“I know that the Australian Turf Club is supposed to be strapped for cash, but I came across a ‘Spreading of ashes booking request’ on their website,” reports George Zivkovic of Northmead. “Interested parties can contact the club and ‘a member of staff will get back to you shortly.’ Not so silly an idea, or a possible revenue-raising option, as others charge up to $400 for one hour to scatter ashes at Sydney Heads.”
James McKinnon of Nabiac presents the definitive explanation for sawdust on the butcher shop floor (C8): “Delivery drivers used to carry the new carcasses into the shops and the sawdust was there to stop the dripping blood from pooling in a slippery puddle on the floor. As if that were not ghastly enough, the carcasses were often hung on display in the corner for all to see. But it gets worse. Who remembers the pig’s severed head on display in the window, tastefully decorated with plastic ‘ferns’? I am still haunted by their blond eyelashes.”
Telecommunications in the country (C8) wasn’t always a party line, reckons Peter Riley of Penrith, who recalls a tale from a former PMG technician who was called to a farmhouse because whenever someone called, the phone didn’t ring, but the dog went berserk. The phone line was rough and ready fence wire with an earth return. Turns out the dog’s chain was connected to the line which shorted out the bell. Every time someone called, rover was zapped by 70 volts.” Sounds conducive to us.
Jim Dewar of Davistown brings us the poetry of the switchboard (if you can believe that).
In a village outside Lithgow, there’s a shed without a door,
There’s wiring hanging loose and there’s a handset on the floor,
There’s broken, rotting shelving – was this the village store?
Perhaps, ‘cos on the handset’s scribbled ‘Cullen Bullen 4’.
While Rob Watson of Myocum suspects that Herman Beyersdorf (C8) has never read Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Elizabeth Turton of Queanbeyan suggests “Herman is splitting hares, when he talks about falling down rabbit holes.”
“A recent mention of flummery (C8) reminded me of the time my Granny decided to squirt cream onto her bowl of mango flummery from that marvellous new invention, a can of pressurised cream,” writes Judy Walker of Killara. “Granny and the surrounding area were instantly covered in flummery. The cream remained in the bowl.”
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