Celebrate the Small Things: pizza

My stomach was insisting I eat and I agreed wholeheartedly. I opened Domino's online and was just about to order when the phone rang. My plans for beer, pizza and watching footy on the box were changed by this phone call.



'Would you like to go out with me?' said a familiar voice.

I was surprised, firstly to hear from her, and secondly that she wanted to see me, but of course I immediately said yes. An hour later I arrived at her place, went inside and waited while she finished getting ready. Although I was on time, and extremely hungry, I sat on the lounge and waited patiently for her. I wondered if she was gong to say anything to me, to continue our previous 'discussion' which had not ended well. She did not.

We drove to Shellharbour Workers Club, making small talk while I fought the distraction of my growling belly. With a sweet white wine for her and a schooner of Superdry for me to accompany my fancy titled pizza we sat, listened to music provided by a guitarist, and made small talk. I kept half an eye on the footy as I devoured my pizza with great relish. All the while I wondered when we were going to talk. The club was crowded but there was sufficient room for the elephant.

With my stomach full and the alcohol doing its job, I was reasonably relaxed and did not push the issue with her. Just after nine we left the club and I drove her and the elephant home. it was there that we finally talked.

I love pizza so I'm thankful to have been able to eat a gourmet one last night. I love my fiance, (although in a somewhat different way) and I'm thankful that the doors of communication are wide open between us and we are moving forward sans elephant. 

I'm just a little disappointed though because I forgot to bring the left over pizza home with me. It's in her fridge.The pizza may be cold now, but our love is not.

V is for Victory

V is for Victory

“Mark was at the Marrara Cricket Ground watching Australia play Bangladesh in the first test match when he received a phone call he was not expecting. The Top End sun beat down upon the heads of the players and most of the fans as Australia took control of the match early in the post lunch session on Day One. Stubborn resistance but the Bangladesh top order batsmen faltered after the break with the Australian bowlers claiming three quick wickets. The crowd was jubilant, cheering and swilling beer from plastic cups.

A lull in the vociferous celebrations allowed Mark to hear his phone, otherwise he might have missed the call. He answered without attempting to subdue his excitement.

‘Hello, Mark. Wittaya Keawwanna here. How are you? Do you have time to talk?’

‘Faark!’ said Mark.

‘Sorry, what was that? Did I catch you at a bad time?’

Mark yelled to his mate beside him that he needed to go and take this call to which his mate merely raised his plastic cup.

‘Sorry Senator. I’m at Mararra. At the cricket. I’m just trying to get away from the noise. Bear with me will you?’”

From chapter 16, Ashmore Grief

There are three games of rugby league on today, and three games of Australian Rules football. It is Friday but not a typical Friday. It is April 25: ANZAC Day in Australia and New Zealand. This morning many of us attended dawn services at various locations around the country to commemorate one of our most significant national days. This afternoon many of us will watch a game of footy or two or three. We will cheer for our teams and hopefully celebrate their victories. Our sporting heroes will entertain us and inspire us. However, today is not about sport.

On April 25, 1915, around ten thousand Australian and New Zealand soldiers died at Galipoli in Turkey as they attempted a poorly plalnned beach landing at what is now called Anzac Cove. The sixteen million lives lost during the First World War should have deterred us from further international conflict, but it didn’t.  Victory came at a terrible cost, and as history has unfolded, we see nothing but misery and devastation as nations have fought each other. Men and women have served their countries fighting for what they believed in, and dying for it. Today we remember those who have died, not as a glorification of war but as an acknowledgement of the sacrifices made by honourable and brave people.

The spirit of the ANZACs is alive and well in Australia. As we drink and eat and watch the footy, we will remember our true heroes. To all Australian armed forces personnel past and present, I say “thank you.”