25 years ago, I wrote a children’s story, in rhyme, about a singing tree. It was supposed to be an environment-awakening tale with reference to how living things depend on each other.
The story went nowhere and I recently found it again. I am now wondering if it might be more acceptable in a more awakened society. (Or, should I say ‘woke’ society?)
See if you can make it to the end…it’s quite long.
 
THE  SINGING TREE
​
In a garden belonging to Mr McFee
Stood a fantastic, marvellous, grand singing tree.
 
Now this tree was a wonder to all who came near
And the sounds it produced were amazing to hear.
It could sing with a breeze, it could sing in the rain;
Its leaves and its branches joined in the refrain
As it sang in the sun and it sang in the cold,
And this tree, in this garden, was a joy to behold.
 
The birds came to rest and to sing on its limbs
And the air would be filled with chorus and hymns,
While the whole garden shone with the wonder of song,
As small children joined in, and all sang along.
 
The music was sweet and a pleasure to hear,
As the tree and the seasons progressed through the year,
And Mr McFee spread joy all around
As he planted more seeds and plants in the ground.
 
His garden was quite an incredible sight;
And he worked in it daily, from morning till night;
While children and birds came and helped where they could,
And the sights and the sounds were exceedingly good.
 
The birds ate some seeds and found other feeds
From insects and grubs and the unwanted weeds.
They tidied the garden for Mr McFee
And perched in the branches of the big singing tree.
 
Well, that’s how they prospered, the whole happy crew,
With music and helping  -  and friendliness too.
The children and birds and the singing tree sang,
And the whole countryside with their joyfulness rang.
 
BUT, one day, McFee found some grubs on a leaf,
And he stopped and he stared in great disbelief
As they chomped and they ruined a whole precious flower.
He raged, and his anger turned his manner all sour.
 
He marched off to town for some poisonous spray;
Stirred it up in a bucket and sprayed straight away.
He aimed at the plant where the grubs had been seen,
Then decided to spray where they just might have been.
He sprayed far and wide, from the south to the north;
Then west, and then east and again back and forth.
He sprayed high and low -  just to be sure,  
He wanted to know that the grubs were no more.
 
Well, the smell  -  that was bad, but the grubs disappeared,
Although other results of the spray were just weird:
Some birds accidentally snapped up the remains
Of the grubs, and then fell to the ground with bad pains.
 
Those birds soon decided to keep right away
From the trees and the plants that were covered in spray.
So they and the children found places to be
Quite far away from the old singing tree.
 
So far away that the tree couldn’t hear
Any bird songs, or children he once held so dear.
And he sighed as he waved gentle arms in the breeze
And stood quietly there, like the rest of the trees.
 
Yes, the singing had gone.  The singing had finished.
The joy in the garden had clearly diminished.
The flowers they sagged and the vegies stopped growing
And even the grass no more needed mowing.
 
The time, it passed slowly  -  the days they were long
And no sound was heard  - for the tree stopped its song.
No bird sang in the branches, or pecked at its feet.
And the tree thought back to those days that were sweet,
When the children all played in the garden and sang,
And the whole wide world with their small voices rang,
And happiness reigned, and friendliness too.
The old singing tree didn’t know what to do.
 
Now, Mr McFee, poor old miserable chappy,
He no longer had the will to be happy.
His garden was messy  -  with weeds overgrown,
And he knew it was nobody’s fault but his own.
He had sprayed with the poison and ruined the chance
Of providing for creatures like birds, bees and ants.
These creatures all helped with the life-giving powers
Of bushes and vegies and fruit trees and flowers.
Now even the worms had all wriggled away  - 
There were no helpful creatures willing to stay.
 
The singing tree looked at that unhappy man
And thought, “I will try to fix things if I can.”
So it tried once again to start up a song,
But the sounds that it uttered all came out quite wrong.
 
So, here, in what used to be paradise found,
Was a miserable man and a tree with no sound;
And the man had spent everything  - now he was poor
And their blissful and fortunate life was no more.
 
And now he no longer could buy any spray,
Mr McFee simply pottered away
And worked on a little, but fresh garden plot
And, after a while he quite simply forgot
How he hated the sight of a grub on his plants,
And welcomed a small swarm of bees and some ants.
 
Then, after a few more of ‘no poison’ weeks,
Some birds flew by with some grubs in their beaks;
And Mr McFee knew he now understood
That birds needed grubs as part of their food;
That grubs and beetles and butterflies too
Were all as important as me and as you
For making things work and making things healthy,
For helping the whole world to grow wise and wealthy.
 
Now, those birds who flew by with the grubs just before,
Had eaten them now and came looking for more,
And when they had found some and had them for tea,
They flew up and perched in the big singing tree.
 
Well, those birds, they were happy, and music they made,
As they sat in the branches, enjoying the shade.
And the tree, on hearing the lovely birds’ song,
Raised his limbs to the sky and soon sang along.
 
Then more birds came and the song became loud,
And very soon they were joined by a crowd
Of children, who happily ran to the tree
And danced ‘round its trunk excitedly.
 
Well, little by little, McFee’s new garden grew
And the birds all returned and the small children too.
All the creatures were welcomed, yes, even the pests,
And when it was springtime, the birds built their nests.
 
And, so in and around that nice old singing tree
Were creatures and children  -  just like it used to be.
While Mr McFee, he just sat and he listened,
In the corner of each eye a small tear glistened
As he thought of the awful damage he’d done
With his battle with grubs and how nobody won.
Nobody can fight against nature and win  - 
It’s part of the great plan of life that we’re in.
 
And the old singing tree, he’d forget and forgive
And continue to sing for as long as he’d live.
He would sing from his soul and sing from his heart
And welcome the creatures who came to take part
In the glory of all that this great world could bring;
And they’d all join together and together they’d sing.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

​
I used to be a teacher.
So did Gabbie Stroud.
Gabbie wrote a book called ‘Teacher’ and in it she told of her love of teaching and her love of the children she taught but how she had to leave her beloved career because of the stresses and strains caused by demands on her time and energy, initiated by political decisions that have little bearing on actual teaching of - and relating to - little children.
Oh, how I agreed!
 
Being a teacher is an exhausting, but oh, so rewarding occupation.
Sure, there are troublesome kids who take up a lot of your time and energy but, when you dig deep, those kids are often troubled kids trying to cope with family dysfunction and many other difficulties little children should not have to bear. You mainly have to give them your time and love them.
Sure teaching small children can be messy: There’s the odd overflow sneeze, a vomit on a teacher’s shoe (or worse), a small puddle of urine left on a child-sized chair, cuts and grazes you have to repair, while also consoling a weeping child.
Sure, kids can be needy: there’s a kid you have to (surreptitiously) buy a pair of shoes for or a child for whom you have to make lunch – or share yours. So many other ‘chores’ apart from the actual JOB of teaching.
 
 It’s a long time since I retired from teaching but I was almost at the same point as Gabbie found herself when I did.
WHY, oh WHY is teaching a topic that produces ‘know-all’ politicians and bureaucrats who think they have all the answers? (Answers to non-existent questions, usually!)
And who think it’s time for education change and assessment?
 
All the testing and assessing in the world won’t help children learn. It may even hamper the best learning. It certainly has the ability to make kids dislike school!
 
 Yes, sure, I know that there are teachers out there who enjoy the testing and the annotating of ‘results’. I know because I have seen them and heard them.
I was instructed to attend a refresher workshop when I returned briefly to be a relief teacher. I was one of quite a few older part-time teachers in attendance. I estimated that, between us, we must have successfully taught thousands of little kids. During the seminar, we were lectured by two very young ‘advisors’ who referred to their (albeit brief) time as teachers as when they had been ‘classroom practitioners’. FFS!
When did teachers turn into facilitators called ‘classroom practitioners’?
 
Please can we go back to the days where dedicated teachers all loved their jobs, loved the children in their care and did not have to spend valuable hours and days on marking, assessing, recording and TESTING the kids? There is SO much to enjoy when you are a teacher. It can be bloody hard work and you often feel totally drained at the end of the day, but it can also deliver wonderful feelings of happy achievement, especially when you have a room full of happy accomplished children sharing your day.
 
How about we get rid of those stupid (and impersonal) ‘interactive white-boards’ (activated from teacher’s laptop!) and return to lots of teacher/children face-to-face interaction. No need to return all the way back to blackboards (although I have to say, I think that would be GREAT!)
Get rid of  iPads for small children and give them paper, books, crayons, and counting blocks. (Eek! Shock, horror).
 
Sing a lot!
Play learning games in the classrooms, read hundreds of books and have fun.
 
Keep singing and having fun as learning progresses. When Year Three is reached, don’t worry about teaching to a TEST that is supposedly necessary for (good!) NAPLAN results.
WHY does the world have to know the students’ ratings and a school’s rating? Does it really achieve anything apart from stressing out both teachers and students?
 
 I know there are still many, many happy and dedicated teachers willingly working hard every day but I still weep for today’s schools and the unrealistic demands placed on them.
I weep for the teachers and children.
 
Everyone should read Gabbie Stroud’s* book.
Especially those who denigrate the work teachers do!
 
* ‘Teacher, One Woman’s struggle to keep the heart in teaching’, Gabbie Stroud,
(Allen & Unwin)

 
So sorry to start off the year with a whinge, BUT, lately there’s something about inequality that ‘sticks in my craw’.
Is inequality getting worse? Or am I imagining it?
Facts tell us that (world-wide) the rich are getting richer.
 
According to Oxfam, the world’s EIGHT richest people possess the same amount of $$$ as the poorest HALF of the world!
Hard to comprehend?
 
I recently came across a book, “Battlers & Billionaires, The story of inequality in Australia”, written by Dr Andrew Leigh (an Australian politician and former professor of economics at the Australian National University).
In this book he gives insights into inequalities of national significance.
 
I found this particular observation from Dr Leigh astounding:
 
‘…imagine a ladder on which each rung represents a million dollars of wealth. Now imagine Australian population spread out along this ladder, with distance from the ground reflecting household wealth.
On this ladder, most of us are just a few centimetres off the ground. Half of all households are closer to the ground than they are to the first rung. The typical Australian household has a wealth of about half a million dollars, placing it halfway to the first rung. A household in the top 10 percent is one and a half rungs up, at about knee height.
A household in the top 1 percent is five rungs up, about neck level.
The mining billionaire Gina Rinehart is nearly ten kilometres off the ground’
 
This is an example of extreme inequality!  And I have to wonder, how much hard work did this person do to ‘earn’ such wealth?
Re-read it, because its extraordinariness can make it difficult to comprehend.
 
Admittedly there are not many as grotesquely wealthy as Gina Rinehart, but as I continue to read this book, my attitude to inequality only deepens and I wonder what is happening in today’s world where money is king -  but only available to those already advantaged.
Whatever happened to sharing?
 
The Australian government’s newest ‘shouted out’ tax cuts, that are supposedly to help ALL of us, result in giving 62% of benefits to the TOP 20% ‘earners’ and approximately only 1% to the bottom ‘earners’.
Looks like inequality to me!
 
Remembering that lower earning workers always SPEND all their money (pay) as a case of necessity, whereas the top earners can either stockpile (save) their benefits or indulge in ‘impulse buying’ –  an activity generally denied the lower earners. To give lower earners more disposable cash seems like a helpful aid to the economy. But perhaps I’m being naïve – ignorant, even.
 
Whatever is happening when the ordinary person who works hard at his or her job is bypassed by those who only consider rewarding themselves or their likewise big league mates?

I fear for a country (world, even) that will be divided in two; the HAVES and the have-nots; an unfairness, where selfishness and the worship of money risks eliminating all decency and empathy.
 
The ‘Lucky Country’ indeed.
 
P.S.:
‘A nation will not survive, morally or economically, when so few have so much, while so many have so little’
(Bernie Sanders).
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

The three-year-old sat quietly on her mother’s knee as the dentist prepared for the shock she guessed awaited her. Examining the tiny girl’s mouth, the dentist tried to smile but you could tell that she had seen it all before and was weary at the sight.
Mum smiled as the child opened wide to show two rows of small pieces of ragged black and brown stumps that must have started out as tiny pearly white teeth.
The gums above the top teeth were swollen and very red.
‘Abscesses’, commented the woman dentist with a worried frown.
Three years old!
This tiny child had possessed some of those teeth for only a year.
How could they have been in such appalling condition?
Mum’s comment was ‘she’s probably eaten too many of her older sisters’ treats’.
What were these ‘treats’?
And in what condition were the older children’s teeth?
Had this dentist also had to deal with those?
 
This poor little child was soon taken in for dental surgery, anaesthetised and relieved of nearly all of her 20 teeth.
Blood and pain greeted her when she awoke from the effects of the anaesthetic.
But, eventually that pain would go -  as would the pain from the rotten teeth and their accompanying abscesses.
Poor little precious child!
 
I saw this on a documentary about sugar on tv a week or so ago and was shocked beyond belief.
The condition of this small child’s teeth is apparently not an uncommon sight at the dental hospital.
 
How does this happen?
Is a sugar tax going to eliminate the problem?
I think not.
The imposition of a sugar tax will make precious little difference to the result of such ignorance and mistreatment.
The only remedy is prevention at a basic level. But how to do this? How can we educate to help?
 
Prevention is the way to go to alleviate suffering in so many ways!

Take for instance, the horrendous earthquake and tsunami in Sulawesi, Indonesia on 28th September, with destruction on a massive scale and the tragic death of (so far) over 2000, with 5000 still missing, presumed dead. THOUSANDS of lives lost!
It is hard to imagine such a tragedy.
An added - and truly awful - fact is that there was no warning for the population and therefore no way for people to at least try to avoid the catastrophe as, even though a warning mechanism had been installed, it had not worked for several years as the country was too poor to ensure its upkeep.
 
Oh, how prevention would have been the preferable situation.
The many countries now sending millions of dollars of aid to the stricken Indonesians, could surely have served everyone better by contributing to the maintenance of the tsunami and earthquake warning system.
Prevention is better? Surely! 
 _____________________________________

And here’s a biggie:
Climate change!
Come on….. What?
The Australian PM has just announced the importance of coal production for our future energy needs. Coal!
 
This is an example of moronic thinking!
We cannot prevent climate change – it’s already happening at an amazing rate of knots – but we can help to slow it down a little by not promoting coal!
For heaven’s sake! Could someone please stop this madness?
 
‘Prevention is better than cure’ is the old adage.
 
*We cannot cure the poor little child’s teeth. But we can try to prevent such atrocious conditions from developing in others. But I think we’ll need much more than a sugar tax!
 
*We cannot ‘cure’ the lives lost in the earthquake and tsunami. Nor can we prevent loss of infrastructure, but we can surely provide warning systems to save lives of those in vulnerable areas.
 
*We cannot ‘cure’ Climate Change.
But it is one thing that we can slow down at least.
STOP MINING COAL!
 

 
I am trying to do my bit, but will it make a scintilla of difference? I hope so, but I think not.
 
Every afternoon when I take my dog for a stroll through the nearby park (it’s a big one…the park, that is, not the dog!), I collect items of rubbish that people have thrown away, willy-nilly, on the paths, beside the skate ramps, in the bushes and on the edge of a small creek.
The rubbish includes bottles, plastic bags and (always!) those take-away drink containers, often with plastic dome-like tops and usually still with a straw.
It beats me how people can simply drop or throw trash just anywhere as they go along. But they do!
If the rubbish item is too gross to touch, I use one of my doggie poo bags as a sort of disposable glove to pick it up. (Yes, I use those plastic bags, but I dispose of them very carefully).
So, picking up others’ rubbish is something I do every day.
 
Trying not to sound too much like a goody-goody, I think I do my bit – little though it is.
I have not accepted supermarket single use plastic bags for years.
I even made my own cotton bags to hold fruit that I buy.
But…is this enough?
Is my tiny contribution helping to alleviate the horrendous problem of plastic pollution?
 
The problem is HUGE!
 
Shoppers worldwide are using approximately 500 billion single-use plastic bags per year.
 
To see what we’re up against, please watch the video showing waves of plastic pollution in the Caribbean Sea:
 
 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T7f2pX-u0Cg  
 
And here’s a scary fact: 5 Asian countries contribute more plastic into the oceans than the rest of the world combined. (That is, China, Indonesia, Philippines, Thailand & Vietnam).
Shocking report reveals that 95% of plastic polluting the world's oceans comes from just TEN rivers - including the Ganges and Niger. (Daily Mail, 2017)
 
 (According to Forbes media, April 2018) Indonesia’s Citarum River­, blackened by debris beyond recognition, has been dubbed the most polluted river in the world.
The situation has gotten so bad that the army was recently called in to remove the plastic waste -- and prevent further dumping in the waterway. 
The army had to be called in!
 
Last year, a third of the 1.67 million tons of domestic waste disposed in Singapore consisted of packaging waste, primarily plastic bags and food packaging. 
 
 But, the situation is slowly changing: Taiwan is moving to ban all one-time use plastic, including bags, beverage cups and cutlery issued by restaurants and businesses by 2030. (but ‘by 2030’ ? too late?)
  
But, don’t be complacent Australia. Australia is a serious polluter!
There’s so much more we can do. But this is a start:
In Australia, (from July 1), Queensland and Western Australia have now banned single-use, lightweight plastic bags from major retailers, bringing the states into line with the ACT, South Australia and Tasmania.
Victoria is set to follow, having announced plans in October 2017 to phase out most lightweight plastic bags this year, leaving only New South Wales without a proposed ban.
Come on, Victoria and (especially) NSW!
 
We’re still seeing those bags as they are thrown away - or blown away. Off they go, into gutters, then drains, then waterways, then the sea.
And the damage they and other plastics wreak on sea life is indescribably awful.
 
Check out this video of a poor green turtle battling piles of plastic rubbish as she tries to build her nest…and later the poor baby turtles.
 
https://www.facebook.com/bbcearth/videos/our-blue-planet-turtles-battle-with-plastic/1824694994230715/   (watch the whole video)
 
It is estimated that one in three ocean swimming turtles have plastic in their stomach. It’s killing them.
 
I could go on…and on…and on…
 
But, while we on this frightening topic, can anyone tell me the reason behind drinking  bottled water??
Who conned us into thinking that water from a plastic bottle was preferable to water from a kitchen tap? Who conned us into paying exorbitant prices for water that we could have for free? Water in bottles that contribute towards ruining our environment!
 
And WHY do we think we have to constantly drink water – no matter where we are? (Several times I’ve seen people sipping from water bottles at funerals! FFS!)
 
So, anyway, I am doing my (tiny) bit, and still hoping the situation isn’t hopeless!
 
DO YOUR BIT!
 
 

​I had been planning to write about the increasing lack of compassion in the world but was  temporarily stymied by the latest words of Peter Dutton (Australia’s Home Affairs Minister) who has made a statement so abhorrent that I was having trouble finding what to say.

“It’s essential that people ­realise that the hard-won success of the last few years could be undone overnight by a single act of compassion in bringing 20 people from Manus to Australia.”  Peter Dutton

While Donald Trump demonises ‘his’ asylum seekers by separating children from parents with hardly a thought as to the damage it will do, our Australian Border Force controller warns of the danger of ‘a single act of compassion’ in relation to 'our' asylum seekers. 
An 'act of compassion' spoken of as if it's something almost evil.
 
For anyone wondering what that ‘single act of compassion’ might have been – it was the act of allowing a dying man to leave his place of imprisonment on the island of Nauru to receive palliative care in Australia in his last weeks of life.
Mind you, this man had been assessed as a legitimate refugee but was not allowed to stay in Australia because he had made the journey here by boat. He was also denied appropriate treatment for his lung cancer and now it has progressed to the point where he is dying. He has been imprisoned for 5 years! And it took a petition signed by 24,000 decent Australians and a letter signed by 2000 Australian doctors (Yes, 2000 doctors!) to finally induce a bureaucrat in the Border Security department to allow this poor man to come to Australia to receive palliative care. Palliative care!
 
Does that make you at least wonder about the attitude of ‘those in power’?
 
Empathy is missing. Compassion is missing. Humanity is wanting.
 
One of the awful things about refugees and our country is that the media is not allowed to visit, let alone photograph what is happening in our off shore ‘processing’ prisons. There is a hefty fine for any journalist who breaches this ‘rule’.
 
It’s not only this blocking of media that is puzzling, it’s also the lack of reporting true facts that have many of us wondering just WHO is in charge? What part of the media is bending to the whims of the current government by not reporting what is happening -  and allowing untruths about refugees to flourish?
​No, they are NOT illegal!
 
And, who could - or should be, but is unable to - even start to work out a humane solution to this horrendous problem of refugees seeking asylum?

We know that the awful (yet obscenely costly) treatment of refugees (in Manus Island & Nauru) has not really ‘stopped the boats’ as claimed by politicians. Boats continue to head for Australia, but are ‘scuttled’ (Border Force expression) or ‘turned around’. Any information as to what happens to the people on these boats is not forthcoming, but I guess it is not a happy outcome.
 
But, we mustn’t think of that in case we find compassion creeping into our minds, thus undoing ‘the hard-won success of the last few years’ – that is, the mythical ‘stopping of the boats’: the method used to (supposedly) dissuade asylum seekers from seeking help and safety in Australia.
 
There must be a better way.

​I don’t really like cats. There, I’ve said it!
Two reasons: My main concern is that feral cat numbers are now out of control in Australia.
To research statistics provides frightening figures: Although the number of domestic (pet) cats in Australia is estimated at around 2.7 million, it is claimed that there are over 18 million feral cats.
The figures suggest that each feral cat kills between 5 and 30 Australian native species each day.
Think about that! Conservation scientists guess that 20 BILLION native animals are being killed each year by feral cats.
That’s 75 Million a day!
Australian Wildlife Conservancy CEO, Mr Atticus Fleming, investigating feral cats in 2014, found over 40 native frogs in the stomach of ONE captured feral cat.
My other reason is from more personal experience.
A few short years ago, when I lived in the country, we used to delight in watching a group of blue wrens who visited us constantly and lived amongst the native bushes in our garden and in the overhead spreading grape vines.
When a cat-owning family moved into a property just over our back fence, their cat paid us a few visits and decimated the entire blue wren family.
So it’s not only feral cats that kill. Pet cats also kill.
And,  in a red gum reserve, about 500 metres from our country house, cats were found stalking and killing  little sugar gliders. These were not feral cats, they were pet cats allowed to roam freely.
Now that I live in a more suburban setting, I am not free of cat problems. A neighbourhood cat (there may be more than one) comes and digs in our front garden and leaves smelly ‘messages’ that are difficult to be cope with. It also leaves paw marks over our car, so I know it is walking around at night time. What else is it doing? What is it killing?
Many councils now insist on registering each and every pet cat – but does that happen? And, even when it does, do cat owners make sure their cat remains indoors all day and night?
I can understand people wanting to keep a cat. They are good pets: quiet and (mostly) clean. They need less looking after than a dog; no need for daily walks and they are happy to be left alone. But…but…
We need a huge public awareness campaign about keeping cats
BUT…but…but, the other day when I was shopping in the supermarket, I watched a frail elderly man stop by the cat food shelves and slowly select and examine several small containers of cat food.
To see the concentration on his face as he took a long while to choose the appropriate dinner for his pet cat almost melted my hard cat-hating heart. And I could see how important to some people having a feline companion is. To that old man, his cat may be the only thing that keeps him content; a companion to care for and a reason for living even.
Oh, boy. What a dilemma.
But please people, back the cause for eliminating feral cats and, if you do own a cat as a pet, please don’t allow it to roam free.
***
I am very pleased to discover that the world's largest cat fence is now being constructed at Newhaven Station in Central Australia.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Ah, nothing like a juicy pear… Yum!

But…Glancing through the news one morning last week I spied a story about pear growers in Australia. They are, according to this report, suffering financial loss due to the low price they are receiving for their pears. Some pear-growing farmers are under severe financial stress this season, with mounting debts - and others are barely breaking even.

The article particularly caught my attention as I had just eaten a most delicious pear for breakfast. In fact I had eaten at least one delicious pear every day for a couple of weeks.

It was not only the cheap price of the pears that had attracted me and led to my purchases (and here I now feel a sense of guilt) but I have always enjoyed pears and this year the pears seem even tastier, sweeter and juicier than ever.

I must admit that because of their remarkably low prices, I have bought even more than I can eat for breakfast and have stewed a kilogram or two, which I have frozen for later; later, when pear season is over.

Am I one of only a few who love this fruit?
Wake up, people and eat a pear!

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, in the forests of Sumatra and Borneo the excessive proliferation of palm oil plantations is causing a huge threat to the existence of not only the stunning Sumatran tigers but also to the beautiful orang-utans.

Palm oil is now the most widely used vegetable oil in the world.
And why? Because multi-national big business snack producers need massive amounts of palm oil for the production of crisps, margarine, ice-cream, instant noodles, chocolate and even shampoo – and, in fact, about half of all packaged food.
​
Palm oil is valued not only because it’s cheaper than many other oils but its use helps maintain the shelf life of snack foods.
So, obviously it would be in great demand.

How much is an average packet of crisps? Well, a 175 gram pack is about $3.30; a 165 gram pack of Twisties is $4.
Quite expensive for a regular snack -  and how healthy are these in your child’s diet?

What about a fresh pear?

At (currently) less than $2 a kilogram, I’m sure a pear is of far more value in every way than a packet of chips.

A kilogram of pears usually gives you at least 5 pears, so at $2 per kg, that’s about 40 cents each.

So, ‘do yourself a favour’ (as someone once said) and swap snack foods for pears and experience the joy of eating a juicy sweet pear while helping the hard-working farmers.

And, by the way, growing fruit trees is far more than planting a few trees and then, later, picking the fruit they produce. It’s bloody hard work!
 
PS: Yes, I know… I hear you!
Everyone is ‘time poor’ now and no one has the time or patience to cut up a pear, put it on a plate and eat its deliciousness slowly - when it’s so much easier to grab a packet of some sort of snack, gobble it down and toss the wrapper away! (Sigh!)

​It seems that the world is in a state half of ‘who cares?’ and half of ‘what a worrying time’. There is so much negativity surrounding current politics and politicians in most countries. I have been prompted to share a poem that appeared on my Face Book page the other day, (already shared by someone else) that seemed to epitomise the latest trend in hopelessness felt towards our world situation.

Here it is:

Pity the Nation  
“Pity the nation whose people are sheep,
and whose shepherds mislead them.
Pity the nation whose leaders are liars, whose sages are silenced,
and whose bigots haunt the airwaves.
Pity the nation that raises not its voice,
except to praise conquerors and acclaim the bully as hero
and aims to rule the world with force and by torture.
Pity the nation that knows no other language but its own
and no other culture but its own.
Pity the nation whose breath is money
and sleeps the sleep of the too well fed.
Pity the nation — oh, pity the people who allow their rights to erode
and their freedoms to be washed away.
My country, tears of thee, sweet land of liberty.”

This poem was written by Lawrence Ferlinghetti, an American poet and painter (now aged 99; the owner of the ‘City of Light’ bookstore in San Francisco.

On researching these words, I discovered that not only was that this poem written, not this year, but 11 years ago. What I had imagined to be a comment on the US Trump ‘situation’, was written well before Donald Trump was even on the political radar. (In fact it was when George W. Bush was in office)

But how about this?
‘Pity the nation whose leaders are liars, whose sages are silenced,
and whose bigots haunt the airwaves…’   
True?

The other interesting fact (and I should have recognised and known this) was that this Ferlinghetti poem, entitled ‘Pity the Nation’ was an updated (borrowed) version of the like-titled poem, ‘Pity the Nation’ written by the Lebanese/American poet and artist, Kahlil Gibran in his book ‘The Garden of The Prophet’.

It was written sometime in the early 20th century, when a more mild mannered (& behaved!) president was in charge (Calvin Coolidge) so maybe not written about that particular political climate or situation, but aimed more at civilisation in general.
It is well worth reading – and thinking about.

Here it is:

“Pity the nation that is full of beliefs and empty of religion. 
​Pity the nation that wears a cloth it does not weave 
and eats a bread it does not harvest. 

Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero, 
and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful. 

Pity a nation that despises a passion in its dream, 
yet submits in its awakening. 

Pity the nation that raises not its voice 
save when it walks in a funeral, 
boasts not except among its ruins, 
and will rebel not save when its neck is laid 
between the sword and the block. 

Pity the nation whose statesman is a fox, 
whose philosopher is a juggler, 
and whose art is the art of patching and mimicking 

Pity the nation that welcomes its new ruler with trumpeting, 
and farewells him with hooting, 
only to welcome another with trumpeting again. 

Pity the nation whose sages are dumb with years 
and whose strongmen are yet in the cradle. 

Pity the nation divided into fragments, 
each fragment deeming itself a nation.”

( Kahlil Gibran, ( 1883-1931) The Garden of The Prophet)

Have any words been better suited to NOW?

And…How true is this part?
​
“Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero, 
and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful...”

And was it ever thus? We can only sigh!

Yearning for a bike of my own was one of my major pre-occupations when I was a child. Bicycles were a precious item and you had to really earn ownership of one.
Over time I cadged rides off other kids, including my big sister, just for the sheer pleasure of being able to ride a bike for a few minutes.
A bicycle was a valued possession and parents had to invest a substantial amount to provide their offspring with a Malvern Star or Healing.
I eventually became the proud owner of a bike on my 12th birthday. It was sturdy and reliable and very red.

As years went by bikes became more easily accessible as the raw materials used for their manufacture became cheaper and more readily available.

My 12th birthday bike remained an important part of my life for decades. It never needed repairing. It was still a solid ‘performer’ when my own daughter was nine years old and she was thrilled to have it – updated with a smart new seat & handle-bars – the frame now bright green and purple.

But chain stores now offer cheap bikes of an amazing sort, size and colour and every kid everywhere seems to own their first bike by the time they are about three years old.
As the children grow, a new and bigger bike replaces the old one and even the charity shops have stopped valuing donations of used bikes; there are just too many!
Bikes are everywhere!

Imagine (all those years ago) ten-year-old me seeing multiple bikes scattered and dumped all over the place. What an unbelievable sight that would have been!

In major cities, abandoned bikes of many hues now dot surrounding footpaths, parks, rivers and trees; left to lie idle and trip the unwary. A blot on the landscape, you might say: The result of loosely controlled bike-sharing schemes gone feral.

The intrinsic value of bicycles has gone.
​
From a valued and yearned for acquisition to a scourge on city streets, bikes have come a long way. And it’s not a very happy story.
 
PS: How many bike borrowers realise that the share bike they rode and dumped is magically nabbing detailed information from the card they earlier inserted?