The Working Bee

The trials and tribulations of the Emerald Museum and Nobelius Heritage Park have been painful to me for about the past three years. There have been conflicts of opinions, personalities and philosophy, not involving me directly for the most part, but I've been aboard the ship in the storm and have suffered sea sickness. I have avoided posting about it as this being a public forum I have been fearful that I may offend some of the participants causing the ship to founder finally.

This time last year at our June meeting our President resigned, this following two resignations, including that of a lady committee member whom he was trying to cajole into the role of coordinator of the Museum Advisory Group that he wanted to form along the lines of the Park Advisory Group (PAG), which was and still is, coordinated by yours truly.

The previous year, ie two years ago, 2009, at our Biannual General Meeting, we could not get anyone to accept nomination for secretary or treasurer. I had accepted nomination as president, reluctantly, but it looked like our existence as a section 86 Committee of Management of Cardinia Shire Council would cease, until some weeks later one of our local councillors found someone with an impeccable record as an administrator willing to come in as President of a new committee with the number of members reduced from 12 to 9 to make management and control easier.

The new committee didn't really get up and running till November 2009. I was appointed park curator, a role I had filled since 2000, and made a concerted effort to get behind the new president and committee and make improvements in the park. The new president tried to get the rest of the committee to leave behind the animosities that existed in the museum in the twelve months leading up to the 2009 election, which had seen much friction culminating in the resignation of our long standing president, immediately followed by that of the secretary and soon after the resignation of the VP who had stepped into to the Chair. And our treasurer who was 92 by then gave it away too at the end of the financial year.

A schemozzle? Our President thought so last year after trying unsuccessfully to pull the museum side of things together, so he pulled the pin. At the meeting where he announced his resignation there were only four members present which meant that after he resigned there were only three so we no longer had a quorum and the meeting closed. A Council officer, who was in attendance obviously due to the circumstances, then took the floor asking the three remaining members to agree to a 'recess' of the committee for the immediate future while the council sought independent assessment of the museum collection, practices, and direction. We agreed, it seemed there was no alternative. Frankly I was relieved.

A week or two later one of the committee who had been away at the time of the 'recess meeting', circulated the question, "Why do we have to go into 'recess', there is no provision for 'recess' in the deed of delegation." Considerable public agitation followed and a meeting was called to discuss the matter. On the day of the meeting, the then secretary, who was present when the Pres resigned at the 'recess meeting', and who had asked if he could chair the meeting that day if someone else would take minutes, sent me an email saying he would not be attending, we wouldn't have a quorum therefore, so we could not make a decision.

I attended the meeting as scheduled in any case to find about forty people present and somehow found myself chairing the meeting, probably because it was felt I had been with the committee some 20 years and knew more about all the circumstances than anyone else. Incredibly, another of our members, who had been overseas and had just returned, was present which did give us a quorum, and after a long meeting a motion was passed that we rescind our previous agreement to go into 'recess' which was made without a quorum, and that we advise council that we wish to continue as a COM and rebuild with their patience and assistance.

I have been acting chairman at meetings since and we've doggedly hung on, finding new members to replace those who resigned, which included the secretary after the meeting to rescind the 'recess'. We have also formed a 'Friend's Group'. We have devised one year work programs and a five year project timeline. There is obviously a lot more detail and intrigue that occurred along the way, some of which annoyed me enough to act as a spur for my continued participation. We still have major hurdles and problems. I have been nominated as President for our election of a new committee at our BGM next month. The assessment by the independent consultant, required by council before they will commit to support with our annual maintenance grant, begins in early July. We have to pay for it ourselves from funds we have accumulated from fund raising in the past. It is to cost $15,000.

Last January I was weeding the rosemary and lavender plantation in the park when a man with a camera came up and introduced himself. Patrick explained he was the official photographer for the salvia society who have a plantation in our park, and that he loves the park and has been visiting it for years. He said he'd send me some photos by email, which he did, and that he'd help organizing a newsletter and Friend's Group, which he did, by himself really.

We had a working bee, our second, last Saturday with the Friend's Group. The attendance was poor due to the mid winter timing and the hostile weather of the day. Three new people turned up as a result of our publicity, and they were cheerful and enthusiastic, a real tonic. We planted trees, did some weeding and mulching, cleared a drain and tidied up.

Coming home Saturday afternoon I felt so happy. There's nothing like new blood. My confidence for the future has raised a notch or two despite my reticence to be president for the two years of the next committee. There are people on our committee and in our 'Friends' who give tirelessly of their time and energy, and who restore my faith in this community.

I'll ask Patrick to send me a few photos of our recent work and include them on this post later

20 Years Nicotine Free

May came and went without me being aware that it marked the 20th anniversary of my giving up the fags. I thought of it the other day when I saw a boy about 16yo having a smoke walking to the school bus stop in the main street. A big lump of a lad he was, with wavy hair, dishevelled uniform and the most disinterested look about him that you could imagine.

Apart from his size he reminded me of me at that age, dragging myself about with no motivation and little if any understanding of why it was I was forced to do the things I had to endure, and snatching a smoke at every opportunity. I felt sorry for him.

I started smoking one day after a friend offered me one at age 15 and was hooked right then till age 39 in 1991. It was my boys aged 5 and 3 imitating me smoking with their drinking straws that finally motivated me to be a non smoker, which suddenly seemed a better option as a father figure role model. Fortunately neither of my boys as they grew older showed any interest in smoking. I didn't nag at them not to smoke, knowing that didn't work in my case; my parents were crusading non smokers who warned and threatened at every opportunity.

I would have liked to have gone up to the young bloke and briefly told him the agony I had breaking the habit and advise him to stop now before the habit got a strong hold on him, but it would have been more likely counter productive. He must be aware of all the negatives of smoking already yet he chooses to smoke anyway. An old bloke like me giving him an unasked for lecture would probably only make him want to light up another straight away.

It's a funny thing, nicotine addiction. Some people suffer it worse than others. For the most part Lib was one of those who could take it or leave it, and has spent most of her adult life as a non smoker with bouts of social smoking. I could never do that, I was a full on addict and I'm so happy I beat it back when I did. The key was telling myself continually that I now chose not to smoke and that every day I didn't smoke was a good day because I didn't smoke, and my being was clean of nicotine, no matter what else might go wrong.

It's still a great feeling when I remind myself. I suppose it's about respect for self, which I think opens you up to a whole lot more good thoughts and vibes. But I don't deny my adolescence was troubled and I thought back then the fag habit helped me through a lot of emotional stress. Maybe that young bloke really needs a fag to help him face up to catching the bus and enduring hours cooped up in a class room being overloaded with stuff he has no interest in. It's not for me to judge.

Last week Gord and I went to the funeral of a young local bloke who went through school with Gord. He was a big, strong strikingly handsome young man of 25, a fitness fanatic with a partner and many friends, and seemingly a wonderful life ahead. He took his own life. Some years ago another of Gord's childhood tribe was killed in a car accident. Another of his friends died of cancer a few years ago.

You won't find me getting around giving smokers a hard time.

Comfort in the Kitchen

Last week I had the urge to cook. Monday morning, (after midnight Sunday night actually) I kicked off by preparing the ingredients for a meat sauce for pasta. Monday morning before my appointment with the rheumatologist I browned the mince and tossed everything into the crockpot before leaving.

Lib asked me to buy chicken schnitzels for dinner so I visited Dandenong plaza where there's a large fuit and veg shop with produce much cheaper than in Emerald, as well as a butcher, fish shop, and anything else you want. In the butcher shop next to the schnitzels were ox tails on special, so ox tail stew was the go Tuesday morning.

Grant, a keen vegie gardener who lives where I pick camellia on Tuesdays, offered me some leeks, so Wednesday morning it was potatoe and leek soup. Thursday morning I eyed off a pumpkin we grew at home last summer, thinking to myself that this year's pumpkins were watery and not premium as a plate vegie, so Thursday morning it was pumpkin soup.

This cooking of course involves quite a bit of cutting up and preparation, and has an amazing calming affect on me. It's wonderful therapy, a bridge over troubled water. I think it's in the affirmative action it gives me, and the focus on something simple but helpful and enjoyed by the whole family.

Slow cookers are great as you can leave them on low all day. I bought another won at ALDI recently for $29. Can you believe that? Yesterday I did a pea and ham soup to go with the wintry weather. The fridge and freezer is stocked with delicious soup and stew.