I've always enjoyed listening to music but the collection on my iPod is becoming a little stale so I've been looking for something new. Enter The Spooky Men's Chorale. I think they're based in Melbourne and they don't take themselves too seriously, although their music is great. I'd love to sing with a group like that.
The CD, Tooled Up, has songs like Not Pretty Enough and Ghost Riders in the Sky, but I particularly liked (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction and Vote the Bastards Out, written for the 'Not Happy, John' night at Brunswick Town Hall, October 2nd, 2004. The Spooky Theme contains the magic lines:
We Are the Spooky Men
We dream of Mastodons,
We sing in lower frequencies
And we can grow beards if we want to.
Of course, Marilyn looks at me askance when I play it. My wife doesn't understand me.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Monday, January 27th ....
I feel vaguely discontented today. You know, sometimes you wake up and you wonder what life is all about. I think I've fallen in to the trap of thinking too much about our next holiday, or getting away in the caravan, and today is just another day of marking time until that happens. I have mowing to do and I'll wash the car but I need to wait for the sun to go down a bit before I tackle those jobs.
Part of my quandary, of course, is that our feet are not firmly on the ground. We're living in someone else's house and know that in a few days time we'll be nomadic again. One part of me relishes that adventure but another part is nagging me to find a place to live and settle down.
Yesterday, I wrote a short blog which I decided not to post. I shared my concerns about the way that Australia is becoming more like America, jingoistic and patriotic to the extreme. Our national pride has become too aggressive for my liking and I shudder when I see the flag being used as a symbol in situations like the Cronulla riots or anti- immigration rallies. The Australia I like is the laconic, laid-back one where nobody thought they had anything to prove.
Now our papers are full of 'smashing the poms' at Cricket, we pick another footballer as Australian of the Year and send a team of over fifty to the Winter Olympics, all,of whom live permanently overseas. Our government will pay a female solicitor from Toorak $75000 when she has a baby, but cut the allowance of a single mum struggling to buy a uniform for her child starting school. Elitism gone mad.
I think I'll just stay home today and sulk.
Part of my quandary, of course, is that our feet are not firmly on the ground. We're living in someone else's house and know that in a few days time we'll be nomadic again. One part of me relishes that adventure but another part is nagging me to find a place to live and settle down.
Yesterday, I wrote a short blog which I decided not to post. I shared my concerns about the way that Australia is becoming more like America, jingoistic and patriotic to the extreme. Our national pride has become too aggressive for my liking and I shudder when I see the flag being used as a symbol in situations like the Cronulla riots or anti- immigration rallies. The Australia I like is the laconic, laid-back one where nobody thought they had anything to prove.
Now our papers are full of 'smashing the poms' at Cricket, we pick another footballer as Australian of the Year and send a team of over fifty to the Winter Olympics, all,of whom live permanently overseas. Our government will pay a female solicitor from Toorak $75000 when she has a baby, but cut the allowance of a single mum struggling to buy a uniform for her child starting school. Elitism gone mad.
I think I'll just stay home today and sulk.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Great thinkers have had a lot to say about good deeds over the years. From Buddha to Shakespeare to Hazrat Ali Ibn Abu-Talib A.S, everyone commends them I can't open Facebook without being encouraged to pay for someone's coffee or help them carry their parcels. St Basil (not the Fawlty Towers one) said: A good deed is never lost. He who sows courtesy, reaps friendship; he who plants kindness, gathers love; pleasure bestowed on a grateful mind was never sterile, but generally gratitude begets reward.
Well, I certainly got my reward for helping the fellow next to us to put his tent back together on Wednesday night. At 6.30 on Thursday morning, he was back knocking on the door to return the rope and tent peg I had given him, and tell me some of his life story. When I was having my lunch he was back again, with some more anecdotes about life in Deloraine. The only way to escape him was to get in the car and drive away. He certainly wouldn't take the hint that I had other things to do. Later on, I was sitting under the awning reading, when he appeared, full of wisdom and scurrilous gossip. He has a speech impediment which make him difficult to understand; he is clearly intellectually challenged and doesn't have a good thing to say about anyone. He bashed my ears for two hours in that session until Marilyn arrived in the Community Car to whisk me away to Mole Creek.
When he turned up again as we were getting dinner ready, I'd had enough, so we packed up and moved on. I'm somewhat anti-social at the best of times and I found his constant chatter, bad language and aggression too much. Is this what it's going to be like when we're on the road? My heart sinks.
Well, I certainly got my reward for helping the fellow next to us to put his tent back together on Wednesday night. At 6.30 on Thursday morning, he was back knocking on the door to return the rope and tent peg I had given him, and tell me some of his life story. When I was having my lunch he was back again, with some more anecdotes about life in Deloraine. The only way to escape him was to get in the car and drive away. He certainly wouldn't take the hint that I had other things to do. Later on, I was sitting under the awning reading, when he appeared, full of wisdom and scurrilous gossip. He has a speech impediment which make him difficult to understand; he is clearly intellectually challenged and doesn't have a good thing to say about anyone. He bashed my ears for two hours in that session until Marilyn arrived in the Community Car to whisk me away to Mole Creek.
When he turned up again as we were getting dinner ready, I'd had enough, so we packed up and moved on. I'm somewhat anti-social at the best of times and I found his constant chatter, bad language and aggression too much. Is this what it's going to be like when we're on the road? My heart sinks.
A good deed is never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/s/saintbasil395043.html#W9RoAU7u06g1xe8Y.99
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/s/saintbasil395043.html#W9RoAU7u06g1xe8Y.99
A good deed is never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/s/saintbasil395043.html#W9RoAU7u06g1xe8Y.99
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/s/saintbasil395043.html#W9RoAU7u06g1xe8Y.99
A good deed is never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/s/saintbasil395043.html#W9RoAU7u06g1xe8Y.99
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/s/saintbasil395043.html#W9RoAU7u06g1xe8Y.99
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Thursday, January 23rd ....
We've brought the van down to Deloraine for a couple of days. I had a meeting last night and Marilyn is driving the community car today, so it made sense to stay overnight in Deloraine. Opposite us is a Honda hatchback, tiny, tattered tent and a solitary chair. A fellow in a red shirt waves to us we pull in. Immediately, we start working out the scenario which brought him here: someone down on his luck, kicked out of home with just his car and the clothes he's wearing, escaping from a messy divorce, etc. Nothing as simple as just someone who enjoys the solitary life and the simple things.
When I come home from the meeting, Marilyn says that the local football team came past on a training run, laughing and joking. While we are talking, they come past again, very noisy and cheerful. Ten minutes later, there's a knock at the door. It's the man from the mini-tent, very upset. It wasn't the football team, it was a bunch of larrikins who've knocked down his tent and stolen his chair! On their first run, they'd stolen his chair so he went up the police station to complain. While he was away, they came back and destroyed his tent.
I helped him put the tent back together as best we could. It was ruined and would certainly not keep out a heavy dew, but it gave him some cover for the night. The police station was not manned so he's off again this morning to see what can be done. It's a bugger that these young ratbags can cause so much angst.
Anyway, it turns out that this fellow is Kenny Gee. I wrote about him in a previous blog when he had overstayed his welcome at the free camping area with his big van and 4WD. He was moved on eventually by the police and the council. Somehow, in the meantime, he has lost his rig and is reduced to the little tent and a swag. He tried to tell me the story but he's very difficult to understand and I missed too much of the detail. No doubt he'll be waiting for us when we get back to the 'van this evening.
When I come home from the meeting, Marilyn says that the local football team came past on a training run, laughing and joking. While we are talking, they come past again, very noisy and cheerful. Ten minutes later, there's a knock at the door. It's the man from the mini-tent, very upset. It wasn't the football team, it was a bunch of larrikins who've knocked down his tent and stolen his chair! On their first run, they'd stolen his chair so he went up the police station to complain. While he was away, they came back and destroyed his tent.
I helped him put the tent back together as best we could. It was ruined and would certainly not keep out a heavy dew, but it gave him some cover for the night. The police station was not manned so he's off again this morning to see what can be done. It's a bugger that these young ratbags can cause so much angst.
Anyway, it turns out that this fellow is Kenny Gee. I wrote about him in a previous blog when he had overstayed his welcome at the free camping area with his big van and 4WD. He was moved on eventually by the police and the council. Somehow, in the meantime, he has lost his rig and is reduced to the little tent and a swag. He tried to tell me the story but he's very difficult to understand and I missed too much of the detail. No doubt he'll be waiting for us when we get back to the 'van this evening.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Monday, January 20th ....
I've just come back from the airport, having delivered Jamie for his big trip to the Philippines. He's flying Jetstar via Darwin, which is an interesting development in international air travel. Instead of a single 9 hour flight, it can now be done in two shorter legs. Much easier.
By coincidence, Marilyn and I were at a fund-raiser yesterday for assisting the on-going relief program in the Philippines following last year's devastating typhoon. We wanted to buy a couple of shelter boxes to add to a couple we sent earlier. These boxes are fantastic. They contain a large tent, sleeping bags, cooking utensils, etc and can provide shelter for a family of 10 people. They cost about $1000 each and are now used all over the world in emergency situations. We were told yesterday that there are about 30000 families in the Philippines housed in shelter boxes.
The tongue-tied Rotarian who was explaining the Shelter box program yesterday treated us to a little bit of gratuitous racism. He said that it takes 2 Rotarians to move one box but he has seen some natives or Afghan-types carry one on their heads. Afghan-types?
There was a raffle, of course. I wish my understanding of Mathematics was better so I could explain the extraordinary results. About 500 tickets were sold and there were 20 prizes. I would have thought the chance of winning a prize was 1 in 25, pretty good odds. In fact, 5 people won 2 prizes each and one fellow won 3. We won nothing.
I was chatting with someone about Genealogy when another woman joined us. I told her what we were discussing and she apologised for butting-in, saying that she couldn't add anything to the conversation because all her family had been wiped out during World War II and there were no records or even family stories she could draw on. I felt quite embarrassed when I realised that her story is not uncommon. European Jews, descendants of American slaves and many other groups just don't have access to the sorts of records that we take for granted.
By coincidence, Marilyn and I were at a fund-raiser yesterday for assisting the on-going relief program in the Philippines following last year's devastating typhoon. We wanted to buy a couple of shelter boxes to add to a couple we sent earlier. These boxes are fantastic. They contain a large tent, sleeping bags, cooking utensils, etc and can provide shelter for a family of 10 people. They cost about $1000 each and are now used all over the world in emergency situations. We were told yesterday that there are about 30000 families in the Philippines housed in shelter boxes.
The tongue-tied Rotarian who was explaining the Shelter box program yesterday treated us to a little bit of gratuitous racism. He said that it takes 2 Rotarians to move one box but he has seen some natives or Afghan-types carry one on their heads. Afghan-types?
There was a raffle, of course. I wish my understanding of Mathematics was better so I could explain the extraordinary results. About 500 tickets were sold and there were 20 prizes. I would have thought the chance of winning a prize was 1 in 25, pretty good odds. In fact, 5 people won 2 prizes each and one fellow won 3. We won nothing.
I was chatting with someone about Genealogy when another woman joined us. I told her what we were discussing and she apologised for butting-in, saying that she couldn't add anything to the conversation because all her family had been wiped out during World War II and there were no records or even family stories she could draw on. I felt quite embarrassed when I realised that her story is not uncommon. European Jews, descendants of American slaves and many other groups just don't have access to the sorts of records that we take for granted.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Sunday, January 19th ....
I know it's been a week since my last post but life is quiet at the moment and there's not much to say. Our Premier has just announced a date for the state election so we're in that campaign period when the news is all about the nonsense that politicians save up for the campaign trail.
Tasmania, of course, is dying on its feet. There's not the leadership here to bite the bullet and build a modern economy to carry us into the future. Politicians understand they can only gain votes if they hark back to the days of high industrialisation and raping of the forests. Neither of the two major parties is brave enough to make the decisions necessary to change the outlook of the state. Labor came close through their power-sharing deal with the Greens during the current parliament. A Forestry Agreement was drawn up, tourism was promoted, big decisions were made about improving education, and so on. But, when the back is to the wall, self-interest takes over.
In preparation for the election, the Premier has 'sacked' the Green ministers, knowing that her supporters see the Greens as the enemy rather than the Liberal Party. She has also said that, in future, no deals will be made with the Greens. The Liberals are worse; they've said they will only govern if they have a majority. They've also said they will undo the advances made in re-structuring Forestry, and will review the changes made to improve education.
It's madness. A likely scenario is that neither of the two big parties will get a majority and, because of their stupidity, they have locked themselves out of power. We only have 25 seats in the Lower House, 10 Liberal, 10 ALP and 5 Greens. it's a pretty small pool and hard to form a decent Cabinet if you've only got 10 to draw on. You can be sure that 2 or 3 from each party are untalented party hacks pre-selected because nobody else showed interest. It's depressing.
Politics is the art of compromise and good politicians need to keep an open mind. The nonsense we hear that politicians can never change their minds is just that. Intelligent people change their minds all the time as new information becomes available.
Tasmania should be looking to Malta for ideas. With a population of just 400,000, Malta has an advanced economy and a high standard of living. It doesn't depend on limestone mining any more, or income from being a British naval base. It attracts 1.2 million tourists every year, and wealthy retirees from mainland Europe. It's embraced the boom in modern communication and is a haven for people who can work from anywhere. Tasmania, on the other hand, is the basket-case of Australia. Generations of poorly-educated people have learnt to be satisfied with poorly-paid jobs with no future. We have a reputation for being surly with tourists and are the butt of jokes from our cousins on the big island. Wake up, Tasmania, or you'll sink into the sea.
There was one interesting occurrence when the announcement of the election date was made on ABC TV. As the announcer was breaking the news, there was flash of bush fire information across the bottom of the screen, so the combined effect was:
Tasmanian Premier, Lara Giddings, has called a state election for March 15th. Authorities say that leaving now is the safest option.
Wonderful! Of course, the local Federal liberal politician gleefully posted it on Facebook. Silly man! Authorities are also saying that the Liberals are likely to win the election, a very good reason for leaving, if their announced policies are anything to go by.
Tasmania, of course, is dying on its feet. There's not the leadership here to bite the bullet and build a modern economy to carry us into the future. Politicians understand they can only gain votes if they hark back to the days of high industrialisation and raping of the forests. Neither of the two major parties is brave enough to make the decisions necessary to change the outlook of the state. Labor came close through their power-sharing deal with the Greens during the current parliament. A Forestry Agreement was drawn up, tourism was promoted, big decisions were made about improving education, and so on. But, when the back is to the wall, self-interest takes over.
In preparation for the election, the Premier has 'sacked' the Green ministers, knowing that her supporters see the Greens as the enemy rather than the Liberal Party. She has also said that, in future, no deals will be made with the Greens. The Liberals are worse; they've said they will only govern if they have a majority. They've also said they will undo the advances made in re-structuring Forestry, and will review the changes made to improve education.
It's madness. A likely scenario is that neither of the two big parties will get a majority and, because of their stupidity, they have locked themselves out of power. We only have 25 seats in the Lower House, 10 Liberal, 10 ALP and 5 Greens. it's a pretty small pool and hard to form a decent Cabinet if you've only got 10 to draw on. You can be sure that 2 or 3 from each party are untalented party hacks pre-selected because nobody else showed interest. It's depressing.
Politics is the art of compromise and good politicians need to keep an open mind. The nonsense we hear that politicians can never change their minds is just that. Intelligent people change their minds all the time as new information becomes available.
Tasmania should be looking to Malta for ideas. With a population of just 400,000, Malta has an advanced economy and a high standard of living. It doesn't depend on limestone mining any more, or income from being a British naval base. It attracts 1.2 million tourists every year, and wealthy retirees from mainland Europe. It's embraced the boom in modern communication and is a haven for people who can work from anywhere. Tasmania, on the other hand, is the basket-case of Australia. Generations of poorly-educated people have learnt to be satisfied with poorly-paid jobs with no future. We have a reputation for being surly with tourists and are the butt of jokes from our cousins on the big island. Wake up, Tasmania, or you'll sink into the sea.
There was one interesting occurrence when the announcement of the election date was made on ABC TV. As the announcer was breaking the news, there was flash of bush fire information across the bottom of the screen, so the combined effect was:
Tasmanian Premier, Lara Giddings, has called a state election for March 15th. Authorities say that leaving now is the safest option.
Wonderful! Of course, the local Federal liberal politician gleefully posted it on Facebook. Silly man! Authorities are also saying that the Liberals are likely to win the election, a very good reason for leaving, if their announced policies are anything to go by.
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Sunday, January 12th ....
Today has lived up to its name in Launceston: the sun is shining and there's a feeling of lethargy in the air. We know we should be stirring ourselves to do something but we've lost enthusiasm for shopping and picnics and the other things we used to indulge in.
I've revisited my family research, trying to put the various branches into a format which is more accessible. In the thrill of the search, I tend to gather peripheral information which really doesn't add to the picture of what influences have made me the person I am. I come from people who worked in the coal mines, and in the great weaving mills of the 19th century, or were fisherman in the North Sea. Although I am proud of my Scottish heritage, there's an awful lot of Irish in my ancestors and I like to think there must be some Viking blood there as well.
I find it interesting to know that a remote descendant of one of my ancestors was went to America and became a Mormon, or another died in a shipwreck near Wollongong, even though they have not been directly involved in my background. It's all part of the big picture of how Scots have made their marks in the broad history of the world.
I have made contact with many other people world-wide who share parts of my ancestry, the most recent being Caroline Whitehall who is descended from George Howie, my grandmother's brother. It's been fascinating to look at her photos and hear her stories of people who shared a childhood with members of my family. Over the next few months I hope we can tease out a bit more of the picture of life in Scotland in the early part of the 20th century.
I've revisited my family research, trying to put the various branches into a format which is more accessible. In the thrill of the search, I tend to gather peripheral information which really doesn't add to the picture of what influences have made me the person I am. I come from people who worked in the coal mines, and in the great weaving mills of the 19th century, or were fisherman in the North Sea. Although I am proud of my Scottish heritage, there's an awful lot of Irish in my ancestors and I like to think there must be some Viking blood there as well.
I find it interesting to know that a remote descendant of one of my ancestors was went to America and became a Mormon, or another died in a shipwreck near Wollongong, even though they have not been directly involved in my background. It's all part of the big picture of how Scots have made their marks in the broad history of the world.
I have made contact with many other people world-wide who share parts of my ancestry, the most recent being Caroline Whitehall who is descended from George Howie, my grandmother's brother. It's been fascinating to look at her photos and hear her stories of people who shared a childhood with members of my family. Over the next few months I hope we can tease out a bit more of the picture of life in Scotland in the early part of the 20th century.
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Friday, January 10th ....
I missed the One to One interview with Geoffrey Rush where he talked about his new film, The Book Thief, but I did see a snippet where he talked about how so many Germans were taken in by the rhetoric of Adolf Hitler in the 1930s. He claimed that only 8% of Germans maintained a moral stand and refused to join the Nazi Party and/or take part in the atrocities.
That's extraordinary, that a whole population of ordinary people could be so influenced by their leader that they set aside their ethics and supported attacks on Jews, homosexuals, gypsies, the disabled and other minorities which led to concentration camps and, eventually, places like Auschwitz where millions were murdered.
The first concentration camp, Dachau, was opened in 1933, and its inmates were political prisoners, communists, trade union leaders and other 'enemies of the state'. The relentless propaganda machine was so effective that there was little outcry. By 1942, the first death camps were built, for Jews, gypsies and other 'defectives'. Again, there was no difficulty in staffing these places.
Sadly, we don't learn from history. The same propaganda techniques which make ordinary, decent people set aside their innate morality have been used in Japan in the 1930’s, the United States in the McCarthy era, Kosovo in the 1990's, Africa throughout history and innumerable other cases.
An unscrupulous leader identifies a common enemy and uses rhetoric and the mass media to build up fear and resentment among the population. Whether it is blaming the Jews for all the problems of the world, or the communists, or the other tribe over the hill, when the fear becomes intense enough, people will have no trouble accepting that killing is a solution.
And it continues to happen today. Our targets now include Muslims and Asylum Seekers. The use of the techniques applied to make us see them as dangerous is there for all to see. The rantings of Alan Jones and the Government's use of derogatory terms such as 'illegal immigrants' and 'detainees' paints as black a picture as possible. Our favourite ally has Guantanamo Bay and we have concentration camps too. How can we claim to be a civilized society?
That's extraordinary, that a whole population of ordinary people could be so influenced by their leader that they set aside their ethics and supported attacks on Jews, homosexuals, gypsies, the disabled and other minorities which led to concentration camps and, eventually, places like Auschwitz where millions were murdered.
The first concentration camp, Dachau, was opened in 1933, and its inmates were political prisoners, communists, trade union leaders and other 'enemies of the state'. The relentless propaganda machine was so effective that there was little outcry. By 1942, the first death camps were built, for Jews, gypsies and other 'defectives'. Again, there was no difficulty in staffing these places.
Sadly, we don't learn from history. The same propaganda techniques which make ordinary, decent people set aside their innate morality have been used in Japan in the 1930’s, the United States in the McCarthy era, Kosovo in the 1990's, Africa throughout history and innumerable other cases.
An unscrupulous leader identifies a common enemy and uses rhetoric and the mass media to build up fear and resentment among the population. Whether it is blaming the Jews for all the problems of the world, or the communists, or the other tribe over the hill, when the fear becomes intense enough, people will have no trouble accepting that killing is a solution.
And it continues to happen today. Our targets now include Muslims and Asylum Seekers. The use of the techniques applied to make us see them as dangerous is there for all to see. The rantings of Alan Jones and the Government's use of derogatory terms such as 'illegal immigrants' and 'detainees' paints as black a picture as possible. Our favourite ally has Guantanamo Bay and we have concentration camps too. How can we claim to be a civilized society?
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Wednesday, January 8th ....
It's our 48th wedding anniversary today and I find it hard to get my head around that idea. It's inconceivable to me that we have reached this milestone and it is wonderful that we are both well and looking forward to many more years together. I know it's not unusual for marriages to last that long but I wonder whether this is going to continue. Are we the last generation to make long-term commitments? When I read about the marriage failure rate among people today, I despair.
Although our natural instinct is to look to the future, it's hard not to look back at all that has happened in the past (almost) half-century and make some resolutions. In our careers we worked closely with young people and, inevitably, they often took priority over our own needs. Since retirement, we've continued to involve ourselves in helping others: Rotary, community car, baby-sitting, etc, but It's now time to find a bit of room for ourselves. I don't want to sound self-centred, but too often in the past we've neglected each other and we now want to work on strengthening our relationship.
The caravan is a great place to do this. You can't help get closer when you live in a little box only 19 feet long, and when you have to share every moment together. We know that we're suited to this lifestyle and often look back on previous trips with nostalgia. I mentioned before that leaving our flat in Deloraine was a liberating experience; leaving all our accumulated 'stuff' in storage while we drive away with little more than a change of underwear is even more liberating.
Roll on the day!
Although our natural instinct is to look to the future, it's hard not to look back at all that has happened in the past (almost) half-century and make some resolutions. In our careers we worked closely with young people and, inevitably, they often took priority over our own needs. Since retirement, we've continued to involve ourselves in helping others: Rotary, community car, baby-sitting, etc, but It's now time to find a bit of room for ourselves. I don't want to sound self-centred, but too often in the past we've neglected each other and we now want to work on strengthening our relationship.
The caravan is a great place to do this. You can't help get closer when you live in a little box only 19 feet long, and when you have to share every moment together. We know that we're suited to this lifestyle and often look back on previous trips with nostalgia. I mentioned before that leaving our flat in Deloraine was a liberating experience; leaving all our accumulated 'stuff' in storage while we drive away with little more than a change of underwear is even more liberating.
Roll on the day!
Tuesday, January, 7th ....
I was sad to hear that Phil Everley has died. He and his brother, Don, were so much part of our teenage lives and their music influenced so many other musicians, including The Beatles. The first record I ever bought was the Everley Brothers' All I Have to do is Dream.
Great excitement in the Test Cricket! Five-nil over the old enemy and a great start to the New Year. I'd lost interest in cricket over the past few years but we now have another moustachioed fast bowler and a keeper who can get runs, and a team who can catch. What joy! All I would hope for is a bit more sportsmanship and a lot less sledging.
I took delivery of our new car on Friday and it's having the heavy-duty towbar fitted tomorrow. We can't wait to get the caravan hitched up and hit the road. We just have to work out what to do with our cat. With Jamie away and Madi and Josh having two dogs, CB will have to be on the road with us. Other people travel with their pets so we should be able to do the same. Currently our thinking is to put her in a tent for the night. During the day, she'll be happy to share the caravan with us, but she can have her own space at night.
Great excitement in the Test Cricket! Five-nil over the old enemy and a great start to the New Year. I'd lost interest in cricket over the past few years but we now have another moustachioed fast bowler and a keeper who can get runs, and a team who can catch. What joy! All I would hope for is a bit more sportsmanship and a lot less sledging.
I took delivery of our new car on Friday and it's having the heavy-duty towbar fitted tomorrow. We can't wait to get the caravan hitched up and hit the road. We just have to work out what to do with our cat. With Jamie away and Madi and Josh having two dogs, CB will have to be on the road with us. Other people travel with their pets so we should be able to do the same. Currently our thinking is to put her in a tent for the night. During the day, she'll be happy to share the caravan with us, but she can have her own space at night.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Our day of rest didn't eventuate. The rain eased off and we decided we needed to catch up with some gardening at Dilston. During the time we were away in Deloraine, the grass grew and grew to the point where a slasher was needed to get it under control. The job now is to rake up the cut grass, mow where we can and whipper-snip where we can't.
For the first time since moving to Dilston, we had the delight of hearing cicadas in the eucalypts. It seems there are 8 species of this creature in Tasmania, several of which are exclusive to this state. The most interesting of these is the hairy cicada. What a glorious thing to discover on the first day of a new year! An ancient species with an evocative name.
Madi tells me that the local birds have been feasting on the poor cicadas and, while we were raking up grass today we noticed masses of silvery wings obviously spat out by over-full magpies.
The whole episode brought back memories of hot childhood summers in Wollongong and the incessant noise of the cicadas, walking under the gum trees and being rained on by the water excreted by the beasts. We looked for green grocers and floury bakers and the rare black princes, which we firmly believed were sought after by some laboratory in Sydney which would pay us if we could collect a boxful. Ah, the innocence of youth!
For the first time since moving to Dilston, we had the delight of hearing cicadas in the eucalypts. It seems there are 8 species of this creature in Tasmania, several of which are exclusive to this state. The most interesting of these is the hairy cicada. What a glorious thing to discover on the first day of a new year! An ancient species with an evocative name.
Madi tells me that the local birds have been feasting on the poor cicadas and, while we were raking up grass today we noticed masses of silvery wings obviously spat out by over-full magpies.
The whole episode brought back memories of hot childhood summers in Wollongong and the incessant noise of the cicadas, walking under the gum trees and being rained on by the water excreted by the beasts. We looked for green grocers and floury bakers and the rare black princes, which we firmly believed were sought after by some laboratory in Sydney which would pay us if we could collect a boxful. Ah, the innocence of youth!
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