Monday, February 27 .....

With our appalling public transport system, hitch-hiking is still prevalent in Tasmania. Most of them seem to be back-packers who hadn’t realised that there might only be one bus going in a certain direction each day. They’re often a bit hippy (but that’s not necessarily a bad thing) and it will be the female on the roadside holding up her thumb while her male partner tries to look inconspicuous in the background. I’m not inclined to pick people up but I know Jamie does it quite often and will even go out of his way to make sure they get where they are going.

Today, there was a hitch-hiker on the Georgetown Road just on the edge of the city. This was no hippy: he had on black flared trousers, white shirt and black waistcoat, with a hat and a cloth bundle on a pole. Jamie was astounded. Look, he said, it’s a German Carpenter Journeyman. Unfortunately, we had gone past before I could make the decision to stop.

I’d never heard of such a thing and had to get on the internet when I got home, and what a story I discovered. The tradition dates back to mediaeval times and is still alive in German-speaking countries. Before an apprentice could be promoted to ‘master’ he had to set out to travel around gaining experience.

The journeyman brotherhoods established a standard to ensure that wandering journeymen were not mistaken for tramps or vagabonds. They needed to be childless and debt-free (in modern times journeymen often need a police clearance) and were required to wear a specific uniform. This helps them to find shelter for the night and a ride to the next town. Each journeyman carries a log book which he gets stamped to show where he has been. In German, the journey is called a ‘waltz’ and the song, Waltzing Matilda, is based on the journeyman’s waltz. In English-speaking countries we still use the term journeyman but don't expect our craftsmen to actually make a journey.

At the beginning of the waltz, the journeyman takes only 6 Euros and he is expected to bring that amount, no more and no less, when he comes home. During the period of the waltz, he is not allowed to come within 50Km of his home town. The journey is expected to last 3 years and a day (in some cases, 2 years and a day).

Apparently, although not all apprentices take the journey nowadays, there are several hundred young men and women on the road at any one time. If we had been able to get closer, we might have found that the journeyman was wearing a golden earring and golden bracelets, and carrying a traditional curled pole called a stenz. The gold was expected to be pawned when times were tough or kept to pay the gravedigger if the journeyman happened to die on the road.

The fellow we saw today is one of four who are in Tasmania at the moment. The German word for the group is Wandergesellen (gesell is literally ‘companion’). They have completed the first year in Germany and are travelling the world for the next two years and 1 day. I found a story from the Examiner which reported that two of the journeymen had built a new chicken coop for a local family.

Isn’t it a wonderful story, and what a shame I didn’t stop!

Sunday, February 26 .....

I’m resisting making a comment about the farce playing out in the Labor Party. I’m old enough to remember (faintly) the stoush between John Gorton and Billy McMahon, and the later ones : Hawke/Keating and Howard/Peacock. Do they never learn? The best comment I’ve heard came from a female reporter on ABC who said it was like watching a dog chew off its own leg.

Jamie and I set off early this morning to drive to Hobart to see a demonstration of blacksmith skills. I plan to have a team of 5 or 6 blacksmiths working at the Craft Fair. It’s a big project but I wanted to see today’s demonstration which involved three smiths working in the same workshop. I needed to get an idea of the logistics of providing a working space, the equipment needed and the potential hazards. With all that heat, noise and sparks it will be an exciting attraction but we’ll need to have well-planned security to keep the patrons safe.

It was not a great day for it; the air temperature reached 35 degrees so, when they had the forges going in the shed, it was horrendous. They were working with a charcoal forge which is just a metal box filled with burning charcoal, with a fan forcing air in to increase the heat. There was also a gas forge, a cigar of insulated metal with the inside heated by a gas flame. Not only are they hot; they are also incredibly noisy and coupled with the mechanical hammer and the hand-held mallets, it was no symphony. It’s a hard physical job and a filthy one but the three men we saw today clearly love it. There were two of their wives there as well and they seemed to accept their lot in life quite happily.

I should say that the smiths we saw today are artists, producing work which is beautiful as well as functional. And pricey as well! I saw a fish which I thought was stunning but it was $5500 – too rich for me.

As we drove away from Battery Point (the workshop was in the old Mure’s Boatyard, which is a significant historic site in Hobart) we saw a large ship tied up at Macquarie Wharf. It was The World, that famous ship which is the home of a number of the worlds’ richest people. Their apartments are glorious and the ship keeps moving around so it’s the lifestyle of choice for those who can afford it.

A nice day out!

Thursday, February 23 .....

One of the best things to happen to Australian TV over the last few years has been the breakfast program on the ABC. At last, a show which has a quiet dignity about it and doesn’t encourage the inanities of a Kochie or a Karl.

Virginia Trioli is a star. I think her Twitter address says all that we need to know about her: LaTrioli. No false modesty there, Dame Joan Sutherland was La Stupenda; Virginia clearly sees herself in that company. I know that lots of people can’t tolerate her ‘rudeness’ when she interrupts her political guests, but I see it as her determination to pin them to answer the question she has asked. Even if she doesn’t get them to tell the truth, she does show them up to be the weasels they really are. I can’t wait until she comes back; Karina is pretty but is a lightweight compared to Latrioli.

Now Michael Rowland. I can really relate to him. I suppose he could be called a dweeb (is that a word?) and I can see a lot of myself in him. He loves puns and never resists the temptation to share his delight in them. He’s also a fan of Monty Python and is prone to quote from one of their movies at odd times. This morning he was interviewing Nicola Roxon about Kevin Rudd’s resignation, and the whole tone of the interview was very serious. Nicola was suggesting, po-faced, that Kevin saw himself as a messiah, ready to bring the ALP out of the wilderness. Michael couldn’t help himself and blurted out the line from the Life of Brian, ‘He’s not the messiah, he’s just a naughty boy.’

A magic moment in this whole fine mess (that’s a reference to Oliver Hardy in case you missed it).

I’ve spent today in town. I dropped the car off for a service this morning and thought I would have a quiet day away from the computer. It was a good chance to spend an hour or two in the Library and Harvey Norman and Officeworks. Great!

In the Mall, I met this bloke busking with his alpaca. I suppose it was, technically, busking even though neither the man nor his alpaca sang or played an instrument. The alpaca (beautiful creature!) had a leather pouch around his neck and would lift its head to receive your coins. I reckon the bloke was on to a good thing.

A postscript to my comment on the book, The Hound of the D’Urbervilles – after the first chapter or two the cleverness became quite forced and the plot was certainly a bit thin. If I were writing a report on it, I might say: Began with great promise but its fundamental weaknesses soom became apparent.
It’s back to obscurity for Kim Newman.

Wednesday, 22nd February .....

There are always lots of tourists in Deloraine at this time of the year. It’s hard to move in the main street with all the caravans and motor homes driving slowly through the town, looking for a parking spot or just taking in the sights. The locals get a bit anxious and it’s hard to find anyone who really welcomes them.

I noticed one 4WD outside the bank with a geocaching symbol on his spare tyre cover. It’s funny that I have just been sorting out the caches I’ll be looking for on my next excursion, and there’s a reminder on the back of someone’s vehicle. I sneaked a picture but was caught in the act.

This fellow introduced himself (Ed!) and told me he was house-sitting a place in Devonport. He and his wife Liz are very keen geocachers and were heading for Liffey Falls where one had been planted. He told me about a mega event which had been held near Wagga last year and he and Liz had picked up 317 caches in a 24-hour period. I’ll bet all the fish he catches are a metre long and all his eggs are double-yolkers.

Monday, February 20 .....

It’s not often I find a book which grabs me by the throat and impresses me as much as Moriarty - The Hound of the D’Urbervilles by Kim Newman. The eBook website I use is being inundated by the Romance genre (if I see another cover showing a burly and half-naked Lord of the Glen, I’ll vomit). Sadly, I just skip through the list and tend to watch out for authors I know and it’s rare that I open an unknown title to see if I’ll like it.

I noticed Moriarty – The Hound of the D’Urbervilles today and, as there was nothing else of interest, apart from a Bolitho novel by Alexander Kent, I downloaded it to have a look. I was trapped immediately by the pithy writing and the clever references to Sherlock Holmes. There has been a bit of a push recently to write modern novels featuring Sherlock Holmes; the Mary Russell books by Laurie R. King are the best of these. But I haven’t seen anyone focusing on Professor Moriarty until now.

Kim Newman entitles the parts of his book with names which refer to Conan Doyle stories. So, Newman’s A Volume in Vermillion obviously refers to Doyle’s A Study in Scarlet. Newman’s A Shambles in Belgravia makes you think of A Scandal in Bohemia, and The Problem of the Final Adventure refers to The Adventure of the Final Problem. Clever!

The writing is also clever and I was delighted to come across the phrase ‘cosplay protest’. When we took Madeleine to Japan in 2005, we visited Harajuku where every weekend local teenagers come together dressed in the most outlandish costumes (costume play = cosplay). Clearly a cosplay protest is when the protesters dress in costumes; in this case, they wore convict outfits with broad arrows.

I read a lot of books but I become bogged down sometimes when the language is simplistic or stilted and I have to turn to Reginald Hill or Colin Dexter, authors who treat the reader as if he has some level of intelligence. Kim Newman falls into this category.

I looked him up on the internet and he is certainly something of an oddball. He always wore a long cloak at University and belonged to something called the Sheep Worrying Theatre Company. I’m not keen on the name. It sounds a bit like a tasteless New Zealand joke and reminds me of the British Ukulele Orchestra which is touring Australia at the moment and promises its audience a ‘plucking good time’. Typical English smutty humour!

Sunday, February 19 .....

I can’t believe the fuss that everyone is making about the video of Kevin Rudd showing frustration, and expressing this in a perfectly normal way. Have we become so precious that we can’t accept that some people deal with stress by mouthing-off. Swearing is a traditional part of Australian culture. I don’t necessarily agree with it but I’ve heard worse in a primary school playground. I wish the journalists could find another bandwagon and give us a break from the interminable ‘Will he, or won’t he make a bid for the leadership?’ Tony Abbott must be thanking his lucky stars that this distraction is keeping journalists from asking the hard questions about his lack of positive policies.

After my good walk yesterday, I had a quiet day at home. I had taken my GPS with me yesterday and realised that I had come very close to a number of geocaches so I took out the folder where I keep the data on the caches and sorted out half a dozen that I will pick up on my next trip to the Gorge.

It seems I have a busy week coming up: a Giant Steps Board Meeting tomorrow night, Rotary meeting on Tuesday and Craft Fair committee meeting on Wednesday. On Tuesday, we’re meeting at the Rotary Pavilion for a barbecue. We have a couple of containers there where we store Craft Fair equipment and we’ve decided that we’ll drag it all out and do a stock-take. As you can imagine, after the Fair all we want to do is get everything out of the way and out of the weather. We always have good intentions of repacking all the gear but only get around to it every third year or so. This is to be one of those years. I have been told that one container hasn’t been opened for at least three years so it will be quite exciting to see what is stored there.

As I have said before, I don’t read the local paper very often but I happened to pick up a copy yesterday when I stopped for coffee. There was an appalling article about road-kill. Tasmania has an unenviable reputation for the amount of road kill you can find anywhere you go. I’m sure there are various reasons why it is so prevalent here but it’s not a good look for a state which sells itself as a ‘back-to-nature’ destination.

Lloyd Whish-Wilson (what a great name!) has a farm at Hillwood just up the road from us. He said in his article that he was driven to write the article after finding a fully-grown echidna squashed on the road outside his gate. What hurt him was that it was run over on the centre line so the driver must have swerved to hit it. It wasn’t an accident. Andrew has been keeping records of the animals he finds along his road frontage. In the past two years he has identified a sea eagle, two Boobook Owls, a Little Owl, Swamp Hawks, two Quolls, several bandicoots and wombats, and innumerable possums and wallabies. I didn’t keep the list so I’ve relying on memory but the rarer animals and birds stuck in my mind. Andrew believes that a fair number of the victims were run down deliberately and, if that is the case, what sort of sick individuals are we allowing to drive cars. How on earth could you hit an eagle by accident?

Saturday, February 18 .....

I needed a walk today to clear away some of the cobwebs so I packed some lunch and set off mid-morning. My destination was the Launceston Gorge which advertises itself as the most visited tourist attraction in Tasmania. Hmmm! Possibly true, but I would have thought Port Arthur might have a claim on that title.


However, it is beautiful and well worth several visits. My plan was to complete an easy walk and add on something a little harder if I felt up to it. Early in the days of the colony, a power station was built to catch the water in the South Esk River and a lot of work was done at that time to attract visitors into the area. I started walking from the beautiful Kings Bridge, along the northern side of the Gorge until I got to what is called the First Basin. The Second and Third Basins have now been inundated by Lake Trevallyn, but the First Basin is spectacular. There is a large swimming pool, beautiful lawns for picnics a suspension bridge, restaurant and cafe and a chairlift.

The chairlift claims to have the longest span of any chairlift in the world and I have no idea whether that is accurate or not. The restaurant, imaginatively called The Gorge Restaurant, is surrounded by beautiful gardens, super trees, ferns and rhododendrons. Peacocks were introduced here years ago and they still frequent the area. It’s certainly a great place to re-generate and relax.

I was impressed with a very large pine tree which seemed to have footholds cut into the trunk for the whole height of the tree. The tree was an odd pinkish colour and the foliage was a bit dry so perhaps the tree is reaching the end of its life. If so, it will be a major job to remove it safely.

One of the problems that limited access to the Gorge is that it is a very steep climb down from the carpark on the southern side – OK for young people but a bit hard for older folk to get back up to the car. But, today I discovered that the council has built an Inclinator which runs from the carpark, right down to the lowest level with three other stops in between, to give access to the cafe, toilets and the start of other tracks. Fantastic! I bumped into one of my past staff members and, like me, she was heading for the inclinator to take the easy way down.

On the way back I was surprised to find an art piece in among some big boulders. I've walked here many times but have never noticed it before. It consisted of two round stones with flat polished faces. On one was engraved the words LISTEN VII SILENT and on the other, the same words but in mirror-image. I notice that the words LISTEN and SILENT contain the same letter so perhaps there is something magical and significant about their conjunction.

Anyway, by the time I wandered around, I didn’t feel like an extended walk and was happy to get back to the car and head into town for coffee. A good day out!

Friday, February 17 .....

I’ve noticed a lot more email coming through recently. Some of it is to do with the Craft Fair, and that’s OK, but some of it’s not as welcome. Somehow, a relative of my uncle Archie has targeted me through my Facebook page and is bombarding me with invitations to join his ‘ANZ Bank pffft’ campaign or ‘I Love Drummore’ page. There’s no room in my life for those things and I don’t even know where or what Drummore is.

The other regular is Tony who is the contact for the Illawarra Poets. When I wrote my first poem, Geoff suggested I link up with his Poetry group and try out their weekly topics. I didn’t realise that Tony is a serial emailer and, when I gave him my email address, I opened the door to getting 2 or 3 emails a day from him with his thoughts (often in rhyme!) on the federal government, cures for cancer, speed cameras, same-sex marriages, etc. I’m sorry, there’s no room in my life for Tony either.

I enjoyed the program on ABC last night about Ernie Dingo. He’s always made me smile and I enjoy his zest for life. The show last night talked about his life and showed excerpts from early films and TV appearances. His first interview with Ray Martin was an eye-opener. Ernie was full of enthusiasm, and Ray was responding to that. For some reason, Ray handed Ernie a $20 note (or maybe Ernie already had it in his pocket and was flashing it around). Ernie said, ‘That’ll buy me some lunch.’ Ray interjected, ‘You won’t buy a flagon with it?’ Whoah!

If Ray Martin or somebody like him had said that today, there would have been an outcry. Ray would have lost his job and the papers would have been full of righteous indignation. But the interview was in the 80s and, apparently, racist comments like that just slipped through the net. Ray Martin is still held up as the gentleman interviewer but, even in such a controlled individual, racism wasn’t far beneath the surface.

Thursday, February 16 .....

I was hanging out the washing this morning and on the other side of the fence perhaps 20m away was a Bennet’s wallaby with a joey. The joey was about half-grown, too big to push its way into the pouch but still keen to suckle. It’s unusual to see the wallabies out in the daytime but they clearly didn’t feel threatened. The mother was aware of me and kept an eye out but it wasn’t until the joey had finished its breakfast that they moved off, back into the long grass where they seem to spend the daylight hours.

I’m having a quiet day at home. Yesterday was busy, and I didn’t get home until after 9 o’clock. I spend most of the day at Giant Steps where I had promised to do a job for Tim but at 3.15 I had to report to the start of the Grand Parade down the main street of Deloraine. It was a bit chaotic as different aspects of the march had been organised by different people and there seemed to be no-one who understood the whole concept. We were faced with 150 people, a collection of national flags, boards with the various countries’ names on them and banners, apparently made by local school children. There was a pipe band, ready to lead off.

One of our members leapt into the command role and started getting people into line long before the march was to set off. Groups of school children started to arrive and seemed to be there to carry the flags, etc. There was a real melee and doting parents and other hangers-on wanted to take pictures. Some kids knew which team they were supporting, other teams had no one at all – a bit of a mish-mash. The teams looked great. Many were in traditional blazers but New Zealand wore matching fishing gear and the team from Kiribati had wonderful little hats. I don't know the full story of the Kiribati team and don't imagine there are many trout streams on the island. All the team members had at one time been fishing guides at the Captain Cook Resort (wherever that is) and maybe have done their fresh water fishing in New Zealand.

Anyway, the teams which didn’t have children flag bearers were happy to carry their own so it was all coming together. One of the Scottish team saw a little girl, about 7 years old, standing on the footpath with her parents. ‘I want that wee gurrl’, he said to me so I scurried off to talk to her parents. The kid was delighted to get involved and she proudly led the team.

As soon as they were away, I hurried down to the riverbank to pick up my role as waiter. There were four of us listed to do the job but about 9 turned up, which was great. As the marchers arrived, they were given a free glass of wine, or beer. In fact, we had wine donated by Brown Brothers so that was free all evening. The beer was all from small local breweries and, after the first freebie, we had to charge $5 a glass. That wasn’t a worry but the idea of free wine caught the imagination and we ran out. That meant a quick trip to the pub for replenishment. It was a great night and I imagine some of the anglers will have sore heads as they go off to the rivers and lakes for the first day of competition.

Wednesday, February 15th .....

I’m at Giant Steps again. Tim, the new Principal, asked me to prepare a short survey to send out to parents. This will be the first step in a process to get a grant of $20 000 from the Federal Government. The program is called the National School Chaplains and Student Welfare Program. There are already some 1000 schools being funded under this program and another 1000 will be selected in the next round. You can do the sums: 1000 schools x $20000 x 3 years = $60 million dollars + administration costs. It’s unbelievable, what other dotty ideas can they come up with to waste money. At least we can’t blame Julia Gillard for this one; it’s a hangover from the days of John Howard. Probably part of his Back to the Fifties push.

The problem with the original program is that schools were asking for money to provide counselling services and a chaplain didn’t necessarily have those skills. So, in typical style, the government extended the program so that school could choose between a traditional chaplain and a Student Welfare Worker, then noted in the Guidelines that the roles of these two positions are identical. Ludicrous! As Shakespeare said, What’s in a name?

I turned on to an extraordinary show on ABC last night. It’s called Genius and the format is that audience members suggest bizarre ideas which are rated genius or not genius. Some of the suggestions were to standardise all Chinese menus so that #46 is always Chicken Chow Mein right across the country, or that all cars should be equipped with a wasp to make sure that the driver doesn’t fall asleep. One potential genius had worked out that, when people made their bucket lists of ten things to do before they die, swimming with dolphins and skydiving regularly appeared. To save time, he suggested that they should introduce tandem sky-diving with dolphins. He kept a perfectly straight face when the so-called judges picked holes in his idea.

Apparently, this show started on radio and came later to TV. One commentator pointed out that the only difference this made was that people could then see how mad the audience really were. I’d have to agree; they were a particularly peculiar lot, even taking into consideration that they were pommies. The best part of the show was the trio of presenter and two judges who beautifully sent up the genius wannabees.

Tuesday, February 14 .....

I was watching Q&A last night and was interested to hear the panel talk about heroes. One fellow thought that modern football heroes just didn’t cut it and hoped that kids might look a little higher for their models. Fat chance! We’ll always be impressed with the celebrities who are built up by the media, no matter how inappropriate they might be as role models.

When I was 12, my heroes were Roger Bannister and Edmund Hillary and I read all I could about their exploits. When Marilyn and I met Sir Edmund in Sydney about 1968, I was tongue-tied at the thought of shaking hands with the great man. At the time he was raising money to build schools in Nepal and I was impressed that he was putting his celebrity to good use. I suppose it’s not unlike the modern sports heroes who start a foundation to cash in on their fame for the good of people who need help. The Jane McGrath Foundation is a good example.

One of the other heroes mentioned last night on Q&A was Stephen Hawking. I would have thought he might be fairly unlikely as a hero but his name has a certain cachet and some people might think it would benefit them in some way to attach themselves to his reputation. His book, A Brief History of Time has sold squillions (1 for every 750 people in the world) and has been translated into 40 languages but I read somewhere that most people have bought it simply to be able to display it prominently in their home. Only about 5% even attempt to read it.

Well, I am now among that 5%. I’ve downloaded the book and have made my way through the first chapter. The book is only 101 pages so it’s not too onerous a read. I have already noticed that I encounter passages where I can recognise every word but struggle to attach meaning to the sentences. However, discipline is the thing and I’ll keep at it.

Sunday, February 12th .....

The fantastic Tasmanian summer continues. Some of the forecasts predicted rain for today but the sun continues to shine and the shorts and t-shirts still rule. Jamie and I had booked in to have lunch at the Windermere cafe while being serenaded by a clarinet quintet.

Kerry, the proprietor of the cafe was anxious about the weather but she needn’t have worried. She had about 20 booked in and hoped that another half-dozen might turn up ad hoc. When we arrived, the barbecue was going full blast with two big lumps of beef and a couple of pieces of pork cooking away nicely. The plan was to eat at about 1 o’clock but the meat was taken off too soon and had to be returned to the heat. No worries, and we were all happy to wait.

Eventually, we were given the nod and what a feast we had. It was very simple: roasted meat and a couple of salads, but it was a chance to meet the locals and chat about inconsequential things. As it happened, we shared a table with Reg and Sarina from Elizabeth Town near Deloraine who had been out on their Harley for the day and had popped in to the cafe for coffee. They were delighted to have live music to listen to.

The group was pretty good; there were only four of them at the beginning but another one arrived a bit late. One fellow was playing an interesting instrument which looked like a skinny saxophone. It was probably a Bass Clarinet but I’ve never seen one before.

While we were eating, an elderly gentleman wandered over to talk to Jamie. He has something to do with the publication of the local East Tamar newsletter, Smoke Signals. Long story short, Jamie is now the official distributor for Sherborne Drive. It means a walk along the length of the Drive every couple of months – not particularly onerous but all part of the rich fabric of the East Tamar community.

Saturday, February 11th .....

It was a very late night on Tuesday; the normal Rotary meeting was followed by a Board Meeting which went on until 11 o’clock. I didn’t get home to Dilston until about midnight. The Rotary meeting took the form of a Club Assembly which gives members the chance to comment or make suggestions about the running of the Club.
I raised the idea that we should, occasionally, have a poem during the meeting. I was surprised to find that at least three members write poems so it might be interesting to hear what they have to say. The president has promised to put the reading of a poem on the agenda for the next meeting so we’ll see who comes prepared. I know I will.

Next week, there’s an International Fly Fishing Championship being held here in Northern Tasmania. Apparently, there are about 150 visitors from several countries, all trying to prove how good they are. On Wednesday afternoon, there will be a Grand March down the main street of Deloraine and I have found myself nominated to help in the organisation. Following the march, the anglers will try their luck in the river before getting together for a meal in a marquee on the river bank. Our Rotary Club will be helping with the serving of food and selling drinks. It could be an interesting night.

I mentioned earlier that I’ve been picking blackberries while they are plentiful and I have frozen some, cooked some and even made blackberry jelly. Making your own jelly is a pain in the neck: it takes forever and makes an awful mess, but the result
is spectacular. For dinner tonight, Jamie produced pork steaks and the blackberry jelly was a great addition.

I stewed the berries on Thursday, put them in a strainer and left them to drip overnight and got up early to finish them off. I had promised to go down to Giant Steps but the jelly-making took longer than I thought so I was tempted not to go. However, a commitment is just that and I ended up getting there just in time for morning tea. It was just as well I went, because the staff had arranged a special morning tea to celebrate my birthday. Carol, one of the staff, is a famous cake-maker and had made a Lemon Shortcake for me. It was always a great tradition at Giant Steps to celebrate birthdays and I was tickled pink to be remembered.

There was no Friday Happy Hour at the Windermere Cafe this week; instead, there will be a Clarinet Recital on Sunday lunchtime. Marilyn is visiting her family in NSW but
Jamie and I have booked in to go. You have to make the effort to be part of the community.

Monday, February 6th .....

Part of my walk yesterday went along the levee system put in place to help control the potential floods that could hit Launceston at any time. The main bank along the North Esk River is in pretty good repair but has been cut in two or three places for a road or, in one case, a railway line. When this happens, they put in flood gates which somebody will close if flooding is expected.
This photograph shows where the railway line goes through the levee bank. I’m no engineer, but I can see that the gate won’t close because the railway line is in the way. The other thing is that the railway line is totally rusted so no trains run on it regularly. I can’t see an issue in pulling up the tracks permanently and making the gate work as it should.

Since I wrote the post yesterday about the gardens I visited, I’ve discovered more pertinent information. It’s called Glebe Gardens and was designed and constructed by a local Master-Landscaper. He began work in October, 2009 and it currently covers 6 acres, but there is room to expand. The attached nursery is run by the landscaper’s wife. I think the plan is to encourage people to visit the garden, get ideas and spend money in the Gift Shop and Nursery. I know I was impressed and could imagine myself taking out the wallet in a moment of enthusiasm. I’ve attached another couple of photographs that I took in the garden.

I heard an interview on ABC radio last week which I now see has found its way into the Weekend Australian. Leon Compton, the presenter was talking to Sam McQuestin, the Tasmanian Director of the Liberal Party, about the source of funds being used in a series of ads attacking the Labor Government. I loved the transcript of Mr McQuestin’s reply.

“Ah, well, err, the ... the money has come from ... err ... err ... from our own ... err, resources, I suppose, Leon. Err, we have a ... consistent fundraising activity, which I don’t think I’d ... I’m keen to outline, but ... that will ... err, that continues on and on, and ... as I say, given the unstable nature of ... of this ... this government ... err, we decided it was a good opportunity to ... to u-, to use some now.”

Everybody knows they’ve accepted a donation from a big tobacco company. One of the shadow ministers was on radio this morning trying to justify the acceptance of the cash and saying that corporate donors don’t expect any favours for their largesse. Are politicians that naive?

Sunday, February 5th .....

It was overcast this morning and, even though the weather forecast says it will be hot, I decide it’s a day for a walk. I might feel warm but I won’t get as sunburnt as I would on a sunny day. There’s a nice walk along the North Esk River which should suit me fine so I pack some fruit, a bottle of water and a couple of muesli bars, grab my hat and I’m off.

The walk starts at Hobler’s Bridge where I can park the car. It’s also the site of Launceston’s Sewage Farm. Every time I go past, I’m aware of a smell and a number of local residents have complained about it. There’s no smell, says the Council. Our technicians have taken measurements and have assured us that there is no smell. So there! I suppose they’ll use the same technicians to measure for what they call ‘fugitive odours’ from the new pulp mill they’re supposed to be building at Bell Bay. Say ‘there is no smell’ often enough and you might come to believe it even though everyone’s nose says something different.

I hadn’t realised that there were several options but I chose the track which headed north-west and joined up with another track which would take me close to a place to get a coffee. The track was good and took me about an hour to get to the cafe where I could have a bite to eat and head back to my starting point. There were a few people on bikes, mostly being quite neighbourly but, as I was approaching one bend, a bike with a blue-jumpered rider shot around the corner, straight towards me. “Heads up!” he yelled as if that would make a difference. I had seen him but did he expect me to jump out of his way? Sadly, my jumping days are over but, happily, he missed me.

On the way, I discovered a black rhino in the back of a truck but failed to see the big sign which told me that it was parked outside a garden which was open to the public today. I did see it on the way back and wandered in for a look. The fact that the sign said free entry today makes me think that you normally have to pay. What a place and I had no idea it even existed. It looked brand new as if someone had taken $5million a few years ago and set out to build this paradise. It turned out to be a beautiful garden with a nursery attached.
I wasn’t interested in buying a Weeping Apple tree for $88 but I did enjoy walking around the garden which was a mish-mash of English, Tropical, Thai influences.

It was easy to spend an hour wandering around and checking out the Organic Vegetable Garden, and the Frog Pond and the various statues, including a Buddha. A very good find, and I can’t understand how I’ve never heard of it.

Saturday, February 4th .....

Today was the day for Australia’s Biggest Barbecue, when Rotary clubs from all over Australia held simultaneous barbecues to draw attention to the work of Rotary in the community. Deloraine Rotary’s response was to set up a barbecue at Woolworths with sausages given away in return for a gold coin donation to aid a local charity.

By coincidence, the monthly Deloraine Market was on at the Showgrounds so we decided to set up a jumping castle there for the kids (again for a gold coin). It would have been good to have snags there too but the Market people didn’t want us competing with other food suppliers. Still, the castle was well received and we took nearly $80. It might have been more, but nobody was policing it and a lot of kids probably had a free ride. But there’s no problem with that.

Woolworths was very good, supplying the barbecue, gas and sauces. We bought the sausages and bread and did a roaring trade. At the end of the day, $220 had been donated and a lot of people had a cheap snack. The incoming president says she wants to have a barbecue once every two months, each time for a local charity. If we could make $200 each time, there would be some happy faces among our smaller charities.

I also took the chance while I was in Deloraine to set up an office in the Rotary Pavilion. I only need a table for my laptop and printer and I can pack the printer away at the end of each session. All looks good to this stage.