Monday, July 11, 2011

A Tale from The Muddy Waters

The Muddy Waters is a newspaper produced in Derby. Numbering about 30pp, it is produced at least monthly and is available in about a dozen places around town.

At the Boab Inn, there's a tin to put your $2.50 in if you want to buy a copy. When I put mine in the staff checked to make sure I wasn't inadvertently paying for my internet usage, which is free for guests.

With the cover featuring the success of the Bush Poets' Breakfast - an event I'm disappointed to have missed - the latest Muddy Waters features horoscopes; useful phone numbers; obituaries - as well as birthdays(!); Derby Senior's News (including a expected visit from the Broome seniors).

There are also a number of columns including from Quentin, a local policeman; Diana, a keen gardener; Fong, your friendly pharmacist pontificating on the health benefits of milk thistle and little blocks of useless information, such as 'Eunuchs do not go bald'.

It's an interesting paper, and makes me wonder why we can't continue to have papers in the city. But I'm not really in the mood for debate - and my Muddy Waters horoscope tells me not to make waves, unless I am on a very big boat and not far from land.

So, instead, I'll share with you the poem from the winner of the annual Johnny James' written bush poetry competition, Dr James Fitzpatrick.

Hope in the Valley

There's hope in the Valley, it flows slow and deep
A river of life floods the plains
It softens the tears that the grandmothers weep
Like a desert refreshed by the rains

There's pride in the Valley, those women stood strong
To stop that damned river of booze
While businessmen, countrymen swore they were wrong
But the women had too much to lose

See the children were damaged before they were born
The alcohol poisons the brain
The grandmothers grew them up, tired and forlorn
While the parents went drinking again

Now the river of grog is a trickle out there
And the young people hunt through the skies
For the spirits of old men with wild untamed hair
And that wise, patient gleam in their eyes

There's hope in the Valley, it flows deep and slow
Like culture - where life finds its themes
The river of hope has a long way to go
But it's flowing, and so are their dreams.

Melbourne to Derby and Beyond

Yesterday was a hell of a day.

After the hilarity of Jaymi's 21st, I made it home sometime around 2 or 3am and commenced packing, more than a little inebriated. Finally went to sleep around the time mum came to wake me up, 4.30. Slept in my clothes until it was time to get to the airport at about 5.30 (thank you mum, for not allowing everyone's assumption about me missing the plane to come true).

17 hours later, I checked in at the Boab Inn in Derby and ordered a pint.

Next time I'll be flying direct - and not directly after a party! Not much to say in the post, but that I met a friendly guy on the bus and I ruminated on how I feel very much like I'm escaping, but legitimately. What do you reckon?