Red Dirt Diary 3 Read Free

knees haven’t been caked in mud since he started school last year, and it just didn’t look right. Ned Murphy had parted his hair at the side and slicked it down with oil. Dora had a big, blue satin bow sticky taped to her crew cut.

    The minute the bell rang at nine o’clock, the whole junior class lined up near the flagpole and stood to attention. They must be terrified of the Colonel. Harry stuck his shoulders back, chin up and chest out so far that he fell over backwards.
    The Colonel inspected ears, nostrils, fingernails, shoes, hair and handkerchiefs and bellowed out how proud he was to see such a shining group of soldiers.
    Mr Cluff’s senior students straggled inside looking like a mob of disorderly sheep. Mr Cluff is a sack of misery who can’t even be bothered to comb his own hair, let alone get enthusiastic about his students’ appearance. He’s pining for Miss McKenzie.
    Which is worse? A crazy Colonel who turns the students into an army of terrified little soldiers, or a misery-guts who doesn’t even seem to notice that his students exist? We really need Miss McKenzie back soon.
    Received two contributions for The Bake Tribune today. One was a story about a fairy, a kitten and two ponies from Grace Simpson. It’s called ‘A Fairy, a Kitten and Two Ponies’. The other was an unusual article about fruit from Ned:
    Fruit
    People like fruit.
    Fruit is yummy and it is good for you.
    But many people don’t realise that fruit can be dangerous.
    Is there anything funny or delicious about a prickly pineapple in an uncomfortable spot?
    I don’t think so.
    Next time you eat an apple, treat it with respect.
    Showed Mr Cluff so that he could see the ridiculous stuff the Colonel is teaching the little kids. He just stared into the distance and sighed, ‘Miss McKenzie loves apples.’
    HELP!!!
    Saturday, 28 April
    Woken at 4 am by Macka the alpaca’s squealing. Two foxes were hanging around the chicken coop. We shooed them away, but it’s only a matter of time before they sneak past Macka and steal the chooks. After all, they managed to get Gunther’s poor ducks.
    Wes and Fez are furious. They still cry when they think about the ducks being killed.
    â€˜Stinkin’ foxes,’ said Wes. ‘We’ll teach them a lesson.’
    â€˜Yeah,’ said Fez. ‘And we don’t mean six plus six equals fourteen!’
    Good grief.
    They spent the rest of the day making a pit trap near the chicken coop. They dug a deep hole and covered it with sticks, bark and leaves so it was invisible.

    Hope it works. I hate foxes.
    Sunday, 29 April
    Wes and Fez got up at 3 am and climbed onto the laundry roof to watch their pit trap in action.
    The foxes didn’t turn up. Wes fell asleep and rolled off the roof into a blackberry bush. He cried so loudly that he probably scared off every single fox this side of the Black Stump.
    Mrs Whittington disappeared today. We found her wandering around three paddocks away. She said she was going to help Dad shear the sheep, but Dad was way off in the opposite direction sowing canola. Gertrude, Mildred and Doris were with her and looked quite relieved to see us. I think they realise that Mrs Whittington should be at home where she is safe.
    Monday, 30 April
    The juniors marched around the edge of the schoolyard four times this morning. Worms was so hungry by the time they got into class that we could hear his tummy rumbling from our year seven study room. He ate all of his morning tea and lunch at recess — two bananas, three lamingtons, a tub of yoghurt, two cheese salad sandwiches, a boiled egg and a bottle of chocolate milk.
    Mr Cluff had to ring Mrs Love to bring some more food in for his lunch. Worms gets very emotional if he doesn’t get enough to eat.
    Had our first whole-school outdoor adventure lesson this afternoon. We were disappointed when the Colonel said we were going to learn basic first aid.