The Trailer Park
You're all wondering what the heck this means....
Years ago, perhaps six, I linked up with a small group of mothers and a grandmother, all with autistic kids.....we were part of the St John's University Autism List and gradually, as we became more raucous, we started to feel ostracised on the list (which was SO straight) and we broke away to become the hos of the mythical trailer park....a place where one can let one's hair down, talk about chocolate, box (cask) wine, fluffernutters and steal hooch from the still. We also hero-worship Jerry Springer.
It's been incredible to think that thirteen of us could bond so well. We're all from diverse backgrounds....two from Texas, two from Florida, two from New York, one each from Virginia, Delaware, Wisconsin, and a mother and daughter from the picturesque (remember Anne of Green Gables) Prince Edward Island, Canada. Our children run the full gamut of autism on the spectrum, from aspies to severe autism, some also with ADHD; one adopted autie also has cerebral palsy and a gastrostomy like Andrew. His wonderful adoptive parents deal with his ongoing medical problems - the result of Foetal Alcohol Syndrome. Some of the girls have linked up in person....I'm too far on the other side of the pond.
When our lives are just so stressed and cluttered, we escape into the trailer park and are suitably trashy. We have been able to swap advice and give support. I've been labelled the Tim Tam Goddess, dispensing dark chocolate or mocha TTs to my real-biscuit-starved mates...who now know that Oreos are not even a patch on a TT.
I think that the net has been a wonderful place in the sense that it can link friends into a close, supportive relationship...within the safety of a secure list where we can pour out our troubles and also have a little risque fun and indulge in cyber timtamslamming. An interesting thing is that we have swapped cultures....and my US mates have learnt a LOT about Aussie culture....even background info on the groundswell before the recent Iraq conflict, which was not widely reported in their media. Two of them had sons serving there. Australians are inundated with American culture and it's nice to export our lingo, photos of football speccies, cricket stories, even descriptions on the peanutty taste of a witchetty grub. (with a photo)
I have even sent golden syrup over with instructions on how to make Syrup Dumplings (Cocky's Joy) and Anzacs.
Hopefully, they'll soon be spelling arse correctly.