Terrible rumour...

Is it just me or is everyone absolutely horrified by the murder of a Perth school girl this week?

To be honest…I don’t know a lot of the detail of the story…I haven’t yet been able to bring myself to read the terrible fine print.

Last night we went to the surf club for dinner. My daughters are 11 and nine…and I couldn’t stand the thought of them going to the toilet alone. I guess every parent in Australia will feel like that for a while.

You might have heard, debate is raging in WA over an incredible rumor.

21 year old Dante Whyndham Arthurs, the man charged with the Murder of Sofia shares the exact same birthday at Robert Thompson, he has the same pudgy face…and his mother has admitted Dante spent a large chunk of his life in Britain…
Robert Thompson, you might remember, is one of the UK's most reviled killers.

With his friend Jon Venebles, in 1993, Robert Thompson kidnapped two year old Jamie Bulger from a shopping centre, tortured him then bashed him to death.

When Thompson and Venebles were released from prison in 2001 they were given new identities, and there were rumours that at least one of them had been relocated to Australia.

Dante Arthurs mother has confirmed her son, who was born in Perth spent much of his childhood in England, before they moved to Perth in 2001. She has denied her son Dante had a criminal record.

However, enough uncertainty remained yesterday to prompt West Australian deputy police commissioner Chris Dawson to order a review of Arthurs' criminal history.
Mr Dawson sais the police were aware of the rumours but had failed to substantiate them.

Sources in London last night dismissed the rumour as nonsense, adding that a similar murder in Ireland a few years was also initially thought to be the work of Thompson.
``There is no way. This would bring down the Government if it were true,'' the source said.

Personally, I don’t think it is Robert Thompson. Believe it or not, I have more faith in the system than that. But like everyone else, I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.

Is romance dead?

Is it just me or does everyone thing romance is an incredibly easy thing to kill?

I got an email from a friend in Margaret River….you’ll love it!

My friend’s husband is working away from home at the moment. It’s not actually very far away, about an hour away in a town called Capel. However, because he has to start work really early in the morning in Capel, he’s decided to stay in an on site van during the week…

Anyway…the other night, my friend was missing her man and decided to surprise him in the middle of the night with a conjugal visit.…

Up she hops, puts on a silky nightie (freezing cold in Margaret River this time of the year) slips on the ugg boots and dressing gown, and drives to Capel…


However, when she gets to the caravan park, it’s very very dark and she can’t remember which on site van belongs to her husband, so she sends him a text…something along the lines of…”Surprise! I’m out the front, can’t remember which door is yours…come and get me…”

Would you believe, he texts her back…”did you mean to send this text to me?”

I’m talking about a really loud girl here…and she was furious…she reckons she screamed from outside the van, “Well who the hell do you think I’d be sending it to? Get out here now you dickhead!’ (aahh the romance…)

Anyway…out he comes…undeterred, she drops the dressing gown in the freezing cold (a last ditch attempt to save the moment) and he walks straight past her and does a wee on the lawn!!!

Very romantic….she was gropeable….she says she went straight into the van, turned her back to him and went to sleep, got up in the morning and drove home….

Bye Bye Socceroos....

Is it just me or is everyone devastated today? I love an underdog, particularly when they’re wearing Australian colours.

But it's over. Italy one, Australia nil. The Socceroos have bowed out of the World Cup after an injury-time penalty by Francesco Totti marched Italy into the last eight of the competition.

At the Fritz-Walter Stadion in Kaiserslautern - scene of the epic win over Japan - Australia couldn't quite re-invent history, again. On the tv, you could see that the crowd was ready for a boil over….The streets and squares thronged with green-and-gold…but it just wasn’t to be….

Australia were far from disgraced. The Socceroos might be leaving the world stage but they’ve won an army of new admirers and with their reputations enhanced.

Today, in the wash up, many will argue that the Socceroos are out because of a woeful refereeing decision, but they are not the only team to claim that.

Lucas Neill, again one of Australia's best, got into a tangle in the goal square…but there was only minimal contact. The Spanish Ref must have seen something the rest of us couldn’t, because in the 93rd minute…he pointed to the spot and Totti delivered the penalty to decide the match.

There wasn't even time for a kick-off.

Cruel, tough, unjust. Maybe. But then a lot of people are wondering why Guus Hiddink was so cautious with the bench, maybe a few of the bold interchanges he has become so famous for might have done the trick. Maybe if Harry Kewell wasn’t on crutches we might have go a different result..

But it wasn't to be. No matter, the Socceroos were courageous to the end….there’s no doubt the future of the national team is in good hands…

Go the Socceroos!!!

Is it just me or is everyone not sure if there’s any room left for them on the soccer band wagon…

I admit I’ve found soccer a bit boring to watch in the past…but not this morning…that game was fantastic…so it’s official…I’m a Socceroos fan…

This morning – in case you missed it…the Socceroos got the result they needed to move into the elite round of 16, by drawing with Croatia 2-2.And according to the experts….we’ve got the opponents we want in the next round.

Australia will next play Italy in Kaiserdhslautern…that…co-incidentally…is the scene of their historic opening victory over Japan, so it’s a ground with good memories, kick off is 1am on
Tuesday, Queensland time.

It’s been a long time between drinks for the Socceroos…

I didn’t know this, but the game of soccer has been played competitively in Australia since 1880…….but it has struggled to find it’s place in Australia..

Maybe all that is about to change though…

In just one year…Guus Hiddink has played a big part in transforming the world game for Australians…

He bought a disparate set of great players together…and made them into a world class team….

Guus leaves Australia at the end of the world cup campaign. On July 10, Russia is going to pay him more than we can afford to transform their boys.

No matter what, Guus has set a great platform in Australia to build the youth game…you get the sense this is the turning point for soccer in Australia…

But you know what I love most about soccer? I love it’s multicultural flavour.

The Socceroos bring together Muslim, Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican. German, Lebanese, Polynesian, Croatian, Italian, Melanesian and Greek. It is a rich tapestry but this morning they - and we - were one thing only. Australian.

Dad's ten rules...you'll love them!

RULE ONE: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering
a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.

RULE TWO: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at
her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot
keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.

RULE THREE: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your
age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off
their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your
friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about
this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with
your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes to big, and I will not
object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact come
off during the course of you date with my daughter, I will take my electric
nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

RULE FOUR: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without
utilizing a "Barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate,
when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill
you.

RULE FIVE: It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know
each other, we should talk each day. Please do not do this. The only
information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have
my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on
this subject is: "early"

RULE SIX: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many
opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is
okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little
girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with
you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

RULE SEVEN: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to
appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want
to be on time for the movie, trust me, you should not be dating my daughter.

RULE EIGHT: The following places are not appropriate for a date with
mydaughter: Places where there are beds, couches, or anything softer than a
wooden stool; Places where there is darkness; Places where there is
dancing, holding hands, or happiness; Places where the ambient temperature
is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff
T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down
parka -- zipped up to her throat; Movies with a strong romantic or sexual
theme are to be avoided.
Movies which features chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old people's
homes are better.

RULE NINE: Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding,
middle-aged, dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I
am the all-knowing, merciless God of your universe. If I ask you where you
are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the
whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five
acres behind the house. Do not trifle with
me.

RULE TEN: Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake
the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice
paddy near Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my
head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my
daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveways you should exit the
car with both hands in plain sight.

Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have
brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car --
there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window
is mine.

You're beautiful...

Is it just me or does everyone shudder at the thought of a sick child?


We are in the middle of Mix FM’s Give me five for kids…raising money for the children’s ward at Nambour General Hospital…

If you hang around hospitals enough…what’s going on in the children’s ward could just about break your heart….but there’s good stories too…and that’s what give me five for kids is all about…no matter what’s wrong with your baby, showing that the sunshine coast cares and there is always some hope…

There are some very sad stories from the childrens ward…but I stumbled across this lovely story this morning…about British popster James Blunt's song You're Beautiful…

10 days ago, Five-year-old Claudia De'Alwis, fell head first from a five-metre balcony.

For ten days she lay in a coma, doctors saying that even if Claudia lived, there was no way of guaging the extent of her head injury, until she woke up.

This week, when the song ‘You’re Beautiful’ came on the radio…claudia started to move for the first time, and all of a sudden she opened her eyes.

Claudia’s Dad Paul says he’s convinced it’s the song that brought her around.

"Claudia loves You're Beautiful and she used to sing it all the time. It was like her theme tune," he said.

"It was an unforgettable moment when she opened her eyes and acknowledged us at last."

I know lots of people hate James Blunt (my friend Tracy calls him ‘that miserable bastard’) but I love him…and this is proof…he’s a miracle worker…!

Fat Camp...

Is it just me or does everyone want to live at fat camp?

I have been away for a week, filming a reality tv show for channel nine.

I’m not sure exactly how much information I’m allowed to divulge…but I will tell you we were filming on Hinchinbrook Island between Townsville and Cairns…

I know for some people, ‘reality tv’ sounds like a special kind of hell…and I might well feel the same when it goes to air and I am forced to look at myself ‘weighing in’ or running in and out of the surf fully clothed…or wobbling ‘slow motion’ down a Hinchinbrook beach…or arguing with my fellow fatties when they wouldn’t do things my way…

OH sure…it could all turn very ugly when the show actually goes to air…but for now, I’m loving it…

Being at Hinchinbrook with channel nine was like being on school camp again…heaps of laughs…healthy restaurant food for every meal…tonnes and tonnes of exercise…compulsory massages every day….and absolutely no responsibility…just brilliant…

I loved the film crew….which is a good thing, because I will be spending a lot of time with them over the next couple of months…

There were eight porkies chosen for the show…and I loved them all (some more than others I guess…but you’ll have to watch the show to work that out)…

One of the trainers on the show is a Sunshine Coast girl called Lauren Lilley…absolutely gorgeous girl…although she did yell at me a lot when I wasn’t training hard enough…
Fat Camp will go to air around the end of September I think…hopefully, by which stage, I will be skinny enough to not worry about how I look….hopefully….

More from Chris in East Timor!

My dear friends, family and one-time acquaintances,

Bonoite from Dili!It’s been too long since my last email.

I got a text message the other day asking how I was going in Indonesia. (I will not mention names – you know who you are!) I’m actually in East Timor, and to that person… I’m great. I’m very safe, and the CER community is being very sensible about all decisions.

Word has it that East Timor’s been on the news lately in Australia. I myself haven’t seen the news much in the last four weeks as I’ve been hiding up in the mountain villages as far from all the destruction as I can get.

It's my first night in Dili for nearly a month and I sit here typing in such a different atmosphere to that which I wrote in last time;

The population of Dili has more than halved, planes and helicopters are flying closer and more often than at Daryl Kerrigan’s house, and Aussie tanks have taken to the streets.

It has been so sad to drive through the capital and see so many burnt out buildings, destroyed markets and empty streets. Even a trip to our local restaurant to pick up dinner was quite depressing, as many of the shops on the way quite near to us that I’ve so often seen open and busy are now rubble, much the same way it was after ‘99.

The streets are mostly deserted, except for Aussie / NZ and Malay troops that have become quite a dominant presence. On the way into Dili we went through both Malaysian and Australian police checks, and it was certainly good to hear a decent Aussie accent.

The internally displaced persons count is well into the thousands, and having driven past so many churches and IDP camps, its obvious that conditions are not too great, with these thousands having to sleep on hard cold floors, some without roofs over their heads.

So many families are struggling to get a decent meal, as trade has almost halted between Dili and the outside world. But somehow, most people have managed to find joy in their lives, no matter how they’re living.In my several weeks up in the mountains I spent a few nights at the Headmaster’s place in Seloi where I teach (40min drive from where I normally stay). I’ve got memories of sitting round the radio for hours, hearing govt figures speaking, death tolls coming in along with any bits of news about the changing situation in Dili.

One of my favourites would be when those with whom I was listening heard that Aussie troops were on their way, and they all jumped up and started dancing, with kids clapping and singing that Australians are coming to save East Timor.

Other nights while I was sleeping, many of the men stayed up the whole night watching the Aussie planes circling the skies.

Most of the people I talk to about the current situation are old enough to remember the events of 1999, and some were around for similar scenes in 1975. I’ve been lucky enough to hear quite a few of their stories, yet many are saying that what’s going on now is much worse because its divided the country into two and most predict it will takes years to resolve.

But in their usual way, most have remained positive. One of the teachers told me that when Timor is in trouble, they get through it together (Ben Lee can vouch for that!), and so they took me in without any question and laughed when I tried to thank them for their hospitality, saying “You’re one of us now, you’re Timorese. You don’t need to say thank you.”

In the villages of Railako and Seloi, most families have taken in extended family from Dili, some trying to cope with up to 20 people in the one house. But they do it, cos they know that we’re all in this together.

Even though they’re all so far away from everything in Dili, they’re feeling the effects when it comes to food shortages (due to lack of trade) and, in particular, much worry for family and friends in Dili or other troubled areas. Some haven’t heard from their husbands for weeks, as many are in hiding elsewhere.But its become obvious that those in the mountains are the luckiest of everyone in the country as they don’t rely on jobs or money to buy food at shops (of which few are open), as they have their own gardens rich in fruit n veggies and coffee, and they only hear about all that’s going on elsewhere in the country, without being exposed to it.

School hasn’t really been happening, as many are either too scared to go, are out picking coffee or helping or in the rice fields, or don’t have classes as teachers are also not coming. But there’s been plenty of things to do in the meantime. Most days I’ve been out helping to pick coffee (in Railako) or helping with the rice production (in Seloi). I’ve started English lessons for the kids in Railako, and because many haven’t had school, they’re all very keen, and attendance has been better than most normal school days. I’ve also had a few requests from adults to start lessons for them, so will hopefully get them up and running soon as well.

Restoration of Independence Day (May 20) was a big day, with parades, a flag raising ceremony, and games of soccer between villages.

The kids had practiced marching for two days with no classes, and so performed their role perfectly on the day. The Primary School kids sang the national anthem, and speeches were made by all.

I was chosen to play for Seloi in the Soccer Grand Final, and scored the opening goal. Just before half-time the ball suddenly deflated and, not having another ball in the village, the game finished with Seloi 3-2 up.

I was lucky enough to go to two dances that night… one in Railako and another in Seloi. I spent most of the time hiding my poor dancing skills and doing the ‘sidestep’ with the little kids, but a few poor girls were unfortunate enough to walk away with sore toes.

Around 1 am, the tape player ran out of batteries, but after quick fundraising saw $1.50 donated by all (a good lot of money here!) the dance made it through to the next day. So amazing to watch.

Everyday I’m inspired at the way the Timorese kids can have so much fun in a seemingly difficult situation.

Those living in the mountains have warmly welcomed countless kids from outside Railako into the community. I’ll never get sick of watching (or playing) games with the community (aged from 1 to 20 [me]) as the sun sets every day! Or the way that while picking coffee they’ll all just randomly break out into song. I’ve taught them some Ben Lee, so often you’ll hear someone in a neighbouring coffee garden singing loudly “So pleeeease, baby pleeeease. Open your HEAAAART…”.

While it breaks my heart and makes me so angry to hear about the pointless destruction and deaths that are going on in the country, it’s hard not to stay positive amongst people who live in the now and make the most of every moment.

Thank you for all the text messages of concern. Know that I'm always staying safe and am in good hands. Please continue to pray that things will sort themselves out quickly and painlessly for this beautiful country.

With all the Timorese love I can gather (plenty of it!),

Chris(still in East Timor, not Indonesia)

The neglectful Blogger!

Is it just me, or does everyone think I should provide a note from my Mum?

I am so sorry (to my regular readers) that I have been away so long...

However, I have a very good excuse.

This afternoon, John and I fly to Hinchinbrook Island, off the coast of Townsville, to join the cast and crew of a reality tv show.

I'm not sure i have official permission to give away full details of the show...so let's just call it 'Fat Camp'. It will be on channel nine later this year. Just a small hint, it's hosted by Deborah Hutton and once starred Ita Buttrose....getting warmer???

So far it's been a slightly scary experience. They only rang last Thursday to say they were considering us for the show. On Friday we went to Brisbane for an audition. Saturday they confirmed we were on the show and started asking a million questions...Tuesday we flew to Sydney for fitness tests, Thurday and Friday a camera crew followed us around the Sunshine Coast filming us eat, drink, shop, work and generally lead unhealthy lives.

So far so good by the way. It's been fun.

I've always wanted to go to bootcamp. And while it hurts me to say it...but I might as well, because you're about to see it on national tv...I am edging toward one hundred kilos.

And no, I don't know how that happened either. But I hate it. Sometimes (when I've just consumed a second helping of yummy thai takeaway) I even hate myself for it. But todays the day all of that changes.

10 days on Hinchinbrook being run ragged by two trainers and fed nothing but broth.

Then 12 weeks of strict discipline. And hopefully I lose at least 20 kilos. That's my goal. I know that still sounds horrific to most of you skinny minnies...but I would love to be 75 kilos. In fact, I would think I was a princess!

So wish us luck...I will try to blog while on the Island...give you a little update...I wish I was smarter and could down load pictures...but I'll tell you all about it.

See you when I'm skinny!

LOve Caroline

The Mummy Wars!

Is it just me or does everyone absolutely hate the Mummy wars?

To work or wait? Bottle or breast? Bake or buy? M, PG or maybe just G? Day-care or homecare? Social life or home life? In newspapers, on the radio and over the internet debate continues to rage. And in absolutely every case, somebody’s mother is being made to feel like she’s doing it wrong.

I’m not saying I don’t have an opinion on what makes a functional family, I have simply seen enough parenting ‘experts’ with unhappy kids to know there is no such thing as a magic formula.
The latest author to raise my ire is an American named Caitlin Flanagan. She writes for the New Yorker and I usually think she’s pretty smart and funny despite the fact she describes herself as an anti-feminist (if that’s even possible for a woman).

But she’s also too rich and too privileged for her own good.

Caitlin is the well coiffed wife of a Mattel executive, who proudly declares she only went back to work when her twins no longer needed her at home, yet she readily admits she had a full time nanny and has never changed a sheet, ironed a shirt or cleaned up vomit.

This same woman now makes a living telling women to stay at home and take care of their families, recently declaring, “When a mother works, something is lost.”

Caitlin is probably just stating the obvious (ask my kids, between us we’ve lost a million permission slips, library books and even the odd guinea pig) but without my wage, I think we would have lost something a little more serious, namely the house, so thanks for your concern Caitlin, but I think I’ll take it from here.

Like I said, I am never very interested in parenting ‘law’ written by people who see child rearing as an industry, but the next one to fall on my desk made me cack myself.

“I 'm too sexy for my Volvo: A mum's guide to staying fabulous," by Betty Londergan, is meant for "trendy, hip and fashionable, modern mothers [who] want it all -- personal style, great bodies and hot sex with their husbands." Told you you’d laugh.

Don’t get me wrong, I believe in the yummy Mummy, I look at you with envy and awe, but through either jealousy or generosity, I feel the need to point one thing out.

No matter how cool, hip, sik, phat or wicked you think you are, your kids would probably prefer you just act like their Mum.

Karen is the yummy mummy chosen to go on Big Brother this year (I think we might be about the same age by the way – which is obviously what’s upsetting me the most). When asked what her teenage kids thought of her decision Karen said “My kids say everyone at school already thinks I’m hot, so they’re not worried, this will just make them think I’m hotter.”

I swear, even if I looked like Kylie Minogue and had a lovely new rack like Karen’s, my kids would never never want to hear those words come out of my mouth.

But I’m a hypocrite, when I started writing I actually meant to say other people’s judgements were irrelevant to your family. Someone famous once said ‘Love is all you need’ and he was right. The rest of it should fall into place.

So I apologise Karen, you are hot. I am jealous.

But for those of you with a bum as big as mine, don’t cry, just bake your babies a cake, I promise they’ll think you’re pretty hot too.

And finally, because it’s Mothers’ Day I want to tell you something about my kids. I think they’re lovely. But they’re growing up too fast and I’m scared because they won’t be kids forever and I don’t think I’ll know what to do with myself when there’s no sheets to change or vomit to wipe.

I can look at the child boorishly refusing to turn the TV to a channel everyone wants to watch, and only see the girl who lifts the cover of her bed when her little sister has a nightmare and wants to get in.

I can flinch when the wounded nine year old howls so loud over sibling injustice my ears almost bleed, yet only hear her trampoline giggles which delight everyone they reach.

And I can watch that boy of mine walk toward me after work, looking more and more like a man everyday and only see the dimpled toddler in denim overalls and red boots, running at me not so long ago, crying ‘Up! Mummy! Up!’

Being a mother is my favourite thing to do, even when I’m not doing it exactly right.

The number of the beast!

Is it just me or does everyone wonder if they'll be hung up by the tongue today?

It’s the 6th of the sixth year of the new millennium….and while for some of us, that might just mean it’s Tuesday, for your crazy satanist or heavy metal freak it’s a little more exciting, the sixth of the sixth of the sixth is the number of the beast…the day satan is due to be reborn and unleash armageddon.

On a few websites this morning I found out quite a bit of information…

Apparently today we can all look forward to graves opening up and the dead walking the earth.

Blasphemers will be hung by the tongue…mmm….and women who dress in a suggestive manner may well be suspended by their hair over a bubbling mire. Glad I wore a long skirt today…

I think there is something in there about goats running amok too…but that’s just getting silly…

Something interesting about the number of the beast though; 666 is the sum of its digits plus the cube of its digits, it is the sum of the first seven primes, is apparently found hidden in every barcode and is the street address of Donald Trump's corporate headquarters.

For the record, the Pagan Awareness Network don’t believe in the devil, so they say you can disregard today…

Apparently, on the day they’re re-releasing Damien Omen… women have expressed a desire not to have a child today….not many ceasers scheduled around australia..

And the Catholic Church says not to worry….the sixth of june 2006 is not in fact the sixth of the sixth of the sixth anyway.

The calendar as we know it was actually concocted in the fourth century, and is known to be out by four years. Church spokesperson Father Richard Leonard said yesterday…. "We assume Satan knows that the sixth day of the sixth month in 2006 was in fact June 6, 2002," …so that means he’s been hanging around for two years already….hmmm