Category Archives: Mark

Aptitude Test for Admission to Nursing

15 Monday Sep 2014

Posted by in Mark

≈ 23 Comments

Tags

, , ,

Nurse then

Once upon a time to be a nurse all you needed to do was look good in a veil. Well, no more. Along came us purse carrying nancy boys that didn’t wear veils and changed everything.

Below is the test that modern day nurses must pass to enter the honorable profession.

Aptitude Test for Admission to Nursing

This test has been complied to assess candidates.

 

Instructions: Read each question carefully. Answer all questions, omitting none. Time limit is 4 hours. Begin immediately.

History: Describe the history of the papacy from its origins to the present day, concentrating especially but not exclusively on its social, political, economic, religious and philosophical impact on Europe, Asia, America and Africa. Be brief, concise and specific. Minimum 1400 words.

Medicine: You have been provided with a razor blade, a piece of gauze and a bottle of Scotch. Remove your appendix. Do not suture your work till it has been inspected. Maximum time 15 minutes.

Public Speaking: 2,500 riot crazed unionists are storming the classroom. Calm them. You may use any language except Latin or Greek. Time limit 5 minutes.

Biology: Create life. Estimate the differences in subsequent human culture if this form of life had developed 500 million years earlier with special attention to its probable effect on the Westminster parliamentary system. Prove your thesis. Minimum 10,000 words.

Music: Write a piano concerto. Orchestrate and perform it with flute and drum. You will find a piano under your seat. Time limit 12 minutes.

The fantasy nurse

The fantasy nurse

Psychology: Based on your knowledge of their works, evaluate the emotional stability, degree of adjustment and repressed frustrations of each of the following, Alexander of Aphrodisias, Ramsey II, Gregory of Nicea, Hammurabi. Support your evaluation with quotations from each man’s work making appropriate references. It is not necessary to translate. Minimum 1200 words.

Sociology: Estimate the sociological problems which might accompany the end of the world. Construct an experiment to test your theory. Minimum 500 words, experiment time 10 minutes.

Engineering: The disassembled parts of a high powered rifle have been placed in a box on your desk. You will find an instruction manual printed in Swahili. In ten minutes, a hungry Bengal tiger will be admitted to the room. Take whatever action you feel appropriate. Be prepared to justify your decision. Time limit 9 minutes.

Economics: Develop a realistic plan for refinancing the national debt. Trace the possible effects of your plan in the following areas, cubism, Donast controversy and the wave theory of light. Outline a method for preventing these effects. Criticise this method from your point of view as demonstrated in your answer to the last question. Minimum 900 words.

Political Science: There is a red telephone on the desk beside you. Start World War III. Report at length on its sociopolitical effects if any. Time limit 2 minutes, minimum 25 words.

Epistemology: Take a position for or against truth. Prove the validity of your position. Minimum 500 words.

Physics: Explain the nature of matter. Include in your answer an evaluation of the impact of the development of mathematics on science. Minimum 7500 words.

Philosophy: Sketch the development of human thought, estimate its significance. Compare with the development of any other thought. Minimum 300 words.

Today's real nurses

Today’s real nurses

General knowledge: Describe in detail. Be objective and specific. Minimum 600 words.

Phew, no smoko or cigarette break. Are we nurses tough or what?

First published: http://hungsworld.wordpress.com/2014/09/15/aptitude-test-for-admission-to-nursing/

The Tail of God 3

05 Friday Sep 2014

Posted by in Mark

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Pic by Warrigal

Pic by Warrigal

Just a recap, my name is Gordon O’Donnell. I am scientist from another dimension and me and a couple of class mates accidentally created the universe. Our teachers have sent us here to study for our degrees and I am heading for the planet Earth in the galaxy know as the Milky Way. My task so far is to create a monetary system, teach everyone in the galaxy to speak English but more importantly teach them cricket.

“C’mon Gordon” says Viv. Viv is my SNAP (Space Normalisation Adaptation Process) Coordinator, oh, in case you forgot, space an acronyms go hand in hand. Damn. “We are heading up to the bio so I can show you where you will be living till Earth is ready for you” Viv informs.

“What’s a bio Viv?” I ask as I glance around my beautiful cabin, a book list to die for, my own cook and a bar that never runs out.

“With long distance space travel you need to live in a biosphere otherwise you will go mad or in your case, madder” laughs Viv.

“Do you think I’m mad Viv?” I question.

“No, not so far anyway Gordon but you will eventually live in Inner Cyberia at the Rectory of the Church of St. Generic Brand with Bishop Bishop, Father O’Way and Belinda the housekeeper. Most of the time this lot are found drinking at the Window Dressers Arms Pig and Whistle affectionately know as The Pigs Arms. A stoic bunch of drinkers are always there and they are going to test you out. You need to know how to respond to fit in.” says Viv.

I find I cannot speak. Never in my wildest dreams could I have ever imagined such a scenario. We jump in an elevator and after a few minutes the lift door opens and we are in the main street of some sort of village. A mixture of housing surrounds and I can see a hotel, café and a few shops. People are moving around the streets.

“C’mon Gordon, I show you your house” instructs Viv and we walk a very short distance to a beautiful bungalow style house that over looks the beach.

“Wow this is fantastic” I mutter out loud, more really thinking about my surroundings than making any intelligent comment.

“Fair dinkum Gordon, anyone that doesn’t like this is a few kangaroos short in the top paddock” says Viv. Viv reads my face in an instance. “Fair dinkum means is that right and a few kangaroos short in the top paddock means that if you didn’t like this then you must be a mad” Viv informs with that irrepressible smile.

“This bio is the beach side village with fishing harbour, point break for surf and foothills at the rear and cricket oval in the centre of town. There are about 50 droids here who will create the atmosphere so it seems as if you are having a normal existence plus a four team cricket comp. The central computer has set the weather to replicate your birth planet and is fairly similar to Earth, you know day night, summer winter.” Viv states as this is all fairly ordinary.

Me, I’m overwhelmed. This amazing house with wrap round verandas that take in all possible views. A village, here in space, fair dinkum, hey its working, maybe I can settle into Earth after all.

“Come on Gordon, lets hit the pub for a couple of frothy’s, beers, before tea, dinner” says Viv, teaching as she goes along.

We enter the pub. A magnificent low lying building with a grand bar and a dining room to one side. Several droids are sitting at tables talking about the weather and some at the bar like they are propping the place up and watching sport on the screen.

We perch on a couple of stools at the bar and are approached by the barman. “Gerard, this is Gordon” says Viv. We shake hands, a custom I’m not quite used to yet.

“What will it be Gordy, we have Trotters Ale or Trotters Ale” informs Gerard.

“Make that two” says Viv. I’ve been drinking this Trotters Ale since coming on board and I must admit I really like it now although it did take some time. “So for tea Gordon it’s Bat Shit on toast or Kanck’s gizzard sandwiches?” smiles Viv.

My jaw drops and the bar erupts in laughter, hmm, Inner Cyberians, a tricky lot.

We enjoy a few more ales and I’m feeling quite relaxed but there is something that has been puzzling me. “ Viv” I explore, treading carefully, afraid to be thought of as mad “ Look in the last episode someone spoke to me about getting on with it, I thing the name was Hung”

“ Oh, Hung” reveals Viv, full of knowledge “ Hung’s the author of this story. Look see that screen over there, and how you can see a faint image of a person typing at the keyboard, well that’s Hung”

“ Author, story, you mean I’m not real but simply a fictitious character.” I blurt confused as to what’s going on.

“ Of course you are real Gordon. Everyone that reads this story knows you created the universe and this website has over 450,000 hits so mate you are very real” asserts Viv.

“ But he spoke to me” again my anxiety rising.

“ And yeah, you can speak to him any time but it must be inside closed brackets like this []. If you don’t like something or have a suggestion on the story just type you request inside closed brackets and Hung will talk to you” says Viv. “ Here I’ll show you”

[Hey Hung, great gag about the bat shit on toast]
[Thanks Viv. Gordon may need some sedation later till he understands]
[Yeah, he’s a bit wet behind the ears but I think we can work with him, I mean he likes beer for starters]
[Hung, Gordon here, am I real?]
[As real as anything else in this universe. Don’t worry, any concerns just talk to me. My closed brackets are always open to you.]

First published: http://hungsworld.wordpress.com/2014/09/05/the-tail-of-god-3/

The future smartphone

02 Tuesday Sep 2014

Posted by in Mark

≈ 22 Comments

Tags

,

future smart phone

Scientists at the No Idea University in your Capital City have designed this futuristic smart phone as a way of over coming neck injuries. Apparently these scientists used data from the ABS(Absolute Bull Shit) that show one in three smart phone users will develop serious neck injuries later in life.

Chief Scientist from the university, Dr Nothing Is Unbelievable told this roving reporter that the committee decided to mount the smart phone directly in front of the eyes so that users will be able to totally dedicate themselves to their online activities. When questioned about safety and that users may walk over cliffs or get killed by passing traffic the good Dr noted that with every scientific advance there are always risks.

Hungs Wide World of Shorts

26 Tuesday Aug 2014

Posted by in Mark, The Sports Bar

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

, ,

Pic by Warrigal

“Lillie approaches from the Vulture Street End, Boycott pads up, its bowled him, Boycott’s off stump knocked out of the ground, no shot offered, can you believe that……”, the lounge room roars into action, grown men cry, dogs bark, people flood the street tossing hats in the air rejoicing, backs are slapped, beers are poured, babies are conceived, this is summer this is cricket, this is heaven, their best batsman bowled without offering a shot, life doesn’t get any better than this, ah yes, cricket where the only thing better than cricket is more cricket.

Yes cricket, the one true national game. Forget your football codes cricket is life and life is cricket. Understanding cricket is easy. Get more runs then they do, simple. Nothin’ too hard bout that. And yes the culture, the joy, the atmosphere, its quasi-religious and coming from an atheist that’s saying something.

As a kid growing up in Wollongong all my mates played cricket and for me batting, bowling or fielding I couldn’t care less, just playing the game was all I needed. Weekends were cricket in the juniors Saturday morning, Grade in the afternoon. Sunday morning surf then when the nor’easter came in cricket in the park with me mates. Mum had to come and get me for tea as the sun had set ages ago. She’d call out from the street “Mark, get home, it’s as black as, tea’s on the table, how can you see that ball anyhow?”, “But Mum, a century beckons”, I always wondered why mum called me Mark when my name’s Hung, anyway some thing’s are a mystery.

My Dad, an Englishman tolerating us colonials, would get the bus to the bottom of Bulli Pass then from the roadside would hold up a sign “SCG”,

Pic by Warrigal

someone would always pull over and give him a lift. I was too young to go along at first but then my initiation came, the SCG, the hallowed turf, the smell of the freshly cut grass, the crowd, the banter between the Poms and the Aussies, always witty, never violent or abusive and supporters of both sides could sit together and barrack for their team. Mum would pack ham and mustard sandwiches and Dad would shout an ice cream, bliss.

Then as a young man going to the test with my mates, eskies full of beer, pies and hotdogs, hot chips and seagulls. Doug Walters would stride out and the crowd would erupt, “Dougie, Dougie” we’d chant. If he got a boundary the noise was deafening, all of us would rise as one, “You bewdy”. Then tragedy, Dougie caught in the covers, “Poms can’t field, how’d they catch that “.

Then as I aged a bit more and the Hill disappeared and my brother-in-law, Brad, and I would sit in the stands. One birthday, which falls in January, somewhere between the 4th and the 6th, hint hint, we went to the SCG and watched India play, Azzarudin, mate, me and Brad wanted to make him an honorary Aussie, he was brilliant. But it was against the Poms that was best, the old dart, the mother country, those were the days.

Tutu and I moved to Adelaide in the eighties and loved it. 15 minutes to the oval, no rain, 5 days of heaven. Saw the mighty West Indies, Adam Gilchrist, V.V.S Laxman, Wasim Akram and the graceful Brian Lara. In the first few years here, Tutu would bring books to the game to read but it gets hot in summer, 40 plus, so now she drops me at the Oval and goes on a spending spree on my credit card, I mean am I a winner or what.

So for those that don’t understand cricket, don’t worry. Just pretend you like it or compromise like Tutu and read a book, enjoy the fresh air, the sun, the community, being as one with total strangers, the total boredom, applauding your opponent for good play, all of these things are cricket and oh yes check the scoreboard occasionally.

 

Chris Gregory’s Chicken

20 Wednesday Aug 2014

Posted by in Mark, The Dining Room

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

, , , , , ,

Pic courtesy taste.com.au

Pic courtesy taste.com.au

 

Here’s a conversation I had many years ago with a blogger by the name of Chris Gregory. He sent me this email about how he prepared chicken, a meat I love.

 

“I meant brine it to make it kosher. To be kosher the meat can’t have any blood in it, so they put the butchered meat in a salt water solution to make sure.

Okay. Cell walls are permeable, so you put the meat in the salt water, the moisture in the cells is wicked out. But because the meat is immersed in water, the solution maintains equilibrium, and moisture flows back into the cells, until everything is as moist and saturated as it can possibly be. Then, when you take it out of the brine, the moisture is locked in there, making the flesh as moist as it can be.

The other advantage of this is that you can infuse the meat with flavors by just putting stuff in the brine, like pepper, pineapple juice, ginger, whatever. It helps preserve the meat as well, and it means it’s already seasoned. And very, very succulent. It only really makes sense to do this to poultry and pork (fish are better dry cured, usually). But it really improves poultry and pork, which is bred to be way too lean these days and dries out easily.

I’d cut a chicken in half then put each half in a separate ziplock bag with a third of a cup of salt (kosher salt if you can get it, but preferably something with no caking agent) and a quarter of a cup of brown sugar. Fill with water, then put the bags in the fridge overnight. You could also use orange juice or pineapple juice instead of water, but reduce the sugar. Whole peppercorns are good too.

Next day wash them off then let them air dry on a rack. Brush with oil and season just before cooking. I’d smoke them, but a charcoal BBQ like a Weber will also do a good job. Or cook them in an oven the usual way.”

First published: http://hungsworld.wordpress.com/2014/08/20/chris-gregorys-chicken/

The Minty Wrapper

18 Monday Aug 2014

Posted by in Mark

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

more minties 2When I was young boy I was walking down the street a station wagon drove past. The window was open and someone was waving to another car and let a minty wrapper go. I picked it up and when inside to tell Mum and Dad. Now my parents were very serious people, mum starting crying “Environmentally devastated” said Dad.

Dad called a meeting in the town hall and a decision was made to send a small delegation to government house to protest. So Dad got out the Zephyr and we drove down to the big smoke.

The funny thing was that as we got closer to the city signs kept popping up on the side of the road like “Down with minty wrappers” and “Polluters die”. Somehow people knew about our protest, bush telegraph I suppose.

When we got to the main square a good size crowd had gathered. A man with a megaphone stood on a crate “Wadda we want, biodegradable minty wrappers, when do we want ‘em, now”. The crowd roared the chant back and more people poured into the square. People were yelling and rattling the gate of government house and yelling abuse at the guards. Riot police entered the square and protesters threw rocks and fire bombs. The police charged at Dad but he stood his ground, the copper said “look mate we all want biodegradable minty wrappers but no protest allowed without permit number 1068B”. The crowd surged behind Dad, now in the tens of thousands.

SAS troops piled into to the square discharging weapons into the air, cars were being turned over and set alight, “No more minty wrappers, down with wrappers” they yelled. Fighting was erupting all over the place, there were over a hundred thousand people now and machine gun fire sounded in the distance. Tanks were rolling into the square.

Suddenly a trumpet sounded the loudest sound imaginable. Everyone stopped in their tracks and looked to the sky. Anminty wrapper enormous cloud enveloped the square. The trumpet played one more note piercing ear drums and flattening any resistance. The crowd, police and troops all stopped and all eyes were fixed on the sky. The cloud opens and a figure appears that resembles a man with one of those flat caps. “Listen up” the creature says “haven’t got long Z Cars is about to start” he grumbles “God here or Jesus, Allah, Yahweh, Jehovah whatever just don’t call me late for dinner, get it, my real name is Gordon, Gordon O’Donnell, get it GOD, boy, you lot need to get out more”.

The crowd is stunned into silence, troops and police alike lay down their weapons.  “Look” the creature says “It’s 1966 your time and biodegradable wrappers aren’t ready yet but they will come, it won’t be long. Computers will be the size of a pocket watch and a man will walk on the moon”. A man to my left yells “He’s a fake, a computer the size of a watch, man on the moon, he talks in tongues”. God points his  index finger at the man and the man vaporizes and God shrugs his shoulders “Look, it will happen, a time will come when almost every home will have a computer and they will all talk to each other via the telephone, I will contact you when this happens, look to the ABC, my name will be Emmjay, any questions?” “God, what will become of us, what’s the meaning to life?” “Life, well, a writer will appear and give you the answer, 42 but no one will take him seriously. Look I can read your minds, sorry no cash or winning numbers and with football don’t worry everyone will continue to hate Manly” I thought to myself, I guess some things won’t change. “Is their life in the universe besides Earth, of course, but not as you know it Jim, anyway enough now. I am now going to make you all forget what’s happened. I want you to stop fighting and go home”.

more mintiesWhen I was young boy I was walking down the street a station wagon drove past. The window was open and someone was waving to another car and let a minty wrapper go. I picked it up and when inside to tell Mum and Dad. My parents looked at each other and as their eyes met a meteor burned up in the stratosphere causing a bright trail across the sky, “Be a good boy Hung and put it in the bin” said mum, Dad smiled, the dog yawned. Life’s a funny thing sometimes.

5 Great Songs

12 Tuesday Aug 2014

Posted by in Bands at the Pig's Arms, Mark

≈ 12 Comments

AbacabThe song I want to feature from this album is titled Abacab. To me is was a real kick arse track that never reached the heights that it deserved. Some Genesis fans bailed after Peter Gabriel left and fair enough, Gabriel went on to have his own solo career and was quite successful. Phil Collins took over from A Trick of the Tail and Genesis soldiered on and thank Gordon they did. This is a great track.  By the way Abacab was the structure of the song. Broken into parts and played that way. Enjoy this at your pleasure. I do.

FragileThis song comes from a UK band called Yes and I believe that this, Fragile,  is about their best album. The track I want to feature is called Roundabout and it’s big down fall was it was too long for popular radio at the time. This is where blues meets classical. Love it. The bass on this track is simply amazing. What a shame that radio insists on 3 to 4 minute tracks. This would have been a number one hit all round the world.

SliceOfHeavenThis track just won me over. Whether Dave Dobbyn wrote songs prior or after I didn’t care. This pop tune has every angle covered and I love it. Written for Footrot Flats gives it even more appeal.

 

 

FM_(No_Static_At_All)Now did you think you would get away from this without something from Steely Dan, you are kidding yourself. One of the best songs never to have made it is No static at All which we all refer to as FM. Beauty personified.

Queen_IIYes. Even Hung succumbed to this song and why I didn’t really gel with them like the Rolling Stones they did write some great pop tunes. This is the classic of all classics.

The Tail of God Part 2

09 Saturday Aug 2014

Posted by in Mark

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

Pic Courtesy Warrigal - Gordon run out on the moon

Pic Courtesy Warrigal – Gordon run out on the moon

Just a quick recap. I’m Gordon O’Donnell, an astrophysicist from another dimension and me and a few of my class mates have invented this universe. Our teacher has sent the three of us here to study it for our astrophysics degree. I’m on a ship called Rudolph, my navcom is a SANTA(Sub Atomic Neuroleptic Transparent Android) who prefers to be called Nick and he is taking me soon to meet Viv. Hmm, the story continues….

Well after a good sleep in my cabin in the control room I wake to a knock on the door.

“Come in” I say while trying to orientate myself.

It’s Nick and he’s holding an envelope. “Hungry Gordon?” Nick inquires.

“Yes Nick. I could eat the arse out of a low flying duck” I state thinking how ghastly that would actually be but it is an old Meupian saying.

“The auto cook machine is in the corner. Tell it what you want and it will be brought to your cabin” says Nick. Now that’s my kind of service.

“What’s in the envelope?” I ask

“It’s a LETTER from Professor Schnitzel about your mission” relates Nick “I suggest you have something to eat then have a good read and then I will take you to meet Viv.”

A letter, I muse how quaint. I tell the auto cook I want black coffee, tomato juice, scrambled eggs and toast. I stare at the letter, hmm, yes TD never actually said what I was supposed to do on this mission. A knock on the door and the auto cook droid enters with my tray.

“Thank you” I say not really knowing what to say.

“You are welcome your highness” replies the droid.

“It’s Gordon, please, no formalities” I request.

“Auto Cook reprogramming, yes Gordon”

Hate formalities, my parents gave me a name and that is what I want to be called.

The aroma of the coffee is amazing and the food delightful. Note to self, this droid can cook.

Refreshed I open the letter but to my surprise it is blank. “Nick” I cry “This is a blank page”.

Moments later Nick appears at the door. “Gordon, what wrong?” he gasps, shock and horror on his face.

“This letter, it’s blank” I bemoan.

Nick releases a hearty laugh “For a minute there I thought this was something serious. This is a LETTER Gordon” Nick states “An acronym for Line Embedded Telepathic Text EditoR”

Space and acronyms, I should have know.

“See that tag on the top left hand corner and the one on the bottom right hand corner. Place your thumb and finger on those tags and the letter comes alive” laughs Nick.

Easy when you know how. Nick walks off down the passageway and half way converts to wheel mode, spooky when they do that but it saves power.

I put my fingers on the page as Nick has said. Suddenly text starts appearing on the page just like magic. Wow, isn’t fiction complex some times.

“Hello Gordon TeeDee here. Hey do you like my new version of my initials? Makes me sound young and groovy.”

Why is TeeDee(Groan) writing in italics I wonder.

“It’s so the viewer at home know it’s me talking”

How did you know what I was thinking?

“This is a telepathic document. This means only you and I will ever know what has been said. The mission detail must never be known in your new universe otherwise it will cause immense trouble. The page is verifying both your fingerprints and your retina. This ensures that it is me and you that are talking. ”

Bloody hell, what have I got myself into.

“Let me tell you. You are currently on course for a galaxy the locals refer to as the Milky Way. Your base planet is called The Earth but before you can settle on Earth you must travel the galaxy and establish the following three things. Find the Goldilocks planets and teach them Meupian which in your universe will be referred to as English, create a monetary system so that you own all the money in the galaxy but most important teach them how to play cricket”

My head is spinning. This was nothing like I imagined. All this information is overpowering.

“Yes, I know but this is an important part of your studies, setting the groundwork. Now to help you I have provided a transponder, it’s on the desk”

I look over to the desk at this object which says Panasonic TV Remote Control. WTZ? ( What the zark?)

“Yes I know, we had to cut them into the deal otherwise they were going to complain to the government. When you find a suitable planet, locate the most advanced primate tribe. Active your force shield so you won’t be killed and eaten and state “Take me to your leader”. The shield will ensure the natives comply. Point the transponder into the eye of the head primate and press the play button, get that play. This gives the head primate all the knowledge needed to achieve your goal. Anyway, off you go as we are approaching the word limit and we haven’t introduced Viv yet. Stay in touch”

Another knock at the door. I put the letter down and all of the text just vanishes, amazing, this is complex fiction for sure. It’s Nick “Gordon this is Viv” states Nick.

Wow, cowabunger, yea har, dribble, dribble, this is a female droid with the best set of, um, er, you know, um, wow, I’m blushing, my face is red and all of a sudden I’m feeling really hot and flushed, I can’t take my eyes off them. [Hung here, right oh Gordon, get on with it, this part is about to end]

“Nice to meet you Viv” I bumble “Now let me guess, Viv stands for Vital Ingredient Vitamised or Virtual Item Verified?” I state in an attempt to recover.

“No actually” says Viv “It’s short for Vivienne. I have been modelled on an Earth female and I am your SNAP Coordinator” replies Viv.

“Snap?” I ask somewhat deflated.

“Yes, Space Normalisation Adaptation Process. I’m here to show you the ship, take you to the bio and teach you how to cope on Earth”

You know, sometimes true stories are really hard to tell and this is a true story, well sort of.

First published: https://hungsworld.wordpress.com/2014/08/09/the-tail-of-god-part-2/

Me and Brownie

04 Monday Aug 2014

Posted by in Mark

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

Thirroul

Source: http://beachsafe.org.au Thirroul Beach

Hey, Hung here, Look my last early days story was about playing cricket in the back yard at mums. This is about a mate or two I made after that. For the record most of this is true, some is pure bullshit and some is artistic licence. All the names have been changed to protect the infertile or what ever.

It was my job to go to the Halfway shop for Mum whenever she ran out of anything. I mean this was 1968 and as consumers we wanted goods, well that’s what Ma would say. Anyhoo, I’d go to the Halfway shop for Ma and Pa whenever they wanted things like sugar, butter, cigarettes, blow up dollies well you know, the Halfway shop had one of everything.

One day Mum sent to he shop about four times. The kid who lived next door to the Halfway said “Hey mate, you got the runs or what”. Well I didn’t know what he meant but he was playing cricket by himself by throwing the ball against a wall and then hitting it with the bat.

“No mate” I said “Just getting stuff for Ma for our tea” I replied.

“Well, wanna a game of cricket? “ said this kid “Tomorrow down the park? Nine o’clock”

So it happened. The next morning , me and this kid turned up at the local park for a game of cricket.

I said “ Mate, before we start, I’m from the country, my dad was born overseas and worst of all I’m catholic”

“ No worries mate. I’m from Thirroul” Instantly we were mates.

I said “My names Hung” I spurted. He said in reply “ Brownie”

I enquired “What’s your first name?”

“Don’t worry about it Hung, no one ever refers to me by it so just call me Brownie”

The Halfway shop was owned by Mr and Mrs Drew or as we eventually got to know them George and Mildred. They were wonderful people and came from London. George was ex Royal Navy and was doing well until the Germans decided to blow the shit out of his boat. Many died but George survived but with many injuries and much later he and Mildred emigrated to Australia. They landed in this hell hole called Sydney. One day, on a drive, they found Austinmer and a shop for sale and they brought it.

George and Mildred were fantastic and really looked after me and Brownie. We would stack shelves and fridges for them for a few bob. Mildred had a full time job and George’s injuries prevented him from doing lots of physical stuff so me and Brownie did it for him. Mildred always finished early and when she got home George would take the dog for a walk past the Headlands Hotel and well, being thirsty would drop in for a couple of beers and then bring a few home as you do.

One day Brownie said “C’mon Hung lets smoke, men smoke, George smokes, lets smoke”. So one day after getting our wages from George, me and Brownie decided to go and get some smokes. We caught the bus to Thirroul, over Kennedy’s Hill on a Dion’s bus from Moore Street for 2 cents. The corner shop sold packet’s of Viscount 10’s for our “Dad’s” for 15 cents. We had two bob each so we was rich.

We walked down McCauley Street. Brownie pointed out a house called “Wyewurk”

“Famous house is that Hung” said Brownie “Some pommy poofter lived there”

“What’s a poofter Brownie?” I asked innocently

Brownie stared to turn red, breathing hard and making a grunting sound. Now Brownie was big, mean looking and about three times my size. Kids would cross the road rather than deal with Brownie however the whole time I knew him he did not hurt a soul.

“I don’t know what a bloody poofter is Hung but don’t say anything to your Ma and Pa because when I did I had the crap belted out of me so it must be bad, I just heard one of the big boys say it”

We walked in silence down Bath Street and dropped into the public baths at Thirroul. The Sydneysiders that were too scared to swim in the ocean swam here. We just watched them for a while from outside the fence.

Me and Brownie then went to the northern end of Thirroul beach, out of the wind, to light up our smokes. We didn’t inhale as it made us sick but we were men and men smoked. This bloke came along the shore. He had a sack and would forage around the rocks for squid and shell fish.

“Hey Hung” said Brownie “Here comes the old dagoe” Brownie smirked.

“Hey boys” said the old dagoe “ Smoking ain’t no good for you young fellas” he said

I felt guilty as. This fella had been going up and down the coast for years, hardly speaking to anyone. “Hey mate, what’s your name? “ I called.

“George, mate” he replied. From then on we always sung out hey George and he would reply hey boys. Me and Brownie had long given up smoking when one day George said “Boys, come up and see my house”. We followed George up a goat track to this beautiful house, painted blue and white, overlooking the ocean. We met Mrs George, Effie, who gave us soft drink she made from lemons and pastry with honey and nuts. It was all good.

“You boys better get going to beat the tide” George said “And come up any time you want”

“Thanks George, we will” I replied as me and Brownie headed down the goat track back to the beach.

Each weekend after that me and Brownie would head to George and Effie’s house after buying a few things in the main street of Thirroul usually toy cars that we both decided to collect. One day when we got to George’s house something was different. The house was locked up and all the furniture was gone from the house. A note was taped to the door,

“Boys, George has passed away and I have moved to Marrickville to live with my family. Thanks for you infectious company and I love you both, Effie”

We walked home in total silence. This time we went via the highway over Kennedy’s Hill past Austinmer beach. As we got to the Halfway shop Brownie turned and said “Hung, there is something I have to tell you” Brownie said in a deep tone and a sad face “ I’m moving to Bulli”.

Well I never saw Brownie again and George and Effie gone this life thingy was a funny game.

The following week school holidays started. I went down to the Halfway shop and stacked some shelves, replenished the fridges and put out the papers. Mr Drew went to give me some money but I asked for a pie and a drink instead. The shop had a table and chairs at the front and I went and sat down to eat my pie when this strange kid came in the shop. He got a pie and drink and came and sat next to me.

“You from around here?” he asked.

“Yeah mate just up the road” I nodded in the direction of where I lived.

“Just moved in mate, the names Jono, do you like cricket?”

 

Here’s some interesting links if you get insomnia and want a quick cure.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thirroul,_New_South_Wales

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Austinmer,_New_South_Wales

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HeadLand

First published: http://hungsworld.wordpress.com/2014/04/08/me-and-brownie/

 

HOO’s Wide World of Sauce

28 Monday Jul 2014

Posted by in Mark, The Dining Room

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

, , , , ,

Pic Courtesy taste.com.au

Pic Courtesy taste.com.au

Here’s a sauce recipe that can be used across many different meals and is great for us that live alone as it is a good way to get in your veggies.

Ingredients

  • olive oil
  • salt and pepper
  • sugar
  • chilli powder
  • paprika
  • garlic
  • onion
  • carrot
  • capsicum
  • zucchini
  • celery
  • tomato
  • wine
  • tomato paste
  • stock cube
  • stock or water
  • parsley or basil or both

Method

All your veggies can be very coarsely chopped as I use a stick blender to finish the sauce. Stick blenders are great, simple to use and easy to clean not like all of those fancy ones you see advertised on TV.  The carrot needs to be peeled. I worked with a girl named Karen who was a chef and she did her training in Paris. Karen told me always peel carrots.

In a deep sided pot add the oil and place on a medium heat. It is important that this sauce never gets too hot as we don’t want to lose the vitamins. Think along the line that we are going to sweat the veggies down  rather than saute. The pot also needs to have a lid as we are going to capture most of the fluid that comes off during the cook.

Add the garlic chilli and paprika. Gently cook for a few minutes, then the onion, then the carrot, capsicum, celery and zucchini last. Think like this, hard veggies first, softer ones last. Stir occasionally adding the veggies one at a time over around 10 minutes.

Put the lid on and turn the heat down to low and cook for around 10 to 15 minutes.

Now add fluid. I use tinned tomatoes usually two cans, tomato paste, some white wine, a stock cube and the sugar. Mix through. Now add a bit more water/stock/wine so everything is covered, sometimes up to half a cup. Don’t over add fluid as if you need to simmer this down to thicken some of the goodness in those veggies will be lost.  Lid back on, low heat, 10 to 15 minutes.  Turn the heat off and leave the lid on till all the steam has stopped. I have a Scanpan pot, approximately 25 cm wide and 15cm deep with a transparent lid which makes it easier to gauge but allow say another 15 minutes.

Add the parsley or basil. With your stick blender pulse the sauce in the pot and stir. By this I mean, blend for 2 to 3 seconds. Then using the blender as a stirrer, stir the sauce. This causes chunks to rise. As a chunk comes to the top, pulse that site for 2 or 3 seconds.  Do this till you get a good consistency. Add salt and pepper to taste. I always use iodised salt as iodine is a very difficult trace element to get in your diet.

Now, you don’t want the sauce to resemble soup so it is better to under blend then over blend. It needs to retain some body however with all the veggies well chopped.  Cool. Portion. Freeze. This usually makes up to eight portions by using 2 x440 tins of diced tomatoes and one of every vegetable.

I use this sauce on pizza, meatballs, chicken pieces and prawns. Beautiful with pasta and freshly grated Parmesan cheese.

 This sauce costs me about ten bucks to make plus elbow grease. Enjoy.

Warning: Sometimes I cook the sauce a bit longer with the lid off to thicken or if I have added the meatballs or chicken pieces – usually thighs.  ( If added these take about 15 to 20 minutes to cook). Once blended this sauce “pops” especially if the heat is too high. If you cook the sauce for whatever reason with the lid off get it onto the lowest heat possible. I learnt the hard way and had to clean up sauce that ended up all over the place.

First published: http://hungsworld.wordpress.com/2014/07/28/hoos-wide-world-of-sauce/