© irene waters 2018
© irene waters 2018
© irene waters 2018
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Irene Waters
Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist
I began my working career as a reluctant potato peeler whilst waiting to commence my training as a student nurse. On completion I worked mainly in intensive care/coronary care; finishing my hospital career as clinical nurse educator in intensive care. A life changing period as a resort owner/manager on the island of Tanna in Vanuatu was followed by recovery time as a farmer at Bucca Wauka. Having discovered I was no farmer and vowing never again to own an animal bigger than myself I took on the Barrington General Store. Here we also ran a five star restaurant. Working the shop of a day 7am - 6pm followed by the restaurant until late was surprisingly more stressful than Tanna. On the sale we decided to retire and renovate our house with the help of a builder friend. Now believing we knew everything about building we set to constructing our own house. Just finished a coal mine decided to set up in our backyard. Definitely time to retire we moved to Queensland. I had been writing a manuscript for some time. In the desire to complete this I enrolled in a post grad certificate in creative Industries which I completed 2013. I followed this by doing a Master of Arts by research graduating in 2017. Now I live to write and write to live.
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Reflections and Nightmares- Irene A Waters (writer and memoirist) 
If you hadn’t titled this, I wouldn’t have known what it is. A crab pot – so very cool. Though I bet some folks are thinking, yum, dinner, but I don’t care for the taste of crab.
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I like the taste of crab but I couldn’t be bothered with the effort of eating one. So fiddly. The calories burnt whilst struggling for your meal make you feel as though you are still in need of a meal.
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Now I’m laughing. Poor crabs – built those huge housing around themselves but still are plenty of fiddly folks willing to tear them apart – OK, getting too grisly.
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Yes too grisly. I’ll never forget the time we tried to cook some live slipper lobsters. Neither of us could do it and then one dropped on the floor and I screamed at Roger – “now you’ve broken him.” We were about to return them to the sea when our cook arrived and we left him to cook the poor little things. They were delicious by the way.
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I didn’t know that crab pots were a thing. If you hadn’t included a pic, I would have assumed that it was the latest hot entree at Red Lobster. 😉
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LOL. We get mud crabs here and we aren’t regulated enough to stop whoever wants to putting his pot in to catch his dinner. They seem to be all over the place.
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We call those crawfish around this way! 😉
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Wondering if we call them crayfish Jo.
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Very different from a lobster pot! I keep thinking it would make a nice wall decoration!
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Perhaps a lightshade.
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Interesting. Not a contraption or industry I’m familiar with.
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Used for catching mud crabs. Ours are all just people wanting a crab meal. Industry hasn’t taken over yet so there have been no forced regulations. Hopefully not enough to put the crab population at risk.
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That reminds me of places that catch crawdads for eating.
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I’ve never heard of a crawdad but perhaps it is what we call a crayfish.
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Yep! Same critter!
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