Wednesday, February 1 .....

After my first poem seemed to be a success, I thought I would try another but this one didn't flow as easily. Perhaps it's because I tried to write it in front of the TV and couldn't focus properly on the words. Anyway, I tossed it aside and only came back to it yesterday. Like the first one, it's pretty rough and I know I need to write a couple of other verses to make it sensible. However, I'd rather start a new one than fiddle around with a second-rate effort, so here it is:


THE CAT’S MISSING

There’s something quite unnatural about families who have cats
It doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense
‘Cause cats are independent and as lovable as rats
And who’s prepared to come to their defence?

Is there even just one reason why cats should rule our lives?
Is there anyone who’ll try to make a case?
For giving love and house room to these selfish feline pests
Who think they’re better than the human race?

But when our cat went missing, I’m afraid I must admit
That I was just as anxious as the rest
I helped to check the cupboards and the other likely spots
Where it might have crossed her mind to make a nest.

We looked in vain for hours to find what had occurred
How could she disappear from off the earth?
I know she’s not too hefty, but she’s bigger than a mouse
So we checked all round the place for all we’re worth.

And then my brother, Sandy, told us all of what he’d heard
Around the caravan at dead of night
Loud creaks and bumps and rattles, and squeals and clangs and moans,
Apparently it gave him quite a fright.

Now we’ve had a happy ending, the cat is safely home
We found her in the most unlikely place
She’d crawled into the storage of the caravan in the yard
And had to spend the night in that small space.

The cat should learn a lesson from her ordeal in the boot
That curiosity’s a troubling trait.
If you can’t resist exploring each int’resting place you find
Just be prepared to meet a nasty fate.

Tuesday, January 31 .....

I know I shouldn’t be counting but this is my 11th post for the year. If I can average 9 or 10 each month, I’ll have more than 100 by year’s end. I’m assuming there will be a good number of posts while we are on holiday in May/June but I need to keep them going during the quiet months (and there will be many of those).

The Stallholder Application Package went up on the Craft Fair website today and we expect an influx of ‘phone calls and emails over the next few weeks as people get themselves sorted out. I’ve already had 4 or 5 emails and several calls from prospective new applicants and that can only be good. In recent years, we’ve averaged about 65% Tasmanian exhibitors and 35% from the mainland. I’d like to tweak that ratio a bit to give a bit more emphasis to local crafts people but we only have a small population and we might just have tapped into all of the good ones from the Apple Isle.

Marilyn mentioned the other day that she had seen a couple of people picking blackberries on the side of the road so I thought I should check it out. I’ve been waiting for them to come on, looking at the ones we have growing in the yard but they are still small and red. However, the ones across the road are obviously a different species and are big, black and juicy (I’m sure there’s a racist joke there but I’m not touching it). I filled a 2 litre container in no time and will do the same again later this evening and probably tomorrow as well.

I made room in the freezer today by taking out a couple of containers of chicken stock to make soup so I’ve got space to freeze some blackberries. They will be the ones left over after we’ve made lots of delights. It’s time to google for some recipes.


Tonight's the Rotary meeting but I'm giving it a miss. I thought I would take the caravan down to Deloraine tomorrow for a few days. Marilyn has gone to Wollongong to see the rellies and I'll take the chance to get some work done on the arrangements for the Craft Fair.

Monday, January 30 .....

We certainly have our share of strange creatures around here but Jamie came across one the other day which is as strange as any. It was certainly a nest, made of mud and shaped like a cylinder. When he moved it, it broke in half and seemed to be full of spiders. First thought – a spider’s nest, but which spider makes a mud nest? On closer look, the spiders seemed to be full-size and were not all the same: some were brown, others grey and others had patterns on their back. Second thought – it’s a nest of some other creature which has put the spiders in it.

The obvious candidate was a wasp so it was clearly a case for the internet. It seems there are several species of wasp which make a mud nest, with in which an egg is laid and spiders provided as food for the grub when it hatched out. The spiders are not dead; they are paralysed so they remain fresh until the grub is ready to eat them. You can see in the photograph the remains of the nest, spiders and a grub or two. The wasps look deadly and can give a painful bite but are ‘reluctant to bite’, according to the Australian Museum website. I’ll take that with a grain of salt and avoid them at all cost.

Yesterday was the baptism of Josef Santino Ramirez, the first-born of Shiela, one of the Occupational Therapists we brought out from the Philippines to work at Giant Steps. She met a Filipino man here, married and now lives in a nice house in Launceston. Her mother is visiting from their rice farm in Albay Province and is enjoying the chance to see the life her daughter has made for herself. Marilyn has volunteered to look after the little boy for a day or two a week when Shiela returns to work and she will just love this. The family have decided to call him Santino.

The church service was as expected but the party afterwards was fantastic. Probably 100 people, most of them Filipino crammed into the Mowbray Bowling Club, with wonderful food, an open bar and the loudest music you can imagine. Lots of women danced (it seems not to be the culture for men to join in) and some people sang. I left early (the music was too much for my delicate ears) but Marilyn stayed on to get to know the baby better.

Saturday, January 28 .....

The little cafe down on the corner advertises a Friday night Happy Hour when all the locals gather for a drink and a gossip. It sounds very civilised but we’ve managed to avoid going until last night. The weather has been wonderful here for several weeks but it’s gradually getting hotter and we hit 30 one day this week and 29 yesterday. Marilyn went down to the cafe to pick up a parcel (they’re also the Australia Post agent) and got talking to the two women who run it. Long story short – Happy Hour was to be at 6 instead of 5 to accommodate the heat and we were going. No point complaining, I had a quick shower, put on fresh shorts and shirt and off we went.

The first person we saw was an old friend, John Hosford, the ex-Head of Junior School at Launceston Grammar. Apparently he and his wife, Margaret, have a house in Windermere Road. One fellow turned up on his bike; he does a 15 Km circuit each morning and afternoon, riding past our place as part of his trip. He promises to call in when he needs a chat. His wife is away in California so he’s a bit lonely. There was an older couple, Jim and Bernice, who entertained us with stories about their new dog called Dougal. There were probably about 30 people all told, and they all bought several drinks and food.

The story of the cafe is an old one. The new highway has bypassed them and they no longer get the passing trade. When the new highway was being built, the men all came in each day for their lunch but, now that the work is finished, the shop is feeling the pinch, the Happy Hour is one strategy to keep the cash flowing. The cafe is also the shop-front for a local winery, Native Point which has just won a gold medal for their Pinot Noir. The proprietor is a Scot, called Sheena, and she comes each Friday night to sell her wines and talk about them. The shop ladies, Kerry and the other woman make nice light dishes and sell them for reasonable prices; Marilyn had a quiche and salad and I had a seafood crepe and chips. On Thursday night we were at the Casino and the food there was awful. We both had fish and my chips were inedible. The so-called chefs there could have learnt a bit from the two humble cooks from the Windermere cafe.

I admit that I was reluctant to go but I thoroughly enjoyed the company and the food. It looks like this will become a regular event for us if we’re not away in the caravan.

Friday, January 27 .....

I booked the flights for our trip today. I’d been watching the prices on zuji.com and they varied a bit from week to week but we couldn’t make the booking until we decided whether we were going to add Manila to our itinerary or not. In the end we decided that the object of the trip was a week in Japan followed by a cruise. Anything we added on would be a distraction. I remember my brother saying that, when they get back to San Diego after their North American cruise, they’ll just want to get home. We’ll be the same. So, the decision is made, when the ship docks in Tianjin, we’ll have one night to get our breath back and then it’s straight home.

The flights will be: Sydney to Osaka, Beijing to Melbourne. The Chinese airlines are by far the cheapest – only $829 by China Southern and a few dollars more by Air China but I had found a site on the internet which gave passenger reviews and they were appalling: broken seats, surly staff, no English, poor food. Doesn’t sound ideal even at those cheap prices. We ended up going with Singapore Airlines, for a bit more, but we know we’ll be comfortable and we can earn Frequent Flyer points with them.

The information that we received told me to go to a site called Sabre-Almost There where I could get a copy of the itinerary (even though they had already sent me one). From there I was steered to an iPhone app called Trip Case and what a delight that is. The itinerary is sent to that program on the phone and you can input other bits of information such as other activities planned, cruise or train details and accommodation. When I was typing in that we plan to stay at the Crowne Plaza, a window appeared asking whether I meant the Crown Plaza, 48 Wang Fujing Avenue, Beijing, and I said Yes. The phone immediately downloaded reams of information about the hotel, telephone numbers, name of restaurant, etc, and 15 photographs. It must concentrate on up-market hotels because when I also typed in Formule1 in Melbourne, the message appeared ‘We do not recognise this establishment. Type it in yourself.’ So there!

Talking about cheeky internet message, Marilyn had found a site which offered free samples of soup. She sent me the link so I filled it out as instructed. However, the link appeared again yesterday, so I filled it out again. When I submitted it, a message came back: NO MORE SOUP FOR YOU. It sounds like something from Oliver Twist or Pink Floyd’s The Wall.

Tuesday, January 24th .....

I mentioned that we had a couple of friends here for a few days. They’re touring Tasmania in a caravan and have parked in the front yard before they head off today to Myrtle Park, one of our favourite spots in Tassie.

Geoff is a poet and he entertained us last night by reading a few of his poems. He has a terrific wit and a nice way of putting his ideas into words. I was inspired to try my hand and Geoff challenged me to write a poem about Grey Nomads. I went to bed with a line or two in my head and got up early this morning to flesh it out.

And here it is.

GREY NOMADS

When your days of toil are over and it’s time to take a break
There are options to consider and decisions you must make
For years you’ve spent each waking hour in trying to earn a crust
But now you’ve got to fill your days in case you turn to rust.

Perhaps it’s time to take up bowls or join a cycling club
Or learn to play the oboe or take refuge in the pub
Some take delight in reading books or watching DVDs
But I’m sure you’ll find you soon get tired of nothing more than these.

Some folks take up cruising on the ocean wide and blue
And you might think that could be fun but it might be boring too
Some learn to use the internet, work out the family tree
Others think it’s pretty smart to get one more degree.

Your house is worth a million and that’s a tidy sum
And you know the kids have worked it out, although they’re playing dumb
The grand-kids talk of Disneyland when Nan and Pop are dead
You’re worth more to them when you’re gone, a truth that must be said.

Each time they come to visit you, only once in a blue moon
You can see the dollar signs in their eyes and they think, Will it be soon?
They look at you to calculate how long you might survive
Yes, how much longer will you live, when you’re only sixty-five.

You know there’s just one answer to make your last years fun
Sell the house, buy a ‘van and let the good times run
Join the Nomad army, grab freedom on the road
No more wasted afternoons, no lawns to be mowed.

With your Cruiser and your Jayco, your days will be your own
You can drive or you can sit around, your worries will have flown
You can feel the joys of this brown land and see its very best
With new-made friends to pass the time and fill the hours with zest.

Live life as it was meant to be, with countless things to do
With every day a new delight and a new adventure too
There’s lots in this great country to make us shout and cheer
So pack your bags, hitch up the van - it’s off for another year.

Monday, January 23 .....

There was a breakout from Hobart’s Risdon Prison over the weekend. This is not unusual but there were red faces all around for the prison guards because the escapees announced their intention on Facebook. So, all their on-line friends knew it was on. Of course, the question being asked is, how can prisoners get access to Facebook? Apparently, one of them had a mobile phone – highly irregular in prison and raises questions for the effectiveness of the security measures. I hope their re-capture gets some space on Facebook too; it’s only fair.

Our cat disappeared yesterday. She didn’t turn up in the evening and she wasn’t around for her morning milk. We weren’t particularly surprised because she’s pretty independent and spends a lot of time outside. Our routine is to lock her in the laundry overnight but she had a cat flap and we know she gets out during the night but she’s always back in bed by the time we wake up or waiting on the front doorstep to be let in for breakfast. Over the past few weeks, she’s been reluctant to go to the laundry but we haven’t been bothered about that; she doesn’t do any damage if she sleeps under my desk overnight.

By mid-morning, Marilyn was a bit concerned and searched all the cupboards, under the beds, in the caravan cupboards as well and even went next door to check whether the cat might have been inadvertently locked in their shed. However, there was no sign of her. Sandy, who’s been sleeping in the caravan, told Marilyn he had heard someone prowling around during the night and I think he was trying to convince her that there had been some evil beast about who grabbed the cat for a midnight snack.

Because it was a nice day, I opened the boot of the caravan to get out the folding chairs – and the cat jumped out of the boot! What we call the boot is, in fact, a compartment under the caravan bed accessible by two doors on the outside of the van. It turned out that Sandy had put the chairs away the night before and had, apparently, not noticed the cat when he shut the doors. Not a very plausible story, I would have thought. It certainly explains the odd noise he heard during the night. Anyone who would lock a cat in a caravan boot deserves to have a disturbed night.

Sandy’s sister-in-law, Sandra and her husband Geoff arrived yesterday to stay for a couple of days. They’re currently touring Tasmania in a caravan and Sandy’s grandson Ty had been with them for the last week. Sandy and Ty were travelling back to Sydney together so Sandra and Geoff were delivering him into his grandfather’s care. Jamie and Ty cooked a terrific barbecue for us and we sat outside until the cool night air drove us inside to play cards. A good night all ‘round!

Saturday, January 21st .....

I nearly stayed up last night to write this post while the ideas were fresh in my mind. However, here it is at 6.30am so my memories are still vivid. Marilyn decided we should drive down to Deloraine to see a performance at the Little Theatre. We had a couple of things to pick up from the storage and Sandy had offered to take us out for a meal so it seemed that everything fitted neatly. We weren’t sure who was putting on the show but assumed it was the Dramatic Society which has a pretty good reputation.

After a very good meal at the pub we walked across the bridge to see the show. The first surprise was that the show was a fundraiser for the Meander Valley Greens. No problem in that but it meant that the usual group of talented stalwarts weren’t necessarily involved. We were there a little early so saw some of the sound checks and so on. One performer stood at the microphone talking seemingly to himself while the sound man tried to give him instructions which he couldn’t hear. I think the sound man wanted the performer to project more but that message certainly didn’t get through.

The idea of an Old Time Music Hall is a reasonable one but maybe a little dated in this day and age. However, we obediently joined in the sing-alongs: Down at the Old Bull and Bush, Da-Da-Da-Da, etc, all sung three times. The Chairman gallantly encouraged the rather small audience to sing louder and there were enough of us old enough to know the songs to make it sound alright.

The Chorus worked hard to entertain but it was clear some of them were embarrassed to be involved. One woman in purple did her own thing at one end while one or two of the men at the back seemed to be in a different play. Marilyn congratulated the woman in purple after the show, saying, You were on your own journey up there. That’s a back-handed compliment if ever I heard one.

My favourite piece was a couple of elderly gentlemen performing The Bold Gendarmes. Neither of them had any sense of rhythm or timing and the poor pianist valiantly tried to keep up with them. Again it seemed as if each man was performing alone; there was no interaction between them at all. One of them looked like he had one glass of wine too many, the other looked like a startled wallaby in the headlights.


There were three exceptional performers: a soprano, a dancer and a cabaret singer whose performance of Waiting at the Church was a show-stopper. Unfortunately, when she tried And All That Jazz, the pianist couldn’t cope. In his defence, we gather he was a last-minute replacement. We also liked Fairy Bluebell who sang Nobody Loves a Fairy When She’s Fifty.

In traditional Deloraine style, supper was provided at interval: hot dogs sausage rolls and a glass of wine if you needed fortification for the second act. In all, a terrific night with some excellent performances and some excruciating ones. There’s a matinee performance today and another one tonight. Maybe some of the kinks will be ironed out by then.

Wednesday, January 18th .....

My brother, Sandy, has invited himself down to spend a few days with us. He is keen to be involved in some of our ‘gardening’ and there’s certainly plenty to do. The problem is, when I come to a particularly heavy rock, I mentally put it aside to be dealt with later. Sandy, on the other hand, beavers away at it until it’s moved. It means that I have to work quite a bit harder and have fewer rests. Oh, well, he’s only here for a week!

One of the tasks we had in mind to do was cement together some rocks to make a cairn to hold up our letter box, so that was done yesterday. It’s not a bad job, all things considered, and even includes a secret slot to hold a geo-cache. There’s a sliver of rock which slides out and there’s a little cavity behind where I can secrete a little box. We’ve also moved dozens of half-buried rocks and chopped up several dead trees. Tonight, we had a burn-off to clear all the twigs and bits and pieces left over from the chain-sawing. Jamie rang the Fire Department to get a permit so it was all quite legal. The dry sticks I’ve been collecting around the yard burn very fiercely so it was good that Sandy was here to help supervise.

We had a great night out with Rotary on Tuesday. A visit had been arranged to a tomato farm at Turners Beach, about 130 Km from where we live at Dilston. So, it was quite a long trip but well worth it. Currently, they only grow two varieties of mini-tomatoes: Cherry and Perini and they produce about 13 tonnes each month. After two months in the nursery, the vines are planted out in the glass house and kept producing for 52 weeks before they are discarded and a new crop planted. Over time, the stem grows longer and longer and can reach up to 14m in length. Each week, the whole plant is moved a bit further along the row and the stem tied up. It’s too hard to explain but these pictures might help.
We decided the Perini tomatoes are the ones to buy so we’re looking out for them in Coles Stores along the East Coast. Does that sound like an ad? Maybe I should ask Coles for a few samples.

After the tour we went off to the Bridge Hotel at Forth for a terrific Roast Lamb dinner. There were about 45 of us so the publican must have been delighted to welcome us.

Wednesday, January 11th .....

We decided we would call in to the Casino on Sunday afternoon for a cocktail to celebrate our wedding anniversary. The carpark was busier than usual and there were hordes of people milling around in the Wintergarden. Clearly there was something on.

We checked in our Rewards card (we joined years ago and haven’t seen a reward yet!) and printed out a couple of vouchers each. One gave us a free $1 Keno ticket but the other gave us 5 $1-coins to use on the pokies - never had that before. It seemed there was to be a draw at 4 o’clock for $1000 and the crowd were all here to try their luck. The Casino is obviously feeling the pinch and are trying to draw in the crowd by offering incentives. I don’t think they were having much luck with the lot that we saw. Marilyn got talking to some of them. Most pocketed the $5, didn’t buy a drink and went home after the draw.

However, we finally found a seat, and I went off to buy the cocktails, a glass of champage for Marilyn and a Whisky Sour for me. The barmaid had never heard of it! Rob Roy? Rusty Nail? No chance! Any whisky- based cocktail? She brought out a tattered folder and starting flicking through – and offered me a Smooth Gentleman or a Tennessee Jack. For goodness sake! By this stage, I would have settled for anything, even Bourbon Whiskey. The Tennessee Jack wasn’t bad but certainly underlined for me why I prefer a proper Scotch.

We met a couple of friends and, while I was talking to them, Marilyn wandered off with the $10 of coins to lose them in the pokies –and came back with $40. Not bad, just about paid for our drinks and afternoon tea.

Marilyn decided at the weekend that she would like to improve her computer skills and hit on the idea of scouring the internet for on-line surveys and freebies- much more interesting than doing mindless exercises. There are a number of sites which will give you points for filling-in a survey and there are various prizes and rewards. There are also lots of places where you can get free samples. One of Jamie’s friends gets stuff in her mailbox every day and has passed on to us samples of tea, perfume, make-up and so on. Marilyn has taken to this with her usual enthusiasm to the point where we have to remind her when it’s time to cook dinner.

When I come in from doing some chore in the yard, she always says, Would you like a cup of coffee? When I say Yes, she now says, Well, you can make it. I suppose she’s getting back at me for all the hours I have spent engrossed in my computer and letting the operation of the house pass me by. It’s all part of life’s rich tapestry and I’ll just have to get used to it.

Sunday, January 8th .....

Today is our 46th Wedding Anniversary. As Marilyn says, we should probably just stick with each other now. When we married, we couldn’t envisage where we would be in 46 years time. In those days, couples who reached fifty years had their photographs in the paper: old men with crumpled suits and old women with home perms looking bemused at all the fuss. We’re nearly there and can’t see ourselves in that way.

We were married in traditional style: white dress, dinner suit, 4 bridesmaids and so on. Our plan for a honeymoon was a cruise on the Angelina Lauro from Sydney to Perth. Unfortunately, there was a fire on the ship while it was in dry dock in Malta and the cruise was cancelled. The only other option the travel agent could offer was a coach trip from Sydney to Melbourne, Adelaide, Canberra, etc. A strange honeymoon, you might say but it was great.

When we came home, we set up house in Russell Vale where Marilyn had her studio for teaching Piano. I worked in Sydney at Coogee Boys’ Prep so every morning we would get up early so I could catch the train at about 6.30. It was always a rush and I can remember one morning scrambling up on the wrong side of the train as it pulled out. With all the fences nowadays, you couldn’t even get to that side of the train. Each week I would buy a weekly train ticket and a weekly ticket for the bus from Eddy Avenue to Randwick. I always carried a ten-shilling note for an emergency. It was matter of pride that the note remained unbroken by the end of the week. There were no mobile phones, or credit cards to make life more complicated.

In 1966, Robert Gordon Menzies was Prime Minister and had been for 16 years. Australia was certainly the lucky country, there were plenty of jobs and everybody was optimistic. The average wage was about $40 per week but the cost of living was low. It was an innocent time and people were genuinely shocked by crimes such as the disappearance on Australia Day of the Beaumont children from Glenelg Beach in South Australia which caused an extraordinary reaction.

Our TV set was black and white. The most popular show on TV was the Mavis Bramston Show. Don Lane and Graham Kennedy were big, and getting bigger. Normie Rowe won the Logie for the Most Popular Teenager on TV. Nancy Sinatra’s These Boots are Made for Walkin’ was on top of the charts for 8 weeks, Yellow Submarine and Good Vibrations also made it to #1 and the Easybeats released Friday on My Mind. All good clean fun songs!

The world has turned many times since then and our lives have had their ups and downs but, if I can be sentimental for a moment, life is richer when you’re married than when you’re single. We married in an optimistic time and have been able to hold on to that optimism for 46 years. Life is as good today as it was then and I certainly wouldn’t have wanted anything different.

Friday, January 6th .....

I sometimes wonder why I write this blog. On the surface, I suppose it’s a just a modern form of the old diary which people used to write to keep a record of their lives and as a reminder of the interesting things which happen. I know that I sometimes read back and I enjoy being reminded of things that have happened, especially the trips we’ve had. But, because it lives on-line I have to be careful in what I say and always be aware that strangers might be reading my words and forming impressions of who I really am.

It’s easy to write the episodes when we’re travelling and there are always photographs to make the posts more interesting. On other days, something will have happened which is worth recording but there are days when I have nothing to say and so I write nothing.

In my mind, I write the blog for myself and I need to keep reminding myself of that point. The complication is that, because the blog lives on-line, it’s a public document and people might believe that it’s written for them. But does that give them the right to complain when I don’t give them their regular episode. What a bloody cheek! I’m not Charles Dickens missing out on an episode of Oliver Twist; I’m just a bloke putting down his thoughts when it suits him.

Although I’m starting to get involved in the process of organising the Craft Fair, I’m still very focused on the family tree. When I started the current development, I had 479 people in my tree. Now there are more than 770 and I still have more to add in. They’re not necessarily straight-line ancestors but they do flesh-out the families that I came from. Other researchers have been terrific in passing on information. Elva Reynolds lives in Melbourne. We have a shared ancestor in a family named Cree who lived and died in Scotland. Many of them were agricultural labourers but later became involved in the textile industry around Blantyre. My mother is a descendant of Elizabeth Cree who married James McNair in the 1840s. Elva’s ancestor, David Cree, came to Australia about the same time and worked as a ship’s engineer on coastal voyages. He died in 1891 when his ship, the Taramung, was wrecked on the Five Islands, off Wollongong.

I’ve also been digging around in the history of Marilyn’s family. Hilary Lofting came to Australia in 1915 with his wife May. A child, Paul was born in 1916 but around this time Hilary left May and took up with the author, Margaret Fane whose real name was Beatrice Osborn. May and Paul lived in Darlinghurst Road until, tragically, Paul was run over by a taxi, some say on his 13th birthday. I’ve found the report of the Coroner’s Inquest when the taxi driver was handed over to the courts and charged with manslaughter. May lived until about 1963 and it seems she might have won the NSW Lottery in about 1930.

Beatrice had several children to David McKee Wright and three children to Hilary Lofting. One, named Hilary David, died young and his name was recycled to Marilyn’s father. Beatrice may have had another son. I’ve found a war record of Alexander Edward Osborn who was born in 1913 and joined the Australian army, giving his next of kin as Beatrice Osborn. He was stationed in Malaya and became a prisoner-of-war, eventually dying in Thailand. Could he have been involved in the building of the famous Thailand-Burma Railway and the Bridge over the River Kwai? More research needed!