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Three children try to save a creek for the water birds. Suitable for children 5 -11

Young men should be wary of girls who invite them home to their castles. 

The Vampire Girls  

 Mayga took her phone out of her bag, pressed a few numbers then held the phone to her ear as she said to her cousin, Eliane, "I better let Vlad know we'll be home this weekend. I hope he doesn't have any of his greenie friends around like he did last weekend. We lived on soybean patties and a vegetarian combination. I was dying for a juicy rare steak."

"I liked the herbed sunflower seed loaf that Cameron made. He looked so healthy with that red blood pulsing through his veins.” Eliane rolled her eyes and ran her tongue over her sharp little white teeth.  “He and I spent a lot of time together. Vlad was so difficult about it.”

“Darling, you had Cameron trapped in your bedroom all weekend. No wonder Vlad was difficult. He wanted Cameron to stake the beans but don’t worry about Vlad. Oh, Vlad, darling,” Mayga said, speaking into her mobile. “It’s Mayga. I’m just letting you know that Eliane and I will be bringing two friends home this weekend.”

“I’m not going to be a party to you and Eliane seducing any innocent young men,” Vlad yelled. “I had enough of it last weekend.”

Mayga held the phone away from her ear. “How do you know our friends are men, darling?” holding the phone to her ear again.

“When have you or Eliane ever had a girlfriend?”

“Those two weren’t so innocent.” Mayga pulled a face at Eliane and mouthed, he’s going to be difficult. “I’d only known Darren ten minutes and he had his hand up my skirt.”

 

You'll find the rest of the story on www.authorsden.com/laurellamperd

 

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Detective Matt Allenby investigates a murder in Taylors Crossing then finds he is falling in love with one of his suspects