New Year's Day

My uncle, Archie Mauchline, died last night at the age of 90 years.  He has been in a nursing home for about 10 years and so was looked after well in his later years.  I'm his executor and now have to look forward to the chores which follow a death.

Archie was the epitome of a likeable rogue.  He had a difficult childhood and left home early to go to sea.  He was in merchant ships during World War 2, mostly on the run between Glasgow and Novia Scotia, but also had a couple of runs to Archangel.  He rarely talked about the war, but it must have been a terrible time.

He had little education but still managed to make a bit of money.  His wife, my Aunt Mabel, was a very careful manager but, after she died, the shackles were released and Archie started to spend his wealth. He was an easy target for a certain kind of female and we know of at least five who were enthusiastic about helping him enjoy life.  After a series of mini-strokes a few years ago, he had to resign himself to a well-behaved retirement but I'm sure he hankered for the days when he carried hundred-dollar bills in his shirt pocket and could book an overseas trip on a whim. 

His sister Peggy and his two nephews who live in Scotland are his only close surviving relatives.

December 26, 2014

It was a very good Christmas, over all.  Without little children in the house, we were able to sleep until a reasonable hour, except Nera who had to work and had a 7 o'clock start.  Madi and Josh came for lunch, which was great.  Nera brought some huge prawns which she had cooked in lemonade (!), and we followed with lamb and ham, glazed with maple syrup.  We found a Jamie Oliver recipe for Glazed carrots which turned out to be the highlight of the meal.

Today, of course, it's back to the real world.

Christmas Eve, 2014

How did I ever get myself talked into adopting two goats.  It's a nightmare. They're so demanding, screaming for food, or to be untangled, or just for attention every minute of their waking hours.  Billy is the noisy one: sounding sometimes like a horse and sometimes like a rooster.  It's blood-curdling and, until I became used to it, I used to run to see whether he was having his throat cut.  Ted is the quieter one but makes the most extraordinary sounds.  You'd swear he was saying No or Ni.

When we collected them, we were given their 'house' as well, an A-frame of colorbond sheeting on a wooden frame and open at both ends.  Their habit was to go in the front way, and out the back, getting tangled on the way.  I decided it would be  a good idea to close off the back so I found an off-cut of corrugated Perspex and some large rocks to make a wall.  Billy was the first to object.  He stood in the shelter bellowing his indignation.  Ted then arrived and started butting the half-finished wall and trying to climb over it.  

I persevered but within an hour it was demolished and Ted was stomping up and down on the ruins.  Unbelievable!

The next project is to build an enclosure for them.  We have a 'hill' on the property which they love:  a pile of earth and rocks with a couple of small trees and blackberries.  The plan is to build a fence around it so they can be locked up at night, off their chains.  So, $190 worth of dog wire, 15 star pickets and hours of labour, the day before Christmas.  We must be mad.

Sunday, December 21, 2014

I usually try to keep my natural cynicism under control but, occasionally, some issues can't be overlooked.  I've dealt pretty well with the over-the-top breast-beating following the Sydney siege but, when I heard a Salvation Army officer suggesting that Sydney was undergoing a 'journey of grief', I'd had enough. The man is a saint; he was in Martin Place every day offering support but he did himself no favours using phrases like that and, to cap it all, he also spouted the tired old cliche: we may not see eye to eye, but we can still stand shoulder to shoulder.

Even the ABC let me down this weekend.  I turned it on yesterday to be greeted by a cheery voice saying, 'Welcome to the Happiness Show, thank you for joining me in the Serenity Lounge.   Really, have we been reduced to this?

Friday, December 19, 2014

We've just come back from the TGIF Christmas Party at the Windermere Cafe, just down the road.  They serve good wine and food and it's always great to catch up with some of the locals.  Of course, we haven't been for over a year and most of the faces were unknown to us.  That's life.

I was reminded of a little bit of Australian culture which I don't particularly like.  When other people are enjoying some wine in a nice glass, there will be some who prefer a beer, but instead of using a glass in a civilized way, they suck the beverage from the bottle, like over-grown babies who can't give up their reassuring bottle of warm milk.  It's OK, I suppose, to drink from the bottle at a barbecue when everyone is standing around, but not at a polite Christmas 'do' when we're sitting around a table.

We're enjoying having Bil and Ted in the family.  They bleat when we come home and wag their tails like dogs when we go near them.  Poor old Ted is on a chain all the time and is forever in a muddle.  I can see my new job will be to sort out Ted's tangled chain.

Wednesday, 17 December, 2014

Bill and Ted have arrived and got straight into their job of clearing the place of blackberries and other weeds.  Ted needs to be kept on a chain but Bill won't move too far from his mate.  They're very excited to find that we have hills and piles of rocks on the property and they spend all their time clambering around on the mounds left behind from various excavations.

I was interested to find that goats are browsing animals rather than grazers and prefer to eat from bushes and trees.  That's OK, we can provide for the needs of any kind of herbivore.

Monday, December 15, 2014

This is Trevor, our new Lawn Tractor.  Jamie decided it was time we became serious about new technology and 2 acres needed more than just the little Makita.  This beast cuts 42" wide and chews through the thickest grass.  When it hits a bump in the road, the cutting blade rises up to prevent damage.  It will dramatically reduce the time I spend behind a mower and give me more time to do whatever retired people do when they're not mowing.

Trevor arrived this afternoon and we've had great fun running it up and down, learning the proper techniques.  It certainly cuts well but raises an awful lot of dust.

Sunday, December 14, 2014

A very hot day in Northern Tasmania today.  We did a little bit of work in the garden this morning but, happily we had a 3 year-old's birthday party to go to at lunchtime so that filled in the hottest part of the day.

Kids' birthday parties aren't what they used to be.  This one was at a local hall.  The room was sub-divided into a play area with tents and tunnels, an Art & Craft area, a Popcorn Station and so on.  But they did have Pin the tail on the Donkey so all is not lost.

We did manage a couple of hours in the garden this evening and the place is certainly looking better already.  It's been neglected over the past year but it's not such a big deal,to knock it back into shape. We have a couple of helpers joining us on Tuesday. Their names are Bill and Ted and, apparently they are champion lawn mowers.  Can't wait to meet them.

December 13, 2014

Knowing that  I would have lots of grass to cut, I had dropped my mower in for service before me went on the cruise.  They had to wait for some parts but I managed to collect it without too much hassle.  Mr Hodge did his thing with the tractor and slasher and Jamie and I started the long process of mowing and whipper-snipping to make the place look a little more respectable.  It's great that I have Jamie to help, even though he can't use his right arm at all.  One arm is enough to push a mower but, sadly, you need a right hand to use a whipper-sniper.

Nera is keen to be involved and she's the fittest and strongest of us all, but she has her work to go to so we don't let her do too much.

We noticed a problem with the mower; it was vibrating too much and the blades seemed to be loose.  Back to the repair-shop to be told that we had the wrong blades fitted - we had ones designed for a Victa and our mower is a Makita.  I'm disappointed with Bunnings who sold me the blades, assuring me that they're all the same.  I've been a great fan of a Bunnings but this has dampened my admiration.  I suppose it's the problem of lacking any mechanical aptitude, I just don't understand these things.  I remember at school when we took Aptitude Tests at the end of High School.  Apparently, I scored miserably on that section and was told I was only fit to be an Accountant.  Oh, well!  Of course, if I'd stayed in that profession I might be very wealthy today.  Or in prison.  Or dead.

December 11, 2014 (4)

While we were on the ship we wandered along to one of the Art auctions.  It's really an excuse to get a glass or two of (cheap) champagne but there's always something to be learned.  For example, I didn't realise that some of the best-known art movements of the 20th century, like Cubism and Surrealism only lasted for a few years.  Of course, the art experts also have a bit to learn too.  Our fellow told us that the earliest art can be found in caves in France and Spain and is about 20 000 years old.  Someone should tell him about the Quinkan rock art of Queensland which could be as old as 30 000 years.

On this cruise, they were pushing the art of Peter Max, a hippy artist of the 1960's and one passenger had been identified as a buyer.  I would have called him a 'cashed-up bogan' but I'm a bit cynical.  Anyway, at the first auction, they contrived to give him a free painting, softening him up for the big sell.  At the final auction of the cruise, he bought a Little Peter Max for $3700 and a wall of 6 paintings for $6700.  It was a bit of a mish-mash but he and his wife were happy.

Marilyn and I bid for two paintings in a Silent Auction, not expecting to get either.  In fact, we got both.  They were all packed up and delivered to our cabin on the night before we disembarked.  I quickly got onto Jetstar, bought another 10 kg of baggage allowance and they were transported to Launceston with little fuss.

We certainly don't need any more paintings but they are by a favourite artist, Linda la Kinff, and look great in our bedroom.  The image is one of her paintings we bought years ago.

December 11, 2014 (3)

I'm having technology problems at the moment. When I switched my phone back on when we arrived in a Melbourne after the cruise, it wouldn't connect to Telstra.  No amount of re-setting or pushing of buttons made any difference. I've had the 'phone for nearly 5 years so maybe it's time for a change.  More of that later.

Also, my e-reader has given up the ghost.  I purchased it on October 21st last year and it died on November 21st, just one month out of warranty.  I'm not impressed because it wasn't a cheapie but, luckily, I have a backup Kobo which I bought earlier this year when I forgot to pack the original one before a cruise.

The phone is a more interesting proposition.  I'm now conditioned to use a smartphone but a new iphone is hugely expensive.  I don't want another contract so I've had to fall back on a Nokia Lumia.  It's a nice phone and works on the Windows system.  The mad thing is that comes complete with a group of imaginary friends all listed in the contacts menu and all with a realistic profile.  The eerie thing is that they send me messages reminding me about meetings and I keep being notified that I had a missed call from Zak or Chelsea. I can't seem to get rid of them.  Marilyn's starting to ask who is this Chelsea who keeps trying to contact me.  It's clearly designed for those poor souls who have no social life but I haven't got to that stage yet.

On my Kobo, I'm reading Sapiens by Yuval Noah Harari a fantastic explanation of the evolution of man.

December 11, 2014 (2)

On the Saturday morning, after a good breakfast, we wandered down to Southern Cross Station.  Marilyn parked me at a cafe while she browsed through the DFO and we headed for Collins Street to get the tram to Port Melbourne where we were expecting to join the ship at about 1o'clock.  We love the public transport in Melbourne.  Cheap as chips and so reliable.

Except this morning.  Apparently Santa is arriving and trams have been diverted to Spencer Street.  While we're waiting, we get chatting to a couple, Jim and Julia, who are on the same cruise.  They only have a little back-pack each, while we have our stuffed suitcases.  We think we're doing well to limit ourselves to a medium suitcase each but this pair are carrying everything on their backs. 

'Where is your formal gear?' asks Marilyn, getting to the nub of the situation.  'Oh, it's all in there,' says Julia. Jumping ahead, we saw them a few times during the cruise and they seemed to be wearing the same clothes all the time.  The other odd thing is that they charge nothing to their on-board account - no drinks, coffee, excursions, etc.  On one cruise, the Purser's office rang to see if they were still alive and to ask whether they intended to use the account.  The answer was No, so they're quite unpopular with Princess who are losing money each time they sail.

On board, we found our cabin.  Great big bed and plenty of cupboard space.  Perfect for 13 days on the ocean.

The cruise was one of the best we've done.  The weather wasn't kind and we missed out on Wellington and Milford Sound but the entertainment staff were terrific and we enjoyed every day.  We formed a quiz team with two couples from the Mornington Peninsula and had some success.  Quizzing was fierce on board and the room was usually full of determined professionals itching to win.

On the mornings in port, numbers were less and Marilyn and I formed a team on our own.  We won three times which I think is pretty good.  One morning, we were just starting when a fellow wandered into the room.  'Is this where the quiz is being held?' he bellowed and sat down right at the front.  After the first couple of question, he shouted, 'Do you have to write the answers down?'

Taking pity, Marilyn invited him to join us.  Keith was his name and he struggled with most of the questions.  However, we won, and he was delighted and hurried off to tell his wife.  'Hang on,' said Marilyn, 'Don't forget your prize.'  He couldn't believe it but we never saw him again.

December 11, 2014

It's over 100 days since I posted my last comment.  Looking back, I note it was a little whinge and I'm not happy going out on a negative note.  Also, I'm within striking distance of 500 posts and, like a cricketer, I'm motivated by the chance to reach a significant score before hanging up my bat.

The real reason I'm taking up my pen, though, is that I'm vain enough to think that my meanderings are of interest to people and, if I can bring a little light into someone's dull life, I'm prepared to accept the challenge. (This is tongue-in-cheek)

Let's start with November 14th.  Marilyn and I flew to Melbourne, ready to join the Dawn Princess for a cruise to New Zealand the following day. We booked in to the Hotel Sophia which is near Southern Cross Station and were pleasantly surprised with the very nice room we received.  Better still, there is a little pub attached to the hotel where we could get Parmy and Chips for $10, with a free beer.  Breakfast the next morning was, again, $10, with eggs, bacon, sausages, and so on.  A great deal!  

The breakfast room was serviced by a little, bent, Greek crone, dressed all in black and silent.  I realise I have bent the PC rules of ageism, sexism and racism in that one description but it can't be helped.

In the evening, we went to see Once.  We jumped on the tram in Bourke Street, had a glass of wine at the Princess Theatre before taking our seats.  When we came into the theatre, the stage was covered with members of the audience enjoying some impromptu jamming by a group of musicians. At 8 o'clock, by some secret signal, the audience returned to their seats and we realised the musicians were the cast of the show.

The show is fantastic and the music is terrific.  It is based on a film, which we've downloaded to watch later.

At the end of the show, it's back on the tram and back to the hotel for a good night's sleep

Thursday, August 28th ....

I don't often get comments on what I've written and I suppose it's enough for me to imagine the readers gnashing their teeth in frustration at wasting their time once again on perusing my nonsense.  I certainly don't want comments like the one that came through on Tuesday.

Where did that come from?  All I can hope is that he or she keeps taking the medication until he or she feels better.

Thursday, August 28th ....

I had an early start with the Community Car this morning and listening to the radio in those early hours often throws up little gems which you don't hear about otherwise.  This morning I caught part of an interview with a fellow called Jim Fitzpatrick who has written a history of the bicycle in Australia. After listening to some of his tales, I might be tempted to read the book although I don't list cycling as one of the passions of my life.

The cycling craze caught on in Australia in the 1890’s.  We know that must be right because Banjo Paterson wrote Mulga Bill's Bicycle in 1896. 

    'Twas Mulga Bill from Eaglehawk who caught the cycling craze.

I didn't know that bicycles were used in the Boer War (great for running down the Boer sharpshooters on the veldt) or that both Australia and New Zealand had Bicycle battalions in World War 1.  There is the famous story of how the Japanese invaded Singapore on bicycles in World War 2 and the legend that the noise of the thousands of bicycles crossing the causeway sounded like tanks so the Allied generals rushed to surrender.

There'a also the story of the family of shearers who used to get the ferry across from Tasmania each year and cycle up to Queensland for the shearing season

There's certainly a resurgence of bike riding in Australia and I'm astounded at the number of members of our Rotary club who ride regularly.  One group of 6 men and their wives recently had a trip to Europe.  They hired a canal boat, with a captain, and sailed from one town to next.  Each morning, they unloaded their bicycles and travelled around seeing the sights.  They said it was the best holiday they ever had, and it would never have occurred to me to attempt such a thing.

Tuesday, August 26th ....

A lovely comment in today's Australian:  

So sad to hear of the death of Richard Attenborough.  I grew up with his nature documentaries.  My favourite was Jurassic Park.

Monday, August 25th ....

I sat down today to watch the first episode of Dr Who.  The new doctor is Peter Capaldi, a Scottish actor we first saw in Local Hero which came out in 1983.  There's been a lot of water under the bridge since then but he still thinks that being Dr Who is the highlight of his career.  

The episode was pretty good and ended up with the Tardis parked in a mall somewhere.  'Where are we?' says the Doctor. 'I think it's Glasgow.' says his companion. 'That would be appropriate, as you're Scottish.'

And it was.  In fact, it was in the Buchanan Street Mall in Glasgow.  I was there in April last year and took a photograph of the Tardis which was just sitting there.  I'm sure they weren't making the episode then but maybe it's a permanent fixture.  Here's my photograph.

Sunday, August 24th ....

I don't have as much to say as I thought.

Saturday, August 23rd ....

Madeleine has come to stay for the weekend, and she and Nera are involved in cooking.  We've already enjoyed some savoury muffins but I've been promised some sweet cupcakes as well.

However, Marilyn has offered to give both girls some driving practice, so everything has been put on hold until they're bored with that.  I'm delighted that Marilyn has taken on that project because I'm not sure that I would have he patience any more.

Instead, I've been working on the family tree; it's got a bit away from me and I'm having to refresh my memory about the connections.  I'm looking at thirteen generations in just one line so there are hundreds of people and dozens of surnames to put into some sort of order.  I think I'll make some time to do some more tomorrow.

Following up on my previous comments on Nova Scotia lobsters, I was interested to read that the largest lobster ever caught off Nova Scotia was between 90cm and 1.2m long and weighed over 20kg. It was probably over 100 years old.

Thursday, August 21st ....

I've had a fugitive memory lurking in the back of my brain. Somehow, I remember a floral clock in the park near where we lived in Scotland. I haven’t been able to find any record of it on the Internet and, even when I visited Blantyre last year, there was no mention of it in any of the documents I turned up at the library.

Yet, lo and behold, I found a new website today, called The Blantyre Project, and there is the clock, as I remember it. I’ll need to spend a little more time on the website because it appears to have lots of interesting stuff.

I’m writing this post in a new app called Matcha. It claims to have all the bells and whistles but I can’t say I’m noting any difference to Blogger, although it does have auto-correction and that can be a bonus.

Tuesday, August 19th ....

It was our regular Probus meeting this morning; a good roll-up and interesting guest speakers.  Michael Bennett is a local farmer and his wife, Maureen, is an historian, very knowledgeable about families of the area.

Many years ago, Michael and his brother, John, established Ashgrove Cheese and that's a real success story.  As part of the set-up phase, Michael was awarded a Nuffield Scholarship to travel to Europe to look at cheese-making.  Apparently, Nuffield scholars keep in touch and have regular reunions, and this year they gathered on Nova Scotia.  He and Maureen were invited to talk about the trip.

Having two guest speakers is a bit like a tennis match: one speaks and then the other.  If they are polite, it can be quite worthwhile.  If they both have something to say, it can be more like a rugby match as they tussle for the microphone.  It wasn't quite as bad as that although there were a few tense moments.

They certainly had a lot to talk about.  It seems to be an extraordinary place.  One of the big industries is lobster fishing with dozens of boats making a living from this resource.  It's well-regulated but there seems to be no shortage and, while our crayfish can fetch $150 per kilo, the Nova Scotian are lucky to get $15 or $16.  The story is that the lobsters were kept in check by the cod but now that cod have been fished out, there are no predators. So the fishermen are making hay while the sun shines if you'll excuse a mixed metaphor.

We also saw a farmer collecting maple syrup - very primitive methods but that's just how they do it.

Nova Scotia is certainly a place to visit.  More Scottish than Scotland and some of the road signs are in Gaelic.  Unbelievable! 

Sunday, August 17th ....

I made a throw-away comment the other day about how interesting it might be for our politicians to look to Europe for inspiration, rather than the US.  It occurred to me that we rarely hear about Europe except in derogatory terms: welfare society, the old man of the world, and so on, so I got on-line and downloaded a book, Europe's Promise by Steven Hill, subtitled Why the European Way is the Best Hope in an Insecure Age.  Mr Hill is an American writer, and advocate for electoral reform in the US.

He has written a very clear and compelling account of the development of Europe following the wholesale destruction of World War 2.  European leaders at the end of the war realised that Europe needed to be re-invented, following centuries of warfare.  All the old institutions had been destroyed, leaving a clean slate on which to draw up a new vision.

It's important to realise that these were Conservative leaders like Winston Churchill, Konrad Adenauer, and Jean Monnet.  It wasn't a socialist revolution although many Americans sneer at what they have tagged 'creeping socialism'.

Churchill and the others were not interested in soviet-style communism but they were also determined not to adopt the Wall Street capitalism of USA.  They were prescient enough to realise the problems that were developing under that model.  Instead, they planned a new beast: social capitalism, where the undoubted benefits of the capitalist model provided the energy and resources for the development of a fairer society with benefits across the spectrum.  His book is 519 pages and, while it doesn't avoid talking about the inevitable problems, it demonstrates the extraordinary success in the 27 countries of the European Union and countries like Switzerland and Norway which haven't chosen to join yet.

Some of the elements which underpin the successes are:  birth to grave support from government to supplement the relatively high wages; fewer working hours and more holidays to achieve a better work/life balance; development of advanced technologies; investment in alternative energies, superior public transport; free education at all levels, a fair sharing of the nation's resources. Sure, their taxes are a little higher but the benefits are obvious.  From time to time, the ups and downs of the economy put pressure on the largesse but the benefits to the people are a much higher priority than military spending, for example and, if cuts need to be made, they are made in lower priority areas.

As I read the book, I couldn't help but be impressed by the different attitudes between Australia and Europe.  European economies work for the benefit of society; Australia seems to expect our society to work for the benefit of the economy.

I've avoided talking about the US in this post but, clearly, that is a failed society and we should be avoiding adopting any ideas in Australia which are based on that corrupt model.

Saturday, August 16th....

Here are four odes to staying young and beautiful, three romantic and one realistic. I wonder which one will stick in your mind and drive you mad over the next few days.

1. Nat King Cole

Stay as sweet as you are,

Don't let a thing ever change you.

Stay as sweet as you are,

Don't let a soul rearrange you.

Don't ever lose

All the charm you possess,

Your loveliness, darling,

The way you say "yes".

2. Billy Joel

Don't go changing, to try and please me

You never let me down before

Don't imagine you're too familiar

And I don't see you anymore

I would not leave you in times of trouble

We never could have come this far

I took the good times, I'll take the bad times

I'll take you just the way you are.

3. Bruno Mars

Ohhhhh ohhhhhh ohhhhhh ohhhhhhh

Oh, her eyes, her eyes

Make the stars look like they're not shinin'

Her hair, her hair

Falls perfectly without her trying

She's so beautiful

And I tell her everyday

Yeah

I know, I know

When I compliment her she won't believe me

And it's so, it's so

Sad to think that she don't see what I see

But every time she asks me, "Do I look okay?"

I say,

When I see your face (face, face...)

There's not a thing that I would change

'Cause you're amazing (amazing)

Just the way you are (are)

And when you smile (smile, smile...)

The whole world stops and stares for a while

'Cause, girl, you're amazing (amazing)

Just the way you are (are).

4. Shel Silverstein

If you’re sloppy, that’s just fine.
If you’re moody, I won’t mind.
If you’re fat, that’s fine with me.
If you’re skinny, let it be.
If you’re bossy, that’s all all right.
If you’re nasty, I won’t fight
If you're rough,  well that’s just you.
If you're mean, that’s all right too.
Whatever you are is all okay.
I don’t like you anyway.

Friday, August 15th ....

Jamie went in for his wrist operation this morning.  It's now 5.30 and there is no news yet.  Marilyn and Nera are still at the hospital and, no doubt I'll hear when he gets back to the ward.  It's been 6 months since he had the accident so it's about time it was repaired.

I'm watching The Drum which is always interesting. What impresses me is that the producers try to get a balance of panelists so there is usually a reasonable discussion of all sides.  Paul Sheehan from the Sydney Morning Herald is on tonight and he is always good value.  He has a knack for looking at the big picture and doesn't get distracted by the day-to-day spot fires which take up so much media attention.  

His advice to the Prime Minister is that he has lost the Battle of the Budget and, if he wants to win back the votes he has squandered, he needs to draft a new budget. 

At the moment, the Abbot Government is being held to ransom by the likes of Clive Palmer.  There's no future in feeding that ego.  The first priority should be to make Clive and Jacqui et al irrelevant.  If they don't, we're going nowhere.  

The book I'm reading at the moment has a reference to a street artist called Banksy who has gained notoriety for his quirky street art around London. There's a lot to be found on the internet and I've copied a couple here, and more on my Pinterest page.

Friday, August 15th ...

I found myself as a volunteer bus driver this afternoon taking a group into the Aquatic Centre in Launceston for a hydro-therapy session.  The bus and the therapist are provided and the participants pay $7 for entry to the pool. There's enough in the kitty to buy the driver a coffee.

The cafe at the pool is pretty good and one of their specialities is a blackberry and custard muffin.  I think I'll volunteer next week as well.

While I was there, I glanced through the local paper, which I've stopped buying. It's mostly rubbish but there was one interesting comment article about a move in Germany to provide free holidays each year for disadvantaged families.  What's interesting is that similar schemes are being discussed in other European countries as well and the UK has already put a scheme in place where families who are struggling can apply for a couple of weeks at a holiday camp, free of charge.

It's based on the premise that a holiday is as much a human right as the right to work.  The fact that many families can't afford one is mostly not their own fault.  Not everyone has a high-paying job and, when things are tight, holidays are the first thing to go.  The social benefits of a break are well noted, especially for children. 

Germany is looking at a voucher scheme which could provide travel and/or accommodation and food. Around $700 would be the maximum money available and all that would be spent within Germany, stimulating the local tourism market.  I think it has a lot to recommend it.

I wonder what our Treasurer would make of it?  'Poor people don't usually take holidays and, if they do, they are not as long as people with more money.  I've got ABS figures to prove it.'

It surprises me that, too often, Australia looks to the US for inspiration, when countries in Northern Europe are showing much more imagination.  I don't mean the rust-belt countries like Spain, Italy or Greece, or the UK which is still trying to get over Thatcherism.  I'm talking about the Scandinavian countries, the Baltic States, Germany and Switzerland, all of which could teach us a lot.

Wednesday, August 13th ....

Jack Lang, the controversial Premier of NSW in the 1930s, apparently advised Paul Keating: always bet on the horse called Self Interest; at least you can be sure it's trying.  When you look at the current crop of politicians you can see the truth of that statement. Obeid, Sinodinos, and the sad gang of NSW  members who have been found bending the rules, certainly put their own self-interest before the welfare of their constituents.  How can Kevin Rudd justify spending over $500000 in overseas travel in less than three months and how can our current Prime Minister hold his head up in regard to his numerous claims for attending Ironman events?  And how can his office administration expenses add up to over $200000 pa?

Poor old Peter Slipper gets his career and life ruined over rorted  taxi rides around wineries while Barnaby Joyce and George Brandis are allowed to pay back expenses claimed for attending a mate's wedding.  You could write a book!

So, when I read this week that Saul Eslake was encouraging the government to look at negative gearing as a potential area for tax reform, I wondered how we could overcome the self interest issue.  Australia is one of only a few developed nations which allow negative gearing, which Saul Eslake says is a waste of money.  Investors claimed $13.2 billion in losses in 2010-11, and that amount is rising.  Apart from the enormous amount of lost tax revenue, there is evidence that negative gearing reduces housing affordability.  Cashed-up investors compete with first-home buyers for available homes and prices rise accordingly.

Stopping investors from negatively-gearing property losses against their income would add $4 billion dollars a year to the budget in the short term, and about $2 billion dollars a year in the long term. 

It's a no-brainer, right?

Sadly, members of parliament are among the most enthusiastic investment property buyers in Australia.  Barry O'Sullivan, a Nationals senator, owns 80 rented properties, Clive Palmer has 12.  On average, each MP owns 2.5 properties, or a total of 563 across the board.

So, will Barry or Clive, or any of the other 94% of current politicians who own investment properties vote to take away their entitlements?  Pigs might fly!

Monday, August 11th ....

I came across a reference to Bertrand Russell in something I was reading this week.  What an extraordinary man!  He spent years of his life coming up with a definition of the number 1 and proving that 1+1=2.  He went to gaol for his pacifist beliefs during World War 1 when even the Bishop of London was preaching, 'Kill Germans!  Kill the good as well as the bad.'  He was intolerant of people who blindly accepted what they were told, especially by clergymen and politicians, and commented that it was worthwhile occasionally putting a question mark after things that you believed in most fervently.

His quotes are all over the Internet but one I liked especially is:

The problem with the world is that the ignorant are cocksure and the intelligent are full of doubt.

Jamie's major assignment for his IT course is to design a complex computer network.  For practice, he has networked our house using an operating system called Ubuntu.  I was amazed to discover that our household has 17 devices:  mobile phones, tablets, desktops, laptops, net books, etc.  It's extraordinary that 4 adults need so many gadgets just to get by.

I came across a website called Illustrated Lyrics.  The name is self-explanatory and here is a sample of their work.  If you don't see the whole poster, try clicking on it.

Sunday, August 10th ....

I've been reading The Hundred-year Old Man Who Climbed Out of the Window and Disappeared, on the recommendation of our friend, Jim, from Kangaroo Valley.  Jim's generally pretty reliable in his recommendations but I'm not sure about this one.

On the surface, it's rubbish - poorly written and with a very far-fetched story-line but, there are elements to like.  The author tries too hard to be funny but his trick of putting Allan at the centre of last century's history is pretty interesting. If you can suspend disbelief long enough to accept that Allan knew General Franco, Stalin and Herbert Einstein (Alfred's supposed half-brother) it's worth persevering.

I had another load of wood delivered yesterday and left it there hoping that it would stack itself overnight, but with no success.  It's sitting half-in and half-out of the garage at the moment and I'll stack it as the mood strikes me.  On the other hand, a load normally lasts about six weeks and I can probably live with it lying on the floor for that time if I have to.

When I re-started this blog, I hoped to avoid too much political comment but the stupidity of the last couple of weeks is too much to resist.  Eric Abetz scores two strikes for his ludicrous 'policy' of expecting people on Newstart to apply for 40 jobs a month, and his unbelievable gaffe of linking abortion and breast cancer.  George Brandis wants to keep the metadata of messages on the Internet, and he doesn't even know what it is!  And he neglected to ask the only man in cabinet who might have some idea before he went on air to display his ignorance.

And my personal favourite:  Christopher Pyne stating that women won't be affected by the increase in HECS because they won't be able to earn the high salaries like Dentists or Lawyers, for example.  If he were on top of his portfolio, or had bothered to check his facts, he would know that 58% of Dentistry graduates are women, and 61% of Law graduates.  Or does he believe that women should still be paid less than men? 

It's getting harder every day to keep up the pretence that the adults are in charge.

Monday, August 4th ....

I went to bed last night with the hope that the watches I had rashly bid on yesterday would be snapped up by nerds in another time zone.  Happily, this was the case so I don't have the embarrassment of having to justify owning a number of cheap watches.  Still, I have enjoyed the exercise and when a nice little black-faced watch looked set to be sold for a bid of 99c, I couldn't resist chipping in another 5c and was delighted to take ownership for a total of $1.04 (plus postage).

It seemed that, if I was going in to the business of watch ownership, I should look at owning some of the tools for opening the back to replace the battery, remove links from the chain and so on.  A 16-piece kit is available for a reasonable price, complete with detailed instructions.

I found the instructions so entertaining, I have copied them here:

Demolition of a friend has a set of tools to watch, you can watch easily removed the bottom cover together, but also watch strap length adjustment, forceps can watch the demolition of small parts, you can also watch the pointer is a distortion of twisted (but to highly skilled) . another hammer with plastic, you can watch on hammering. enjoy the fun of watch
  
 These include:
* Feet to open the table key (use: Open the bottom cover and tighten the screws bud directly aligned with the tool in front of the bottom cover the gap of two feet turn right direction switch. You can easily open the watch case back.)

* Open base knife (use: press the bottom of the watch for the bottom cover must be one of the tools used, pry the end of knife.)

* Split strap device (use: If your watch is new, then removed when the strap is the most convenient to use.)

* Ear Health grant (use: dedicated to dismantling strap watch cases and students between the ears, or belt of Health ears the most methods.)

* Red Clamp (use: assembly and disassembly is inevitable to use the pliers watches, such as the demolition of strap in the starting folder to folder, pins, etc..)

* Folding plastic seat strap (use: demolition watch chain, will watch chain sandwiched plastic seat racks. Very easy to load or open the strap.)

* Screwdriver (use: for internal assembly and disassembly machines use.)

* Rubber hammer (use: split strap installed after the hairpin, etc., when used for tapping.)

* King fell (use: If your watch band is too tight or too just bought a strip, you must bring it fell smaller.)

* Sharp tweezers (Use: Some folders and other small accessories and spare parts, etc.)

I particularly appreciate the Ear Health grant and can't wait to use it.

Sunday, August 3rd ....

I wrote a blog during the week but, somehow, I managed to lose it before it was saved.  Probably a good thing; it was just some nonsensical ramblings about an old Scottish song and the problems  in Gaza.  I'm sure my comments on the Israeli/Palestinian situation are not going to change anything.

Today, I had a bit of luck.  I was browsing eBay and noted a couple of interesting auctions, so I made a couple of bids.  With only 34min to go, I bid $1.04 for an ebook reader.  Unfortunately, there was a knock at the door and I missed the chance to raise the bid and somebody else won it for $1.29!  

However, I also made a bid on a watch.  There was 1 hour 40 minutes to go and my bid was $7.50.  I sweated on it and couldn't believe my luck when mine was the winning bid.  It came with free postage, too.  

In the excitement of the bidding, I also bid on 2 other watches:  a transparent, skeleton steampunk style ($10.13) and a sports LCD ($12.00).   Both auctions finish tomorrow so I'm not too concerned.  I don't really want any more watches;  I can only look at one at a time.

One of the drawbacks of watching the Commonwealth Games is the constant stream of ads.  Channel 10 in Tassie seems to have only local ads and the average production cost is about $100, so they're pretty ordinary.  Animal Tuckerbox is having an advertising blitz at the moment and their ad features a funny voice.  This is a standard Tasmanian strategy, to have a funny, irritating voice-over to catch the attention.  It makes me want to scream.

As I get older, I think I am moving further away from the average Australian.  I can't stand bogan ads, I despair of the values being demonstrated by our politicians and, when the delightful Jacqui Lambie spouts her own brand of wisdom, I want to cringe.  To cap it all, I was astounded when a commentator  on The Drum last week said that Jacqui spoke fluent middle-Australian and her comments on radio about her taste in men had cemented her chances of re-election.

Stop the world, I want to get off!  

Saturday, July 26th ....

I woke up this morning full of plans for a busy day but I've lost interest and am watching replays of the Commonwealth Games instead.  I think I enjoy these games more than the Olympics; somehow these seem a little more old-fashioned and amateurish, although my head tells me the athletes are just as professional and self-serving as those in the Olympics.  I like the idea that these are the 'Friendly Games.'  I was keen on Athletics at school and, like many dreamers, I wondered whether hard training would get me a place on the Australian team.  Even then I was sensible enough to realise that my future lay elsewhere.

It's great to watch the athletes but, sometimes, the backstory is just as interesting.  The organisers of the Glasgow games decided there would be an element of design in the decisions made.  My involvement in the Craft Fair has shown me how important  'design' is in achieving good results.  So, the medals were designed by a team from Glasgow School of Arts.  Each is individually produced using a combination of 3D printing (!) and hand finishing.  The medal-winners' podiums are designed and constructed from fallen trees collected from around Glasgow.  I was astounded to read that there are 96 podiums needed for the Games.

The designer of the podiums also made 2-handled drinking vessels, called quaichs, which are given to each medal-winner.  Better than a bunch of flowers!  The dresses worn by the girls at the medal ceremonies are made of silk, printed with a specially-designed Glasgow 2014 tartan, designed by a 15-year old, Aamir Mehmood.  Don't you just love the traditional Scottish names.

The baton, which was carried across all Commonwealth countries carrying the Queen's message, was also a beautiful design, although it posed a bit of a problem when Prince Imran couldn't get it open to read the message.  The Queen probably knew what she had written anyway.

Thursday, July 24th ....

The Malaysian Airlines crash is an appalling human tragedy but I'm afraid I'm uncomfortable with the  circus that's forming around the whole episode.  It seems that the grief of those who have lost family members or friends has to be pushed into the background while the general public, egged on by the media, tears its hair and wails.  It reminds me of the scenes when Kim Jong-il died, and his loyal subjects screamed their anguish under the cameras of their political masters.

I think the trend began when Princess Di was killed and the British public went mad.  It was mass behaviour so unforeseen that it raised eyebrows and led to an investigation.  Why did a stoic nation like Britain produce such an outpouring of grief?  The report came to the conclusion that, with the breakdown of society, churches and the like, "Britain has become a nation of isolated individuals looking to unite over a national tragedy or movement.  What really drives the behaviour is the need to be seen to care. And they want to be seen displaying compassion because they want to be loved themselves."

Clearly, Australia is no different.  And don't the politicians make a meal of it!  Special envoys flying here and there, ceremonies to welcome the remains to an airfield somewhere, Operation Bring Them Home, and so on.

There's a serious lack of quiet dignity in all of this and a lack of understanding of the need for the real mourners to come to terms with their loss without being elbowed aside by those who are trying to manipulate the whole tragedy for their own benefit.

Thursday, July 24th ....

The weather in Deloraine is cool today.  Marilyn is driving the Community Car and Jamie is at TAFE, Nera is not feeling particularly well and has taken to her bed, so the cat and I have the fire to ourselves.

Marilyn and I were at a function last night.  The Inner Wheel club was having its annual changeover and  celebrated with a meal at the British Hotel here in town.  Marilyn has been coerced into joining the club and will be inducted at their next meeting.  The meal was quite good and the company was chatty but the highlight of the evening was the entertainment.

Three middle-aged women, all smiles and energy introduced themselves as Trifle. The spokesperson, English, had written a poem to explain what they are about.  They don't really sing, and they don't really dance but they thought they would take a chance ... , and so on.  They believe their entertainment has many layers, like a trifle.

It was like watching a train wreck: you know it's awful but you can't take your eyes off it.  Their whole act was on an iphone attached to a stereo.  Old-time songs played while they changed costumes and we were expected to sing along.  Can you believe "I've got Sixpence' and 'Roll Out the Barrell'?  Their first skit had them dressed as babies, in nappies.  What is it about some people that lets them think that it's OK to lose your dignity like that?  Maybe it's OK for the Footy Show but not for a nice middle-class crowd like the Inner Wheel.  Anyway, when they scurried behind the bar to change, we listened to the Olde English Music Hall songs and waited to see what else would be inflicted upon us.

One of them appeared dressed like a girl from the 50's and mimed a rock 'n' roll song.  All the songs were mimed.  The problem was, we were so close, there was no magic.  We saw every wrinkle and every stumble.  The choice of songs was interesting:  a strong English influence, like Tommy Steel's Wot a Mouf, and Shirley Bassey. Their piece de resistance was 'Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better'.

I carelessly caught the 'singer's' eye when she was performing Shirley Bassey so she homed in on me and for one awful moment I thought she would drag me up to dance.  Marilyn kept telling me to keep my knees in just in case one of the performers sat on my lap.  

There was an interlude when one of the ladies did a comedy routione, dressed as an old granny with a stick.  She did make it topical by throwing in a bit of Jacqui Lambie's horrendous radio interview.  Ageist and sexist all at once.

Clearly some of the audience enjoyed it but most of us were cringing in embarrassment.  Just another one of life's little experiences.

Tuesday, July 22nd ....

I'm reading a book at the moment called Dreaming of the Bones, part of a series by Deborah Crombie.  It's an odd book.  The others in the series are fairly standard crime stories but this one is much more pretentious.  It's about the supposed suicide of a poet and is set in the village of Grantchester near Cambridge.

Grantchester is famous as the home of the poet Rupert Brooke who wrote the lines: ... Stands the church clock at 10 to 3, and is there honey still for tea?  Brooke lived at the Old Vicarage, which is now  occupied by Lord Jeffrey Archer and his wife, scientist Mary Archer.  There has been a house on the site for 400 years and Mary Archer recently published a book about it. 

The Guardian crossword setter Araucaria set a famous clue: Poetic scene has, surprisingly, chaste Lord Archer vegetating (3, 3, 8, 12) giving, as an anagram, THE OLD VICARAGE GRANTCHESTER.

Brilliant!

My friend, Brian, took me to see Grantchester when I was in UK last year.  I saw the clock (now replaced) and the Old Vicarage, and the river where Cambridge students bring their punts to picnic in the fields. 

Even though the book is a bit staid, it's interesting to visualise the places mentioned in it, and Grantchester is now another place we intend to revisit .... some time.

Another interesting belief is that Grantchester has the highest concentration in the world of Nobel Prize winners living there, probably because of its proximity to the University of Cambridge.

Sunday, July 20th ....

All in all, it's been an interesting weekend. Madi and Josh have come down to spend the weekend with us so we're busier than we would normally be. We had lunch yesterday at the 50’s Diner here in Deloraine: hamburgers, spiders and rock 'n' roll for everyone and then up the mountain to play in the snow.

It was a very nice family meal around the table last night and this morning there's been a binge of cooking in the kitchen. It looks like mini quiches for lunch. We'll probably leave at about 3 to get Madi and Josh home to their dogs.

The highlight of the weekend, though, was the announcement at dinner last night that Madi and Josh have become engaged. Great excitement all round.

Their move to Launceston has been very positive for them. The stability of having their own house has encouraged them to look more optimistically to the future. They're both enrolled in TAFE, starting Monday, and they are starting to talk about where they plan to be in a year's time.

We couldn't be happier for them and, of course, will support them as they work towards their dreams.

Saturday, July 19th ....

Our Probus Christmas dinner was a great success. There were 26 of us who sat down to a terrific meal and it seemed that everyone was happy to sit through the afternoon, enjoying the desserts and coffee.

One of our new members offered to share his knowledge of wine with us and brought along a sampling of wines from Taylor's of the Clare Valley. His son, Adam, is the chief winemaker there and supplies his father with all he can drink, and more. We sampled a very good Riesling and a Sparkling, and 4 different qualities of Red. Adam was one of the developers of Jansz bubbly when he worked at Pipers Brook so he knows about that style. The Riesling was a typical Clare Valley style and the Reds were excellent.

Kevin described them as $10, $15, $20 and $40 (mainland prices) and we could certainly understand why the prices varied. The $10 one was enjoyable but the $40 one was terrific. Not a lot was drunk so I looked forward to having some leftovers but, when the dust settled, my share was an inch or two of a 2013 Promised Land Shiraz - nice enough but not earth-shattering. I've no idea who smuggled out the two $40 bottles, but they were clever.

However, a nice surprise was the donating to the club of a magnum of their 2009 Cabernet Sauvignon, in a presentation box. This wine won a Gold Medal at the 2012 New World Wine Show and a couple of silvers, so it's pretty good. We think we will raffle it. Maybe $5 per ticket? We'll see.

The Christmas Dinner experience made me think of the famous words of Pink Floyd: If you don't eat yer meat, you won't get any pudding. How can you get pudding if you don't eat yer meat? This must be said in a coarse Scottish accent (think Glasgow).

Saturday, July 19th ....

Jamie and Nera have been very worried about her family in Balatan over the past few days as they were right in the path of the typhoon. Nera had a couple of sleepless nights waiting for news and was very anxious when she couldn't make contact. Eventually, she heard from her sister in Manila that all was well and they had come through unscathed.

They were also worried about their own house which is right on the beach and very vulnerable. Nera's father organised for some large rocks to be put in front of the house but they couldn't do much more than that. The typhoon destroyed the house next door to them but only tore off part of their roof. There was some other external damage but it could have been much worse.

We heard also from our friend Kit who lost some trees from her garden in Calamba and some roof damage to her resort which is not far from Balatan. She is more concerned about her tree plantations because she lost 5000 mahogany trees in the 2012 typhoon and can't afford a loss like that again.

It's been a beautiful day in a Deloraine so I took Jamie and Nera, and Madi and Josh up towards the Great Lake looking for snow. There was still a lot lying on the ground so they had a good time chucking snowballs at each other.

Monday, July 14th ....

The tables are set and we're well on the way for a successful dinner tomorrow. Before the hordes descend, we have taken a photo.

I also wanted to give a more updated version of the divinely inspired words of Julian of Norwich. These are the commercially inspired words of Sonny Kapoor of the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.

'Everything will be all right in the end and, if things are not all right, it is not yet the end.'

Monday, July 14th ....

We're planning a Christmas Dinner tomorrow for our Probus Club. Traditionally, the July meeting has been a celebration of Christmas in Winter and the dubious honour of hosting it has fallen on our shoulders. We have just over 20 members and are inducting 2 more tomorrow, so we're catering for 30. There are three tables in the dining room which will seat 26 and any leftovers will have to sit at the table in the kitchen.

Most of our members are over 80 and don't eat much but they'll be served turkey and ham, roast vegetables, stuffing and gravy, followed by pavlova, fruit salad and cream, mint slice, and Janet's shortbread. Janet has a lot to answer for. We were going to have a simple buffet but she said that the oldies would be disappointed and deserved to have a traditional sit-down meal. Of course, she's not here to share the work.

Today is the fourth day of beautiful weather and we hope it hangs around until tomorrow at least.

I've always read a lot and am always impressed when I come across a great piece of writing. Some authors have the knack of putting words together which create a special effect, when the sum of the words is greater than the words themselves. I thought I might, occasionally, repeat some of these elegant passages in my blog. Apart from anything else, they'll be an aide memoire when I read back in future years.

These words come from Julian of Norwich who was a Christian anchoress, born about 1343 and died about 1416. Her name was not Julian but her cell was attached to the wall of St Julian's Church in Norwich so that's how she was known. She was a mystic who claimed that God spoke to her in dreams.

'All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manners of things shall be well.'

Friday, 11th July ....

Life is starting to get back to normal after the wedding. It's been a beautiful day and that's a great relief after the miserable weather we've been having. Nera has made the most wonderful soup for dinner; I thought it might have an exotic Tagalog name but it's simply Chicken and Macaroni soup. Apparently, it's often served for breakfast but I'd enjoy it at any time.


Nera has spent most of today filling in more forms for her application for a residency visa. It's never-ending but at least she is able to apply from within Australia. Quite a lot of money has to be handed over with the application and it's non-refundable, no matter what the outcome.

Sandy put me on to an iPad app called Pinterest. It brings together the internet scourings of people all over the world and allows you to pick up anything which interests you and 'pin' it to a board. I spent an hour today following random ideas and picked up some wonderful posters, pictures and ideas, in topics as eclectic as Dr Who, Japanese villages, bridges, Australian Impressionist art and lessons to be learned from the movie Brave.

Friday, July 4th ...

I'm feeling a little guilty about neglecting the blog so I'm making an effort to kick it off again. When I opened Blogger, I found this little bit I'd written previously and it seems a shame to delete it.

Saturday, May 24th ... I'm sitting in a pop-up shop in Launceston, waiting for customers to arrive. The shop is set up to display some of the art produced by Giant Steps' students; today is the last day and we hope to sell some of the last few items which haven't been snapped up. The show us being sponsored by Tasgas and they have included a few items devised by their staff members and all in all it's a very interesting mix.

We have been busy over the last few weeks moving into our new house. It's been a slow process and I've discovered that what we did with ease in our thirties takes a lot longer now that we are a little (or a lot) older. However, the house is great and it's been well worth the effort. Jamie and Nera have arrived from the Philippines and are starting to make the house fit their needs.

Back to the future - tonight, we're taking a break from wedding arrangements. Jamie and Nera have moved out for this week, into a little cottage just around the corner. We have Anne and Alan, and Sandy and Janet staying with us. We've been drinking lots of wine and eating good food so life is pleasant.

Nera's having friends around tonight for a hen party. They've set up the karaoke and I expect the place will be bopping. Their menfolk are relegated to another room. Pity the poor neighbours! We've ordered Thai food as everyone's fed up with being in the kitchen.

We had planned to have the wedding ceremony out of doors but that's not a clever decision in Tasmania in July so it will now be held in the Rotary Pavilion. Food preparation began today and tomorrow will be spent setting up. It should be great.

Wednesday, April 9th ....

Well, we've found a house. We ended up with a short-list of three and decided to opt for the one that is owned by a Rotarian friend. He bought it recently as a potential retirement home but is not ready to leave the farm yet. It's a house with a history.

It was owned by John Gay's stepmother. John Gay is Deloraine's favourite son. One-time Chairman of Gunns Limited, his attempts to foist a Pulp Mill on the Tamar Valley led to the bankruptcy and closure of the company. But not before John sold $35 million worth of shares. Charged with insider trading, he was found guilty and received a slap on the wrist.

It's a great house and there is always the hope that we will find a stash of John's fortune hidden away from the taxman, and forgotten.

It's another bleak day in Deloraine. Marilyn continues her knitting of little jumpers for penguins. Apparently, they're needed when Fairy Penguins are rescued from oil slicks. They stop the penguin from trying to preen their feathers and ingesting the oil.

Sunday, April 6th ....

We spent yesterday at the caravan. Marilyn kept herself busy, as she does when things are worrying her and I spent the day on the riverbank, reading. We handle stress in different ways and we are certainly stressed at the moment, worrying about Jamie and trying to establish a sound base for our future life.

I'm pleased to say that Jamie seems confident that he'll be out of hospital in a day or two. Apparently, he's had his final blood transfusion and now needs to allow time for recuperating. His house in Dilston is still occupied by Madeleine and her boyfriend so he and Nera will live with us for a few months at least. Thinking ahead, we've decided that a very large house is not the answer in the long run. What need will we have of four bedrooms and two living rooms when Jamie and Nera move on? So, we're concentrating at the moment on reasonably large 3-bedroom houses which won't demand too much looking after when we become empty-nesters once again.

We have two already in mind, one in Launceston and one in Deloraine, but have three more to see on Tuesday.

I've attached a photo of the riverbank near our caravan with the remains of tractor treads in the mud, like dinosaur bones. I hope I've written enough now to get up to date, and to get my critics off my back!!

Sunday, April 6th ....

I watched Q&A the other night for the first time in ages and it was a relief to see that it was 'politician-free'. I was enchanted by the Egyptian political commentator, Mona Eltihawy, who spoke with passion and is clearly a voice of her generation, trying to break through the entrenched views of the status quo.

I was intrigued by Tim Wilson, the so-called Freedom Commissioner. An advocate for competition in business and a staunch speaker against government largesse, he nevertheless accepted a position which was never advertised on a salary of $325000 p.a. It's funny how our beliefs go out the window when enough money is involved.

What intrigued me is that he described himself as a 'classic liberal', and most of what he said supported that. When the Liberal Party was founded in the 1940’s, Robert Menzies said:

...what we must look for, and it is a matter of desperate importance to our society, is a true revival of liberal thought which will work for social justice and security, for national power and national progress, and for the full development of the individual citizen, though not through the dull and deadening process of socialism.

The name Liberal was chosen deliberately for its associations with progressive nineteenth century free enterprise and social equality

There was certainly a need for that element in Australian politics as the Liberal Party was in Government for the next 22 years. The way that Tim Wilson spoke on Q&A, he comes from that tradition - a believer in free enterprise and competition, but a fighter for social justice. I suspect he called himself a classic liberal to dissociate himself from the conservative excesses of the Tony Abbots and the George Brandises.

Sadly, today's Liberal Party is a shadow of the original party. Social Justice has gone out the window, elitism and preference for big business are the priorities. To be fair, the party should change its name; it's a true Conservative Party

Sunday, April 6th ....

I use this blog as an aide memoire to remind me of things we have done so I should record some of what occurred between the cruise and coming back to Tasmania. I took the chance to see Uncle Archie who is looking well but is clearly more disabled ever day. He says he is wondering what life is all about when he can't take part in what he enjoys. If he were an Eskimo, we would put him out on the ice for the polar bears but both ice and bears are in short supply in Wollongong, so he just has to sit in God's Waiting Room until his turn comes. It's a bugger!

We had some great days out. We took the train to Kiama on our own one day and really enjoyed just wandering around this beautiful village. We were there again the following week meeting up with Jim and Di. It's always great to see them and hear about the interesting way they live their lives.

After much speculation about the weather, we had a day out with Sandy and Jenny, taking the train to Sydney and a ferry to Abbotsford for lunch at the Sydney Rowing Club. This is a proudly historic club whose early members included Alfred Deakin and AB Paterson. Now, of course, to stay open, they rely on day trippers buying lunch.

On the Saturday that I was catching the night train to Melbourne, Marilyn came with me to Sydney and we took a ferry ride to Watsons Bay to fill in time. It's a great place with terrific places to eat including the famous Doyle's Restaurant. Somehow, we missed a ferry and the next one was late so we were sweating on getting back to Central Station in time for Marilyn to catch her train back to Bulli, but we made it with 5 minutes to spare.

The XPT to Melbourne was great. It's not a patch on the European or Japanese trains but I had booked in First Class so I avoided the Ferals and Bogans who were clustered back in Economy. There were only a handful of passengers in our carriage but the computer had designated another person to sit beside me. How ridiculous, with dozens of empty seats, they opted for that. Of course I moved but the guard was careful to note where I was sitting, no doubt to help in identifying my body if there was a train disaster.

I was only an hour into the journey when Marilyn rang to say that Jamie wouldn't be on the plane, so wouldn't be waiting for me at Melbourne airport. The best laid plans .....

Sunday, April 6th ....

We're still in the throes of house-hunting, with a few more to see in the coming weeks. The system of renting a house has certainly changed since the last time we were looking. Then, it was a simple matter of saying, "I'll take it," signing a lease and paying the rent when you remembered. Now you have to apply for the residence and wait until the agent lets you know if you are suitable.

The application forms are intrusive, too. One we looked at asked for the names and ages of any children. Does this mean that Toby and Camilla are accepted but Tiana and Thiessen are rejected? Surely there's something in the Anti-Discrimination Act to nobble this.

We woke this morning to find a video on our phones of Jamie singing 'Take a Look at Me Now.' This illness has certainly been a life-changing experience for him.

Friday, 4th April ....

I've been very slack over the past fortnight. We're back in Tassie but are not yet settled back into routine. The serious news is that Jamie is still in the Philippines, in hospital. He didn't make It to the flight home but instead ended up in Intensive Care.

He had not been well for most of his visit and had already missed a flight home on February 22nd. We hoped he would, at least, get on a plane so we could deal with his issues here. We don't know when he'll get here but we know he's getting the best of care where he is. Luckily, we have very good Filipino friends who are looking after his welfare and his fiancée, Nera, is a tower of strength.

Marilyn and I have been trying to concentrate on finding a place to live. We've seen a few places in Launceston and will see another this afternoon. There are also some in Deloraine to be viewed on Tuesday. We're appalled at what some landlords will put on the market. One 4-bedroom place was really grubby and we wouldn't be game to cook on the filthy stove. Yet it was priced at the high end. On the other hand, for $15 per week more, we could have a mansion on Nob Hill where the original settlers built their big houses. The only problem is that there will be lots of applications.

When we were there, a couple arrived with their two kids and proceeded to organise a game of Hide and Seek. Mum was trying to push the kids into the linen cupboard while Dad counted to 20. I think their chances of getting the place are Nil. It's a great house and I hope it comes our way.