‘Who do you go for?’ She said handing me another piece of broken quartz …

‘Ah, do you mean, what is my state of origin?’ – knowing of course that that was exactly what she was asking.
‘M’huh’ she nodded.
‘Well I’m from the Blue Mountains in Sydney, so I’m from NSW, I’m a NSW boy .. and a ragged old one at that.’
‘Grrr .. mmn,’ she frowned or rather, scowled.

She was probably 8 years old and we were searching for sapphire. Well for any little rocks that looked pretty.

‘Is that what you mean, who do I go for?’

Her little sister, getting into the game, held another minute piece of some sort of rock up to me .. ‘This one, this one .. ?’
I said, ‘Well if you like it, if you think its pretty .. then its a good one – whatever it is – but its not a sapphire.’
‘Mmmn ..’ and she tossed it away.
I’m not much into rugby league, I’m a Union boy, a Waratah .. a flower from the south’ I said to the older one who was still scowling at me in disgust and not a little disappointment …
‘We love it!’ she said.
‘Well its all tied up so that’s good, isn’t it?’ said I.
‘It would be good if it was a tie … Then we could have golden point ..’
‘What’s a Waratah?’ asked the younger one.
‘Its our emblem. The emblem for NSW .. a very proud flower. And pretty … I think it would be better if you won it before that ..’ I smiled to Miss 8 as another piece of fish-tank gravel was pried into my hand.
‘What’s our emblem, Mum?’ asked Miss 6 …
‘Coal.’ said Mum, with a big smile at me. I laughed …
‘Ah yes, a big piece of maroon coal ..’ said I, grinning back at Mum. I say maroon, not marone .. being old and from the south.

I’ve been told I have a strong feminine side and here I was surrounded by young girls in the middle of a sea of ancient rubble. It seems to be my lot these days. Dad was totally disinterested in my presence … No, I’d say that that wasn’t true. I’d say that he was keeping a damned good eye on me bantering with his girls. He, of course, was searching for real diamonds, digging his own big hole. One of those fellas who, if I’d told him I was magic, that I knew; that I know; that I felt the glitter, and had said, ‘Dig Here!’ .. it would have been the very last place he would have dug. At least not until I was no longer there, and then he would have dug for all his life in the spot I’d recommended … Kind of gives one an understanding of why it took so long to find the Idiot Burke, eh.
Anyway, while Dad and the young master were hacking away at what I knew to be an old rubbish pit, the young ladies and Mum had followed me off into this field of dreams .. the place of pretty fish-tank gravel; where every little thing has a piece of its own beauty.

‘Ah, this is beautiful,’ Miss State of Queensland says, ‘ .. is this a sapphire?’ She holds up a large piece of old glass with an obvious delight in her eyes.
‘No.’ says I, ‘Its glass .. but, it’s a very nice piece of glass … ‘
‘Oooo’ she smiles, holding her very nice piece of glass up into the sun.
‘Careful .. you’ll go blind looking into the sun like that’ I say, as Mum takes her glass away and says,
‘ … And it could be sharp and you could cut yourself.’
‘Wouldnt it be good if it was a tie ..’ said Miss 8 again.

Its amazing how we can jump from one subject to another so fast and still maintain our separated trains of thought. I thought …

‘It can’t be a tie,’ I say, ‘its one each, and there’s only one left.’
‘Oh yeah’ she scowls, flashing that little piece of disappointment across her brow, as Dad yells over, ‘Time girls let’s go!’
Miss 6 says, ‘We play games in the car when we drive back home .. its fun. Dad always wins though …’
‘Ah, I’ve got a game for you to play then,’ I say in parting, ‘ .. ask Dad, ‘if nothing nuths?’

She squints up at me with another big smile, ‘You’re silly!’ she says.
‘Good luck’ says Mum, and she means it.
‘Oh I don’t believe in luck’ I answer, ‘I’ve taken luck completely out of the equation.’

All three of them smile at me, and as the girls run back up to Dad and the young master, and the monster truck, and the yawning dog, Mum smiles a big smile and says, ‘You are an idiot .. but a nice one. See ya.’

“This World is all a Cradle for the erred wandering Phantom.” – William Blake.