Scribblings by Sarah

Speedie Edie

I was given the enormous honour of delivering my Nanna’s eulogy yesterday, speaking on behalf of her 14 grandchildren. I have been so fortunate to have such a wonderful lady in my life for so long and thought I would share this little snapshot of her life with you all…

Edith was known by many names. Mum, wife, nanna, nan, sis, Edie, and Speedie Edie. For us; we knew her as “Nanna” and we dedicate this eulogy to her.

Gloria recalls Nanna being a terrific mother, even though she was very strict. Gloria had a wonderful relationship with Nanna, and developed a closeness that blossomed into real friendship as they both grew older. They spent many, many hours on the phone talking and were always there for each other.

When Gloria was 16, she moved to Canberra. It was not long after this that Nanna and Bill moved to Ingleburn in Sydney. They were always close by and Gloria remembers the support nanna gave after the birth of every child, and how she would always come down to assist, in any way she could.

Contrary to popular belief, the nickname “Speedie Edie” did not come about due to her lead foot while driving, or from any speeding fines. In fact, nanna was an incredibly safe driver, even though, often, she could only just see over the steering wheel of Bill’s big cars.

One day, Edie was driving Gloria and Willy around in the Valiant. Willy was wearing his favourite towelling fisherman’s hat, when it was suddenly whisked from his head. As it flew out the open window, he commented that Edie was driving so fast, the hat was sucked right outside the vehicle. And so, Speedie Edie was born.

Nanna and Bill were very well travelled. They went on adventures to New Zealand, America (including Hawaii), Papua New Guinea, Canada and all around Australia. They participated in many bus tours and loved the ones where they were able to camp and be outdoors. We grandchildren feel we have also inherited this spirit of adeventure and would send Nanna postcards from our travels around the world. Nanna loved receiving them and would read them over and over again. It especially meant more to her, when the postcard was sent from somewhere she had travelled herself.

After Nanna and Bill retired, they returned to Macksville to live. They joined the local dance club and enjoyed many years of social activities and ballroom dancing. Nanna and Bill looked very glamorous floating around the dance floor together.

Nanna also joined a ceramics class, which she enjoyed immensely. As did we, receiving many jewellery boxes, money boxes, vases and bowls. We still have and treasure those ceramics made for us, with the initials “E.P” etched into the bottom of them.

Scotts Head has always been our family’s holiday destination, and we loved spending time with Nanna and Bill. We grandkids always loved a special treat staying with them, first, in their caravan at Uncle Ivan’s place, and later, at 6 Willis St. Down at the beach, nanna was like a bobbing cork, floating around the ocean with a huge smile on her face.

Nanna would always take in a different combination of kids, to give Mum, or Bruce’s wife Tanya, respite. It was never any trouble, no matter how long we stayed. Nanna was a great role model – instilling in everyone – her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren – strong values and good character. She was firm but fair, and always metred her expectations with plenty of love. Belinda recalls how much she influenced her in the her formative years and has especially fond memories of collecting wild passion fruit along Warrell Creek.

In the days before by-passes, we had to go through each little town, on the long car ride home. Nanna would entertain us but making jokes out of the names. “Do you want to LOOK at Cooloongolook?” and “By Croki, we’re in Croki!” She always made sure we watched out for the ghost at Deadmans Gully and was relentless in ensuring we never ate McDonalds – always packing a lunch and baked goodies instead of stopping for take away. In hindsight, this was so much better anyway! Her sandwiches were always so fresh and tasty with tender chicken or corned beef and homemade relishes.

Nanna was the knitting and crochet queen. She seemed at her happiest sitting in her recliner, busily mending clothing, or making blankets, slippers, scarves, doilies or whatever project her grandchildren and great grandchildren were in need of. She would do all this while chatting away, or watching us, as we watched television. Nanna never indulged much in TV, and preferred to spend time watching those around her.

A strong memory for all us grandkids, including Belinda and Rebecca, were the culinary delights that awaited us at Nanna’s. Her famous chocolate cake, pumpkin scones, biscuits, quiche and gramma pie, were always a hit. No matter how much we’ve tried to replicate them, they never taste the same. I didn’t relish the choko though. I used to joke with nanna, that the vegetable really suited its name. Nevertheless, I would always eat it up because I was a little scared about the consequences if I didn’t …and also, knew there would be no dessert!

Somehow the six seater table would manage to accommodate a dinner for eight, ten, or more, and we would always eat using her “best dinner set”. No matter the combination, or how many people, nanna preferred to sit at her vintage telephone table, where she could watch everyone enjoying her meal. Washing the dishes was our way of saying “thank you”. Nanna would always protest but we could tell she was secretly pleased, and relieved, when we did them… As was Bill!

Growing up in the depression, Nanna knew how to make things stretch. Always using food until it was no more, saving buttons, thread, plastic bags, and containers. She was savvy and smart; getting the most out of everything. It was incredible to see a chicken chassis feed 8 or 28. It didn’t matter, she made it work.

Another strong memory, for all the grandkids, is sitting around the dining table playing patience or tile rummy. Bill would cheekily wait for Nanna to become distracted by the conversation and slyly wink, as he’d sneak out a tile or two, or pull out an extra card. Nanna never seemed to notice.

I distinctly remember a conversation with Nanna while sitting around the dining room table, having a cup of tea and pumpkin scone. I was talking with her about life and love, lamenting my singledom and telling her how I hoped one day, I would have a long and happy marriage like hers. Nanna replied with the following,

“I’ve been lucky really. Bill and I have had a great life together. He was a good father, good provider and a good husband, but more than anything, he is my best friend and we have grown into our old age with our companionship holding us together. Isn’t that right Bill?” Echoing from the lounge room came a reply of “Eh!?” from Bill, who was watching the cricket, and clearly hadn’t been listening to a word! Nanna and I laughed. She patted my hand, telling me I would be alright and to just “have another scone.”

Nanna was wrong about one thing though. She wasn’t the only lucky one. We are lucky too, to have had such a wonderful lady in our lives for so long. It offers us great comfort to know Nanna and Bill are together again; eternal companions.

We will now finish with a quote from an unknown author:

We watched you grow old and get tired
And with tearful eyes we watched you pass away
Although we all love you dearly
It’s selfish to ask you to stay
A golden heart stopped beating
Hardworking hands at rest
God broke our hearts to prove to us
He has only taken the best.

Thank you for joining us today, in saying farewell to our beloved Nanna.

Scribblings by Sarah


Simply put, at the base of all matters, is the heart.

We can analyse agendas; our differences; but the bones of our own personal narratives can be revealed as a desire for one thing.


Erstwhile the heart beats. Its mission; to sustain life. Yet somehow, it undergoes transmutation to become something else; something more; altogether.

A catalyst for our emotions.

Of connection.

Of hope.

Of longing.

And of belonging.

In this we holdfast, unrelenting in our pursuit love.

And of hate? It is not the antithesis of love, merely the absence of it. We must be tireless in monitoring our metronome of life, as taught to us by the tub-thump of our mother’s heartbeat, our first-known sound.

Mother Nature knows no slumber. The sound of her beating heart is ever present, in all things. Even we, in our bleakest times, listen for it. Until no longer that sound beats within us.

Is death the ultimate culmination of love?

Or is it to be so alive, that we can love what death touches?

By Sarah ©2018

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Same Same But Different, 24 February 2018, Task: Use synonyms for the following words – table (agenda), sleep (slumber), take (narrative), foot (base), black (bleak). Synonyms used in my prose are shown in parentheses; and also, Sammi Scribbles, Weekend Writing Prompt #43 – Heartbeat, Prose Challenge: In less than 175 words, write a story that uses the sound of a beating heart for dramatic effect.

Scribblings by Sarah

Rube Goldberg Machines

Today’s Daily Post Prompt “rube”, immediately got me thinking about the one and only, cartoonist and inventor, Rube Goldberg and those fantastic Rube Goldberg Machines.

A Rube Goldberg Machine is a deliberately complex contraption, in which a series of simple devices perform simple tasks to link together and produce a domino effect (e.g activating one device triggers, the next device which activates the next etc. in a sequence).

I first remember watching them in action on Sesame Street, in various formats.

Whether it was learning the alphabet in that crazy, apartment filled with nonsense…

…or being fascinated, watching that little red ball unearth a delight at the end of its travels…

…or giggle as Kermit’s attempt miserably fails!

In later years, I enjoyed a Rube Goldberg Machine in the form of the board game, “Mousetrap!”

Of course we never did actually play the game properly. We just loved the chain reaction part and did it over and over again.

As an adult, my favourite Rube Goldberg Machine, is by one of my favourite bands, OK GO. (On a side note, if you haven’t checked out their songs or film clips before, you MUST!) The film clip for their song This Too Shall Pass, is AMAZING and I often use it as a brain break with my class. I never tire of it…

If you google “ultimate Rube Goldberg machine”, several noteworthy ones are showcased, including this one that lights up a Christmas tree

One that produces music

And this one that seems to be the most elaborate advertisement for a photography company, or someone who can’t work out how to do a selfie (lol!)

Cheers to the man who started it all! Thanks Rube!

Prompt: Daily Post, Daily Prompt – Rube

Scribblings by Sarah


I feel my post is missing something.

I search for a spin; a spectacle.

Trying to inject into my ink a sense of something that bends.

That gently rows home a worthwhile message.

Wouldn’t that be mint?

By Sarah ©2018

Prompt: Sunday Whirl, Wordle 337; Words: post, missing, spectacle, spin, mint, ink, inject, bend, gentle, sense, row, message

Scribblings by Sarah

The Gift

It was A Night Without Dreams, The Day the Stars Burned. The Fairy Queen wasn’t sure if it was Sleep Deprivation, or if A Girl Called Gift truly was a Revenant. Gift appeared through A Disquieting Haze – A Vision in Blue by The Mulberry Bush. She approached The Man Who Talks to Walls and he confirmed that Gift had indeed brought the gift of herself home…

By Sarah ©2018

Image credit Furgur@Deviant Art

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt #239 – It’s All In The Title

Scribblings by Sarah


Image credit The Butler Soapbox

Yves’ challenge today is to ‘get on your soapbox and have a good rant. Your rant can deal with anything from minor pet peeves to serious societal issues and don’t feel like you need to hold back on my account‘.

I have an issue I would just love to rant about, but I am using my better judgment and refraining. It’s all a little too recent and raw, and I am fearful I will express things that are not appropriate or that I will end up regretting. I know that’s kind of the point of this post, but I’m still in the midst of processing and dealing with a betrayal.

However, I will have a rant about rants. As my husband would readily tell you, I am a bit of a ranter. I can be very black and white – especially when it comes to morals and following the rules. I see injustice, or liars and cheats, and my blood just boils. And….I have to tell everyone all about it! Sometimes, I can feel myself flipping my lid and inside my head I’m saying, ‘Calm down…ease up turbo’ but I just keep going. Like I have verbal diarrhoea!

Anyhow, it is something I am actively working on, by using mindfulness techniques, because I have come to realise that people don’t always share your values, and that expectations vs. reality can differ greatly. I have also come to realise there is a difference between venting and ranting. When I feel myself crossing that line, between a vent and a rant, I am starting to recognise and rein myself in. Blogging helps. I can rant creatively and more obscurely – saying what I need to say without becoming a shrew!

After recently going through the “Hawaii Missile Alert” debacle, it has certainly helped put things into perspective. If something grinds my gears, I am using the mantra, “Oh well, at least it’s not an inbound ballistic missile!”

Sometimes changing the lens through which you view a situation can transform everything…

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt, #238 – Rant

Scribblings by Sarah

One More Time

Even with a plethora of songs on my iPod, none of them, were filling the void I was feeling today. I flicked from one track to the next, feeling ever more, musically dissatisfied. I needed something that would turn my mood around.

Suddenly, I was struck with an idea. I wandered over to the buffet and pulled open the top drawer. Inside, I carefully extracted an old 45 vinyl record. Turning it slowly in my fingers, I smiled. Yes, I mused, pleased with myself. This would scratch my itch!

I opened the lid of my old, 80s stereo (that remarkably, still worked – they didn’t design things like this anymore) and flicked the power switch to on. A satisfying crackle of static hummed through the speakers, ever so briefly. Placing the vinyl on the the turntable, I manually guided the thin needle into the first groove of the record’s A side.

As the opening chimes of the piano riff began, I immediately began to feel soothed. The sound was amazing as it boomed through the stereo speakers, surrounding me and carrying me away. The molten voice of Gloria Gaynor soon sponged off all the hurt, rejection and disappointment, replacing it with something else.

A righteous, empowering, spirit overcame me, and I found myself jumping up; dancing and singing along, alone in my lounge room. In that moment, I knew things were going to be okay. I would be okay.

But as the final words of the song faded out, I decided I had better play it one more time, just to be sure…

By Sarah ©2018

Prompt: Daily Post Daily Prompt – Suddenly; and also, The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 335, Words – design, plethora, soothe, groove, final, none, vinyl, chime, void, sponge, song, one

Scribblings by Sarah


The Vile Truth was that the Shadows in the Cellar had Frozen Filaments Inescapable, A Mind without Doors. Entering Soul Scathing Darkness, the Wrath of the Dryads was enhanced by A Dose of Fetish so that The Forgotten People met Charred Ends in 1983.

By Sarah ©2017

Image credit mariyaolshevska

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt #236 – It’s All In The Title

Scribblings by Sarah

Morning Thoughts

Seams part in the middle.
Slivers of light
tell rumors of dawn.

Birds lost in chatter
cheer on mighty efforts to
ditch the covers.

Rising to boil the kettle,
staring at the vine creeping
past the kitchen window.

Thinking of nothing,
and dreaming of everything.

By Sarah ©️2018

Image credit Pixabay

Prompt: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 332, Words: boil, sliver, middle, seams, vine, mighty, rumors, lost, ditch, nothing, tell, light

Scribblings by Sarah

Unrelenting Silence

After 7 Years, the Festering Roots of their relationship were Ineffable.Their marriage was A Fairytale with a Very Bad End indeed. As they entered the Cracked Facade of The Scarlet Temple, the couple had An Unavoidable Encounter.

“I’m sick of being your Shadow Puppet!” exclaimed the wife. “I can’t wait to be free of you”.

Your I is an Illusion,” retorted the husband.

And with hearts no longer tied to the other, they went their separate ways. Famished: Into An Unrelenting Silence.

By Sarah ©️2017Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt #234 – It’s All In The Title. Task: Choose one or more of the titles below and fashion a poem or story around it

Scribblings by Sarah

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas one and all. Thanks for your support with my writing and for following my blog. Have a safe and happy holidays.

Scribblings by Sarah

Walking Away

What a slippery time has been had this year.
A shock really, that I haven’t been broken.
Always taking care to screen my face and
lock my tongue, so it doesn’t run away.

I have leashed a chain around my thoughts
as I realise the shards of discontent.
Instead of hitting out, I hit the grass with my shoes.
A walk can always cure what ails you…

By Sarah ©2017

Image credit Pixabay

Prompt: Sunday Whirl, Wordle 330. Words: broken, time, slippery, shock, screen, chain, shard, grass, runner, tongue, lock, shoe

Scribblings by Sarah

The Incident

The incident took place after a moment of forgettery in June. The external mesh had a hell of a job, holding back the flinging masses. I asked my friend if I may lend a tool to ease the effect of neglect. With a pop of the shears, the demagogue had been decapitated.

By Sarah ©2017

Image credit Laughing With Angels

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Wordle #181, Words: incident, lend, forgettery (n. a faculty or facility for forgetting; faulty memory), external, mesh, demagogue (n. a person, especially an orator or political leader, who gains power and popularity by arousing the emotions, passions, and prejudices of the people), hell, fling, effect, June, decapitate, pop

Scribblings by Sarah

The Secret That Changed Everything

It was The Secret that Changed Everything. Jasper and the Magic Teapot stumbled through the Valley of Forgotten Souls and discovered My Inner Feral Child had had A Return to Lucidity, and that The Alter Ego had Got Away with The Cat’s Pajamas!

For the Love of Absurdity,” Jasper cried, his heart rate breaking its usual 60BPM, “couldn’t they just stay in The Uninhabitable Spaces Between Us?”

By Sarah ©2017 

Image credit Prawny via Pixabay

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt, #228 – It’s All In The Title. Task: Choose one or more of the titles below and fashion a poem or story around it 

Scribblings by Sarah

What’s In A Name?

The task: These are 10 Book titles. ACTUAL book titles – and your mission is to read the list, stop long enough from your gut splitting laughter, compose yourself, then choose a few from the list and write the “jacket blurb” – in no more than 10 sentences. Choose no more than 3 selections – and write the “explanation” of the content – in no more than 10 well-crafted sentences for each title.

“Living with Crazy Buttocks” by Ima Quivering
Did you know buttock implants are one of the fastest growing and most popular cosmetic surgeries among women? At a cost of $17,000, Ima expected the firm, satisfying appearance known as the ‘bubble butt’. However, what she ended up with was something else, altogether. Delve into the world of wobbles as Ima explores the weird and wild adventures of a derriere gone wrong… and how to survive it!

“The Pyromaniac’s Cookbook” by Major Burns
Welcome to the Pyromaniac’s Cookbook where recycling, reclaiming and reusing, has reached a whole new level. In this, his first cookbook, ex-firefighter Major Burns, talks you through how to use a burning house to your advantage. Why waste the natural, extreme heat offering you a perfect BBQ that could feed the whole neighbourhood? Sample the unusual flavours of smoked memories and blackened furniture to spice up any meat dish! Garnish with ash and charcoal for a tasty twist. Find out more about this renewable new cooking method, that can be used over and over again, as long as it’s not your house.

“Sorry I Ruined Your Orgy” by Patty Flungdung
Patty bravely shares her story – a gripping tale exploring the dark side of sexual experimentation. No longer satisfied with karma sutra, ménage a trois, or S and M; Patty and her group of extreme orgiest friends have turned to more organic props for their erotic adventures – bodily fluids. Not for the faint hearted, Flungdung tackles the fetish known as scatophilia and why it’s misunderstood by so many.

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt, #226 – What’s In A Name?

Scribblings by Sarah


Draughts of wind wheeze through the white space in my mind, as I struggle to compose a draft.

Writer’s block is a rite! Whether it’s right or wrong.

Find me an idea; a wisp even. Yes, there it is. I follow the thread. See where it leads and am about to hit ‘publish’ when, I realise I could be fined!

The sum of it is, that it’s already been done by someone else!

By Sarah @2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix, Double Take – 28 October 2017, Homophone sets: draft/draught and find/fined

Scribblings by Sarah

Passing Trains

Image credit Andre Benz via Unsplash

Life is like a train ride.

We pass each other on our set tracks, intent on our destination.

Some of us make it to the station; while others get derailed along the way.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Only 100 Words, Three Line Tales – Week 90

Scribblings by Sarah

Jumping Ship

Overwhelmed by a world teeming with pretense, I am challenged to keep up with so many ‘individuals’. In this dearth of light, I take the easiest possible route to jump ship.  Ambivalence is my drug, and I take it in bulk. Shock; horror.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 322 Words: route, dearth, light, possible, bulk, individual, pretense, drug, jump, challenge, shock, teeming

Author’s note: A more cynical take on the prompt words for my second contribution for the Wordle this week… 😉

Scribblings by Sarah


I am an Abstract Evil Barbie. So please Stop Calling Me Frank and give me The Pineapples from the Dawn of Time.

Take them to the Bimbo Toolshed and store them with my GoGoPenguins and Loudmouthkitten. Don’t get all Kissyfoot about it or I’ll serve you to the Devil with Cheese!

Now leave me in peace to complete my Reign of Frogs. And close the Squirrel Nut Zippers behind you!

By Sarah ©2017

Image credit Pixabay

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt, #224 – Name That Tune
Task: YES – these are REAL.Anyhow, there are 10 selections. Pick a few, one or two – and create something, anything, maybe 3? Let yourself just have a ball with these. Create whatever – short story, flash fiction, poem. Just play.

Month Of Mini Writing Challenges 2017, Scribblings by Sarah

Fooey Pooey

As I walk my two pooches, I pop in some earbuds and switch on my iPod hoping for something motivating. It randomly selects ‘Foo Fighters’ – excellent choice! I listen to the gravelly voice of Dave Grohl and find it ironic, as I bend down to pick up the steaming heap, that he can be a Foo Fighter, while I am being a Poo Fighter.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Sammi Cox, A Month Of Mini Writing Challenges, Day 29. Task: Pick the name of one of your favourite bands / groups / artists. Use that as your inspiration to write a story in 50 words.