My Mother

For those who know me, you understand that sometimes, I can be a bit vague, sometimes, yes, I do silly things. Usually it’s just passed off as my Byron Bay/Mullumbimby trait, something that never got out of my system despite three years of living in the civilisation that is Brisbane, complete with a letter box, sealed road and neighbours who live next door and not in the next paddock 5 k’s away.

Well – I’ve got another reason for the weirdness. My mother.


My mother called me up a few days ago.

“Oh Jemma I was just talking to you,” she says.

Hmmm that’s a strange comment seeing as I haven’t spoken to her for about a week.
“Sorry Mum what was that?” I questioned.

“Oh Jemma I was just talking to you,” she says again.

I begin to giggle.... “Mum what are you talking about?”

Now I’ll interject here – a bit of background to my Mum, she’s an old time hippie, not overtly one anymore because she’s a bit older but in her hey day she was highhh up there. Living in India for a year, she was going to become a monk, she met my Dad in a communal house where everyone practised meditation, she got married in a blue and purple stripy dress, my parents used to take my brother and I to these weird camps where they worshipped a guru type man called Gurumaharaji.



Back to the story – after I asked her how she was talking to me, she answers “Oh Jemma I’m sitting on the veranda, looking at the mountains and the ocean and sending you all these thoughts and good vibes and connecting with you on another level.”

WHAT THE HELL??

And that’s not the end......

“Jemmy Jew, you’ve got to remember that you’re not this physical being, you’re not the person who goes to uni or goes work, you’re this inner being, this soul.”

And more..... “You’re not really Jemma Somervail ....”

To which I replied, while trying to contain the giggles “Well that’s a bit annoying
Mum, I’ve been introducing myself as Jemma Somervail for the last 20 years!”

She went on a little more about love, peace and the light, told me she loved me and said goodbye.

Leaving me, sitting totally bamboozled but highly amused.

Now I’m used to the whole...you’re not the physical body, it’s more than that, I’ve heard that from her my whole life. But I was not prepared for her to tell me about her new skill of telepathy!!!!

And on top of that, she usually says the weird stuff in the middle of a conversation, she always balances it out with, how’s uni going? How’s work? But she didn’t even care, she even ended the conversation with G.G.G.G.G - a saying she often uses which stands for God, Good, Guards, Guides and Governs you.

But if you’ve met my mother, she’s a lovely, warm and caring person, with so, so much love.

So....haha....now you know a little more about my day to day life...are we still friends??

Jugger anyone?

Picture this......

Lying on the grass at New Farm Park...chatting with friends...listening to the birds chirping... watching some kids kicking a soccer ball...letting the aroma from someone else’s bbq tease your taste buds.

Talk about a relaxing Sunday afternoon. My two friends and I thought so until.....
We were casually walking through the park, soaking up some sun as we went, BUT our relaxed atmosphere was interrupted by ten people hitting each other with bats, balls on chains and giant hammers.

It sounds like we walked from New Farm to the Bronx, but I’m serious, there were people hitting each other with a decent amount of force – even kids about eight years old were running around with mini bats and swords.

It made the Le Crosse game that was happening in the next field look like a massive pansy sport – which a lot of people would say it is anyway I guess.

Alarmed by this ‘sport,’ my friends and I decided to investigate.

As we approached, a woman wielding a metre long padded, duck taped sword greeted us.
Totally amazed at what we were looking at, the questions poured out in a rather awkward and probably rude way – ‘What are you doing?” “Is this a sport?” “Are you hitting each other on purpose?”

She was extremely accommodating – not offended by unguarded ramblings.

“We’re playing Jugger,” she said, as her other ‘team mates’ welcomed us to have a go as they passed my friend Josh a trident looking weapon, which towered above him.

She explained that ‘Jugger’ originated in Germany and was a sport where five ‘warriors’ compete against each other for the ‘prize,’ which is actually a dog’s skull.

But the game was very organised down at the park. There was even a board which explained what jugger was, ‘for annoying people like us who asked what the hell they were doing,’ Josh explained. From reading the board we discovered ‘jugging’ actually originated in Germany and was inspired from the movie The Salute of the Jugger – have you ever heard of this? I hadn't either.

The sport is massive though...there’s an international Jugger tournament and major teams in nearly 10 countries around the world. They’ve got a website and everything: www.jugger.org.au

She was just explaining the sport is safe and they encourage people to play even if they’re never played. On the flyer she gave me, it actually says, “All of our weapons are padded foam, but the excitement is real.”

My friend Steph – who always says the most appropriate things – responded to her reassurance of safety with, “Yeah well I think if I saw old mate with the beard running after me with a giant hammer, I’d run drop everything and run the other direction.’

And judging by this picture....I think she makes a valid point.


So if you’re bored in two Sundays from now (their next meeting), let me know and I’ll get my sword and ball ‘n chain and we can play some Jugger.