Free Red Dirt Diary 2 by Katrina Nannestad

and purple silk. There were the usual donkeys, cows, a camel and, of course, Wes and Fez in their pig chariots pulled by Doris and Mildred.
    Banjo launched the race with his latest poem, ‘Ode to the Australia Day Picnic Race’:
    Bacon, eggs and sausages,
    Aussie pride to share,
    Racing sheep and bikes and bulls,
    Advance Australia Fair!
    The starter gun exploded and they were off.
    Jed Murphy leapt from the tower in his hang glider and nose-dived straight into Mrs Love’s donkey. The donkey kicked and bucked, tossing Mrs Love into Sunshine’s beer-keg barrow. Miss McKenzie and Mrs Love screeched with laughter. Sunshine snarled and cursed, and refused to go on.
    Mr Murphy piggy-backed Mrs Murphy just five or six paces and had to put her down. Mrs Murphy didn’t want to give up that easily, so she threw Mr Murphy over her shoulder and continued to run around the race track.

    Harry and Dora Wilson were doing pretty well on their sheep until Tom Gillies’ kelpie slipped its collar and rounded them up into the schoolyard.
    Wes and Fez galloped to the front in their pigchariots, screaming and yelling like maniacs, but enough is never enough with those boys. Just as they looked certain to win, they pulled tea cosies onto their heads, stood up and started juggling oranges and pears. Doris veered across the track and knocked Davo and Gary off their BMX bikes. Mildred turned a full circle and ran back into the camel.
    Mrs Murphy chugged up from behind and took the lead, with Mr Murphy bobbing over her shoulder. Everyone started to cheer.
    Sammy Ferris caught up on his penny-farthing, but Mrs Murphy swung Mr Murphy around until his head caught Sammy in the guts, knocking him to the ground. The crowd went wild. Mrs Murphy waved and smiled, her face like a big, red tomato, dripping with sweat. She bulldozed on, crossed the finish line and dumped Mr Murphy on the grass. She waved her hands above her head like an Olympic champion.
    Everyone said it was the most spectacular win ever.
    The whole day would have been perfect, except that as we were leaving, Miss McKenzie apologised for the calls James had been making.
    Mum said, ‘What calls?’ but Sophie and I knew — the calls he had made to Italy, Denmark, Malaysia …
    Miss McKenzie sighed and said she hoped she’d done the right thing, cancelling the wedding.
    I was about to yell, ‘Too right you did!’ but Mat and Sophie shoved me into the car. Sophie told me to shut up. Mat threatened to tie me up in Sheba’s paddock when we got home if I interfered.
    What could I do? There would be no point in saving Miss McKenzie from a fate worse than death if I actually died myself …
    Saturday, 27 January
    Mat and Sophie kept me awake for hours last night, talking about boys and kissing and romance and LOVE. I wanted to puke even more than when I inhaled Sheba’s toxic gas the other day.
    They have all these rules about how to behave around boys that sound really stupid. The most important are:
    1. The Dumb Rule — Don’t act too smart or boys won’t like you . They don’t want you to make them look dumb. (That oneshouldn’t be too difficult for either Sophie or Mat!)
    2. The Food Rule — Never eat in front of boys, because it’s not cool . I asked if the boys are allowed to eat in front of the girls. Sophie and Mat both said, ‘Duh. Of course they can!’ I just don’t get it. Why can boys eat, but girls can’t?

    3. The Length Rule — Girls are supposed to have long fingernails, long hair and long eyelashes. I asked if long feet were good, feeling like there might be hope for me some day, if my brain ever turned to mush and I decided I actually wanted to fall in love. But they both scoffed and said that big feet were a DISASTER. Boys like dainty little feet.
    So, as far as I can see, your feet, appetite and brain have to be tiny. You have to pretend to be someone you are not , so that a