Wednesday, June 1

Terrible news yesterday that a small plane with 22 passengers is missing.  This is not unusual and I would not normally have focused on it, but this particular situation has a personal connection.  The plane was flying from Pokhara in Nepal to Jomsom in the Annapurna region.  Marilyn and I took that same flight in 2010 and I remember we were shocked to see the piles of wrecked planes at the ends of the runways.  

Jomson Airport is over-shadowed by mountains, Dhaulagiri and Nilgiri, both over 8000m high and the air is so thin, planes can only fly in the mornings.  We knew at the time we were taking a risk but were so excited to be in the Himalayas at last, we didn't give it a second thought.

As expected, Mr Albanese's acceptance speech made promises that he would make sure politics in Australia would be done differently.  Immediately, an article appeared on the Crikey website quoting Professor Ariadne Vromen from ANU, suggesting four ways immediate improvements could be made.  They are:

1. Online petitions (using the 'gold standard' set by the Scottish Parliament)

2. Town hall meetings like those initiated by Cathy McGowan in the lead up to the 2010 election.

3. Citizens' assemblies

4. Advocacy and Transparency (from groups such as Australian Council of Social Services and Vinnies)

Do it now, Albo!  Make an announcment immediately to show that you are serious.

As a footnote: I wonder if Anthony Albanese is the first Australian Prime Minister to quote Billy Bragg.  In his announcement last night of his new cabinet he used these words: "Just because you're going forward, doesn't mean I'm going backwards."  Good stuff! We don't hear enough of Billy Bragg.

Tuesday, May 31

Marilyn's not working today so I won't be home alone.  I'd always thought I was pretty self-contained and the hermit lifestyle would suit me pretty well, but it's not true.  I slump in my chair, turn on the TV and vegetate until hunger forces me to think about making a decision about food.   I think about my friends who have recently lost their partners and my heart goes out to them even more.

I've talked about our friend whose husband now needs aged care and how she is looking for a place for him.  Currently, he is in hospital  being looked after until a bed is found in a home.  Maree has been visiting him regularly but, now Covid has been found in his ward and it has been closed. So, no visitors.

Marilyn will ring her this morning and invite her to have lunch with us.  I've said it before, it's a bugger getting old.

I've just been watching Peter Dutton being interviewed on ABC. He's been very critical of the ABC in the past and it was interesting to watch him squirm when Lisa asked him questions and he had to resist biting her head off.  You have to wish him well for accepting the poisoned chalice but he has a long way to go before his image is suitably softened. 

It must be difficult for politicians whose very existence depends on denigrating the opposition and who then find themselves in a position when cooperation is the best way to go.  Shakespeare got it right:  politics is 'all sound and fury, signifying nothing'.

Monday, May 30

After the story of the 3-year-old child who had been left all day on a bus  outside her child-care centre, one newspaper reports that there have been at least 68 similar incidents in the past five years.  It's terrifying and, clearly, we might expect more in the future.

In about 1976, when I was working at Friends Junior School in Hobart, I received a 'phone call just after school closed asking if I would drive the school bus that afternoon to take a group of children back to Kingston, south of the city.  The normal driver had called in sick and I was the only member of staff who had the appropriate licence.

I turned up to the Senior School where the bus parked and asked for a list of the children.  There was no list, nor a map of the route; the usual driver knew where all the kids went and, anyway, the older children looked after the younger ones.  There was a mixture of ages, from 3 years to about 13.

We set off and everything went smoothly.  The last boy to be dropped off was eager to show me the way and I was soon on my way back up the highway.  When I arrived back, I checked the bus for rubbish and found a small child asleep on the back seat.  It could have been disastrous but the parents had already been on the 'phone asking where she was and I was soon back on the road to take her home.

Luckily, the situation never arose again but I was adamant that I would never do a similar trip without a map and a list that I could tick off.

CORRECTION: In a recent post I suggested we have been in this unit for 33 months; f course, it's only 21.  Old age, I think.

Sunday, May 29

The weather's not wonderful here in Longford today so we'll probably spend the day at home.  Marilyn certainly needs a break as she's worked 6 days in the last 8.  I remind her that she's a Senior Citizen but that's not accepted very well. She caught up with the housework yesterday so we might be able to enjoy a day of reading and relaxing.

I have some writing I want to catch up on too, and will appreciate the time to sort out my thoughts.

Saturday, May 28

I don't think I'll be invited back to the election count in four years.  Yesterday, for the second time I exposed a weakness in the OHS procedures of the local counting station.  After my fall on Saturday night, there was a meeting of the bosses and they talked about what needed to be done to ensure it never happened again.  Security guards were employed to walk people to their cars and various staff members were given important titles like 'Venue Co-ordinator', 'Head of Security', 'OHS co-ordinator' and so on. They were reassured that they would be more than ready for the next incident.

Marilyn and I are in different teams at the centre with a screen between us.  My team is just 4 people and a supervisor, identifiable by his yellow vest.  Mid-afternoon, my supervisor told us we were going to a different building to start working on the Senate papers.  It was out the door, along an alleyway and up the hill a bit.   An hour or two later, Marilyn decided to have a coffee and came looking for me, but I was missing.

She spoke to her supervisor, to the Head of Security and the OHS co-ordinator and, like Sergeant Schulz, they knew nothing.  There was mild panic: all the toilets were checked in case I was incapacitated and, eventually, somebody suggested they were not dealing with a single missing person and that the whole team was missing.  Perhaps, they had gone up the hill.  So, I was found.

So there will be another re-write of the procedures. Perhaps heads will roll.

Friday, May 27

Marilyn and I are both working today and it's always a bit of a rush to get out of the door in the morning.  I've had a quick look at the news headlines and it's mostly about this latest school shooting in America.  What a sick society it is!  The NRA sends thoughts and prayers and continues with its convention in Houston as if it were business as usual.  Which, of course, it is.

Thursday, May 26

Sometimes a name or a reference in a newspaper will trigger memories which you think are long forgotten.  I experienced that this morning when I was browsing the newspaper and came across the name: Kumi Taguchi.  I've never met Kumi but her mother was my Japanese teacher at Gib Gate.  I went on two trips to Japan with Mary and will always be grateful for being introduced to that fabulous country.  Marilyn and I have been back several times since and took Madeleine there for her tenth birthday.

Mary studied in Japan in the sixties and later met and married a Japanese journalist working in Melbourne.  They had two children but, when he was still quite young, he moved into what Mary describes as 'an old person's home' in Melbourne, where he eventually died at 84.

Kumi is a journalist and is the host of the SBS show Insight.  Next Tuesday, the program will be looking at children who didn't know their parents until they were adults.  Kumi says she never knew her father and 'only reconnected with him' in her twenties.  We'll have to watch out for it.

Wednesday, May 25

Marilyn has headed off to work.  I'm starting to realise I was being selfish when I encouraged her to retire, back in 2009.  She's never happier than when she has a regular occupation to go and, when I would be looking forward to the weekend, Marilyn looks forward to Monday morning again.

My only task today is to get Jamie to the garage to pick up his car which is having a new alternator fitted.  I've no idea what that is but I don't need to know.  He sent me a link this morning to a real estate ad for one of the units at this address.  Unit 5 is occupied by two ladies and I suspect they are the ones who are so cavalier with putting out their bins.  However, the really interesting part of the ad is the asking price.

The unit is essentially identical to ours and the agent is expecting to receive 50% more than it would have sold for 33 months ago when it was new.  It's outrageous but I expect they will have an offer or two before the day is out.  There is such a shortage of good dwellings in this part of the world and such a demand, that sellers can ask what they like.

17% pa inflation in house prices should be ringing alarm bells and I look forward to the new government doing something about it.

Tuesday, May 24

Marilyn has gone off to work this morning and I have an appointment at the hospital so our lives go on uninterrupted by the machinations of what passes for politics in Australia. Marilyn had an email last night confirming that she will be needed until Friday, at least, and not expect to finish early.  She's happy enough to comply and is rubbing her hands together, thinking about the extra dollars in her bank account.  In fact, that's the only plus I can find in this whole dopey game: deserving people can make a few dollars by involving themselves in the complicated business of sorting out the results.

I've said it before: with the technology that's available to us today, why are we persevering with an  18th century system which is wide open for errors and abuse?

Jamie and Nera are in Hobart at the moment so my only role in life is to baby-sit Archie.  Oh, that it has come to this!

Clearly winter has hit these southern states and we had a bit of a frost last night.  Still, the air is clear and Tasmania is still, probably, the best place in the world to live.

Monday, May 23

I'm home alone today; well, alone with Archie but he's become part of the furniture. Marilyn left early to continue with the election count.  She did a full day yesterday and it seems it might continue for the rest of the week.   Sadly, I am nursing my wounds and will have to occupy myself here for the foreseeable future.  Apart from anything else, I'm not at all attractive with a large bandage on my forehead and one on my left hand.  

So we have a new government and now the recriminations start with the old mob: can it all be placed at the feet of Mr Morrison or is there a bigger underlying problem which has to be resolved?  And the tip is that Mr Dutton will become Leader of the Opposition.  If he does get the job it will just reinforce my feeling that the Liberal Party is moving further to the right.  Will that be a positive or will it lead to more of the problems like the one the US is facing?  Who knows?

In the meantime, I will occupy myself with writing, reading, Youtube and whatever else I can find on TV.

Sunday, May 22

I had a bit of an accident yesterday. Marilyn was working at the local election booth and I was invited to help with the count in the afternoon and evening.  It was held at a large building which was once the Coats Paton factory.  In the 1920s the Scottish company was attracted to set up a new factory in Launceston by the availability of cheap hydro-electric power and hundreds of workers were brought here from the Paisley area.  The factory closed many years ago and the building was bought by a church and renamed The Door of Hope.

We were set up in a large area which might once have had the spinning machines.  I was told to come to the entrance which is at the southern end, so I parked close by.  During the evening we were told that we would have to leave at the end of the day by the northern exit.  This meant a long walk through the bowels of the building onto a side street, and an interminable walk along the front of the huge edifice to the unlit carpark.

My group didn't finish until 12.30am, and I set off to walk back to the car on my own.  I was tired and I was struggling.  When I, at last, reached the carpark I stumbled and fell. There was no one around.  I was bleeding from the head and the hand but there was nothing for it but to drive home and sort myself out as best I could.

I went to Casualty this morning; there's no real damage but they weren't happy that I had left it for 9 hours before contacting them.  I'm not happy with the electoral people; their OHS system leaves a lot to be desired.  We should have been allowed to leave by the door we came in, not one which took us in the opposite direction and put us into a dangerous situation, and I'm going to follow it up.

Saturday, May 21

Marilyn has headed off to her polling station ready for a big day. My shift doesn't start until 3.30 so I'll have most of the day to myself.  I turned on the TV to get the news and stumbled upon the last few minutes of this week's Q&A.  I haven't watched it for years and it's certainly changed from the days of Tony Jones.

The audience this week was mostly young people; I didn't hear any of their questions but I thought how incongruous it was that the male politicians on the panel were all dressed in their uniform of grey suit, white shirt and tie.  It's harder to point the finger at females whose dress sense varies so much but I wondered whether anyone in a position like that could ever have any credibility with 18-year olds voting for the first time.

The other day I came across a story about a 92-year old who realised he was probably voting for the last time.  He decided it was selfish of him to vote for his own narrow wishes so went along to the local High School to talk to the kids who are growing up into this Australia that his generation will leave them.  He didn't give any information about what they had said but did hint that he wouldn't be voting for either of the major parties.

It's food for thought. Perhaps more of us should try to put more emphasis on what might be best for our grandchildren than for ourselves. 

Friday, May 20

Marilyn's quite excited about working at the election tomorrow; she's not done it before and has no idea how tedious it can become and how long a day it is with the hardest part of it right at the end.  We're also booked to be involved in the Scrutiny but haven't heard when we'll be needed.  The person who first contacted us said I might be needed from 9 o'clock on Saturday but there's been no confirmation so I wait to be told what's happening.

I've borrowed Nera's car for the weekend because Marilyn and I will be working in different places and at different times.  Its's a Jeep Cherokee, very flash and quite a bit bigger than my little Mitsubishi.  She and Jamie are in Swansea today with a hire car.  The company she works for has stoped paying allowances for the use of personal cars, preferring to provide hire cars as needed.  I don't know what she has this time but they seem to prefer 4WDs for some reason.

Jamie's car is in the garage having a new alternator fitted; typical that it would choose to misbehave on the busiest weekend of the year.  

Thursday, May 19

I woke up this morning, realising that I had had a revelation while I slept. In just over 50 hours from now, I'll be voting in an election which will affect the direction that Australia will be travelling for the next few years.  I'm sick of seeing politicians on TV making fools of themselves so that people might remember their name when it comes to putting a number on a piece of paper.  They've told me, over and over again, that only they can secure Australia's future, and then nothing gets done in the areas that I think are important.

And, the worst part is, they denigrate their opponent to the point where, if that person is elected he/she will have to live with all the over-egged slurs and false accusations that have been thrown during the 'campaign'.

I don't want to play that game any more.  I realise that I've never read the manifestos of the various parties; I don't really know what they stand for and I have no idea whether they are at all interested in meeting my expectations of what a government should provide.

My bad!  I'm certainly not going to wade through the reams of turgid prose the parties provide on their website trying to conceal what they really believe in.  Instead, I'll identify a handful of issues which I think are important and try to work out from that which party best fits my expectations.

And here they are (just off the top of my head): 

    1. Have a Federal Integrity Commission to deal with all the rorts and corruption.

    2. Re-build a professional, independent Public Service to cut out all these so-called reports carried out by the Government's mates at huge expense.

    3. Start dealing with climate change

    4. Sort out the NDIS

    5. Sort out Aged Care.

Is that enough?  Well, it's a start. I could add 'Sort out Barnaby Joyce' but that's probably beyond any government.  I've left it a bit late to follow it up with any of the candidates but I might spend an hour or two on the web this afternoon checking their various websites. I have a strange feeling that I might end up not supporting either of the major parties.

Wednesday, May 18

It's hard to avoid brain washing nowadays when we're being bombarded on all sides by 'experts' who are trying to sell us something, whether it's a point of view or a product of some kind.  However, just occasionally I succumb and allow myself to be drawn in.

Yes, I've been caught out.  I have fallen for the lure of 'Nordic Socks'.  I've seen the ads and been enthralled by the vibrant colours and the promises of never having cold feet again.  The enticement that I could have five pairs at half price as an 'end-of-season special' was the clincher.  Off went my credit card details and I waited for the expected parcel.

It came and its's fair to say I was underwhelmed.  The socks look good but are barely adequate.  They're a bit short in the leg and in the foot, even though I bought the large size.  It surprises me because I had always thought that Norwegians and other people from Nordic countries had enormous feet.  There's not much stretch in them and they don't have the feel of natural materials.  

The final straw came today when I noticed that one I was wearing had a seam down the side.  I had assumed that socks were knitted in a circle and there would be no seam.  How naive I was!

Recently, when we were staying in Hobart, I ran short and bought a couple of pairs of cheap socks from Big W.  In all respects they are better socks than the not-cheap Nordic ones: not as bright, of course, but nobody has commented on my Nordic socks anyway.    I think I'll buy local in future.

Tuesday, May 17

"It's a bugger getting old," my father used to say but, sadly, he never did.  Like most of his family before him, he was gone before his 69th birthday.  My mother hung on until she was 92 but that was a tragedy of another kind. Suffering with dementia, her last days were appalling and I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

I'm now in my 80th year and I'm watching my contemporaries, one by one, succumbing to ill-health or worse. Several of my school friends have already passed away and I worry about receiving an email from someone who rarely contacts me in case it is bad news.

Just this weekend, we heard from a good friend that she is struggling to cope with changes in her husband's level of independence.  He is a bit older than she is and they have only one daughter who lives interstate.  Our friend now has to cope with a husband who is almost bed-ridden and who is unnable to cope with things like putting on his shoes and climbing into bed.  What is the wife to do?  She can't lift him and, although they've been married for more than half a century, she knows he will need to go into aged care.

But how easy is that to organise? Not at all!  She is waiting to hear from the ACAT team whether a place might be available which is not at the other end of the state.  And all the faciliites are struggling with finding and retaining staff.  Who would choose to work in that environment, unappreciated and poorly paid? 

While our Prime Minister is unapologetic and refuses to back a $1 increase in the hourly rate for these stalwarts.  Instead, he prefers to give tax cuts to the highest-paid people in our society.

Monday, May 16

I look forward to an email I receive every Friday from Virginia Trioli.  She has a radio program on the ABC in Melbourne but I remember her from her time on the ABC Breakfast TV show.  Clearly, at some time, I've signed up to receive her regular email and have forgotten I've done so.  This week she talked about a dilemma being faced by voters around Australia.  What does a voter do when he/she wants to vote for a local Liberal candidate (like the impressive Bridget Archer in Bass) but doesn't want to put up with another four years of Scott Morrison? It gets back to my frequent complaints that the average voter has no  say in who will be the Prime Minister.  Maybe it's time to re-visit the idea of becoming a republic and we can all be involved in voting for our President.

Marilyn and I decided we'd visit the gym this weekend.  I've avoided going there when there's no staff around but Marilyn was keen so we fronted up.  We have a key so there was no problem with entry.  There were a few people around; some kids playing basketball in the stadium part but the rest was in darkness.  We headed for the area where all the machines are and it seemed deserted although the big TV was on with the usual high energy music.

Great, I thought, there's no-one here so we don't have to put up with that, and turned it off.  Marilyn and I took a bike each and started our routine.  A minute later, a small angry woman came up and switched the music back on again.  She must have been in the back area, out of sight.

What's the protocol, I wonder, for gymnasiums.  Is it that the first person there decides whether the music plays or not?  Or should it be that the majority rules?  Marilyn and I were two people who wanted the music off and this woman was only one.  Why did she think she had priority?

Sunday, May 15

The sun's shining this morning for the first time in a week or so.  I feel a strange sense of contentment although whether it's raining or sunny makes no difference to my life.  I'll do the same things today whether the sun is in the sky or whether there is water lapping at the edges of the levees.  There are some people, I suppose, who look at the sky and say, "Great, I'll be able to work in the garden today," but that's not me.  Marilyn's first thought when she looked out the window was, "Great, I'll be able to get the sheets on the line," but that's not me either.

Some might envy me for my ability to remain the same whether it is raining or the sun is shining and I suppose it is a gift.

Saturday, May 14

I think I might have forgotten to press the button to post yesterday's musings.  Nobody complained so maybe nobody noticed.  Anyway, I've posted it now.

Marlyn and I both woke early this morning, at about the same time.  It's not unusual for us to wake up but normally we're not aware of the other's nighttime meanderings.  Depending on the time, I might just get up or I might turn over and get another hour or two of sleep.  Marilyn is different.  Invariably, she will make herself a cup of coffee, pack herself around with pillows, prop her tablet on the gadget we found on eBay for bedtime reading and immerse herself in the exploits of whatever paperback hero is the current choice.  At the moment, it happens to be DI Vera Stanhope in the books by Ann Cleeves.

I've always been an avid reader but it's something that Marilyn has only come to since retirement.  She used to say she couldn't understand that my Mum always had a book or two on the go and couldn't see how anyone could make the time.  Now, though, if she doesn't have a book in her lap with another waiting for its turn, she's not happy.

She reads all sorts of books but particularly likes crime novels, and especially if they're in a series.  The first big series she read was by JD Robb and there are more than 50 of those;  then she moved on to Anne Perry (30 in one series, over 20 in the other) and I'm always on the lookout for the next big thing.  I suppose it's better than a lot of other hobbies she might get involved with.

Friday, May 13

Friday has come around again and, if I didn't know better, I'd say they're coming more frequently.  Perhaps it's just that time passes more quickly as you get older.  Still, I mustn't allow myself to become morbid.  There was a time when I might have been a little worried about the date: Friday, 13th, but I know that's just a superstition, promoted by marketers trying to make a quick buck.

My story for Writing Group today is on the topic 'Murder in the Shady Banks Retirement Home' and I've allowed myself to have fun with the main character, Muriel, who writes stories and enjoys reading them to the rest of the inmates.  Her stories have titles like 'Murder on the Sushi Express', set in a Japanese restaurant, and 'Death on the Pile', inspired by the scenes of heaps of debris piled up outside flooded houses in Lismore.  She also happens to be the murderer.

We're supposed to limit ourselves to between 700 and 800 words and it's hard, sometimes to keep the story within those limits.  Of course, the tutor is too polite to pull us up if we overstep the mark and there has been more than one occasion when we've had to sit through 1000 words or more on some tedious story of unrequited love.  Unfortunately, I'm conditioned to accept rules and I work assiduously to trim my tales to acceptable limits.  Today's story about Muriel had lots of scope for expansion but that will have to wait for another time.

Thursday, May 12

One of the more colourful characters hanging around the Tasmanian political scene is a fellow who called himself Steve Mav.  His real surname is Italian and has at least 10 more letters so he's gone for the short version.  He stands for every election that come around and his mode is to stand on street corners carrying a big sign with his name and waving madly at cars going past. We've just regarded him as a harmless eccentric but this time around he has a new sign. It seems he has joined One Nation and now has the backing of Pauline.

I thought it was time I looked him up. His Linked-In profile claims he is an executive of BHP with no evidence that he has ever worked for them.  His last job was as Chief Executive of the Gumala Aboriginal Corporation who receive millions of doors every year in royalties from BHP.  The Corporation is now suing him for the return of expenses he claimed fraudently, including thousands of dollars in accommodation expenses when he was staying at his Mum's flat, and dozens of expensive meals at some of Perth's top restaurants.

Mr Mavigiannakis also wants to ban cycles from the roads, re-introduce the death penalty in Australia, and is against 'greenies', QR code check-ins, paedophiles, communists and 'climatards'.  He is a strong supporter of Donald Trump.

I don't suppose there's room on his sign for all that, but it does highlight, again, the weakness in our system.  Some people will vote for him because they've see him around, because he's a bit of an oddball or 'just because', without having any idea of his background.  God help us!

Wednesday, May 11

I'm starting to despair for the future of democracy in our world.  The philosophy sounds right: give the vote to everyone who is affected by the government and everything will be fine.  But, in reality, how is that working out?  In the UK, the people in their wisdom voted in an absolute boofhead to be Prime Minister, just this weekend, the people of the Philippines voted in as President the son of a notorious dictator who stole billions from the national coffers, and the US is tearing itself apart as tribalism takes over.  And the choice at their last election was between Donald Trump or a superannuated 78-year old.  I won't be surprised if there is a move by Southern states to break away from the federation.

Of course, I have a particular interest in the Philippines and I've had many conversations with people there about their political system and its weaknesses.  Our friends in Manila shrug their shoulders and acknowledge that votes are bought. A scrutineer will watch individuals go into the booth to vote, when he sees the tick has been put in the right place, he gives a thumbs-up to someone standing apart, the voter can then go and collect his reward of a few pesos.  It's blatant and rife.

The tragedy is that Marcos has probably used the money stolen by his parents to fund his successful bid for the presidency.  And nothing can be done about it.

It's not much better in Australia.  The incumbent government uses public money for bribes to voters.  It's more civilised and the bribes come in the form of grants for car parks and sports facilities.  I heard one well-dressed fellow on TV saying that he had looked at the policies of all the parties and decided the party which best fit his beliefs was the Liberal Party, "because they will give me a tax cut".  What a short-sighted, self-centred reason for selling your vote!

It's our taxes which pay for hospitals, the armed forces, the NDIS and so on.  It's short-sighted of a government to cut taxes to buy votes when those things still have to be funded and Clive Palmer and Gina Rinehart aren't going to help out. 

As an aside, I think Australia would benefit from a shake-up in our party system.  The Liberals have moved too far from the centre-right party of Robert Menzies and should more correctly be called Conservative.  The Labour Party suffers from its affiliation with the Union movement.  Neither of the parties represent me.  What we need is a left of centre Social-Democratic Party to take over from the ALP.  The Australian Democrats used to fill that role but, sadly, couldn't compete with the big money washing around the two incumbents.

Tuesday, May 10

Jamie's birthday today and it would be nice to go out for lunch but he and Nera are in Hobart so we'll have to postpone it for another time.

Marilyn woke early this morning, as she often does, and wandered through to make herself a cup of coffee, as she often does.  I was still asleep but I heard her complaining, "We've got a blackout!"  Then she changed her tune, "It's a brownout," because the bedside clock numbers were flashing and the little night light in the hallway was glowing faintly.

By the time I pulled myself together, it was completely dark.  Not only did we have no lights, there was no power to boil water for coffee and the air conditioner had gone off and the cold was creeping back into the corners.  I checked the Aurora Energy website and found we were suffering an outage, one of only two in the state.  We pulled the covers over our heads and went back to sleep.

By ten o'clock, I had discovered 905 homes were affected and it had been caused by a motor vehicle accident.  We decided we would get dressed and head off looking for a coffee shop but, at that point, the lights flickered back on and we went about our morning routine as normal, albeit a bit late.  Sadly, I missed my session at the gym.

Monday, May 9

There's nothing much organised for today.  I want to the gym as usual this morning and went through my routine. It's becoming more comfortable and I've upped the repetitions of each exercise from 8 to 12 and increased the resistance as well.  You can see how professional I'm becoming and how my vocabulary is improving.  I'd normally talk about 'reps' rather than 'repetitions' but I realised this note could be read by an audience unused to the vocabulary of the gym.

Marilyn and I did our 'training' yesterday for our job working at the count following the election.  We discovered that the correct term is 'scrutiny' because most of the actual counting is done immediately after the close of polls on Saturday night.  What we do is scrutinise the votes to make sure they're valid and re-count to ensure accuracy.

The training was done on-line and consisted of a series of statements and questions.  It all seemed a bit contrived because what do we need to know before we get involved in the low-level job of counting?  So, we were given information about the various sections of the layout with names like BPSSZ, BPSWZ and BPSHZ.  We found out the relevance of the different coloured vests that people wear (red is particularly important) and we were told the acronyms for the various computer programs used by the AEC.  ELMS is the management system, RMANS looks after the roll and ECL is responsible for the lists of voters.

We both passed and now feel fully equipped for the task ahead.  Funny, nobody has asked if we can count up to 20.

Sunday, May 8

 Happy Mothers Day to anyone who qualifies.

Marilyn and I voted yesterday in the Tasmanian Upper House poll.  It was easy; nothing like the rigmarole which goes on in Federal elections.  There were no long queues and no short tempers, straight in, write down a couple of numbers and then out to find a coffee shop.

The key is pre-organisation.  Each of us received a bar code in the mail, we handed that in and the young woman on the desk handed us our voting slips.  Easy!  There was no searching through pages and pages of names to see whether we were listed; after we had taken our voting slips, the young woman scanned in the info to her computer and we were electronically ticked off.

For years, Tasmania has had its electoral roll on computer.  Each person on the desk has a laptop; when somebody fronts up, they are asked their name, the official types in the first four letter and then selects the right person from the names that appear.  No rulers and pencils to cross out the voter.  

At the last Federal election, I was in charge of a supposedly small booth in Launceston.  I only had two electoral roll books so only two people could tick off names at the one time.  We were inundated by customers, with lines stretching for hundreds of metres.  And nothing could be done because we were hampered by 18th century technology.

It will be the same when we vote in a couple of weeks time.  Long queues, short tempers and lack of patience,  It's not surprising that people might decide not to bother and it doesn't have to be like that.

Saturday, May 7

Election season gets under way from today when Marilyn and I vote in the Tasmanian Legislative Council poll.  It's hard to take it seriously: there are just fifteen members and their only function seems to be to rubber-stamp the decisions of the lower house, the Legislative Assembly.  I think many Tasmanians see it as a place where older public figures go to keep themselves busy in retirement.  It certainly doesn't get much publicity and that probably suits the incumbents.

I had thought I would be just a bystander to this year's Federal Election but I had a call yesterday asking me if I would get involved in the count.  I said yes and put down the phone; within seconds, Marilyn's phone rang and she was asked the same question.  I start my work at  9 pm on the Saturday night while Marilyn is still at her polling station, and we will then both be involved from the Sunday until everything has been double-checked.

We quite enjoyed it last time and it was quite lucrative.  Maybe we'll be able to spend it on a holiday.

Friday, May 6

I've been very good and visited the gym every morning this week.  I'm getting to recognise some of the faces now: the regulars who, like me, are trying to allay the ravages of time when it's probably too late to make a difference.  There are usually a couple of the staff around, even if I get there early.  If I catch their eye, they'll nod to me or say Good Morning but, otherwise, they don't acknowledge me.  I suspect they've been told not to be too pushy, especially with the older clientele.  

If someone took too much interest in what I was doing I might be tempted to give it up.  I'm quite happy to  go about my routine anonymously and I don't want well-meaning busybodies nagging me to report on my progress.

Some mornings are better than others.  It all depends on whether the early birds have turned on the music videos on the big-screenTV.  It's high energy stuff, with a lot of heavy rock and aggressive lyrics.  This morning one of the female coaches switched programs because she was fed up with the dreadful language in the video that was playing.  I didn't note much difference but it's all just noise to me.

Thursday, May 5

You can’t open a newspaper at the moment or turn on the TV without someone telling you how you should vote at the election in a couple of weeks’ time and it’s no wonder that voters are turning off in droves.  I was reading an article this morning which bemoaned the fact that the two major parties will be lucky to bring in around 40% of the vote each. In the 1950s, the two main parties received over 95% of the vote; today it will be more like 70%.  On those figures about 30% of the electorate is turning its back on the traditional parties and that is an understated figure because I suspect that a much larger chunk of the electorate only vote because they have to and putting a tick somewhere on the paper fulfils their obligation and they won’t be fined.  Name recognition comes into play here and the party they’ve seen more often on TV will likely get the tick.

 

I wouldn’t be surprised if the two-party system is broken beyond repair. A very nice man called Brian Mitchell is the MP for my electorate and, next door in Bass, there is a very competent young woman called Bridget Archer.  But they’re only foot soldiers in a system which places all power in the hands of the two people who have played the political game well enough to grab the top jobs.  I’ve said often that, in an open election, neither Mr Morrison or Mr Albanese would get my tick but, no matter who I prefer, it’s the party which chooses the leader.

 

The other concern is that Australian politics may be going down the same path as the US and the UK where complete fools make their way into the top jobs and chaos rules.  Heaven help us if that’s the case.

Wednesday, May 4

 May 4th be with you!

What a tacky thing to say!  It looks as if I'm trying to be cool by pretending to be a 'Trekky' or something when all it does is point out how 'square' I remain, after all these years.

Being square, I took our bins out last night and lined them up squarely on the kerb.  A couple of people from our units had beaten me to it which is always irritating, as they don't follow the rules.  There's a stretch of kerb between two driveways which will take eight bins comfortably. We put out two bins each fortnight, there are five units, which equals 10 bins The fellow next door is rarely here so we don't have to worry about making room for him but, if he is, there's a bit of room in front of the house next door.  However, as you can see, space is at a premium and there's no room for alternative set-ups.

Somebody, who hasn't bothered to mark her bins with her Unit number, likes to get them out early; she puts one somewhere in the middle of the space and the second one about 2 feet away from it.  The system doesn't work when there's 2 feet between bins.  To get our eight bins into the available space, someone has to move the delinquent bins closer together to make room.  Usually, it's me. You'll notice that I used the pronoun 'she' for the culprit.  I'm confident it is a woman who is causing the problem because, when the FIFO man next door is away, I'm the only man in the units and we all know that women lack spatial awareness.

I can understand why, sometimes, neighbours fall out. 

Tuesday, May 3

It's another overcast day here in Longford and we've had a bit of rain overnight.  I'm always up earlier than Marilyn and this morning I wanted to finish off my story for the Writing Group on Friday.  I hate leaving it to the last minute and I suspect I will make several changes to it before I have to read it to the class.

The topic is Caught in the Act and I've written about an inept robber of a farm shed.  I try to avoid humour in my stories because I know it can backfire if the audience don't get it or think you're trying to be too smart but this story just went in that direction and I didn't try to rein it in. I think I've said before that my stories often seem to unfold without my intervention and this is one of those.

Still, it's only Tuesday and who knows what will happen to the story in the next three or four days.

Jamie and Nera are in Hobart so we're looking after Archie ... no hardship there!

Monday, May 2

 Every now and again, I like to get my teeth into a book that’s a bit more ‘meaty’ than the usual thrillers I enjoy: a book like ‘Sapiens’, which I’ve read twice now – once on a cruise when I had plenty of time to fill, and again more recently when the pandemic confined us to barracks.

 

Sapiens looked at the rise of Homo Sapiens and how this species became pre-eminent in the world often at the expense of other species and bio-systems.  It’s a book to make you think.

 

This week, I became aware of another book which seems to put a toe into the same subject matter; in fact, some of the reviews tout it as the ‘New Sapiens’.  It’s called The Dawn of Everything – a New History of Humanity.  It’s written by a couple of scientists, one of whom is an archaeologist, the other an anthropologist.  It’s started well and I suspect I’ll enjoy it.