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Animal lovers? Anyone?

10/1/2021

Something’s amiss.
As animal lovers, where did we go wrong?

We brought our kids up in country Victoria to give them a rural, nature-filled, animal-loving childhood, away from the cities.
Over the years we owned - and cared for - dogs and puppies, baby lambs, calves, cows, goats, chooks, a white mouse, a ginger cat, even a donkey and (of course) guinea pigs.

We went on outings to forests and farmlands to experience the environment and to see native animals in their natural habitat. We saw kangaroos, wallabies, wombats, koalas, turtles, and echidnas.
The kids seemed to love them all—the ones we had at home and the ones they saw out in the bush. We thought we had given them a love of nature as well as knowledge of how to care for creatures of every sort.

Our kids are well grown up now and have families of their own.
What animas do they have?
What animals are they caring for?
The answer is nil!

Our daughter lives on the Gold Coast in Queensland, in a big house that has no room for a pet of any sort.
Our son lives in UK with a backyard as big as a pocket handkerchief.
Animals? Pets?
Zilch!

Where did we go wrong?

Pedantic? Who, me?

2/1/2021

Recently, a publisher informed me that something I wrote was unacceptable, as it involved ‘old learnings’.
I was gobsmacked. Not because I thought he was wrong so much as I didn’t think that anyone with anything to do with (decent) writing would stoop to using such a word as ‘learnings’.
I had heard a politician use the word not so long ago and was mildly appalled; it is turning into a word that (to me) almost rivals the expression, ‘going forward’, that seems to have infiltrated so many announcements - and simply popped on to the end of every second sentence – and, indeed, now heard in general conversation.

I am now wondering if I am being too sensitive about words.
Am I Madame Pedantic?
I admit to keeping a 2B pencil by my side when I am reading and (gently) put a line through any typos I see.

Being a fan of Twitter, I occasionally see a misspelt word or a wrongly used phrase and shudder.

I tell myself that there are far more important things to worry about than small grammatical hiccups.

Recently a journalist was criticised for making fun of someone who made spelling errors. She was more than criticised; she was attacked! She was told to stop being a literary snob and was reminded, in no uncertain terms, that those who don’t have an advanced education are entitled to express their thoughts, without being laughed at, when their spelling does not measure up to someone who ‘thinks she’s smart’ – or words to that effect.

I felt sorry for the journo as well as whoever made the mistakes.

I don’t know why misspelled words and grammatical faux pas annoy me so much.
I honestly can’t help it!

Perhaps it was the old fashioned and strict teaching (NOT learnings) I experienced in my early school days. Perhaps it has expanded because of my 30+ years of being a schoolteacher. But it is imbedded in my DNA now, I fear. (There’s another frequently misused expression – as if your DNA sequencing can influence your ability to spell! Or can it?)

Here are a few annoyance-producing expressions and spelling faults:
Twice lately I have read about someone ‘towing the line’ instead of ‘toeing’ the line.

The use of I, where it should be me…. ‘It was a lovely gift for Jim and I’…NO, it’s ’Jim and me’ (take away Jim’s name & see how it sounds!) ‘Jim and I were thankful’ Yes, that’s okay!

Fewer/less… ‘Less people came to the park’ No, it wasn’t bits and pieces of people coming to the park…. It’s ‘fewer people came…’

And why have we stopped using the word ‘who’ when referring to people?
Who/that. People deserve ‘who’. It is not ‘I like people that give generously’ NO, it’s ‘I like people WHO give generously’.

Minor, though it may be, the phrase ‘thin end of the wedge’ was the original statement and is preferable to ‘thin edge of the wedge’ – even though the latter possibly sounds better.

A person wrote of politicians ‘full of dribble’ and I’m sure they meant ‘drivel’, but, then again, perhaps there was some dribble involved.

Then someone referred to the latest ‘poles’, when I think they were talking about ‘polls’…but I can’t be sure.

A recent spate of shouldn’t OF instead of shouldn’t have makes me grate my teeth. Only today, a tweet lamented if only someone could of done the right thing…aarrgghh!!!

The use of ‘impacted’ in place of ‘affected’ is so commonplace now, I can almost ignore it.

A frequent mistake is the confusion of your/you’re. That drives me crazy!

Then there’s Its/it’s – Please, people, there is NO possessive apostrophe in its.
It’s should only display an apostrophe when it is a contraction of ‘it is’.

I could go on……

Please don’t attack me. I can’t help it!

Just as I was writing this, I was made aware that our Prime Minister has praised ‘his’ people for being ‘overcomers’.
The word made my flesh creep – not only because it sounded like a made-up word, but it is a word connected to a weird and dangerous religious cult of which our PM seems extremely fond – connected, in fact. Now that really scares me!

Words do matter!

So this is (COVID) Christmas

24/12/2020

Christmas Eve is here and, in some places at least, there will be joyous family celebrations tomorrow.
I send my best wishes – laced with some sorrow - to the families who can’t get together because of the COVID-19 virus.
But we must face it, to leave yourself and family vulnerable to contracting this ghastly illness is far, far worse than missing out on a family gathering, no matter how awful and sorrowful you may feel about it.

But, cheerfully (crazy though it may be) on the other hand, many of us are assuming – albeit unconsciously and wrongly – that, once Christmas is over and a new year begins it will no longer be 2020 and all will be well. We will have left the old and dreadful 2020 behind! Phew! Thank goodness!

Of course, that’s not true at all…but…but, just for a day or two, let’s think it is true. Sure – don’t go taking any risks – but simply let your mind register that a new year is around the corner and it will be a great year; a year free of COVID-19 and a year of freedom from restrictions and mask-wearing and businesses losing their incomes and so on.
Let’s just fantasise that soon the ghastliness will all be finished, and life will be back to whatever our ‘normal’ was.
Let’s avoid the truth, suspend our disbelief, and stop worrying about the virus, but briefly!

On a personal note: I live in Queensland, where we are extremely fortunate to have no restrictions on where we go – as long as we don’t leave the state. Lucky us!
I am happy that tomorrow I will be enjoying Christmas lunch and gift giving with much of my immediate family.

Fortunately (or unfortunately) I have no elderly parents to be concerned about. To be truthful, I have taken up that mantle – I AM the elderly parent!

Unfortunately, my son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter are in the UK and we will only be seeing them via Face Time.
Britain, under Bumbling Boris, is in dire straits and it is very worrying! The area where my son & family live is not currently considered a ‘hot spot’, even though there were 323 new cases last week alone! YIKES!! It’s concerning.

As for Sydney – such a shame that a second (or is it third?) wave has arrived there.
And, yet, here, in Australia we are nowhere near the disaster that is UK or USA. Or those many other badly affected places around the globe.

So, let’s make the most of what we have. My sympathy to those who cannot be with family…but guess what? It’s not really the end of the world and let’s be certain that NEXT year will be better and brighter.

As much as you can, forget the awfulness of COVID and enjoy Christmas in whatever is the best way for you.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS to everyone.

The Magpies that came for breakfast.

17/12/2020

The weather had been extremely hot for weeks; the birds had even stopped singing.
And then the rain came. For days and days, it rained. Heavy downpours drenched everything around us.
And the birds stayed hidden in the thick foliage of the largest trees.

One very early morning, when it looked like the rain might ease, through the back door I saw two very wet and bedraggled magpies: an adult and a baby. They were on the veranda, looking through the glass at me and making sad little imitations of what is usually a beautiful warble.
It was then that I realised because I hadn’t seen them for quite a few days, perhaps they were hungry—because I had made a habit of feeding them a little each day.

The magpie feeding started gradually. Some mornings, when I sat outside eating breakfast, a magpie stopped by and I gave him a small piece from the edge of my toast. After a few days, another magpie came. They seemed friendly and often settled close by, waiting for scraps of toast.
I knew that bread wasn’t a good substitute for foraged-for food, so I didn’t give them too much.

Then a relative suggested a good muesli might be a better idea. But they weren’t so keen on that. Researching magpie food suggestions, I discovered that (if it was top quality) minced meat was a favourite.
Favourite indeed!

Minced steak? They loved it! The magpie family came to spend (musical) hours on my back veranda. Waiting and watching. They stayed so long that every piece of outdoor furniture ended up with streaks of bird-dropping decorations.
Sometimes the magpies collected a small wad of mince in their beaks and flew away into the tall gum tree over the back fence. I should have known!
Next thing, they brought their whingeing baby along and, as he squawked, they filled his wide-open beak…over and over again.

Now I had three magpies, all wanting food. They loved the meat! They followed me when I was outside. They watched me through the kitchen window and became excited when they saw me go towards the fridge. If I left the back door open, I would often find a magpie walking around the kitchen.
It was getting out if hand!

But then, some more (Google) research led me to believe that minced steak should NOT be given to magpies—especially young magpies.
What to do?

A little more searching revealed a recipe suitable for magpie food. A recipe!
This involved: tinned puppy food, wheat germ, baby cereal, bird seed (for wild birds), chopped parsley, hard- boiled egg and something called calcium carbonate (which I think is carb soda – but I didn’t include that).
After a trip to the supermarket, I made up a mixture and rolled it into small sausage shapes, some of which I froze.

The next day I sensed a disappointment in the magpies’ demeanour. They were not impressed with the new diet.
But, for the magpies’ health I would no longer feed them mince. I sprinkled more wild bird seed mix over the sausage thing and there was a bit of interest.

Days went by. The magpie family still visited but the mince-induced excitement and enthusiasm had evaporated.
I put the special food on a patch of grass near the veranda – with extra seed – and eventually my magpie family accepted that this was the food from me now.
Each day they came and ate what I put out for them. They still perched on the outdoor furniture, but not as often or for as long. I missed their singing.

The baby learned to eat by itself and all was well with my conscience about feeding wild birds.

The most interesting thing about the new feeding regime is that, once the magpies have had their fill of recipe-based food, the beautiful water dragons who live around us, come and finish off the scraps.
What could be better?
PS: The magpie in the photo is the baby.

War? Why?

7/12/2020

What does it take to realise that war is futile? Any kind of war.

Reports of (alleged) atrocities committed by Australian Special Forces against unarmed – and sometimes very young – Afghan citizens is sickening.

Then there are the stories of Australia’s returned ‘veterans’ taking their lives in unimaginable numbers, after returning home.
There is something terribly wrong here!

We reportedly have ‘our’ soldiers shooting civilians – let me rephrase that – ‘our’ soldiers murdering Afghan civilians and ‘our’ soldiers suffering terribly from what they have done and what they have seen.

We constantly hear of veterans suffering from PTSD…that’s POST TRAUMATICE STRESS DISORDER. Let’s check those words:
Post = ‘after’. That is, AFTER something has occurred.
Traumatic = ‘ causing severe and lasting emotional shock and pain’
Stress = ‘pressure, tension, strain’
Disorder = ‘disruption, upheaval, tumult’.
Do you see? PTSD is not just a glib expression to describe worried soldiers, it is a declaration of what happens to people after being exposed to war situations or other trauma.

Let’s mull over the futility of war:
Just one example of war’s pointlessness:
Australians and Japanese are great and helpful friends – as nations.
Quoted in the news in July of his year: ‘The Australia–Japan partnership is our closest and most mature in Asia…’
And yet, in the 1940s, my father and my husband’s father left their families, and spent months and years in appalling conditions in the NT and New Guinea protecting Australia from the Japanese.
That didn’t end well for anyone, especially the Japanese, after being obliterated by atomic bombs.

By no means am I suggesting that we should ignore or malign Japanese folk. What I am trying to point out is that, once upon a time – not so very long ago - we were deadly enemies and now we are best friends. That seems to be often the case with warring nations – eventually.

Sure, some wars are never-ending and these disputes are even more ridiculous. If a dispute is impossible to settle, even after decades of fighting and killing people who are different, or have differing views, then what’s the point?
It is like a grotesque version of Dr Seuss’s children’s story book about the Sneetches, when there were ‘Sneetches’ who were envious of ‘the other’ – in this case those who wore stars.
It’s a story we can learn from.

The memory of the futile and deadly war in Vietnam is still in the forefront of many Australian minds, and yet Vietnam is currently one of Australia’s favourite holiday destinations.
What the hell did that awful war achieve?

Remember John F. Kennedy’s famous quote?
“Mankind must put an end to war before war puts an end to mankind.”
Truer words have seldom been spoken.

And just think of all the BILLIONS of dollars that are spent on war, war ‘machines’ and the thousands of army personnel.
The world would have no homeless people, no impoverished people, no hungry people if money was spent on helping humans to live, not to kill.

What with us obliterating the planet by ignoring Climate Change - and making wars a perpetual way of life and cruelty, there’ll be nothing left soon.

“I do not know with what weapons World War 3 will be fought, but World War 4 will be fought with sticks and stones”, (Albert Einstein purportedly said).

Think on that!

"We all live in a ..." Whose money is this?

21/11/2020

Here I am, again, moaning. There’s so much to whinge about lately … (IMHO)

In all the ‘News’ about Corona Virus, appalling armed forces' behaviour, inexcusable ‘Robodebt’ cruelty and lack of dealing with Climate Change, there’s one other matter about which I am steaming with rage.

I’m complaining about the $80 billion Australia has committed to spend on submarines… soon to be redundant submarines, by the way.
However, the PM claims that they are important for “Australia’s strategic environment”. Hmmm.

The $$$$$$ to be spent on those mythical national security required (?) submerged warships is an abhorrence to me. It is a HUGE amount: an amount (if we genuinely had it) hat could remedy many, if not ALL, of our country’s ills.

Have a think about how current wars are conducted and you will probably notice that submarines play an infinitesimal - or no part at all.
Now it’s all guided missiles and other evil stuff. (Remember WMD?) Weapons that do not require sailors spending weeks underwater in a submarine, chasing, while hiding, from ‘enemies.

And did I mention that the $80 billion submarines were already redundant? Sorry, yes, I did.
They are so out of date that parts of them are suspected of not being able to work as intended anymore – and this is before they have even been built!
And, by the way, technology has progressed so far that submarines will soon not be able to stay undetected under water. What that means is that they are useless as a deterrent or a protection.
Let me say that word again: useless.

Anyway, back to the $80 billion.
That’s $80 BILLION, by the way. Yes, eighty BILLION dollars, not million.

Gee, I wonder what Australia could do with $80 BILLION?

Let’s see…Right now, in Victoria alone, there is a sixteen-year waiting list for public housing. (Thankfully, Victoria is aiming to fix that a little). But you could still be dead waiting to have a roof over your head if you find yourself in dire circumstances.
I’m not good at maths, but even I could manage to work out that even one billion dollars could probably build more than 2 000, that’s two THOUSAND, (genuinely nice) homes. Wouldn’t that be nice? Imagine what TWO billion could build. THREE billion?

THEN…How about that not-very-efficient NDIS, set up to help disabled people? It’s not going very well from all reports, but…but, say it was given a boost of a billion dollars – maybe that would help? How about TWO billion? Immensely helpful.

Maybe if nurses and public health doctors – and the hospitals they work in – were given a multi-billion-dollar boost to maintain the health of our nation, including the ever-needy mental health departments. Just imagine!

I could go on…and on….and on….

In case you’d like to know more, here are some facts:

Defence officials knew Australia's new fleet of attack submarines would cost almost $80 billion as early as 2015, despite publicly stating at the time the estimated price tag was $50 billion. (SMH), (This is for 12 subs…)
BUT,
More like $225 billion to maintain – some claimed in 2019)

BTW, Construction of these things has yet to be begin…
“Construction of the first Future Submarine was expected to commence in 2022–23 and is scheduled to enter service around 2032–33”
So, we will be waiting at least another 12 years before they are even in the water. A lot can happen in those 12 years.

But wait…a few weeks ago, it was announced that “construction of the submarines was scheduled to begin in 2024”. In FOUR years’ time?
So, they are now a further two years behind schedule.

AND then there’s this…. “The SEA 1000 submarines are predicted to remain in service until the 2070s.”
The 2070s??????
I doubt if any nation will be using – needing – subs in 50 years’ time, even if we haven’t already obliterated the entire Earth, with the effects of Climate Change.

So…can anyone please tell me what wisdom there is in spending EIGHTY BILLION DOLLARS on such a folly?

IS THERE ANY HOPE OF STOPPING THIS?

I apologise for not remembering where this quote (below) originated, but it is very telling:

“It is hard to believe that a government genuinely committed to defending the nation would sign a contract to buy 12 ludicrously expensive submarines that would not be operational for at least 20 years, with the final submarine not ready for nearly 40 years. The fleet will be obsolete before its delivered.”

Favourite benefits of fresh air.

7/11/2020

For over thirty years, I lived in a house on an acre of land. Stretched across part of the wide back yard was a washing line. At each end of this was a sturdy post that held an adjustable cross bar, from which came two strands of strong (plastic covered) clothesline, each stretching for about fifty metres.
At about midpoint on these lines resided two tall clothes ‘props’ – strong, but lightweight and straight branches from eucalypt trees, culled for the purpose, with forked tops. The purpose being to lift, or prop up, the lines as high as possible, after the washing was securely pegged.
I loved that clothesline.
On warm windy days, washing would be fluttering, horizontal, flat out, quickly drying. Conversely, on rainy days, clothing would flap around furiously, only to eventually settle down and dry nicely – and so fresh and clean - once the rain stopped. Items left out overnight during a frosty winter would be rigid in the morning and almost in danger of breaking at a touch if you were not careful.
During many days, kookaburras came to perch, and laugh, on the clothesline end posts.
Now, that was a clothesline! As I said, I loved it!

I have decided that I could never live in a house or apartment that did not have an outdoor clothesline. The benefits of outdoor washing lines are many: Perhaps number one should be the saving on power needed to artificially dry clothes, and that is true. But, I also love the way, no matter what else you have to do, you need to find time to go outside in the fresh air and undertake and action that requires very little brain power and just a little exercise. Just to enjoy the air, reach up from basket, peg, to line until all is swinging in the (hopeful!) breeze,
In summertime, the dried washing can be brought inside whenever you have the chance to once more step outside into the fresh air. There you can stand, mind emptied of worries, unpegging, and folding beautiful fresh clothes, sheets and towels.
Sure, if you’re working an eight-hour job, a midday check of the washing might be well-nigh impossible, but, lucky you if you can have any bring-in-the-washing time at lunchtime.
Smell the cotton and linen. Nothing, absolutely nothing, can give that sunshiny smell to fresh washing, other that sunshine and fresh air.
I cringe at the thought of one day having to downsize to apartment living and have to transfer items from a washing machine straight to an electric dryer. I cannot even contemplate such a thought.

Cane Toads by torchlight

1/11/2020

It’s 9.30 pm and my husband is outside, in the dark - a bright beam from his hand-held torch shining in front of him. Neighbours probably wonder what this man is doing at around the same time, every night. ‘Is his wife nervous and needs assuring that there are no criminals or strange animals out in the yard?’

No. He’s looking for cane toads.

Before we left Victoria to come and live on the south east coast of Queensland, we knew about the dreaded cane toad and how it was wreaking havoc with our wild life; killing much of anything that tried to eat it and eating things that were needed by our native species. We read about its poison gland and saw pictures of it in all its ugliness.
We read about how colonies of this awful pest were marching forever westwards, and reports were telling that it had reached the magnificent and precious Kakadu National Park.*

We had visited Kakadu a few years earlier. We had clambered up the steep escarpments and admired and swooned over the views and the bird life.
The thought that cane toads could be infiltrating this beautiful part if Australia was almost too hard to bear.

We decided that, when we became Queenslanders, we would join what we imagined would be hundreds of Queenslanders joined in their efforts to eradicate this awful menace.

After settling into our Gold Coast home, we brought up the subject of the cane toad, only to be met with strange looks and a sort of ‘who cares?’ attitude.
‘There aren’t many around here’, said some.
‘You occasionally see a squashed one on the road, but that’s about all’.
Oh.
Why would there be cane toad bodies, squashed on the road, if there weren’t many around?
I wondered.
They must come out at night was the answer.
‘Do you ever look outside, after dark?’ I asked.
‘Nah, there aren’t any here.’

So, that’s when my husband started his nightly rambles by torchlight.
The result? Cane toads – big ones, small ones, middle-sized ones – cane toads in our suburban Gold Coast yard.

As he finds them, he gathers them up (carefully) into plastic bags,
Then, what does he do with them? You may well ask.

The plastic bags containing toads go into the fridge, where the toads go into a sort of hibernating sleep.
Once they are well asleep (usually the next day) they are transferred to the freezer, where the tranquil sleep turns into something more than a doze - and they slip into a painless death.
And, then what?

Well, when the human food in the freezer seems to be in danger of being crowded out by frozen cane toads it’s time to deliver the frozen catch.
To where?

There’s a not-for profit organisation called, “Watergum” – where a dedicated group of volunteers “help the community engage in real, on-ground work to restore, maintain& protect the natural environment”.….There’s lots they do
And one of their tasks is…
“The Cane Toad Challenge - a revolutionary new method of cane toad control that uses the toad’s own toxins against them. Lures made from toxic cane toad glands tempt tadpoles into traps that can catch upwards of 4000 in one go”.
So, that's where we take them.
Thank you, Watergum !

At least we have found one group of Queenslanders doing their bit to help rid us of the cane toad.

BUT….My question to other Queenslanders - and Northern Territorians is:
Why isn’t EVERYONE out and about EVERY night trying to rid us of this bloody toad?
There’s only so much one old bloke and a torch can do!

Try it!

*……….Biodiversity in Kakadu National Park has been "decimated" by cane toads in recent years, with some species disappearing from sight altogether, according to one of the NT's leading toad experts. (ABC Feb, 2019)

Two Months Early!

27/10/2020

What are we doing?

What is this ‘wishing away our lives’ thing?
Last week, as I drove along the nearest main road, I was stunned to see Christmas banners fluttering from electricity poles.
Different messages, but all variations of “Merry Christmas”.

It’s October! OCTOBER!

As of today, we are two calendar months away from Christmas Day.
When I first saw the signs, it was approximately 11 and a half weeks – or about 80 days — until Christmas Day.

Why are we aiming our thoughts towards a day as yet quite distant? There must be a thousand other deeds and thoughts to occupy our minds other than that! Yes, I know that perhaps it is a happy distraction from the woes of Covid…but…

I feel for the poor children. They’ll see the Christmas signs and think that Christmas is almost here.
What an interminable wait for them.
When you’re a little kid, a week can seem like a month, a month, a year! 80 days? Forever!
Should Advent calendars now come out, ready to count off the days? Will someone design an 80 day "Advent" calendar, do you think? (With no idea what 'Advent' is)

Someone told me that the supermarkets are now selling Christmas goodies, such as mince pies and puddings. WHY?

Are we wishing away our time on Earth? Is there nothing to look forward to, other than Christmas?
Sure, I know that the year 2020 has been a bastard of a year. Covid has not been fun for anyone, but does this mean that the only thing to lighten our mood is to hope the weeks go by quicker than ever?

But, of course, it’s the commercial aspect. Time to get ready, folks, to spend, spend, spend…
Off to the shopping centres — or start spending online. Get into the spending mood; Christmas is coming.

Does everyone have plenty of money to spend? Now, there’s a sticky question. (But we won’t go there).

Only a couple of months away, now.

And, what was it that’s started this Christmas thing? Can hardly remember. Something about angels and a baby? Or was it something about Cadburys chocolate? Maybe Myer? Or just banners from light poles?

Oh, my… What would Jesus think?

An un-fairy story

18/10/2020

We all know fairy stories. Here’s an un-fairy story.

Once upon a time in a kingdom known as Auz, there was an emperor called Clotty, who had two daughters, whom he loved very much. He constantly gave them everything they wished for – and even some things that they didn’t wish for.
“Aw, c’mon, Daddy,” they said to him the day he built them a cubby house. “That cubby is for three-year-olds. We’re much bigger than that”, and they laughed at him.
So, next he built them a henhouse. But it was too small, and he foolishly built it in a place where hen houses were not allowed.
“Silly Daddy!” said his daughters.

Clotty still wanted his girls to have everything they asked for. They had presents galore. He even invited BOTH their grandmas to come and live with them, so the grandmas could spoil the girls as well. And their Mummy’s best friend came to stay often, and she gave the girls even more attention and presents.
Lucky, lucky girls!

But Clotty was not kind, loving and generous to all little girls. He was especially mean and cruel to two sweet little girls who once lived in a country town in Auz. He sent these little girls away, far from their home and all the friends who loved and cared for them. Clotty’s mean and nasty helpers put the little girls on a plane with their mummy and daddy and flew them over the sea to a horrible hot place, with wire fences - and where there are guards to watch them and tell them where they can go and what they can do.

When nice, kind people objected and asked Clotty why he did this, he and his mean and nasty helpers said it was because the little girls’ mummy did not sign a special piece of paper she was given many years ago. Clotty said that the little girls and their mummy and daddy had to be punished and must soon go and live somewhere else - over in a very scary place.
The little girls did not know the scary place, as they had lived in the kingdom of Auz all their lives. They were little Auzzies, through and through.

“When can we go back to our friends and the house that we loved?” the little girls kept asking their mummy and daddy. But their mummy and daddy could only sigh and tell them that they didn’t know.
And there were tears.

The family became sadder and sadder. There were many people who loved and cared for them and those people also became sadder and sadder. And then became angry.

Lots and lots of folk in the kingdom of Auz were also extremely upset. They wrote letters to Clotty and sent messages to his mean and nasty helpers, asking for the little girls and their mummy and daddy to be able to come back to their home in the country. But the mean and nasty helpers just grinned their awful grins and rubbed their hands and said, “No way.”
“We like to have some people locked away”, they said. “Especially those with brown skin.”
And, as they were saying this, they gave their own children presents and treats – and hugged them.

And so, unlike most fairy stories, this un-fairy story does not have a happy ending. A happy ending will have to wait for an emperor who not only loves his own children, but who can also learn to love other children too.

But I guess it won’t be Clotty.

Is that a light at the end of this tunnel?

28/9/2020

Endings.
Maybe there’s something lovely at the end of the rainbow. I’ve been looking, but I can’t even find the rainbow.
How about the light at the end of the tunnel? Even that is hard to see.

I’m talking about the end of Covid19.

In February of this year, we had plans for a road trip from Queensland to Victoria, taking in some of our favourite places in outback NSW as we travelled. We had arrangements to visit friends and relatives in Victoria and had booked some Airbnbs and cabins for stops along the way. BUT as we were packing our bags, we felt an unease, as news of a horrible Corona virus appeared.
Should we go? Should we stay, wait, and see how serious it is? Should we cancel our bookings? Should we cancel all thought of a traveling holiday?

And we did – cancel, that is.

What a disappointment. But there was worse to come as we realized the severity of the virus and its far-reaching effects.
And, now here we are, seven months later, and I’m looking for the light at the end of the COVID tunnel.

To be honest, as we live in Queensland, the situation is not as dire as it is in some other states. We must be grateful for that - and perhaps there is a glimmer of light at the end of our tunnel.

Victoria’s tunnel has been long and dark, with hardly a tiny glimmer at its end. But just yesterday some of its more stringent restrictions were eased, and so, with that news, the whole of Australia is starting to look a little hopeful, even though the cost has been extremely high. 27,000 people have been infected and, the ghastliest count of all - the number of deaths is calculated at 870. Too sad to contemplate.

However, we have a personal worry as we have family living in UK. Over there the infection rate is currently nearing 50,000 per day. Let that sink in! 50,000 people diagnosed with the virus, EVERY DAY! The UK death count, hovers just over 42,000 (so far). How can that be? It should be unacceptable; unacceptable to the people and certainly unacceptable to those in charge, especially their PM.

Oh, but Boris Johnson is offering ways to alleviate this. One of the new restrictions is to make pubs close early! Yes, still go to the pub, but please leave by 10 pm. Is that really going to help lessen the numbers of infections?

Of course, he has another plan, one that will come into effect by next March – next March! And this plan is to test every person – yes, EVERY PERSON - and those who are tested as COVID-free will be permitted to go about their usual activities, such as work, thereby keeping the economy going.

I can only gasp with disbelief.

Yes, a vibrant, functioning economy is vitally important, but should it be considered more important than lives? Apparently the answer is yes.

Let’s not even go to the US facts. (Seven million infected, to date) and Mr Trump says it’s nothing much and will soon “go away”.

Great!

So, I guess I shouldn’t be worrying about our holiday plan cancellation. There are far, far worse effects than our little blip.

Stop worrying. Just STOP IT!

30/8/2020

As I scroll through Twitter, emails, and news sites, I find so much talk of COVID-19 and its limitations on life - and the scary implications that it “could happen to you”. And, of course it could happen to anyone – even if most precautions are observed. But I am, like most people, tired of all this.

A walk in the park seems like a good idea.

It is late afternoon and a pale three-quarter moon is looking down from a clear blue sky. There is a cool wind blowing but enough last rays of a fading sun touch my back and make me feel good.

The lorikeets and noisy miners are squeeping and squawping in the trees and flying all about. Though their noise is loud and boisterous, they are welcome company.

I continue walking for 30 minutes. The smell from the tall eucalypts is just enough to tease my senses and, as I turn for home, I start to relax. A little girl in a pink dress and bare feet, runs over to a small slide, giggling as she goes.

With this vision, my afternoon walk has almost been made complete and I go home with a vow to keep off electronic devices for a while.

As I walk into my kitchen, I see that my husband is putting the finishing touches on a beautifully round pizza.

I sigh with contentment.

No more worries – for now.

Go away, COVID-19. You are not wanted.

In memory of Pete

10/8/2020

Remembering my brother, Pete, born disabled, seventy-five years ago, today; the day a bomb was dropped on Nagasaki.
Pete lived for sixty-three years and I offer the following in his memory.
(Adapted from: Beatitudes for Disabled People… by Marjorie Chappel)

Blessed are you who take time to listen to defective speech, for you help us to know that if we persevere, we can be understood.
Blessed are you who walk with us in public places and ignore the stares of strangers, for in your companionship we find havens of relaxation.
Blessed are you, when by all these things you assure us that the thing that makes us individuals is not our peculiar muscles, nor our wounded nervous system, but is the God-given self that no infirmity can confine.
Blessed are those who realize that we are human - and don’t expect us to be saintly just because we are disabled.
Blessed are those who pick things up without being asked.
Blessed are those who understand that sometimes we are weak and not just lazy.
Blessed are those who forget our disability of the body and see the shape of our soul.
Blessed are those who see us as a whole person, unique and complete, and not as a “half” or one of God’s mistakes.
Blessed are those who love us just as we are without wondering what we might have been like.

LEST WE FORGET. Darwin. Seven decades on. A letter to a soldier.

31/7/2020

Next Thursday, August 6, it will be 75 years since the atom bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. Three days after that day, on August 9, 1945, a bomb landed on Nagasaki, leading to the Japanese surrender on August 15.
(The official signing of the surrender took place on September 2, 1945).
It was a war that cost Australians an estimated $74 billion— and many lives.
It is perhaps timely to remember this war and the part Australia played.

We may think of World War 2 in terms of British and German involvement. Some of us also think of Pearl Harbour and Hiroshima. Not many people instinctively think of the Northern Territory when the subject of the war is broached, and yet there are at least 800 war sites: air strips, ammunition depots and soldier tent sites, in the N.T..
And, no, this was not WW1, Gallipoli, where thousands lost their lives, it was WW2, in Darwin, our Australia.
Troops numbering approximately 250,000 were stationed in the Northern Territory at some stage during the war years. Many lives were lost; many young men were permanently scarred.

Not so long ago, on a visit to the War Memorial at Adelaide River in the Northern Territory, in amongst hundreds of graves, I found a headstone with the date of a young soldier’s death matching the exact date of my birth. I felt unsettled and, ultimately, somehow attached to him.

I have written that soldier a letter:

To: Sapper J.D.Gyton, N202639, 23 Field Company, Royal Australian Engineers.

Dear John,
You’ve been gone for over 70 years now. We never had the chance to meet because you died on the very day I was born. I don’t even know where you lived.
Just a name and number are on the brass plaque that I discovered in the Northern Territory’s Adelaide River War Memorial Cemetery.

I’m not usually one to visit war memorials, but this one time I did, and I was not prepared for the wave of grief that swept over me. As I read the words on the plaques, I felt something like a punch to my gut and found it hard to swallow the sobs that threatened to erupt.
You were 21 when you died, John. It was World War 2 and you were just a boy. But there were graves of others with ages listed as 18 and 19. There was even a grave for a seaman of just 16 years.
What a truly awful war. But then, has any war ever been less than awful?

My father, though slightly older than you, was also in the Australian army during World War 2. And in the Northern Territory too.
At the end of the war, he came home to us and I, as a three-year-old, didn’t know who he was.
But, lucky us! We were fortunate that he had been in Katherine when you were in Darwin. ‘Though Katherine was also on the receiving end of bombs.

Dear John, I think of when my own boy was 21 - a few years back now, and I wonder how I would have dealt with the fact of his death at that age.
On the little plaque, under your name and army details, are the simple words, “In loving memory of my darling son John.”
How did your mother cope? Why is your father not mentioned? Were you your mother’s only child? Did you have sisters and brothers? What about grandparents?
A sweetheart?
How they would have missed you and grieved.

How did you die, John?
I searched the Internet for details and found the word “accidental” as the cause of your death. Whatever happened to make your death “accidental”? You died in the May of 1942, right in the middle of hundreds of Japanese bombing raids on Darwin.

Conservative estimates of the numbers killed during that time put the servicemen tally at 432 and the number of civilian “casualties” at 63. That’s almost 500 people. Five hundred!
Were you one of the many caught up in the panic and un-preparedness of the Australian military? Did you overturn an army vehicle in your haste to reach a position of defence? A place of refuge? Did part of one of the many bombed buildings collapse upon you?
It is now supposed that many more were killed in Darwin than those reported. You were just one, but you were still someone’s son.

If you had lived, you would be over 90 years old now. Would you have lived that long— maybe a great grandfather.?
But you had no chance for anything like that.
Your life was severed at the tender age of 21. To use the word “waste” is too much of a cliché as well as an understatement.

To see my date of birth on a cemetery plaque indicating your date of death shocked me. It made me ask more questions about what happened in Darwin in 1942. The information I gathered shocked me even more. I discovered that the government of the day fudged the figures so that people wouldn’t be alarmed. “Don’t worry”, they said, after the first two raids by the Japanese, “only 17 people were killed”. In fact, 243 lives were lost in those initial raids. And between 300 and 400 wounded.
The air attacks on Darwin continued for nearly two years and the city was bombed 64 times. Was the government still saying, “don’t worry”?

And why are we still making wars?
You died in a war on the day I was born and now I’m an old grey-haired grandmother, and still people kill others by the hundreds in “just” wars.
Will we never learn?

I have never believed in such things as reincarnation, but have sometimes wondered if people’s souls, adrift in the ether, are able to influence other souls as they pass “in transition”, so to speak.
As I entered this world as a baby, could a whisper from your departing spirit have made its way into the new life that was mine?
And, if it did, I hope I have lived my life as you would have wished. Perhaps that whisper for the soul helped me along the way. Perhaps that is why I am a pacifist.

Dear John, you, and those other (at least) 494 people who were killed in the attacks on Darwin, paid the unthinkable and ultimate price all those years ago.
Was it worth it?

I have always been outspoken against war. As a young woman, I marched in moratoriums against the war in Vietnam. But your small bronze plaque has affected me more than any other anti-war message.

Dear Sapper John Gyton, I’m so sorry that you had to die, but now you have become a part of me. I will never forget your name.

To mask, or not to mask In Queensland? - BE PREPARED!

26/7/2020

I am measuring and cutting pieces of fabric, while following instructions on YouTube. On one hand, I cannot believe what I am doing, on the other hand, it is strangely interesting - and almost a nice way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
I am making face masks for the off chance (or inevitability?) that COVID19 will reach the area where I live.

I am in Queensland, a place almost unaffected by the onslaught of the horror virus infecting and killing others in the country where I live. And all over the world.

Members of my family, in the state of Victoria, are ‘in lock-down’ - and petrified. They are staying at home, staying indoors, becoming bored and depressed.
All they can do is be extremely patient, stay away from other people and, occasionally, when their food supplies run low, make a cautious and hurried trip to the nearest (sometimes smallest) supermarket.
Their current situation is far from ideal, but the alternative is risky and horrifying.

I am hoping that our turn will not come, but I will sew some masks – just in case.

BE PREPARED! As they say.

Are we humans next? Extermination? Our Turn?

19/7/2020

How many species of animal life have been obliterated by mankind?
How many species are now extinct?
It’s many, many more than the Tasmanian Tiger.

According to John Woinarski of Charles Darwin University, “Over the last two hundred years at least 34 Australian mammal species and 29 birds have become extinct," (Pacific Conservation Biology – 2018).

A 2014 study claimed Australia's mammal extinction rate was the world's highest, with more than 10 percent of species wiped out since Europeans settled the country two centuries ago.
The main causes of species decline that have been identified include habitat loss, such as through land clearing and other development — and feral cats and foxes.

This did not mention the horrific loss of wildlife in the recent bushfire disaster.

It’s not just Australia, of course: “one eighth of the world’s species – more than a million – are threatened with extinction”. (The Conversation)

And here’s something horrible: from a report in today’s Guardian: The bacteria in humans that has grown resistant to antibiotics has more than likely made its way into wildlife? (that means our sewage has leached into oceans and elsewhere! Erk!)

Imagine how that is affecting marine life.
Or - plants, trees, whole forests, wetlands, we could go on….
Humans have done this!

Now, take time to research the loss of habitat, resulting in the loss of animal life that has occurred since, say, 1950. It’s inestimable.

Sure, we have also killed a lot of humans on the past 100 or so years, using war as an excuse.
Or starvation – often connected to war – or disease.

The popular theory is that man is the superior being here on our planet.
Human Beings are generally thought of as the most important entity in the universe. (Sometimes referred to as humanocentrism).

But then…Hello, COVID19!

Is COVID19 telling us that it’s now OUR turn to feel the heat of possible extinction?

We have exterminated animal species willy nilly over centuries, culminating in tremendous losses over more recent years.
Even our beloved koala has been threatened by extinction. Now, that made some people sit up and take notice. The koala is cute to look at, cuddly to imagine and engenders lots of tourist dollars, so we value it above less attractive or photogenic species.
But they all matter.

Apart from mosquitos, human beings are the biggest cause of death to other human beings.
Yes, forget the Orca, the Great White Shark, Polar Bear, Saltwater Crocodile, Tiger, and others who are Apex predators, but are not (often!) after humans.

We, as a species do a lot of harm to ourselves as well as the rest of the planet.
BUT then along comes something that is perhaps a bigger and smarter top predator – COVID19.
Have we met our match?

How does it feel to be in danger of being obliterated? Just as we have done to all the hundreds of other life forms, animals, plants, insects.

We have far more at our disposal to fight off this stalker, this attacker.
Most threatened animal species have little other than nature and a few concerned individuals to try and protect them. We have everything the world can muster to help us.

But still, how does it feel to be ‘hunted’? To have an enemy that defies our current logic.

Hello, COVID19.

Let’s hope it will be ‘farewell, COVID19’ soon.
Put your face mask on!

Priorities...Sometimes we need a break.

28/6/2020

I seem to be part of a group of like-minded people who are giving Twitter and other social media a break.
My Weebly blogs have been dwindling as my enthusiasm for sharing and discussing News and information has become more and more depressing.

Forced isolation, social-distancing and other necessary behaviours have affected our lives—adding to the despair generated by current political shonky-ness and destruction of values of decency. I am not only referring to Australia’s mess, but also to what is happening around the Globe.

So…there you have the main reason my voice is somewhat muted of late.

Compounding this is the fact that my little dog of 16 years had to be ‘put to sleep’ last week.
The little dog who, when we lived next to the Red Gum Forest in Victoria, daily gleefully ran through trees and long grass, after the scent of baby rabbits. The little dog whose collar was once caught in her doggie companion’s canine tooth as they played—the companion who shook and spun her, trying to break free, ultimately leaving her unconscious. And me, the witness, having to give a small furry body CPR and ‘mouth-to-mouth’ to revive her. The little dog, who moved with us to live in Queensland and who spent her remaining years looking for Eastern Water Dragons and snoozing in the tropical sun on our veranda.

Yes, the little dog, whose joyful and uncomplaining presence was felt by us for all of her 16 years, but who became old and so ill that, last week, I had to wrap her in a blanket and take her to a kindly vet, who gave her a small injection to send her to doggie heaven, while I stroked her soft fluffy head and whispered, ‘good girl’.

So, there will be a break from me for a while. Not long, but a while.

EsEm, an unlikely - or unlikable - leader

20/6/2020

There was once an animal kingdom leader called EsEm, who looked and acted like a mighty tiger, but was really a weasel who had wrapped himself in tiger skin – just to look strong and wise.

EsEm ruled over a kingdom of (once) happy animals. He crowed like a cockerel about being the boss. He pretended to be brave and knowledgeable and many of the kingdom’s inhabitants were mightily fooled.
“Look at our master”, they would say. “He is strong and wise, and he will do much for us and our families”.
And they waited and waited for the good times to come.

Some of EsEm’s big friends were happy as he gave to them plenty of attention and plenty of money. But they were not really friends; they were folk who only wanted things for themselves; they were greedy and mean. But EsEm didn’t notice - or didn’t mind; he was just pleased to hear them agree what a wise leader he was.

Every so often, EsEm would call a gathering, where he would speak to his citizenry. Many busy writing rabbits would gather with their pencils ready to take notes of EsEm’s latest announcement.
The writing rabbits would scratch away at their notepads, listening with their big ears and trying to make sense of what EsEm was saying.

Some of the bigger rabbits (perhaps they were hares) would ask EsEm important questions, to which he would always crossly answer that he had already explained, and he didn’t need to repeat it.

Sometimes EsEm would read words from a page or a screen and if anyone asked him a question about what he had said, he would not answer them.

A few writing rabbits started to wonder if EsEm did genuinely know what he was talking about, but they, like the others, just wrote down the words they had heard and told the rest of the kingdom the latest news.

There were times when EsEm’s actions needed clarifying, but he always managed to convince the writing rabbits that he was the leader and so he was right - and they had to agree.

His companions in the big house he occupied, would tell him he was right. They were happy because he would let them do what they wanted - which dismayed some of his subjects, but none complained.

EsEm’s mates did some foolish things, like wasting many millions of the kingdom’s money. Some acted in a cruel way to some of the population. One companion even sold and bought water that did not exist, and someone sent demanding bills to small folk who did not owe anything. One member of the kingdom staff spent money on a vital supply, but left it in another land, where it could not be used.

There were many, many bad decisions for the kingdom and many errors of judgement, but the writing rabbits did not write much about mistakes, as they knew they were in danger of losing their jobs if they did.

One day, in the middle of an important meeting in the big house, EsEm lost his temper and yelled at a special wise owl and was extremely rude to another. When asked to stop, he argued and was even more rude than before. He was a very grumpy tiger that day and his tiger skin slipped a little to reveal parts of weasel underneath.

Later, he made another of his important announcements, in words only he could understand (or pretended to). This announcement was about education for the younger kingdom inhabitants and how he wished for most of his kingdom folk to become workers and not thinkers.

At this news, some inhabitants started to complain (softly, of course) and some of them even began to question EsEm’s wisdom.
“What will we do, if every animal is a worker and none is able to think deeply and work out important values?”

One of these wondering citizens remembered hearing a human story of an emperor who was somewhat similar to EsEm, and not really capable of being a leader. The emperor in the story was called out to be a fake by a small boy.

“Where can we find such a small boy for us?” he asked his friends.
“Maybe the writing rabbits will act as that small boy”, one suggested.
And they asked some of the writing rabbits to tell the true story. And, some of the rabbits thought it might be possible.

BUT THEN, EsEm called another one of his gatherings to make a VERY important announcement.
And, it was then that he told them that the WHOLE KINGDOM was in danger of being spied on and wrecked by a ‘state’, whose name he wouldn’t mention.

The writing rabbits went to work with their pencils - going extra fast as they spread the frightening story about the kingdom being under threat by some invisible force.

And the kingdom’s inhabitants were told about this, and all tales of EsEm’s rude outburst and his foolish plans for the young were forgotten. And the dangerous, yet invisible, threat was the only story told that day.

And the citizenry of EsEm’s kingdom went back to whatever was their lot in life and EsEm walked down the corridor of the big house, with his tiger arms across the shoulders of the other fake leaders and all was (not) well, once more.

And they didn’t even hear a voice cry out, “Oh, for a little human boy to call out, ‘The emperor has no clothes!’”

Taking a Break from Hostility

14/6/2020

Have to take a break from blogging, Twitter, FB, and all. Too much to take in lately. Too distressing, too much to complain and protest about.

The 'Black Lives Matter' protests, which I totally support, are overwhelming, especially if you delve into some of the ‘behind the scenes’ stories – both in U.S. and here in Australia, appalling and upsetting.

Protests about incarceration and mistreatment of asylum seekers, which, again, I support, bring out stories to break your heart and make you wonder about the minds and hearts of those supposedly voted to be our ‘leaders’.

The posturing and ignorance of our PM makes me nauseous.

So, although these matters must not be ignored - and I feel a need to add my voice to the distress that exists, I have had to turn away for a little while…to take a breather.

Instead, here is a light-hearted offering on a topic that is so distant from today’s battles against hate, discrimination, and Covid-19, it is ridiculous…but here goes:
___________________

It’s about footwear. While we are in isolation and the weather is cooling down, I am wearing socks with sandals.

It is an unacknowledged fact that the combination of good quality socks teamed with good quality sandals is the ultimate in footwear comfort.

I have not (so far) ventured out in public with this attire – well, not yet - but, once I am in my eighties, and arthritis has overtaken every toe, I just might.
In fact, I know I will.

Those of you who scoff at such unattractive (?) footwear are missing out on one of life’s simple luxuries.
And, yes, I know that some of you, in the privacy of your home, occasionally pull on a pair of comfortable socks and then don your sandals— but you’d never admit to doing so.

Those old men (and legendary German tourists) who are mocked and sniggered at as they walk by, comfortable in their sandal and sock combo are holding on to a secret that I am now sharing.

Wearing socks and sandals is heaven for feet.

Sweating the Small - and the BIG - stuff.

30/5/2020

I recently decided to not ‘sweat the small stuff’ (as the advice goes).
So, what do I mean by ‘the small stuff’? Well, I will stop worrying if every tile on the kitchen floor is not immaculately clean. Who cares? I will not worry if the doona on the bed is crooked…really, did I ever fret about that? I will not sigh in the morning when my newly shampooed hair looks like a rat has chewed it in the night. I will not be upset if the dog smells like a dog. I will not worry if I have pruned a shrub unevenly and I will not worry if I mistakenly wear my oldest shoes out shopping. (They are comfortable, and I didn’t notice)
These are but a few small things I will not sweat over.

But…how to not sweat the BIG stuff? That’s the problem.

Most of the ‘small’ stuff I can change - or have control over. Not so with the BIG stuff.

Take for example:
The growing lack of equality in our country - and around the globe. Where is the equity, or the fairness, giving everyone the ability to receive what should be theirs? The gap between rich and poor is expanding massively, with governments (worshipfully & generously) giving to the well-off, while demonising the ‘battler’.

According to the ABC, Australia's richest increased their wealth in 2019, by more than 20 per cent, which seems to be ongoing. There has been a staggering 53-fold increase in wealth for the top 200 in just 35 years.

(Back in 1984, Australia's 200 richest people had a combined wealth of $6.4 billion. By 2019, they had a combined wealth of $342 billion).
But. the poorest 40 per cent of households, remain stuck with just 2.8 per cent of the nation's wealth between them.

The irony at this time of COVID-19, is that it is the poorly paid workers to whom we turn to keep us safe and keep the wheels of what’s left functioning: they clean the buildings, they care for the nursing home residents and the disabled, they mind the children. They unload the goods and stock the supermarket shelves, while the well-off isolate themselves in their comfortable homes.
There is little recognition given to those good and worthy workers.

The obscene worship of money, encouraged by today’s politicians is creeping into individuals’ lives - generating admiration for, not good work, but wealth. Any form of equity and (I might even say) decency, seems to have vanished.

There is nothing I can do about this. So why should I ‘sweat’ about it?

Another big thing I ‘sweat’ about is the plight of our (our?) asylum seekers.
What changed us from being welcoming to those souls who seek asylum…notice the words, ‘seek asylum’…not seeking to do something illegal or to scare us, but merely to seek asylum.
It has been said that no one would get in a leaky boat and set off for unknown distant shores if they didn’t think the water was safer than the land they had left.
What made us change? What made us – the people who welcomed refugees from Vietnam with open arms and helped them settle here in safety (and others before them) - What has made us harden our hearts in such a terrible way?
Has this cruelty come about simply because we’ve been educated to be afraid of strangers?

I can sign every petition offered to me, I can verbally express my concerns, but nothing will change the opinions of those who firmly believe the lies pushed by certain forces.

There are so many other BIG things that I ‘sweat’ about:

Australia’s unemployment hitting 20%, due to the havoc wreaked by coronavirus, is one.

Trump’s America is a very BIG one! What can we do about that catastrophe? Bugger all, I think.

The pandemic’s toll in U.K. is of huge concern to me. I can do nothing about this either, apart from encouraging my loved ones who live there to continue their watchfulness and care.

But the biggest BIG worry of all is Climate Change.
It is ‘as plain as the nose on your face’ that Global Warming caused by human activity, such as burning of fossil fuels, is a HUGE worry for all. Yet, the ‘worship-of-money’ thing rears its ugly head constantly as politicians reject science and follow the money-men as they deal irresponsibly, lying, pushing, shoving and DONATING big amounts gained by exploiting the ground we rely on for survival.

The Australian Museum & other responsible organisations tell us that ‘Humans have the solutions, skills and capacity to address what is needed to help our ailing earth’
But?????

Meanwhile, as just a small current example, Queensland farmers are continuously trying to protect their land and water from the destructive forces that push for coal and gas exploration at any price.
It’s a never-ending battle.

Where is the hope? Where are the positives?

There are many, many more things that worry me (and others) and I could fill pages with the horrors of such subjects as black deaths in custody, domestic violence, the neglect of small children, the mistreatment of the homeless and on and on….

But, while we worry (rightfully) about this awful pandemic and I personally have given up ‘sweating the small stuff’, the BIG stuff remains.

Sadly, there are many who never give a thought to these big issues. But perhaps they are the lucky ones.
Television ‘life-style’ shows, celebrity gossip, sports, Foxtel, Netflix and shopping provide escapes for those who don’t care. A few somewhat mindless pursuits provide them with all they need for something to think about.

I feel helpless but am I also feeling hopeless?
We must have some hope.

Meanwhile, I’ll stop ‘sweating the small stuff’ and see if that helps.

My Fake Brush With Corona

22/5/2020

Two things: ONE – I was going to stop writing about Covid-19 and, TWO – I knew I was coping well with my relaxed, confident approach concerning my ability to avoid any threat of catching the dreaded virus.
After all, I was isolated at home for 95% of the time – only emerging for necessary purchase of food. I continually washed my hands (the instructed way) and anointed them with sanitiser if I ever ventured out.

But then, one day, I awoke with a terrible sore throat. Eeek!

The previous day, I had read an account from an infected passenger from the Ruby Princess cruise ship. He stated that the first sign of illness for him was a ‘scratchy throat’.
Eeek, again!

Swallowing a couple of Panadol, I grabbed the two lists of symptoms we had attached to the front of the fridge and went through the ‘identifying the symptoms’ message:
SORE THROAT: COVID-19, rates ‘Sometimes’
Ah, well, that’s assuring.

BUT, on the other list, (‘Important announcement – CORONAVIRUS’) I read something very unsettling:
THE SYMPTOMS:

It will first infect the throat, so you’ll have a sore throat lasting 3-4 days. YIKES!

I hopped on to ‘Doctor Google’ and searched ‘sore throat’ to see what usually causes such a complaint.
It seems there are virus-caused and bacteria-caused sore throats. What was mine? And where did it come from? I hadn’t been anywhere – or near anyone.
Throat infections – sometimes called ‘strep throat’ have to come from a source. But I hadn’t been near anyone!

A couple of days went by. As my Panadol taking increased, I resorted to the age-old remedy of gargling with salt water, but I still had a sore throat and my anxiety was rising. My head hurt, and my ears were aching.

Perhaps a walk in the park would provide relief from my (hopefully imagined) deadly virus attack.
It had been raining and the towering gums in the park emitted a gorgeous eucalyptus perfume that did, indeed, help me feel better.
But then I sneezed – not once, but five times. So, home to check the list of symptoms again. Sneezing?

From COVID-19 message No. 1: Sneezing rated ‘NO’ Great!
From the second info sheet, ‘sneezing’ is only mentioned as a distributor of the virus. Not sure if that was reassuring or not.

By day 5, I was taking fewer Panadol and only gargling with salt water once a day. My headache had eased considerably and my ears were only feeling a little raw. Hardly enough to worry about.

I settled down to read the latest news on COVID-19, and found that here, in Queensland, there are only 12 ‘active cases’, with a mere 4 people in hospital suffering from the virus.
That was very comforting.

I swallowed – to feel my previously angry throat was very subdued.

So, it seems I probably had a case of the ‘Common Cold’ – source unknown…but it showed that I was not such 'a smarty pants’ after all - so confident that the virus wouldn’t touch me…
which it didn’t.

BUT a sore throat sent me into quite a spin.

I may not be alone.
Anyone else imagined they’d possibly succumbed to the ‘rona’?

We're doing well...so far!

15/5/2020

A basic acknowledgement:

I wasn’t going to write any more about COVID-19.
I had simply had enough; depressed by reading news and sick of listening to radio and television, with counts of how many people had succumbed to the virus. (None around here, incidentally). BUT….( a little piece of positive commentary):

After a quick visit to the local shopping centre early this morning, I took a little time to be impressed by what we have so quickly become used to.

At the main entrance to the shopping centre there is an automatic hand-sanitiser dispenser. You simply place your hands under a small barrel-shaped container and out squirts just enough sanitiser to carefully rub into both hands.

Once at the entry to the supermarket, there is another slightly different hand sanitiser dispenser, alongside a dispenser of sanitising wipes to use on the trolley handle.
So, even though (like me) you may have already applied sanitiser at home, you are able to add a second or third coat, as it were, to your hands - as well as cleaning/disinfecting the trolley.

There are signs directing customers to keep an appropriate distance from each other, with marks on the floor and airport-like barricades leading to checkouts, where you find a friendly assistant behind a Perspex partition.

So super safe!

Speaking to family members in UK, I was surprised to hear that none of these precautions is available there.
Why not?
It seems simple enough.

Figures of coronavirus illness and death in the UK are horrendous. Surely a small, manageable safety addition to the shopping experience would be the least authorities could assist with.
Anything - no matter how small - that might help.

So grateful for our shopping centres’ helpfulness for what they are offering — and a shout out to COLES and WOOLWORTHS in Australia.
(And, ALDI also)
Thank you!

PS: But be aware that easing of restrictions has proven to be disastrous in some countries.
Please continue to stay isolated as much as you possibly can.

The Virus, The Fires & Climate Change: Our 3 horror stories.

9/5/2020

The news of the day (well, yesterday) is that the PM has decided that we are near the end of the dangerous part of the pandemic. He is sharing plans for a “COVID-safe” economy, with the gradual re-opening of restaurants, cafes, shops, libraries and playgrounds.
And schools, by July.
The Chief Medical Officer describes it as being a “cautious and gentle” approach.

Well, gee, I hope it’s the right decision. I worry about a possible ‘second wave’, as seen horrifically in Singapore, when they eased restrictions too soon.

Time will tell, I suppose. Nothing I can do about it, apart from keeping myself and my family as safe as possible.
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But, can we please just for a little while, forget the coronavirus (yes, I know it’s hard), but I’d like to share a few thoughts about the bushfire victims whose plight has been largely forgotten - overtaken by the pandemic panic.

It’s probably not even debatable as to which disaster is the greater, but I am aware that people affected by our ‘Black Summer’, over six months ago, are most likely still asking the question they were asking way back then. That is, ‘What are we going to do now?’

Remember that THOUSANDS of houses were lost, burnt, obliterated. Not just five or six, not ten or 11, not even a hundred, but THOUSANDS.

And, thirty-four people DIED.

After the fires, the federal government announced an amount of $2 billion to be used to help rebuild and aid the many families and communities affected. That now seems to have been a theoretical pot of money. Or, as the PM said not so long ago, it was ‘a notional’ amount. (No, I don’t know what that means, either). It has not been listed in the latest budget figures, so…?

There has been what appears to be a lot of duckshoving and I can see no evidence to show that a couple of billion dollars has arrived in places of need.

Nor can I see where the millions of dollars donated by the public – and the ‘celebrities’ went – that’s still being wrangled over, apparently. (Red tape, or ?)

Sure, there has been some clearing of rubble around sites that once were homes. I don’t know whether that has been accomplished by government depts, or by the army, or by individuals. But each burnt homesite cleared has meant about six or seven truckloads per house, to remove what was once a lived-in (and loved-in) home. How awful would that be to see a life-time’s work and living experience carted away (in bits) on the back of a truck?

Many of these people – the ones who haven’t left in despair - are still living in tents and borrowed caravans. Their plight forgotten; taken over by the worry around the pandemic. Survivors have been left behind. “What are we going to do now?” some are still asking.

It seems the answer may be, “You’re on your own now. We have greater things to concern us; greater things to plan and budget for.”

Could we please have a little more of the “We’re all in this together” attitude, for those affected by the fires?

Of course, the fire disaster is not all that the pandemic has covered up (so to speak).
Have you noticed that the focus on Climate Change has evaporated? What of the catastrophic future guaranteed if we ignore our planet’s plight?

If we dismiss Global Warming and its terrible effects – those we are already witnessing - we will only add that horrendous mess to the current pandemic struggle, as we try to make life on earth liveable.

When I think about Climate Change, (and, yes, it does need capital letters), I am haunted at the prospect of the dramatic changes to be faced by my grandchildren. I really can’t imagine any of them – or their offspring – setting off in a spaceship to find another (more liveable) planet. What will they do?
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So, if you must – if you can - feel pleased and relaxed about the pandemic’s imminent end - as the PM tells us that our lives will soon be back to normal.
But also give a thought to the survivors of ‘Black Summer’ and keep doing your bit to alleviate the effects of Climate Change. Don’t allow one disaster to hide the one before. Don’t push aside the threat of Global Warming.

It’s all a bit too hard, I know, but give it a try.

Keep social distancing, wash your hands, plant some trees - and nudge a politician to remember those affected by bush fires.

May Day! A Happy one?

1/5/2020

So, it’s a new month.
May the first, 2020… May Day.
In Europe, May Day is a public holiday usually celebrated on 1 May. It is an ancient festival of spring.
(Is anyone in Europe celebrating on this May Day, 2020 ?)

In the late 19th century, May Day was chosen in many countries as the date for International Workers' Day.
In some Australian states, May Day is a public holiday, celebrated on or near 1 May. Nothing to do with spring – as we are now in our third month of autumn.

This year, Monday 4 May is Labour Day 2020, in Queensland – and a public holiday.
Queensland, for a few years, celebrated Labour Day in October, but that first Monday in October is now called ‘Queen’s Birthday’(!)
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Not really as a celebration of May Day, but…The Queensland premier has announced that a few covid19 restrictions will be lifted from tonight. Nothing too drastic. Just a leavening of some draconian rules about visiting.
We are allowed to go driving, as long as it’s within 50kms of our home.
We are allowed two visitors at a time - and some retail shops will be open for non-essential items, such as clothing.

So, maybe some of us will feel freedom creeping back into our lives.

BUT…
Whatever May Day may mean to you, the question is: Will this May Day, 2020, be remembered as a happy time or unhappy time, with more of the same – isolation, social distancing - and worry?

I worry about loosening our social isolation ‘shackles’ too soon.

I worry most of all about letting school children go back to school – no matter what.
The idea that the coronavirus hardly affects children is not altogether true, although children are, in the main, less seriously affected – the reason is, as yet, unclear.

Two days ago, there was a report of a four-year-old child in NSW diagnosed with the virus, leading to the closure of an early learning centre.
A similar report came from Melbourne, where it was unsure (then) if the child was infected or not.

There have been children infected in other countries – some of whom have sadly died.
And, now reports from Europe (UK, France and Spain) and US tell us that doctors fear that the virus may be affecting children in serious and different ways.
(ABC): ‘Several worrying cases involving coronavirus infection of children and younger adults have emerged from the UK and USA in the last few weeks.
In the UK, a few children have shown up at hospitals with a serious illness.
And in America, younger adults have shown up at hospitals after suffering from strokes.
While the total numbers are low, it reveals there's still a lot we don’t know about this virus…’

Health officials in the U.K. are warning that Covid-19 could be causing a new and rare inflammatory condition in children.

Shouldn’t that info give us pause regarding Aussie kids returning to school in large numbers?
Think about it.
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But, back to our May Day…
What will this coronavirus style May Day bring for us?
Whatever the changes, if any...Please tolerate the isolation and social distancing a bit longer, everyone.

Hooray for the state premiers who have stuck by their strict isolation rules. It is paying dividends.

We are lucky Australians.
We can only hope that the government and other ‘powers that be’ can help the populace remain under control as much as necessary and that people remain vigilant.
AND SAFE.

This phrase from an old hymn keeps popping into my head:
“Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow…”

One day soon we may answer yes, to “Are we there yet?”

That’s all we can hope for, I suppose.

Happy May Day!

A New Dawn Coming?

24/4/2020

A silver lining to the coronavirus may be hard to find, but there just might be a glimmer of hope, some good news, even a sign (and a sigh) of relief.
Well, here in Australia, anyway.

Let’s see what has been revealed over the past few days:
Firstly:

“Australia has recorded its lowest daily increase in cases since early March...” (From Guardian Australia)

And, those numbers are continuing to decline.

Perhaps the cause of that good news can be found here:

“The Australian Bureau of Statistics released its first survey … looking at the household impacts of COVID-19. It collected information from 1059 people via telephone between March 31 and April 6. According to the survey, a staggering 98 per cent of Australians said they had been practising social distancing … The survey also found about 88 per cent of those surveyed were avoiding public spaces and public events, and about 87 per cent had cancelled personal gatherings.”

(from News.com.au)

According to latest figures, Australia is at a seven-day average of substantially below 50 new cases diagnosed.
How good is that?
AND:

Although the reason is not yet clear, Hospital Emergency patient numbers have plummeted. That means there are fewer people taking up room and (nurse & doctor) time when both are needed elsewhere.

(There is a slight problem here as some medical staff are worried that people are avoiding hospitals, when perhaps they should be seeking treatment for other (non coronavirus) ailments).

In most Australian states, there are now thousands of hospital beds that are currently not needed. They are still there - and we must hope that they will stay empty…but must not be complacent.

Then there’s the fact that, although the (Australian) flu season has begun, cases of (ordinary) flu have decreased dramatically.

Reasoning behind this is that, because of staying at home, social distancing PLUS the added bonus that people have learned how to - and have embraced - the wonderful ‘new idea’ of effective hand washing!

Hospitals have announced that some elective surgery could resume within a week.

These are just some of the good stories.

Apart from the sickness and hospital side of things:

Online shopping deliveries shows there has been a boom like no other - and good times for those who are legitimately using online methods to sell products. Plus, great for people needing goods but don’t wish to leave home.

(Australia Post is very busy!)

There has been a rise in quality work by inspired street artists...

The coronavirus pandemic is inspiring street artists to get painting, whether it's to express political views and fears, to thank heroes or just to point out the absurdity of the situation. (Look them up)

Sales of bicycles is the highest in memory for many bike shops.
What a good sign that is!

Most capital cities have the clearest, bluest skies in years.
Another win!

There has been a boom in pet sales and ‘adoption’ of cats and dogs from animal shelters…assuming these pets are continued to be loved and cared for after the crisis is over, it’s a wonderful thing.

So you see, although there may be no real silver lining, there is reason for hope for a future – coronavirus free.

We should not forget the people who have suffered; those who have been victims of this awful illness – and those who have lost loved ones because of the virus.
We must be thankful for what Australia has achieved.
And...We must not forget the tireless work done by medical teams.

This poem (below) popped up online the other day. It’s beautiful and I hope it’s okay to share it.

And the people stayed home.
And read books, and listened, and rested,
and exercised, and made art,
and played games, and learned new ways of being,
and were still.
And listened more deeply.
Some meditated, some prayed, some danced.
Some met their shadows.
And the people began to think differently.
And the people healed.
And, in the absence of people living in ignorant,
dangerous, mindless, and heartless ways,
the earth began to heal.
And when the danger passed,
and the people joined together again,
they grieved their losses, and made new choices,
and dreamed new images,
and created new ways to live and heal the earth fully,
as they had been healed.
(by U.S. writer/poet/retired teacher, Kitty O’Meara)

Keep safe, keep well, wash your hands.