Glorious Giru Show needs to be protected

I BELIEVE in telling my girl the truth, I never exaggerate, so the conversation concerning the Giru Show, went this way …

Me: “Come to the Giru Show dear.” Her:

“What's to buy?” Me: “Plenty dear, it is Giru so they’ll still be selling slaves.” Her: “What’s to eat?” Me: “I think a Presbyterian minister this week”. Her: “Can we have a drink?” Me: “Of course, at the Giru International Hotel.” Her: “Stop it, there’s no International Hotel there!”

Unbelievable, believes slaves are sold and the poor ol ministers mince, but not the International Hotel. WELL, didn’t she get a shock when we stopped at the world famous establishment with the prehistoric barra in the case on the fridge. We loved it. I was reading on the case that it was caught in the ‘60s, when a bloke at the side of the bar put down his beer and said quite seriously. “If we get too many counter lunch orders, we may have to fillet him,” I laughed, looked around and bugger! He was serious, that’s Giru.

I took my Greek girl and her sister to this wonderful event, and they absolutely loved it, I did too. This is one of the last truly country celebrations and may it go on forever …. and longer. Spread out on the glorious green of Brolga Park, next to the mill (and the aroma of mill mud), it’s all for the celebration of life in a small country town nestled in the Tropical North. I’d told Barb that they only had one trestle table, three hotdogs, a rusty swing as the carnival ride (and a cane cutter doing piggy back rides, if he wasn’t at the pub) and the year before they’d lost the key to the hall which hadn’t been open since the last show, and they think the show president was still inside, because they lost him, too. I was naughty, she believed me, so when we rounded the corner to Carey St, she was ecstatic, it looked magnificent. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not the EKKA or Moomba, it’s better in itself. Small and fair dinkum. The machinery, the wood carving, the dancing, boot scooting of course (they were fantastic), cane comps, local plants (you don’t stand close or they’ll bite you), displays of every kind including a remarkable device they came upon only last week called the wheel!

Sincerely, the hall with its displays of fruit and veges, the flower displays, this is truly a visual treasure, and well done to dear Betty, the Treasurer, for her wonderful work over many years. I did say to Burdekin MP Dale Last and Mayor Lyn Mclaughlin, we must protect, even heritage list this show. We all know that flower arranging, fruit growing may not be top of the list for a new generation, but we have to keep it going somehow. I hear there’s a new very enthusiastic committee, so we wish them well for next year. Not sure of the date, they had this year written as MMXXII. They wrote it like that after we finally convinced them it was AD not BC. Thank you Giru, we loved every minute. Thank you Betty for the magnificent work you and the committee does, and young Tyrone who called me and told everyone how wonderful his home of Giru was, in between feeding the horses of course.

Happy days, ooroo.