Wednesday, March 30th

We seem to be having a quiet day at home today.  I popped in to the library this morning to drop off some DVDs and we're now involved in a cooking binge.  Jamie and Nera bought half a pig from the local farm butcher and we're doing what we can with our share.  Pork is not our favourite meat, by any means, but we can't turn our nose up at a cheap meal.  Apparently, the poor deceased pig was a female so the meat will be better-flavoured and less smelly.  Sounds like an urban myth to me.  It reminds me of our friend, Robyn's, mother who always asked for a left leg of lamb because she believed it tasted better - something to do with walking around hillsides all day, with one leg lower down the hill than the other.  I suppose it depended on whether the sheep walked clockwise or anti-clockwise.

Anyway, the chopped up pig arrived on the weekend Jamie and Nera were in Melbourne so their lodger shoved the pieces randomly in plastic bags and dumped the lot in the freezer.  Nera has to reach in and take pot luck with what she gets.  I sliced up a couple of chops the other day and made a casserole in the slow cooker;  we had Korma Pork yesterday and today we are making Sweet and Sour Pork and Pork Stirfry.

Nera, of course, is in heaven.  Pork is the favourite meat in the Philippines and she'll happily eat it for every meal.  They don't eat much beef (it's likely to be water buffalo) and they don't like the smell of lamb so pork and chicken are usually the main menu items.  I think we're spoiled in Australia with some of the world's best beef and lamb but for the next few weeks it'll be pork and pork again.

Thursday, March 24th (2)

So we have an election coming up!  I know it's a legal process under the constitution but it strikes me there's a smell about the whole thing.  First, the whole thing is very contrived: to rort the system in the hope that the Senate will vote in legislation (which they've already rejected), for fear of losing their jobs.  (I think that's called blackmail). And the trigger they choose is an issue they refused to vote on at the end of the last Parliamentary sitting.  I'm sorry, Mr Turnbull, you've dropped in my estimation.

It wasn't helped by the gist of your speech last night to the Lowy Institute.  To equate the tragedy in  Belgium with the mass migration in Europe is a low act.  The terrorists in Belgium, and in France before that, were not migrants; they are all home-grown.  As the Belgium ambassador said, 'They are Europeans.'  Clearly your need to keep the conservatives under your wing has made you compromise your beliefs, and it does you no credit.

On the issue of changes to Senate voting:  of course, we all agree that something needed to be done but an inclusive leader would have set up the changes to take effect from the next scheduled Senate election.  To tie them to a double dissolution is an act of weakness.  Your job, as PM, is to deal with the parliament you were given.  How many Prime Ministers get the Senate they want?  The effect of this DD is that many legally-elected representatives of both houses will lose their jobs.  Have you considered that maybe the new members might be more recalcitrant than the ones who leave?  Have you wondered whether you can trust your own constituency to pre-select candidates who will think more like you?  You can be sure that you'll still have Mr Abbott and Mr Abetz and Ms Jacquie Lambie.  Is it worth it?  Maybe you might also consider that the Senate could be rejecting your policies because they think they are unreasonable, not because they're being obstructive.

I read an article in The Australian the other day which reported that Mr Abbott had been appointed Prime Minister at Large.  My jaw dropped and I was half-way through before I twigged that it was a joke.  What a relief!

Thursday, March 24th

I looked up the poem that was quoted by Dick Adams the other day and it's worth recording, so here it is:

At suburban railway stations--you may see them as you pass--
there are signboards on the platform saying 'Wait here second class,'
And to me the whirr and thunder and the cluck of running-gear
Seem to be forever saying 'Second class wait here--
Wait here second class
Second class wait here.'

Seem to be forever saying, 'Second class wait here.'
Yes, the second class were waiting in the days of serf and prince,
And the second class are waiting--they've been waiting ever since,
There are gardens in the background, and the line is bare and drear,
Yet they wait beneath a signboard, sneering 'Second class wait here.'

I have waited oft in winter, in the mornings dark and damp,
When the asphalt platform glistened underneath the lonely lamp,
Glistened on the brick-faced cutting 'Sellum's Soap' and 'Blower's Beer,'
Glistened on enamelled signboards with their 'Second class wait here.'

And the others seemed like burglars, slouched and muffled to the throats,
Standing round apart and silent in their shoddy overcoats;
And the wind among the poplars, and the wires that thread the air,
Seemed to be forever snarling, snarling 'Second class wait there.'

Out beyond a further suburb, 'neath a chimney-stack alone
Lay the works of Grinder Brothers, with a platform of their own;
And I waited there and suffered, waited there for many a day,
Slaved beneath a phantom signboard, telling all my hopes to stay.

Ah! a man must feel revengeful for a boyhood such as mine.
God! I hate the very houses near the workshop by the line;
And the smell of railway stations, and the roar of running gear,
And the scornful-seeming signboards, saying 'Second class wait here.'

There's a train, with Death for driver, that is ever going past;
There will be no class compartments when it's 'all aboard' at last
For the long white jasper platform with an Eden in the rear;
And there won't be any signboards, saying 'Second class wait here' 

Sunday, March 20th

It's a very interesting weekend here in Launceston; we're enjoying the Tamar Valley Writers Festival.  Marilyn and I have never been involved in one of these before but we read a lot so thought it might be interesting to see what writers are like in the flesh.

On Friday, we were in the audience for the recording of an episode of Conversations with Richard Fidler. This local radio show is one of our favourites and I download the podcasts so we can listen in the car.  On Friday, Richard was interviewing Dick Adams who was a Federal Labor MP for twenty years.  Dick is a very large man so the unkind call him Biggus Dickus after the Monty Python character.  It's fair to say his size works against him and he is a bit of a figure of fun.  However, he is certainly a conviction politician, totally focused on what he calls the Second Class.  He read a few lines from a Henry Lawson poem about the NSW Railways in the 19th century called Second Class Wait Here.  As he said, they're still waiting.

Yesterday we sat through a session with three crime writers: Michael Robotham, Gideon Haigh (more famous for his cricket books) and SJ Brown, a new Tasmanian writer.  It was fantastic, especially as we bumped into a very good friend from our days at Friends School.  We were very friendly with her family when she was a teenager but she is now 50!

We bought SJ Brown's first book, set in Tasmania.  It's great and full of Tasmanian references.  Maybe, he tries to be a bit clever dropping in esoteric references.  These are OK if you get them.  I 'got' the reference to the Timsons and the Molloys in Rumpole of the Bailey but am flummoxed by, 'My name is Zoe, as in David.'  Huh?

However, I will happily recommend him.

Sunday, March 13th

I notice that we are in Ant-Racism Week or something like that.  I wonder what the purpose of these 'weeks' is.  Do they really make a difference or are they just there to make people feel better about their own beliefs and give them a platform to attack the rest of us.  I imagine the government has set aside several million dollars to ;'celebrate' the week.  Could they do anything else?  If they said that money is tight and we can't afford it, they would be accused of being tolerant of racism.  How can they win?

Anyway, I would like to draw the Anti-Racism Committee's attention to several examples  of blatant racism I experienced this week.  First, on The Chase there was a question about Scotland.  Andrew Whatsisname couldn't resist the opportunity to trot out his appalling mock Scottish accent.  Racism!  Later, Adam Hills made a comment on his show about stupid Irish drunks.  Racist stereotyping.  And again, some sports commentator talked about a NZ team coming 'across the dutch' for a game.

Are Celtic people exempt from anti-racism?  And people from India?  Goodness, gracious me!  Why is it OK to have a shot at someone from these countries but not about someone from another?  They oughta do something about it.

Marilyn and I have just received invitations in the mail to work at the forthcoming election?  Hmmm!  Is there something they know that we don't?  If the election is to be held in August/September, it seems a bit early to appoint staff.  Maybe July is the go.

Friday, March 11th

There are a couple of quotes from TV which I want to write down before I forget them.  The first was on Clark and Dawes last night, when they did a spoof interview with Christopher Pyne.  'Christopher' couldn't answer a couple of questions and promised to find out the answers.  'What is Greg Hunt's job?' and 'What is the purpose of the Government?'

Alan Alda might be able to answer the second question.  On ABC Breakfast this morning he commented that he had once been asked to stand for a seat in the US Senate.  'I wouldn't know how to do it', he said.  'But you would get elected,' was the answer.  

So, is the point of government just to get elected?  John Howard might believe that.  He said on SkyNews this morning that the most important thing at the moment is to get the Turnbull Government re-elected.  Is he for real?  I imagine the 550 men who have just lost their jobs at the Nickel Refinery in Townsville might have some other priorities.  Or the people who have been ripped off my Comminsure. 

Thursday, March 10th

Well, I unpacked the components of the new trailer full of confidence.  How hard could it be - it's just a box with a couple of wheels and a bar to connect to the mower.  There were 2 wheels and various lumps of metal ... and no instructions.  My confidence took a nosedive.

There was a packing slip which had a list of components with a hand-drawn exploded diagram which was of no help whatsoever, especially when components had names such as Fix Tow and Active Tow, and Stopper Pole.  Anyway, after a couple of false starts, I got it all together and only had two small rubber blocks left over.  They weren't on the diagram and had no apparent purpose so I think they must have been gifts with purchase.

Now the hard work starts.

Wednesday, March 9th

I came across the best airline sale I've ever seen yesterday.  The surprising thing is that it popped up at just the right time for us.  We have booked our international flights to the Philippines but hadn't got around to the internal flights we need: Manila to Naga return, probably twice.  These flights usually come in at about $170 return, so close to $700 altogether.

Cebu Pacific are now advertising their Piso Sale, where they offer domestic flights for 1 peso.  Of course, you need to add taxes, airport fees, web booking fee, etc so it sounds like a con but we had a look anyway.  And it was genuine: we managed to book our flights for a total of $173, less than $22 per flight.  We're also looking at having a week in Borneo for a break, at a cost of $90 for the fares.  We will be in the Philippines for 63 days so we reckon we'll be looking for a change of scene somewhere in the middle of that time.

We'll be flying with Cebu Pacific for the whole trip so we might gather quite a few Frequent Flyer points.  

I bought the trailer for our tractor mower yesterday but, of course, it came in three boxes of bits.  Time to harness my handyman skills and put it together.  It's quite a large beast so I'll need to clear the table in the shed so I can work at a reasonable level.  I'm past the days when I could construct a piece of Ikea furniture or the like on the floor.

Tuesday, March 8th

Our house looks like a Chinese laundry at the moment.  Madeleine has started to collect baby's clothes, and her family in Queensland sent her a parcel with some hand-me-downs.  Marilyn, of course, volunteered to wash them, as well as cot and bassinet sheets, etc.  Also, she took all of Madeleine's jumpers to get them ready for the winter,

On cue the weather changed and it has been cool and drizzly so the wet clothes have been spread all over the house.  

Today, we're heading in to town.  I want to buy a trailer for the tractor mower.  I've been digging up rocks for the past couple of weeks, using a heavy fire-fighting hoe and a bar.  It's hard physical work and I've been taking it slowly, not wanting to suffer another pinched nerve in my back like last year.  Getting the rocks out is one thing but moving them to a pile is another.  The barrow is too hard so I imagine a little trailer on the back of the mower will do the trick, as well as helping me to move the dirt I need to fill in the holes.  Oh, the life of a farmer!

Monday, March 6th

We were reminded again yesterday that we share our address with various wild beasts.  During breakfast, Marilyn let out a scream when she saw a furry shape scurrying across the kitchen floor.  One of the cats showed some interest but was too slow.  It disappeared under the bed.  We chucked the other cat into the room to do its bit but there was no real enthusiasm to earn their keep and the little ball of fur made a break for freedom.

I had enough time to note that it was a Marsupial Mouse, before it took refuge behind the dishwasher,  The two cats sighed with relief and went back to their snooze.  While we were watching TV in the evening, it came out from its hiding place and hurried into the laundry.  I opened the back door and it rushed outside.  A happy ending, at least.

I checked the internet and found it is an interesting animal.  Normal lifespan is about 32 weeks and they mate in the winter.  Their mating habits have scientists is a tizz.  Apparently, they copulate for up to 14 hours and then the males all die (of exhaustion?).   Maybe the mouse was in our house trying to avoid the stresses of living up to the expectations of his race.

Sunday, March 6th

The Ulysses Motorcycle Club is having its AGM in Launceston this week.  All the members are over forty and you're more likely to see their wives riding pillion rather the bikie chicks who ride with the Bandidos.  Apparently, there were about 2400 in the cohort, most of them camping at one of the local football fields.  Yesterday morning, there was a Grand Parade through the town so, because we're starved for entertainment in Launceston, we turned out at 8 o'clock to watch them.  We were lucky enough to find a table in MacDonalds overlooking the main street so were able to fortify ourselves with coffee while enjoying the spectacle.

Some of the machines are fantastic - three wheelers of all kinds, Honda Gullwings, Harley soft-tails, BMWs and so on.  There were one or two scooters hiding their blushes and the occasional fixer-upper, but the vast majority were gleaming with chrome and reeking of money.  The organisers claim there were $14 000 000 worth of machine there.  Still, riding a $15000 bike didn't hide the fact that many of the riders were overweight, retired, middle-aged men with their equally chubby and middle-aged wives behind, trying to re-capture their exciting youth.

The Ulysses Club is also one of the last bastions of male supremacy.  Every one of the bikes we saw with a pillion passenger had the man driving and the woman hanging on.  Not one had a female driver with a male passenger.  And we didn't notice any dykes with bikes either.  Maybe they were all in Sydney for the Mardi Gras

Friday, March 4

We had a quick trip to Hobart last night.  Jamie and Nera have met a young filipina who has only been in Tasmania for a few days.  She is employed by a local physiotherapist on a 457 visa and, before she can start work, she needs to have an authority from the Registration Board and it must be collected in person.  Without transport and because of the appalling lack of public transport in Tasmania, she intended to take a taxi - for a 450km round-trip!

So we found ourselves loading up the car and rushing down the highway to be there before 5 o'clock.  On the way, we found out a little more about her situation.  Before, she arrived, she checked the internet for accommodation and found a room in a shared house.  She was asked for $150 to 'hold' the room, and a 4-week bond, plus four weeks in advance.  When she arrived, she was also told there was a $20 monthly fee for the internet, $5 per week for toilet paper and $1 per squeeze for dishwashing liquid.  The house was occupied by a divorced man and his 21 year-old, biker son.  They happily took her money and offered no receipts.  She was told that, if she changed her mind, nothing was refundable.

Of course, alarm bells started to ring so she has moved in with Jamie and Nera today.  She is uncomfortable about causing a fuss so is chalking it up to experience.  It leaves a nasty taste in your mouth when you see how young, vulnerable people in our country can be so ripped off.  

Long story short, we arrived in time, collected the paperwork, had fish and chips at Mures on Constitution Dock and were home by 9.30, exhausted.

Wednesday, March 2nd

I'm having withdrawal symptoms: for the past three days, the ABC morning show has been hijacked by the interviewing of Cardinal Pell.  I have to say, he's no substitute for Virginia!  What a mind-numbing event.  I feel for the Counsel asking the questions.  How can she maintain any enthusiasm for going to work in the morning if all she can look forward to is asking tedious questions.  The Chairman, too, is having trouble hiding his boredom.  I wouldn't be surprised if he has an ipod under his jacket and he is listening to heavy metal music.

I can't feel any sympathy for Cardinal Pell at all.  He seems to lack all shred of humanity.  He is robotic and his body language oozes resentment.  He is certainly having trouble hiding his resentment and having to subject himself to this questioning.  How dare anyone suggest he may have done something wrong.

When you see stock footage of his doing his Archbishop thing, walking down the aisle with his mitre and crook, his body language, again, is odd.  Instead of being upbeat, he seems bored and reluctant.  I would have thought a person in his position would try to be joyful, to encourage others to feel a welcome part of his church.  Instead he is cold and distant.  Does he see himself as so far above others he doesn't have to relate to them?

One thing I noticed is that he is wearing his Order of Australia medal in full view.  Maybe someone has advised him that this will remind us, subconsciously, that he deserves our respect.

I'm amazed at the number of child abusers who are being winkled out of the woodwork.  In 23 years as Principal, I never had to deal with a teacher in that situation.  One teacher I taught with at Trinity was charged years later at another school, and a teacher who was at Gib Gate before my time got into trouble in Toowoomba.  I dobbed in a parent once after a complaint but that was it.  Maybe I was lucky.  What worries me now is that male teachers are very vulnerable.  If a disgruntled child makes an accusation, the teacher's career is ruined.  There is no assumption of innocence in these cases.  Principals are told to assume the child is telling the truth.  I'm glad I'm out of it.