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Listen to this, ScoMo!

11/15/2018

I am having trouble finding words to talk about the current ‘state of The Nation’, as in Australia - but also the US with the Trump situation - and even UK and the Brexit debacle - well, everywhere, I suppose.
The level of awfulness and incompetence in ‘world leaders’ seems to be something we should be seriously concerned about.

Speaking as an Australian citizen, I am appalled at the behaviour of our Prime Minister who is trying to portray himself as a ‘real Aussie bloke’.
I, for one, am insulted to think that (in the PM’s opinion) we are all yokels who love nothing better than wearing stupid, logo bearing baseball caps, eating meat pies and speaking like a drongo!
And, if you don’t know what a drongo** is (in Aus speak) just take a listen to our PM.

To make matters worse, the plans he has for our country seem to mainly concern reducing funding for schools and universities, cutting hospital and medical funding, absolute meanness towards people receiving social security payments and (perhaps worst of all) horror mistreatment of refugees, who have been left ‘rotting’ in off-shore detention facilities for decades.

At the same time, the PM (or 'ScoMo', as he prefers to be called - for heaven's sake!) is throwing absolute millions (amounting to billions) around to his mates for ridiculous statues, war memorials and suspect Great Barrier Reef organisations.

As I said, I am having trouble finding words, so here I offer words from someone who knew what to say.

From Mahatma Ghandi:

‘Man becomes great exactly in the degree in which he works for the welfare of his fellow-men.’

Could you please take heed of these words, ScoMo?

** The word drongo is used in Australian as a mild form of insult meaning "idiot" or "stupid fellow". This usage derives from an Australian racehorse of the same name in the 1920s that never won despite many places.

Prevention is better: Teeth, Earthquake, Coal

10/24/2018

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!

Money = privilege?

9/18/2018

How’s this for a great – and true – quote?
‘There are those who have had the good fortune to never have felt anything other than the silkiness of privilege, their bubbles so perfect they cannot feel the gravel underneath.’
Rick Morton, (‘One Hundred Years of Dirt’, P 164)

Oh, so true!
As the divide between the haves and the have-nots widens, the fat cats are growing fatter day by day. The wealthiest 1%* are gathering up their billions - along with their privileges - and the ordinary person is forgotten.
The wealth gap is huge!

Australia’s politicians especially are out of touch with reality and normal everyday people.
Remember the Prime Minister (he’s gone now!) who, when asked about the problem concerning young people’s inability to afford a home of their own, suggested that the solution was for their parents to finance them! He honestly had no idea that most parents of young people were working two jobs in an effort to pay their own mortgage. (He’s also the one who tossed a spare million + dollars into his party to help along the election).

Out of touch?
You bet!
But money rules!

Emphasising this, in last weekend’s newspapers, we read about a contender for a place in the Liberal Party of Australia.
What was so astounding about this ‘news’ was that it focussed on how much MONEY he (the candidate) would bring to the party. Not how much knowledge, wisdom or skill he had; it was how much money he could generate! And this was the focus of the NEWS!
In what sounded like paeans of praise, he was described as ‘the Million Dollar man for the Liberal party.

And here I quote (Sydney Morning Herald, 15/09/18):
Some of Sydney's wealthiest business leaders are lining up to throw money behind the new candidate for Wentworth, Dave Sharma…… [he] is expected to bring in huge donations from the business and Jewish communities……[his] ability to draw significant donations would be "eye-watering".
“Eye watering” amounts of money? So, this section of politics has now descended into simply embracing the POWER OF MONEY as the most important aspect of their ability to represent us, ‘the people’.

Money, it seems, is no longer needed just as funding to advertise broadly and powerfully when an election nears, but is to signify their entitlement to dominate.

Is it now the measure of wealth that decides who is worthy to represent the people?

But, what about policies?
The obligations?
Any?
How about strategies for services for the common man/woman?
Anything?
The Economy?
Climate Change?
Education?
Employment?
Environment?
Refugees?

No, it seems that money is the arbiter.

Large companies (usually) only donate to political parties in order to influence policy in their favour, so what’s the go here?
Not hard to figure out, I suppose!

It is such a shame that ‘running the country’ has little to do with doing the best for the nation’s people. It is more like a popularity contest to see who has the most money.
I can only lament the demise of ‘The Lucky Country’.
It seems that money and privilege are how we are expected to measure value.

To again quote Rick Morton, from his book, ‘One Hundred Years of Dirt’:

‘There are those who have had the good fortune to never have felt anything other than the silkiness of privilege, their bubbles so perfect they cannot feel the gravel underneath.’

* The top 1% in Australia now own more wealth that the bottom 70% combined!

Think about it.

What Disappointing Times

9/4/2018

It’s all so disappointing!
The politicians are disgusting, the honey is not real, the strawberries are too small, and the music has died!

First of all, let me have a big whinge about Australian politicians: What a bloody shambles! One day we watched a LNP politician put his hand on the shoulder of the Prime Minister and state how he supported him totally and yet, hidden in his other hand he held the weapon with which he back stabbed him - the next day.
Dirty backroom deals ultimately resulted in an ‘et tu Brute’ moment with a PM being booted out and two of the most awful contenders vying for the ‘top job’. And, while we may have missed out on the worst of those aspirants, what do we have now? A supercilious self promoter increasing the divide between the general public and the RWNJs; an untrustworthy idiot pretending to be a strong ‘moderate’ conservative leader with a (dodgy) Christian touch! And he lies!
Great! What a disappointment.

Meanwhile, Aretha Franklin died and we were reminded that music has also died - and songs are no longer songs. Sure, Aretha’s music was not always filled with sweet, gentle tunes but we understood the words she sang and they were presented with genuine feeling and soul.
That music and singing has been replaced by something called rap. I can’t say ‘rap music’ because it isn’t music and I can’t use the word ‘songs’, because they are not songs. They are just noise and they (raps or tracks? I don’t know) all sound the same! Luckily the words can seldom be heard clearly, which is just as well as they ooze with death and destruction and bad sex! Music? No, disappointment!

John McCain died and we were reminded what a decent politician he was, no matter whose ‘camp’ he was in. He didn’t manage to hold the top job to which he aspired but remained a truly decent man. He showed the world that politicians CAN be decent - but no longer are.
What did the US – and, indeed the world - do to deserve the Trumpian monster who now resides in the White House? Disappointing indeed!

And now we are being told that the honey we buy is fake honey! What is it? Cooked and watered down honey? Just sugar syrup? Rice syrup? What??? Honey? Honey is fake?
Now, that’s what I call a disappointment!

Then a report comes to tell us that strawberry farmers have dumped hundreds of tons of strawberries because they are too small! Too small? That’s what the supermarkets have told them. What rubbish! Anyone knows that the small strawberries are the best and the sweetest and the ones with real strawberry flavour. Anyone who has ever grown strawberries will tell you that strawberries eaten straight after picking are the best. Home grown strawberries are small and soft and sweet and amazingly luscious. They are nothing like the huge, red-on-outside, white-in-centre, crunchy (crunchy? yes, crunchy!) strawberries we find in supermarkets.

So, all in all, disappointment reigns!

Something Different...BOOKS

8/9/2018

AND NOW FOR SOMETHING DIFFERENT:

This is not a book review…but…
I am a reader. A book reader; a reader of memoirs and a reader of interesting – or different- novels. I have recently read two books that have both ‘blown me away’ (as the saying goes!)

The first one is Trent Dalton’s ‘Boy Swallows Universe’, an utterly amazing and beguiling novel. It sets you wondering about where on earth the author found inspiration for these wanderings into love, fear, mystery, magic, adventure, family dynamics and oh, so much more.

Talk about ‘boy swallows universe’, as I continued reading, it soon transformed me into ‘person swallows book’, or more accurately, I suppose. ‘book swallows person’ as I became enveloped by the prose and all that made its way into my mind’s eye.
_______________

Alannah Hill’s memoir, ‘Buttterfly on a Pin’ is likewise fascinating and intriguing with stories that boggle the mind. But this story is a memoir and therefore the tales told therein are true stories. Stories of Alannah’s childhood and young life that shock and amaze; that confuse and leave one breathless as to the thought that all she relates is/was true.

And then you think of the Alannah Hill you thought you knew. The Alannah Hill who was a tiny bit crazy in the way she designed and showed wonderful zany, yet exceedingly beautiful fashion that every young woman and girl – both here and overseas - admired and lusted after.

How can these two Alannahs be reconciled? The poor and badly treated and the famously successful and brilliant ? What a performance! A performance of resilience, courage, and enormous talent combined with bravery beyond comprehension.
Her book exhausts and inspires the reader and you are left almost gasping for relief.

A sentence, written of her thoughts as she prepares to make a speech, “I tumbled from the car like a frightened bird in an op shop handbag….” has to be one of my favourite sentences ever!
_________________

But, back to Trent Dalton and ‘Boy Swallows Universe’. His words are fascinating, riveting and, at times, difficult to comprehend but, unlike Allannah Hill’s, they are complete fiction. But are they?

When I was about halfway through reading ‘Boy Swallows Universe’ I happened upon an audio interview with the author, Trent Dalton, speaking with Richard Fidler from ABC Radio. (Conversations with Richard Fidler, see ABC listen app) and to my mix of delight and horror, I discovered that many of the book’s related incidents and characterisations were based in varied ways on the author’s real life experiences.
In the conversation Trent related memories from his childhood, and I suddenly understood!

It seems as if less than ideal childhood experiences (and that’s putting it mildly!) don’t always lead to future deprivation and criminality but can develop great minds and sublime story-telling. What a loss it would be to us, the readers, if both Trent and Alannah had experienced more normal, perhaps boring, childhoods.

So, two amazing tales; some parts totally true, others based on truths; two books so worth reading that they deserve re-reading – and again and again.

READ THEM!

PS: the only Alannah Hill garment I ever owned was a black lace top I bought on eBay that was the star turn in my wardrobe for many years. After years of wear, I sold it on – also on eBay - and I hope it still enjoys being someone’s special item designed by someone very, very special.

July 28th, 2018

7/28/2018

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!

Tidying up Twitter

7/20/2018

I belong to Twitter, in that I read the tweets of people whose opinions interest me. I follow 63 people and I have about the same amount of followers – some are people I know and some aren’t.
I have never been trolled, possibly because I rarely post a comment, even when I am in fervent agreement or fervent disagreement with a tweet.
But I have seen many awful (often quite foul) comments that sometimes accompany tweets as ‘replies’.

And here’s the topic I find interesting. The worse the response, the more likely it’s written by a man.
I read positive comments from both male and female members of the Twitterverse, but negative and insulting comments are mainly from men. Hateful comments are almost always from men.
Why is this so?

Now, please don’t start thinking that I am one of those females who claim that ‘all men are horrible’ or ‘all men hate women’ and so on, ad nauseam. I’m just stating that it’s usually men whose comments on Twitter and Face Book are the nasty ones.
I won’t quote any – that would be furthering their agenda. Anyone who follows Face Book or Twitter can see them easily enough. (And they’re usually anonymous).

I will never imply that ‘all men’ are anything. This month’s news story claiming that a woman said that ‘all men are rapists’ was blown out of all proportion and it also was not what was said.
But, but…there are SOME men who are horrible, there are SOME men who (seem to) hate women and there are SOME men who are rapists.
But it is not ALL men.

In my family- close and extended, in my circle of friends and amongst my work place acquaintances I have never come across any really horrible men or men who hate women or men who are rapists. In that I am fortunate. Nor do I know any men who post crude or hateful remarks as Twitter or Face Book comments.
But SOME men do.
Again, I’m tempted to give an example, but NO. Most don’t bear repeating.

There are people (mainly men) who post negative comments about politicians, which I suppose is understandable and even acceptable, but there are some men who post nasty comments about women, just because they don’t like how they look, what they wear, what colour their skin is - more than what they say.

Are there reasons why some men seem to dislike women? And why is it often subjects concerning empathy and compassion to which men react negatively? Has anyone researched this interesting topic?

BUT...
I am so pleased to read that Twitter is deleting (some of) some people’s followers. I haven’t studied much about this new development but what a good thing to have the worst of trolls, robot nasties and anonymous abusers eliminated.

And now for Something Different

7/3/2018

To change my usual whingeing approach, commenting on the problems of the world - and the actions of politicians of late, I decided to post a more lighthearted blog. Here's something to show that I don't spend all my time complaining!

I made a little book for little people. It has cut out pieces showing the first part of a picture, such as a goat's face for ‘a goat in a boat’ or a saucepan lid for ‘a lid on a kid’. Then there's a clue for ‘a lamb in a pram’, 'a snake on a cake', 'a star on a car', 'a mouse on a house', ‘a sock in a clock’ and more. Only when the page is turned is the rest of the picture revealed.
As an educator of small children I know that the use of rhyming words helps language development. This small example also gives the chance to discuss the appropriateness of each picture, including others such as: ‘a bug on a mug’, 'a frog in a log', 'a fish on a dish', 'a bee in a tree', 'a hen with a pen' and so on. (I had included 'a bride on a slide' - but I found that little kids don't often know what a bride is!)
Because of the cut-outs it is impossible for me to self publish this little book and because of its amateurish appearance no publisher would ever take it on. But I have had great pleasure in making it - and even duplicating it for a few little friends.
It’s been fun!

To decry a single 'act of compassion' ? Mr Dutton.

6/24/2018

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.

CATS: Pets or Killers? Love or hate?

6/4/2018

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.

Juicy Pear v Pack of Crisps

5/16/2018

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!)

Words to think on?

5/3/2018

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!

In Praise of Truckies

4/18/2018

Having just returned from a 2000 km trip south from the Gold Coast, Queensland to Victoria and back, I have had cause to ponder on the abilities of truck drivers.

About four hours from home on our last day we had the unnerving experience of almost being ‘wiped out’ by a semi-trailer.

There was a huge (and I mean HUGE) truck travelling in front of us, complete with pilot vehicles, front and back, with lights flashing. The truck was carrying some sort of oversized machinery.
It was a slow ride, but we weren’t concerned as we were content to travel at 80 kph while towing our small caravan.

As we made our way northwards on an ordinary (two-way) hilly country highway, there was little traffic - and vehicles heading south (towards us) were mostly cautious when passing the behemoth in front of us.
At one stage we could see a white car on the other side of the road, heading our way, closely followed by a very large and long semi-trailer. We assumed they would make careful progress passing the ‘monster’ as they continued along the road towards us.

As the white car proceeded alongside and past the huge loaded truck and the back pilot vehicle, for some reason, the car's driver slowed almost to a stop – remember there’s a loaded semi-trailer immediately behind it.

There seemed nowhere for the southbound semi to go but either into our little Volvo or into the almost stopped white car. The truck driver hit the brakes and all 22+ of his wheels locked in a mass of burning rubber as the back section began to ‘fish-tail’ towards us.

With mighty skill, the semi driver righted his vehicle, managing to miss us by a few inches.

We had no idea where any other vehicles were after that as we were enveloped in a thick fog of black and grey smoke from the skidding tyres. Being temporarily blinded, we slowed our car and waited for the smoke to clear.

Expecting to see mayhem but grateful for being left unscathed, we were surprised to see that everyone had escaped. The truck had miraculously missed ploughing into the car in front of it as well as missing us.

The foolish driver of that stopped car merrily (?!) continued on his way as the clever truck driver gathered his rig back on to the right track and off he also went.

Oh, how we wished we could have thanked him and praised him for his driving skills. But he was on a mission to deliver whatever load he had on board and he had driven off, heading south, while we slowly continued northwards.

The driver of the back pilot vehicle pulled over to the side of the road to regain his composure and maybe (we thought) to report the close shave.

How often do we hear comments bewailing the nuisance factor of large trucks driving along our roads and highways? I know I moan about them a lot, saying that such huge amounts of goods – whatever they may be – should be carried by train and that trucks are a danger to all other road users.
I worry about the safety aspect when out driving, after hearing talk of truckies working over-long hours and the possibility of them taking drugs to keep awake and I often wonder about those truckies and their ability to react in a tight situation. Would they cope? Are they the cause of many road fatalities?

Well, the truckie who had the ability to control his vehicle in the wake of the stupid action of a car driver will forever have my gratitude. His driving skills were magnificent and all I can do is hope and pray that he is an example of the ability held by most other truck drivers on our roads.

A big thank you to ‘our’ truckie on the Cunningham Highway, somewhere near Inglewood, Queensland, on April 16th. You were amazing!

Escape Time

4/1/2018

It’s time to haul out the little caravan and take a break; a break involving a slow and relaxing trip south, through New South Wales and Victoria.
It’s time to get away from the electronic world and its distractions.

No FaceBook, no Twitter, no news feeds.
No emails – unless, of course, we are tempted to stop in at a café that has wifi…(naughty?)

My phone will be used for necessary phone calls only. If it’s really important, we’ll eventually hear.

The world seems a toxic place right now with so many political situations around the globe festering on the brink of being (simply put) bad or mad.

But for a little while (for me and the bloke), it’s freedom from news about our Australian untrustworthy and self- serving politicians and their abhorrent behaviours.
It’s freedom from news of US’s execrable Donald Trump.
It’s freedom from stories of Russian interference and poisonings.
And freedom from reports about bloody cricketers.

Instead of catching up with The News, I’ll be browsing in op shops for books to read.

Back in a couple of weeks.

What's a Bike Worth?

3/19/2018

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?

Stop The Killing of Innocents

2/27/2018

To comment on the shooting of teenage students in USA two weeks ago is something I have been avoiding, mainly because the horror of it all is beyond words.

But, in the meantime, while we are reeling at the thought of guns in the US and the utter madness that permits anyone over 18 to buy an assault rifle* and the resultant massacres that are all too frequent…… meanwhile (as I said), meanwhile, what is also way beyond words, meanwhile (again), in Syria – in the same time frame, 500 civilians have been massacred in what is supposedly a justified war.
AND, of these 500 civilians, over 120 of them were children. (Take that in, if you can).

So 17 students were shot and killed in USA and almost the whole world is shaken and horrified – and rightly so. It is an abomination that this can happen in an otherwise peaceful school setting.
But, what of the children of all ages who have also been gunned down and bombed (to DEATH) in Syria? (And now, I read, have also been showered with deadly gas!)
What about those little lives? More than seven times the US toll of dead children happened in Syria – and that’s just the ‘tip of the iceberg’. These were just part of the civilian toll for the past 2 weeks. Not to mention the dead, injured and maimed people of all ages.
This is all beyond words, but I have to say it.

I am full of admiration for the young people in USA who are taking on the disgusting NRA.
It is such a shame that there is no matching movement to help the Syrians and others caught up in useless wars. And ‘USELESS’ is the operative word!

War never achieves anything! Nothing, except horror, injury and death.

My father was a soldier in the Northern Territory (Australia) way back during World War 2. He survived as he was not in Darwin when the Japanese rained bombs upon the land. And, for those almost 500 killed (just in Darwin) what was achieved? Nothing!
And now Australia and Japan are ‘best friends’. So what was that all about in the 1940s?

I have digressed from talking about the American school massacre to the meaning of war.
I’m sorry, it’s all beyond words.

And our Prime Minister wants Australia to boost its arms dealing..... Beyond words...

*AR-15-style rifles have been used in recent mass shootings at in Aurora, Colo.; Santa Monica and San Bernardino, Calif.; Orlando, Florida and now Parkland.

Dealing in horror

2/5/2018

Right now I’ve been putting off writing a blog post as I feel I should (should?) be writing about some of what is happening here politically in Australia but much of it makes me feel quite ill. It’s unpleasant even thinking about it, let alone writing about it and I have to I wonder why news journalists are not screaming in response to some of the latest ‘news’. Where are the headlines about inequality and horror?

Here’s just one instance: our Prime Minister has, this past week, announced that he would like Australia to become one of the top 10 weapons producers in the world. What? Join the arms dealing business? Does he even know the reason ‘arms’ are made? Their purpose (whether spoken or not), Mr Prime Minister, is to wreak havoc on others (not us, of course) and actually kill and maim them. Did you not realise that?

And, did you also not realise that, once these weapons are produced and sold to other nations (oh, so much rubbing of hands in glee, at the thought of the money) did you not ever think that the nation that bought these weapons, might one day NOT be our friend and perhaps decide to obliterate us? Ever think of that?
And…how about taking a look at footage of some of the worst after-effect scenes in (current) war torn countries. Nice, huh? Good thing to do? Would you like that? Would you like your luxury home to end up like that? Thought not.

The other terrible result of arms/weapons use is that, once their purpose has been achieved, the consequence is more than likely to be more and more people bombed out of their homes and their homeland and turned into homeless and terrified refugees. Dead, injured and/or without a home.

And, what does our Prime Minister think about that? Well, what he does is ‘stop the boats’ (he loves that phrase) to make sure that none of these refugees ever tries to come to Australia for refuge - to seek asylum. Nice confluence of ideas: produce and sell weapons to be used in conflicts all over the world, while refusing asylum to the resulting human detritus. Nice one! (Of course, often to help START the war in the first place!)

So, there you have it.

That’s partly why I feel unable to write anything hopeful or positive while I watch this awful approach by our ‘leader’.

I will only briefly mention other worries, such as our current politicians’ promotion of COAL, the neglect of crucial environment issues and the curbing of much R & D in universities and scientific studies.

But, it seems that to be in the world’s ‘top 10’ in the arms race is the position to aspire towards.

Where are the headlines criticising this decision? Where are the protests?

Distress is Relative.

1/15/2018

‘Natural’ disasters galore: There’s snow on the Sahara desert and rising sea levels are swallowing up the Pacific nation of Kiribati. For us, here in Australia, it’s been the hottest year on record. There has been weird weather all over the world – hurricanes, heatwaves and floods. California’s horrific bushfires decimated all the trees and subsequently, when heavy rains came, deadly mud slides swallowed up houses and people.
Looks like there’s something to this ‘Climate Change’ theory, eh? Not much fun! And Donald Trump is still in the WH, creating chaos every time he opens his mouth.

In resisting the urge to add to the awfulness of some of what we face in 2018, I searched my memory box to find a more ‘normal’ story of horror and worry; something from simpler times.
So, here’s a story from ‘long ago’:

An Unexpected Death
When we lived in the country in a rented cottage by a river, I used to love arriving home from a day’s teaching. It was the perfect place to relax after a day spent with the disabled kids in my care. Once home and out of my car the weariness seemed to just fall away and I would immediately feel refreshed.

Before I opened the back door, I would walk over to the hen house and see how many eggs our chooks had laid during the day.
They were just very ordinary white chooks – nothing special – but we were fond of them and they gave generously of their beautiful deep-yellow-yolk eggs, day by day.

On warm afternoons, they often sunbathed in the dusty driveway and I would give the car’s horn a quick toot as I arrived home and they would scatter away.

One afternoon as I happily turned into the driveway, I hit the car horn and whether no sound came out or whether I was driving a little faster than usual, one dust-bathing chook was too slow to move and the car ran into her.
In panic, I leapt out f the car to check the ‘damage’.

It was obvious; instead of a clucking, wing-flapping hen, there was a sad but rather large and messy pile of white feathers. No blood, just a dead chook.
I was mortified.

Almost worse was to come when I had to bury the poor thing. Sad and all as I was, perhaps the most distressing part of the whole unfortunate incident was discovering what a LARGE parcel a dead chook is.

That day and for many days afterwards, my happy home-coming was ruined by the memory of an unplanned chook slaying and resultant awful task of burying that unexpectedly large feathered body.

(Sad, but true!)

2018...nearly here!

12/29/2017

Ah, a new year is almost here. Hello 2018!

Quotes relating to New Year’s Resolutions offer an abundance of deep and meaningful messages relating to enriching a ‘new beginning’ and so forth. There are also references to casting off bad habits as well as many generally quite wonderful (?) words to inspire.
As for me, I have decided to be a little practical.
Here are My New Year’s Resolutions: (Try not to doze off with boredom as you read through them. Realistic they may be but inspiring they are not).
Here we go…
I resolve:

To use public transport more often.
To smile at the check-out person (there are very few left!)
To snooze in the afternoon whenever I feel like doing so.
To read at least one book a week.
To finish writing my memoir.
T o visit the beach more often.
To repaint all the skirting boards in our house. AND…
To endeavour to keep these resolutions.

Why does anyone do this? Make New Year’s Resolutions, that is. I have never before bothered to make any such promises to myself. Certainly I have never written any down.
It will be interesting to see if I manage to achieve anything on this meagre list.

You’ll notice that I haven’t included ‘climb Mount Everest’ or ‘learn to fly a plane’ or ‘try skateboard riding’. Nor have I mentioned ‘learn to not be afraid of spiders’ or ‘tidy my desk’. No use listing the impossible.

Minor as it may seem, my aim ‘to use public transport more often’ is possibly my most genuine and serious resolution. Petrol is expensive. Driving on our roads is scary and you can’t read a book when driving (see No 4). Our city has buses, trams and trains that can safely deliver travellers anywhere, so I plan to use them.

Resolution No 5 is ‘to finish writing my memoir’. This is certainly the most ambitious AND, unfortunately, the same aim I had for 2017 - and failed. So, perhaps second-time-lucky – (although luck has little to do with it) but I’m a year older and a year lazier. (See No 3) so it may be hard.

Now…I had thought of aiming to stop using cash when shopping, but (see No 2) I prefer to deal (and chat) with a human being.

As for visiting the beach more often – well I had to include something pleasant to counteract the awful aim of (No 7) painting the skirting boards. Such a horrible job but the need of a coat of paint on them is starting to annoy me. (Of course, I could simply avoid looking down at skirting boards when I clean the floor. Or maybe stop cleaning the floor?). But visiting the beach more often is do-able.

I will write these eight simple aims for 2018 somewhere noticeable and see how I go.

Yes, I know it doesn’t seem much to do, with a whole year in which to fit it all, but when I’m not achieving my resolutions I will be otherwise simply living…and living simply (Ooops, there’s another resolution I should have added).

There may even be a small holiday in the year somewhere…so, there’s and extra New Year’s resolution: to have a holiday.

Anyway, list done.
Happy New Year, everyone!

Christmas tree, Oh Christmas tree...

12/18/2017

With amazement, but not surprise, I read the following: “The department store’s traditional tree is now called a “Grand Pine Tree”, the snow-coloured version a “White Forest Tree”, with other styles including the “Black Forest Tree”, “Mayfair Tree” and “Atlanta Tree”.”

Little by little, the word ‘Christmas’ is sliding out of view - and out of minds. Christmas is becoming ‘Holiday Time’ and ‘Seasonal’ whatever. The music playing in the malls and shops is mostly general noisy ‘pop’ stuff with the occasional Christmassy song - but hardly ever a carol. Well, that is, a carol that is recognisable as one of the (old?) stirring type of religious – and dare I say ‘worshipful’ - carols.

The shoppers in Westfield are intent on ‘getting’, which does indeed eventually turn into ‘giving’ I suppose, but there seems little evidence to inspire happiness, peace and love in the faces of people we see when we brave the hordes of shoppers intent on hauling those piles of glittery junk that now symbolise Christmas.

The other evening I saw a ‘holiday tree’ advertised on tv. A ‘holiday tree’? Well, it certainly looked like a Christmas tree to me, but, there you have it – it was a ‘holiday tree’! That’s blatantly ridiculous!

Every year we hear stories (rumours?) of why it’s now called ‘holiday time’ and not Christmas time. It is, ‘they’ say, so as to be inclusive and not to upset people who would like to celebrate at this time of year and yet are not Christians.
What?
Apart from the fact that I consider this notion to be an absolute fabrication, I also wonder how ANYONE nowadays considers Christmas to have much to do with actual Christianity.
Well, do you?

It seems a strange, even sad, state of affairs when whole communities are pursuing frantic endeavours to not only ‘shop till they drop’ and max out their credit cards but are being sucked into re-branding this festive season, thus removing its original premise.

‘Yeah, yeah’ people say, ‘we know the story of Baby Jesus and the shepherds and all that, but….’

But what?

But, wasn’t that what started all this hullaballoo?

That the baby born in a stable, because ‘there was no room in the inn’* (and, of course, the rest of the story) is the reason and substance behind ‘our’ Christmas?

Think about it. There was ‘no room in the inn’. There are currently hundreds of people in our towns for whom there is ‘no room in the inn’; no room anywhere. They are homeless.
They are probably even more poor and needy than the parents of Baby Jesus.
Perhaps that’s the angle that Christmas giving should be more generally aimed towards. Instead of the mass hysteria of shopping sprees, decorations, Santa Claus, over indulged children and excessive partying, eating and drinking, there should be more than just a tiny thought to that other approach; the approach of really giving to our neighbours.

Just a thought.

It certainly would be less stressful – and cheaper!

Anyone?

I’m not being a ‘party pooper’, nor am I a Scrooge or a religious ‘nut’. I enjoy giving gifts as much as anyone, but I’m also pointing out how far we have come as a society from the first meaning - and the first idea of celebrating Christmas…(a time that may soon be just known as the end of year ‘Holiday Time’ celebration with no mention of Christmas).

Just remember we are supposedly celebrating at this time of year because, over 2000 years ago, there was a baby born in a stable when ‘there was no room in the inn’.......

What’s that got to do with glitter and excessive consumerism?

Anyway, I wish you all a very Happy Christmas.
And would you like a “Grand Pine Tree”, with that?

*(Luke 2:7) ‘And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.’
(KJB)

Earworm in my brain

12/14/2017

It’s 1 am, I’ve been in bed for about 2 hours and I can’t sleep. All through my head a song is spinning, over and over: ‘South of the border, down Mexico way…’
On and on it goes: ‘…That's where I fell in love, where the stars above came out to play..’
And, then (I think there’s a bit missing here, but, who cares?) ‘…The mission bells told me that I mustn't stay - south of the border down Mexico way..’
And then something like ‘..I, yi, yi yiiii., I yii, yii yii….’ But I have no idea if that’s part of the song – probably not – but that’s what’s playing in my head.

Why THIS song?
I didn’t even realise that I knew it!
I certainly don’t like it! I have never purposely played it – either on CD, on-line, from a cassette tape (remember those?) and never on the piano. Nor have I any recollection of hearing it recently on the radio.

Where the hell did it come from?

Any WHY (and HOW?) do I remember the words – and the tune?
And why, oh why is it playing non-stop in my head?
And at 1 am?

I’d heard that this phenomenon is called an ‘earworm’, so I Googled ‘earworm’ and found that it can also be called "involuntary musical imagery", and "stuck song syndrome".
‘Stuck song syndrome’ describes it well - and that is surely what I had.

Thank goodness ‘South of the border’ is gone from my brain now. I am very grateful - and hope it never returns.

But, but…if I can remember words and music from a song I have never cared about, how is it that sometimes I can’t remember a person’s name, or the name of a place I visited and loved, or a flower I love - or even just a word?
How come I often can’t remember where I put my specs? Or what’s the number plate on my car?

Memory, you are indeed a strange thing!

So this is Christmas

12/9/2017

Yes, yes, yes….we all know that December is well & truly here and, although we have been bombarded with Christmas themes for well over a month, it is now getting serious - only two weeks till Christmas Day, with promoting, selling and buying reaching a fever pitch!

Sometimes you just have to be brave enough – or desperate enough – to visit to a large shopping complex and be confronted with the horrendous scene that greets you:
Different (& appalling) music blasting forth from each shop, flustered women (yes, mainly women), a few grumpy men, excited and squabbling kids, with trolleys laden with crappy stuff – no doubt destined to be part of the escalating land-fill awfulness by mid next year.

So, this is Christmas (so someone once said - and sang).

And here is what’s being said in the newspaper about children this Christmas:
“RMIT marketing expert Con Stavros suspects pester power is worse at this time of year. But he says parents may also welcome it.”
WHAT? Parents WELCOME their kids pestering them about presents?

It gets worse:
"I often think parents feel uncomfortable not knowing what to buy for their children,"
Parents ‘FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE’ not knowing what to buy?
What parents are so unfamiliar with their own kids that they have no idea what to buy them for a Christmas gift and thus 'FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE’?

Okay, okay, so some parents are unaware of the preferences of their own children. That may be true. Seems strange, but it may be true.

And, yes, I do remember a Christmas eons ago, when, as a small child, I received a gift that wasn’t quite what I had been hoping for. Perhaps some disappointment popped into my psyche and perhaps lingered for a day. But, from a long distance of time, I realise that it was not an earth-shattering experience and was more likely to have been part of good life education. As in:
it’s never a good learning experience to always get exactly what you want.

Back to the expert:
"Finding a gift that has some meaning, has some impact, can be challenging."
Challenging? Intelligence, anyone? How challenging can it be to find an appropriate gift for your own kid/s? And how much of an ‘impact’ and ‘meaning’ does a gift have to have?

If you really don’t know what activity your kids enjoy, ask them! But, oh, that’s right – they’re already ‘pestering’!

But, please don’t forget that it’s also bloody important for them to understand if their wish list is out of your range as far as spending ability goes.

Yet another first world problem methinks!

WWJD?

Finger print free fridge door

12/5/2017

A woman was being interviewed about a new product that made stainless steel fridge doors fingerprint free. With this wonderful new invention you could now open and close the refrigerator door and not leave marks.
“It’s life-changing!” exclaimed the woman.

Really?
No, it’s not.

If you lose a limb – that can be life-changing.
If a close family member or partner dies – that can be life- changing.
A divorce can be life-changing.
Moving to live in a foreign country can be life-changing.
Having a baby can be life-changing.
Lots of things can be life-changing but having a fridge door that doesn’t show finger marks is not, in my opinion, a life-changing situation.

I may be wrong…but if it is, then I do wonder what sorts of lives some people are living.

But, what would I know? My fridge is so old-fashioned, it’s white.

A Dollar of Pumkin

11/22/2017

Yesterday at the fruit market pumpkins were $2. Couldn’t resist buying one.

This morning I made soup. Fried up a chopped onion in the big pot, then added chopped up pumpkin (only used half), two chopped carrots, a potato and some celery. To this I added brown rice, red lentils and split peas that I had soaked overnight. (Not much – just about a tablespoon of each).

When all this started to smell delicious as it gently fried, I added about 2 litres of water and three chicken stock cubes.

From the freezer I took containers of chicken stock made from the remains of long-ago-eaten chicken and added about one litre of that and stirred in half a teaspoon each of salt and curry powder. Once the soup was gently bubbling away I left it to simmer for a couple of hours.

Later (when the soup is cooled a little) I will puree it in the food processor, together with herbs from the garden, including parsley, rosemary, garlic chives and a little mint.
Tonight, it will be served hot with a sprinkle of extra parsley and a blob of Greek yoghurt. We will eat it with a thick slice of warm buttered Turkish bread.
Yum!

Now, I know that there are only two of us to eat this, but it will do for about three meals. And yes, I know that the energy needed to cook the soup probably cost a small amount (even taking into account our solar panels) and the vegetables and other additions originally cost something – as did the Turkish bread…BUT it will be a delicious and filling meal and all for $1 pumpkin +.

Can’t help but have a feeling of smugness as I contemplate my old-fashioned frugality!

‘Yes’ or ‘No’: what will it be? The time has come.

11/13/2017

Way back in October last year, I posted a blog on the SSM debate and the proposed plebiscite. In the blog I wrote that, as it was ‘none of my business’, I would most likely just leave any voting form blank – that is, if it did come to pass that we, the populace, would get to vote on the matter.
My ideas have changed in the year since I wrote that. Although I still think that it is none of my business, I did come to see the need to vote.
And the need to vote ‘Yes’.
I learnt that there are more than a few people for whom this decision is very important; a vote in favour of SSM would give them a feeling of equality that they have missed out on and a feeling of inclusion instead of exclusion.

In the past few weeks people have been willing to disclose how they voted.
I have not pressed people for their views but some have been offered.

I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised by my church-going Christian friends telling me that they voted ‘No’ because it (SSM) didn’t seem right and didn’t match their Christian views on marriage. I refrained from pointing out the obvious fact that this debate concerned civil marriage and has no effect on religious ceremonies at all. I also didn’t point out that the founder of their Christian Church maintained that the most important ‘law’ of all is ‘to love your neighbour as yourself’ as well as the so-called ‘Golden Rule’ to ‘do unto others as you would have them do unto you’*. Surely that means (basically) to be kind and loving towards ALL people and not just the ones who subscribe to your personal beliefs.

So… anyway, here were a couple of ‘No’ votes.

Friends of this same couple also voted ‘No’. I was a little taken aback to hear that, as they have a gay son. When I stated my surprise I was told that the gay son also voted ‘No’, because he could see nothing good in marriage. Ah, so no thoughts of compassion for his gay comrades, then?

So… that’s another three ‘No’ votes.

A close relative told me the other day that she was ‘so sick of this same sex thing’ that she voted ‘No’ – just to ‘get rid of it’. She also filled in ‘No’ for her middle-aged son who was just too lazy to fill in his own form.

So…there’s another two ‘No’ votes.

Jeepers, did anyone vote ‘Yes’?

My 19 year-old grandson was one of the very few who asked me how I voted. At my answer of ‘Yes’, he had no comment at all. I didn’t ask him what box he ticked but I guessed it was the ‘Yes’ one.

So, that’s one vote for ‘Yes’ (mine) and possibly another from the grandson.

So… what will it be? A few weeks ago, I thought that the ‘Yes’ vote would romp in with a huge swell. Now I am not so sure.

But the time has come. Tomorrow the result of Australia’s public vote on Same Sex Marriage will be announced.
And then the ‘fun’ will start!
Give me strength!

*Do unto others as you would have them do unto you definition: A command based on words of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount : “All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.” The Mosaic law contains a parallel commandment: “Whatever is hurtful to you, do not do to any other person.”