Scribblings by Sarah

Quacking Quackers

Last weekend, my husband and I were walking around the lovely, serene Lake Ginninderra in Canberra’s north. The lake, though man-made (to deal with excess stormwater around the area), is fed by nearby Ginninderra Creek.

The word “ginninderra” is derived from the local indigenous Ngunnawal word, meaning “sparkling” or “throwing little rays of light”. On most days, this is an exceptionally apt name as the lake is also one of my favourite kayaking spots, with pristine glassy water shimmering reflected light from it.

I also love this lake for its abundance of bird life. I enjoy indulging my inner “twitcher” as I strive to spot and name the plethora of species that call the lake their home.

So after strolling along the shores in John Knight Memorial Park, I was delighted to see some mallard ducks paddling the shallows with 6-8 very young, very fluffy, very ADORABLE ducklings. Sharing my delight, was a boy throwing bread to our happy feathered family.

Or so I thought…

As I drew nearer I was horrified to hear a “clack” as the “bread” hit the ground just shy of the shoreline near the ducks.

The little turd was throwing rocks at them!

I clicked my tongue in anger and my husband, sensing my rage, told me to “leave it”.

But I just couldn’t.


What was WRONG with this child?

As a teacher, I just couldn’t let this behaviour go by.

“Hey!” I shouted in my best teacher-voice (I am on holidays after all), “How would you like it if I threw some rocks at you? Stop it and leave them alone.”

He looked at me goggled-eyed and disbelieving and I had a nanosecond where I felt I had gotten through to him.

Until his claque (AKA parents) swooped down from their high horses and began to tell me off for daring to reprimand their precious, darling, little pyscho….I mean, son.

I repeat.


What is WRONG with (some) parents?

How is this ok?
What example are they setting?
Were they simply embarrassed at their lack of supervision and taking it out on me?

So the lesson that kid learned:
Go ahead.
Throw rocks at the ducks.

Don’t listen to what anyone tells you, but most of all…
Don’t worry about being a good human.

I know it’s “just” ducks and I know I’m sounding old but, seriously? How has it come to this? The world has gone quacking quackers!

I struggle to comprehend this entitled, selfish style of clique parenting. We are growing monsters of our youth; indulging and accepting their every whim instead of letting them grow and learn from their mistakes.

I walked away.

My husband turned to me, shook his head sadly, and said, “Told you to leave it.”

p.s. I hope that kid gets seriously swooped during magpie season. The birds will have their day.

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Double Take - 8 January 2022
Challenges by Sarah, Free Verse


It was with a swath of nays,
I vocalised the strongest neigh
It’s like I never was in


It was nothing,
See me?

In the window pane?
It’s nothing.

That’s right…


I’m nothing.

By Sarah ©2021

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie , Saturday Mix – Double Take, 26 June 2021

Challenges by Sarah, Mindlovemisery's Menagerie - Saturday Mix

Saturday Mix – Double Take, 27 October 2018

Double take

Mindlovemisery's Menagerie

Welcome to the Saturday Mix, 27 October 2018!

This week we are seeing double with ‘Double Take’.

The ‘Double Take’ challenge focuses on the use of homophones* to build your writing piece. You have two sets of homophones and you are challenged to use all of them in your response – which can be poetry or prose.

Our homophone sets this week are:

groan – reaction to hearing a pun
groan – has gotten larger


guessed – past tense of guess
guest – a visitor

You may be thinking to yourself, How can I use homophones in my writing?
Luckily, Kat at Literary Devices, has some examples for you.

Example of Homophones in Literature
This poem is filled homophones (marked in bold). They create a humorous effect in the poem through having the same pronunciation but altogether different meanings.

Sole owner am I of this sorry soul

View original post 159 more words

Stories by Sarah

Bobbie Jo

Bobbie Jo wouldn’t know class if it crawled into her knockoff Prada and went home with her. 

Mandy shook her perfectly poised platinum bob and made a “tsk” sound. She would have to speak to someone about the lax staff, letting someone of that caliber into the country club. Anyone who lacks such decorum should hardly be allowed past the front door step!

I mean, really! she thought, haughtily. What next?

She turned, picked up her real Prada and stormed elegantly out of the venue. After all, she had a plane to catch.


She arrived at the airport, and directed her driver to the private hangars. She was looking forward to travelling on her own jet, and not having to deal with the nuisance of other passengers.

I mean, really! she thought, haughtily, When one had a financial position such as she, why not?

She primly collected her overnight bag and business suit, resting on its hanger in a sleek protective bag, and handed them to the steward.

Her stiletto heels clinked on the metal steps as she climbed into the small, but perfectly formed Learjet.

She clipped her seatbelt loosely around her hips, sighed contentedly and leaned back in her seat. Mandy pressed the service button. She deserved a champagne.

The steward brought her a delicate glass of Moët and Chandon. She took a sip and analysed the fine little bubbles, softly popping as they reached the top of the chilled glass. She realised the steward was still standing there.

I mean, really! she thought haughtily. Wanting a tip already?

“Uh, ma’am?” the steward began, nervously. “Um..well..”

“Yes?” she probed, becoming irritated.

“Well, ma’am, I just need to let you know, there’s been a slight change in the plans for our flight.”

Mandy sat straight up in her seat.

“What? What change?” she snapped. She could not be late for this meeting!

The steward continued, “Our regular pilot, Captain Blake, has fallen ill, so I’ve been advised to let you know, there will be a replacement filling in for him.”

“Oh, fine. No problem,” Mandy said, relieved. Why was this idiot even bothering her with such details? she wondered. I mean, really! She didn’t need to know such trivial matters.

“Anyway, Captain Beaumont just wanted me to let you know,” the steward continued, before wandering off down the aisle.

Beaumont? Captain Beaumont? Mandy thought hard. Why was that name so familiar?

As the pieces fell into place, Mandy was horrified as Captain Bobbie Jo Beaumont, entered the cabin, waggling her fingers at her, and giving her a knowing grin…

By Sarah ©2018

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, First Line Friday: July 6th, 2018 and Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Double Take, 7 July 2018. Words: hangar/hanger and lax/lacks

Stories by Sarah


The video footage was grainy, but Taylor recognized them easily. 

That was definitely a male, and a female, collecting her mail. She furrowed her brows, trying to make sense of it all.

She had known something was up. She hadn’t received any mail for weeks now. Which was unusual. I mean, there were always bills! she thought.

So her friend Jess had suggested she set up a trail camera. It was easy enough.

The first bit of footage she’d reviewed, had captured a wayward moose. That in itself was an interesting theory. She’d imagined it, carrying her post away and reading it in the comfort of, well, wherever it was mooses (or was it meese?) live.

But this. This was something else altogether. She strained her eyes, confirming the identifying features she knew so well.

The moussed hair was a dead giveaway. Nathan was never one to leave his vanity behind. What Taylor couldn’t understand was why his new girlfriend was part of it. She didn’t even know her!

Or at least, that’s what she thought.

The footage continued and the girlfriend turned around. Giving Taylor no doubt, as to who it was.

Jess wiggled her fingers and gave the camera a cheeky smile.

Taylor was furious! Jess had mentioned she had started a new business on eBay. She’d just never clarified what. Taylor looked at the packaging of the trail camera, and the final pieces fell into place.

Seems eBayer cash4jess81, would do anything to make a buck!

By Sarah ©2018

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, First Line Friday – June 8th, 2018 and Saturday Mix – Double Take, 9 June 2018

Poetry by Sarah, Shadorma

Bailed Up

All bailed up
hiding in the bales,
peeking out.
Bush rangers
carry out their phased attack
unfazed and brazen.

By Sarah ©2018

“Bailed Up” by Tom Roberts, 1895

Author’s Note: (Source: Art Gallery Of NSW, accessed 14 April 2018, ref.

Tom Roberts conceived the idea of a bushranger picture while he was staying at Inverell in northern NSW. He painted ‘Bailed up’ largely en plein air. It tells as much of the qualities of the local landscape as of its staged drama. Roberts superbly captures the summer heat conditions, which render to stillness the dramatic circumstances of a Cobb & Co hold up.

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Double Take, 14 April 2018; Homophone sets – bail (temporary release), bale (bundle of hay) and fazed (stunned), phased (done in sequential parts)

Stories by Sarah

The Long Weekend

I could tell I was coming down with the flu. I had a thick, cotton-wool head, my nose was sniffly, and a general feeling of malaise had settled over my body.

Dammit! I thought to myself. This weekend of all weekends!

My husband and I had been planning this trip for ages – a romantic getaway for the Queen’s Birthday long weekend. In fact, he was on his way to pick me up right now. We were leaving straight from work in an attempt to make the most of time we had.

I sluggishly paced the front entrance of my school and prayed it was just a little head cold. Maybe if I ignored it and just carried on with our plans, it would go away, I hoped. I popped two Panadol into my mouth and took a swig of water from my drink bottle to wash them down. As I placed the cap back on the bottle, our little red car rounded the corner.

My husband pulled up and I opened the door. I jumped in, and he said, “Gee, you look terrible. Are you feeling okay?”

Feeling bolder now that I had taken the paracetamol, I replied, “Sure, just a little tired. It’s been a big week.”

“Well, sit back and relax. I can drive the whole way to Halls Gap if you like?” he offered.

“That would be great. Thanks,” I answered, gratefully.

He pulled out from the kerb, and put on a podcast to listen to, while I closed my eyes. The motion of the car, and the monotone voice droning from the radio, soon soothed me to sleep.

When I woke, I felt a little better! Thank goodness! I thought.

I sat up and looked around, trying to get my bearings. I noticed we had pulled into a service station, and across the road a sign read ‘Ararat Bakehouse’. My husband returned to the car with some basic supplies and a couple of meat pies for dinner.

“Here you go sleepyhead,” he smiled, handing me the food. “We’re only about 45 minutes away!”

I could hear the excitement in his voice. We had been looking forward to this weekend and had lots of hiking and outdoor activities planned. He had also found us a rustic log cabin to stay in. That was our version of camping.

As we started off again, the fog began to roll in. We watched the temperature gauge on the car, drop 8 degrees. Soon, we could barely see a metre in front of us. My husband reduced his speed from the 100 km limit to 80 km. White knuckled, he gripped the steering wheel, straining to see.

Suddenly, a kangaroo flew out in front of us, merrily hopping across our path. My husband swore and braked – narrowly missing it.

“Damn ‘roos!” he cursed.

“That was close,” I agreed, shaken. “Remember last time we came here, we also had emus and deer running across the road too?”

“That’s right. There were too,” he recalled. Being even more cautious, he slowed his pace further and the 45 minute journey, soon grew into 1 hour and 20 minutes. Finally, we arrived.

Reception had waited for us, realising we had most likely been caught up in the thick fog. “It’s a real pea souper out there tonight,” our host said, stating the obvious.

We opened the door to our cabin which was as quaint and cosy as the pictures on the booking site had promised. The fire had also been started for us. Quite some time ago, given the warmth emitting from the flue – it was permeating throughout the whole place; living room, kitchen and bedroom.

We unloaded our belongings from the car and quickly settled on the couch with a glass of red wine, enjoying the warmth of the fire. As we sipped our drinks and chatted, the feeling of being unwell descended upon me once more.

Disappointed, I headed to bed for an early night, hoping a ‘good night’s sleep’, would see me right for the two big walks we had planned the next day…

When I roused, the digital clock on the bedside table informed me it was 5:33am. The next thing I noticed, was the unbearable heat. I was sweating profusely and sticky; entangled in the sheets. The air felt thick and heavy. My head pounded and the roof of my mouth felt itchy and dry. My lips were crusty and razor blades scratched up and down my throat. My nose was so blocked, no air could pass through either nostril. My joints and muscles ached from my teeth to my toes. I groaned and threw myself out of the restrictive covers, desperate for air.

I padded into the kitchen and poured myself a huge glass of water. I gulped it down and then headed to the front door, walking out of the claustrophobic heat of the log cabin and into the frosty early hours of the new day. The air was a welcome chill against my burning skin and as I mouth-breathed in and out, steam accompanied every time. I sighed with relief but then, feeling a bit dizzy and wobbly on my feet, I sat myself down in one of the bistro chairs on the porch. I closed my eyes and waited for my fever to subside.

As the sun began to peek over the horizon, illuminating the sentinel boulders that adorned the towering peaks of the mountains that surrounded the gap, I remembered the beauty of this place and ached to be able to experience it.

I hoped with every fibre of my being that, Halls Gap had a pharmacy. Because flu or no flu, in an ultimate test of mind over matter, I was determined to climb those mountains, and hike those trails. Just as we’d planned…

P.S. Halls Gap DID indeed have a pharmacy and, using frequent and maximum dosages of lozenges, cold and flu tablets and nose spray, I did manage to hold off from succumbing, for the remainder of the weekend. I WAS able to do those hikes. (Never mind that I then fell in a heap and had the next week and a half off work! I maintain it was worth it.)


By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix, Double Take – 25 November 2017. Homophones to use: bolder – more courageous, boulderlarge rock, flew – past tense of fly, flu – short for influenza, flue – chimney pipe; and also, Daily Post Daily Prompt, degree

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


All That I Know

Author’s Note: My response today is my first ever attempt at a song! Now, please understand I am not at all a musical person, aside from loving to listen to it! I cannot sing and cannot play an instrument other than drums! For some, reason as I was contemplating my response to my own prompt (weird in itself!) the song lyrics and tune just materialised in my brain. I have had a go at putting the chorus to some simple piano and recorded the full song a cappella (I have included links at the end of the post)

Warning: My singing is truly terrible but no point having lyrics if you can’t imagine the tune. Apologies in advance for your eardrums 😃 I’m having a brave and bold moment by putting it out there in the first place! Lol

Oh yes it’s time, oh yes it’s time,
Oh yes it’s time oh yes it’s ti-me.
Oh yes it’s time, oh yes it’s time,
For all that I know.

When I, when I was a young girl,
I thought that life, that life would be ea-sy.
But then, I found my own way,
And the world it got real ha-zy.

My mu-mma, she said now wee one,
Just take things day by day.
I tried to do what she said,
But I found myself in my own way.

Oh yes it’s time, oh yes it’s time,
Oh yes it’s time oh yes it’s ti-me.
Oh yes it’s time, oh yes it’s time,
For all that I know.

I drank the words of poi-son,
My head sang to my soul.
I knew that she was lyin’,
But I still believed it all.

Then I, then I went a seekin’
To see what I could find,
Drink, some drugs, some feel good,
But all I lost was my mind.

Oh yes it’s time, oh yes it’s time,
Oh yes it’s time oh yes it’s ti-me.
Oh yes it’s time, oh yes it’s time,
For all that I know.

New hope is hard to come by,
When things get so bad you see,
don’t want to admit it –
That fear that you, could be m-e.

So you just keep a walkin’
And never me, you mind,
My presence is forgotten,
My fate, my fate has been signed.

Oh yes it’s time, oh yes it’s time,
Oh yes it’s time oh yes it’s ti-me.
Oh yes it’s time, oh yes it’s time,
For all that I know.

Oh yes it’s time, oh yes it’s time,
Oh yes it’s time oh yes it’s ti-me.
Oh yes it’s time, oh yes it’s time,
For all that I know.

Oh Lord,
Please save my soul.

Sample of Chorus score –
Full song link –

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Daily Post Daily Prompt, believe; and Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Double Take, 2 September 2017