I was very pleased to hear of the withdrawal of most Australia's military force from Afghanistan.
Yesterday, I heard on radio 693 the opening of Neil Mitchell's show.
Was it worth it?, he asked. He answered using what our VC decorated soldier Donaldson said to him when he asked him that question.
Donaldson/Mitchell said, "Was WW1 worth it?Was WW11 worth it? Would more terrorist attacks by plane on buildings have happened in the US had we not gone? Would there have been more bombs in Bali? We simply had to go. We had no choice.
My answers to these questions were-
NO
NO
NO ONE KNOWS
NO ONE KNOWS
I don't believe we had no choice. Of course we did.
Later in the program someone said we had to go to Afghanistan because it was issuing phony passports to terrorists to come and attack the US. A question arose in my mind. Would it have not been more prudent to not recognize Afghanistan passports and refuse entry or at least submit them to to utmost scrutiny at the domestic level? Think of the trillions of dollars that would have been saved and the human life as well. That money could have been used in other ways.
My view was in 2001, as it is now, that military invasion or attack by Australia on another nation is abhorrent to me. Sicko stuff.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Saturday, October 26, 2013
The Magic of Music and Song
It amazes me how music can reach deep into your soul. A few bars of a song not heard physically but played in your mind can change one's mood and inspire to rise above fatigue and despair. Or a song on the radio out of the blue can lift you out of the day's tedium into dreamtime. And also the sheer relaxing pleasure of playing old favourites on the weekend while you do housekeeping chores or do cooking or preparing. Magic is the right word.
In a conversation with Meredith along these lines she told me three short stories. Firstly, when she visited our grandmother regularly in her last days in 1996, 'old nanna' was 99 years old and failing in memory. She didn't know Meredith's name or who she was but she would sing old hymns word perfect quietly to herself in a semi euphoric state that belied her circumstance.
Secondly, Meredith's husband Roger plays piano at St. Marks church in Emerald. He was playing to a group of people one day, one of whom was a man who had suffered a stroke and had lost his ability to speak. At the the conclusion of of a piece Roger was playing, this man rose from his chair and slowly walked to Roger and said, "That was beautiful, thank you," then returned to his seat. Afterwards he could no longer speak again but there was something in the music that triggered his brain at that moment to enable him to say his words.
Thirdly, and this seems impossible and I have no evidence to support it, Meredith's son in law Matt, a music teacher, told Meredith of an incident in a book he read. A lady who had never played the piano was struck by lightning, after which she could play the piano expertly by ear.
There was a fourth, of a severely disabled person who could not speak but could play the piano by ear, but I don't quite remember any more than that, maybe I'll update this later. I'll talk to Matt to when I see him.
Play it again Sam.
Monday, October 14, 2013
If I Could
As I finished tidying up around the front door and carport yesterday, Sunday, I noticed the rear passenger side window on Lib's car was down a couple of inches. I thought I'd better close it, more than once we've had a huntsman spider in Lib's car and they can be hard to catch. One fell from the sun visor once onto Lib's lap nearly causing an accident.
I forgot to do it. Lib rang me today from work soon after she got there, saying she had some bad news. when she got to work she found our blue wren dead on the floor of the car. I can't tell adequately the emotional distress I felt at that instant, and repeatedly numerous time during the day, including now.
A couple of weeks ago a pair of blue fairy wrens turned up in our garden. I was overjoyed at this as blue wrens had not been seen in our garden for many years possibly two decades. We were invaded by bell birds and all the small birds were hunted out by the aggressive and territorial bellbirds. The bellbirds left in the searing heat of the summer of 2009 and the wrens, fantails and thornbills have come back much to our delight. I'd see blue wrens elsewhere around Gembrook but until two weeks ago they had not reappeared at our place.
I was thrilled by their comeback, the male with his brilliant blue colouring is something to behold and this pair were about every day excitedly chirruping their scritchy call. He spent a lot of time tapping on the lounge room window trying to chase of his rival self reflection, and also on the car mirrors and windows.
He must have flown into through Lib's slightly open window in his exertions and not been able to find his way out again. I'd say he flew about in the car hitting the windows trying to get out and died of exhaustion and lack of food and water in the car. His efforts would have taxed him, and flight for a small bird uses a lot of energy.
The female was about today, calling and looking for her mate. How terrible I felt. As if it isn't hard enough for little birds to survive predation by cats, currawongs, minahs, kookaburras without having the hazard of being trapped in a car and dying of exhaustion.
If I could only turn back the clock, I'd make sure there were no car widows slightly open.
I forgot to do it. Lib rang me today from work soon after she got there, saying she had some bad news. when she got to work she found our blue wren dead on the floor of the car. I can't tell adequately the emotional distress I felt at that instant, and repeatedly numerous time during the day, including now.
A couple of weeks ago a pair of blue fairy wrens turned up in our garden. I was overjoyed at this as blue wrens had not been seen in our garden for many years possibly two decades. We were invaded by bell birds and all the small birds were hunted out by the aggressive and territorial bellbirds. The bellbirds left in the searing heat of the summer of 2009 and the wrens, fantails and thornbills have come back much to our delight. I'd see blue wrens elsewhere around Gembrook but until two weeks ago they had not reappeared at our place.
I was thrilled by their comeback, the male with his brilliant blue colouring is something to behold and this pair were about every day excitedly chirruping their scritchy call. He spent a lot of time tapping on the lounge room window trying to chase of his rival self reflection, and also on the car mirrors and windows.
He must have flown into through Lib's slightly open window in his exertions and not been able to find his way out again. I'd say he flew about in the car hitting the windows trying to get out and died of exhaustion and lack of food and water in the car. His efforts would have taxed him, and flight for a small bird uses a lot of energy.
The female was about today, calling and looking for her mate. How terrible I felt. As if it isn't hard enough for little birds to survive predation by cats, currawongs, minahs, kookaburras without having the hazard of being trapped in a car and dying of exhaustion.
If I could only turn back the clock, I'd make sure there were no car widows slightly open.
Friday, October 11, 2013
Lamb and Goat's Cheese Burger
Thursday is our quiet day business wise in that no customers come to pick up so there's no time clock pressure to have things ready by a certain time. I had run out of coconut oil (for cooking) and had planned to go to Narre Warren or Dandenong to get some. I had some chicken drumsticks in the freezer that were due for cooking and Lib suggested I make a curry and gave me a procedure so I was into it after she left for work and also preparing a week's supply of chook food (7 containers of mixed delicacies that we give the chooks each evening as we put them to bed). While this was happening I washed the sheets thinking they might dry before the forecast rain, and remade the bed with other ones from the linen cupboard when the rain came early.
I had planned to go to the farm and pick some dogwood before Gord and I went to 'Grill'd' for lunch in Narre Warren. Gord has been wanting to take me there for ages. It was raining lightly but steadily when we got to the farm. Nothing had been picked and I was disappointed as Shane our main wholesaler had said he'd take 200 bunches of white dogwood on Friday. That's at $7.50 a bunch. My writing class resumes Friday and I do want to go, so I said to Gord, "Coat and all we'll get wet but let's go down the back and pick for an hour before we go off to Narre." To his credit he agreed and did not complain at getting wet, his coat did not have a hood. It's not easy work, especially in the rain, working off a ladder on a steep slope with a pole cutter. I cut while Gord gathered and trimmed, we bunched 25 and tied into bundles of five and left them on the track for Jod to pick up later with the quad bike. So it was a day off with an hours work to help for the next day. We'll never get 200 bunches tomorrow but at least we made a start.
The rain had worked its way through my coat and down my neck, my shirt and singlet was wet. My gumboots had splits in both so my socks were wet. I had dry leather boots in the van and a nice warm cardigan. I did a bit of banking business in Emerald, and paid my fees at the community house for this term's fees for writing class and computer class. Then we headed to Narre. With dry boots and cardigan over wet shirt I was starting to warm up.
The lamb burger was sensational. Gord had one too.We had a big bowl of fries each. Rarely am I so satiated. We moved on to Healthy Life Shop where I bought two big jars of coconut oil. Also to Aldi for a few of our standards.
It was a great day. By the time I got home I'd dried out. Lib had lit the fire. The cool change had come after 30C yesterday. I finished my column for Signpost to submit in the morning after a reread/ edit.I had struggled with this all week, just couldn't pull it together, and would start, then get sleepy like a zombie, no good. Who would think a 300-400 article could be so hard. But after 4 years of it, ideas are a bit thin and perhaps there's burn out.
I had planned to go to the farm and pick some dogwood before Gord and I went to 'Grill'd' for lunch in Narre Warren. Gord has been wanting to take me there for ages. It was raining lightly but steadily when we got to the farm. Nothing had been picked and I was disappointed as Shane our main wholesaler had said he'd take 200 bunches of white dogwood on Friday. That's at $7.50 a bunch. My writing class resumes Friday and I do want to go, so I said to Gord, "Coat and all we'll get wet but let's go down the back and pick for an hour before we go off to Narre." To his credit he agreed and did not complain at getting wet, his coat did not have a hood. It's not easy work, especially in the rain, working off a ladder on a steep slope with a pole cutter. I cut while Gord gathered and trimmed, we bunched 25 and tied into bundles of five and left them on the track for Jod to pick up later with the quad bike. So it was a day off with an hours work to help for the next day. We'll never get 200 bunches tomorrow but at least we made a start.
The rain had worked its way through my coat and down my neck, my shirt and singlet was wet. My gumboots had splits in both so my socks were wet. I had dry leather boots in the van and a nice warm cardigan. I did a bit of banking business in Emerald, and paid my fees at the community house for this term's fees for writing class and computer class. Then we headed to Narre. With dry boots and cardigan over wet shirt I was starting to warm up.
The lamb burger was sensational. Gord had one too.We had a big bowl of fries each. Rarely am I so satiated. We moved on to Healthy Life Shop where I bought two big jars of coconut oil. Also to Aldi for a few of our standards.
It was a great day. By the time I got home I'd dried out. Lib had lit the fire. The cool change had come after 30C yesterday. I finished my column for Signpost to submit in the morning after a reread/ edit.I had struggled with this all week, just couldn't pull it together, and would start, then get sleepy like a zombie, no good. Who would think a 300-400 article could be so hard. But after 4 years of it, ideas are a bit thin and perhaps there's burn out.
Wednesday, October 02, 2013
Grand Final Weekend
We drove down to Lakes last Thursday in a gale. We stopped for a customary picnic lunch (Subway bought in Traralgon) in our park a little west of Rosedale where I love to admire the wonderful old contorted red gum tree. We could hardly get out the car as the wind was fierce and rain poured as we drove in. I hung around till it eased so doggies could have a wee and a stretch while Lib and Rob left first in the I30. Gord and I were in the Kangoo laden with whippy snippers, ladder and tools as well as the dogs and eskies.
The power was off at the house due to the storm when we arrived but was soon restored. We did a little shop and watched the news before a roast dinner to celebrate the 4 of us eating together, not a common thing since Rob moved out. The house swayed on its pylons as the wind blew strong well into the night and the sea roared in the distance.
The dogs locked in the laundry below woke me whining and yipping at 5.45am as dawn showed itself. It's Pip that makes the noise, Snow would wait in patient silence. I fed and released them and read my book for a couple of hours before getting Lib breakfast. The book, 'The Reprieve' by Jean Paul Sartre was one I took home from the Lakes house when I was last there a couple of months ago. I wanted to finish it to so that I could leave it this time. It was a book I found difficult to read and I was so distracted by so many things over those weeks that I couldn't really warm to it. It was set over about 4 days in 1938 in France as the powers of the day met to decide on war or peace over the territorial dispute in Czechoslovakia. It followed the tensions of French citizens in a highly charged expectation of war and mobilization. It did capture something of the mood of the day but would have stronger meaning to someone who lived through that time I'm sure. The title 'The Reprieve' was so because peace won the day, which was short lived of course as we know. I think the book explored the human emotions in the expectation of war, the excitement and hysteria it provokes and the almost self fulfilling momentum that builds with it. I must ask Maria about it. I don't think I quite got it.
As if by magician's wand the wind had stopped and the sea was calm as a lake. The day, Friday, was warm, sunny and still and Gord and I cut all the grass. Saturday the gale returned and blew angrily all day. We had a barbecued whole schnapper for lunch with salad which was the highlight of the day. Regretably Hawthorn won the premiership, as if you didn't know, which capped off what was a miserable year's AFL footy for me.
Sunday the magician was at work again and the weather was still and perfect. I did some painting and tied up a section of side fence that was nearly collapsed by the gale and slashed some ti tree which had grown on the steep bank behind the house with the metal blade on the whipper. I washed the Kangoo, tied the ladder on the roof rack and packed in the tools and Gord and Rob drove home in it Sunday arvo. Lib and I stayed on with the dogs and came home yesterday after cleaning the house, leaving at 11am and reaching Gembrook at 2.30pm with a stop at Tyers, this time tavelling the back way from Myrtlebank to Moe.
A good weekend except for the footy result but who cares anyway. Sadly I had hard luck punting story. Lib, who usually does not participate, asked me to put trifectas on numbers 2,3 and 5. I did, at Caulfield and Coleraine. I'd asked her what number to substitute if there was a scratching, she said 8. I was using Rob's laptop which I was unfamiliar with as there was no mouse making me awkward and slow and a little impatient. In race 2 at Coleraine number 5 was a scratching, so I substituted 8. Not knowing where to put 8, either in numerical sequence or in place of 5, I did both, at fifty cents each, which is what I put on trifectas. At least I thought I did. Number 2 won at 50/1 and the numbers 2,8,3 paid $4800 for $1, so my collect for 50 cents should have been $2400........ BUT......... when I checked I had taken 2,3,8 and 2,5,8. I had mistakenly taken the scratched horse in my haste.* No Collect.
The mad wind thrashed again last night when we got home. The power went out and was off all day. It's calm outside now. The forecast is again for gales tomorrow. Weird weather, even for spring. to change so quickly and often.
* I make a correction (3 OCT). After thinking about this lying in bed it occurred to me that you shouldn't be able to back a scratched horse so I tried to today and you can't. My recollection is that 10 minutes after the race, when I checked my account to see how much I had won, I had two trifectas on that race one of which included the scratched horse as I mentioned above. When I check now I only had one, 2 3 8. Maybe I looked at race 3 immediately under which includes the number 5 which was the scratched horse in R2, or details on my account changed which would be outright fraud and most unlikely. In any case it is still a hard luck story as I intended and thought I had taken the winning combo. Sorry if this bores or confuses but I had to get this down before now forgetting about it.
The power was off at the house due to the storm when we arrived but was soon restored. We did a little shop and watched the news before a roast dinner to celebrate the 4 of us eating together, not a common thing since Rob moved out. The house swayed on its pylons as the wind blew strong well into the night and the sea roared in the distance.
The dogs locked in the laundry below woke me whining and yipping at 5.45am as dawn showed itself. It's Pip that makes the noise, Snow would wait in patient silence. I fed and released them and read my book for a couple of hours before getting Lib breakfast. The book, 'The Reprieve' by Jean Paul Sartre was one I took home from the Lakes house when I was last there a couple of months ago. I wanted to finish it to so that I could leave it this time. It was a book I found difficult to read and I was so distracted by so many things over those weeks that I couldn't really warm to it. It was set over about 4 days in 1938 in France as the powers of the day met to decide on war or peace over the territorial dispute in Czechoslovakia. It followed the tensions of French citizens in a highly charged expectation of war and mobilization. It did capture something of the mood of the day but would have stronger meaning to someone who lived through that time I'm sure. The title 'The Reprieve' was so because peace won the day, which was short lived of course as we know. I think the book explored the human emotions in the expectation of war, the excitement and hysteria it provokes and the almost self fulfilling momentum that builds with it. I must ask Maria about it. I don't think I quite got it.
As if by magician's wand the wind had stopped and the sea was calm as a lake. The day, Friday, was warm, sunny and still and Gord and I cut all the grass. Saturday the gale returned and blew angrily all day. We had a barbecued whole schnapper for lunch with salad which was the highlight of the day. Regretably Hawthorn won the premiership, as if you didn't know, which capped off what was a miserable year's AFL footy for me.
Sunday the magician was at work again and the weather was still and perfect. I did some painting and tied up a section of side fence that was nearly collapsed by the gale and slashed some ti tree which had grown on the steep bank behind the house with the metal blade on the whipper. I washed the Kangoo, tied the ladder on the roof rack and packed in the tools and Gord and Rob drove home in it Sunday arvo. Lib and I stayed on with the dogs and came home yesterday after cleaning the house, leaving at 11am and reaching Gembrook at 2.30pm with a stop at Tyers, this time tavelling the back way from Myrtlebank to Moe.
A good weekend except for the footy result but who cares anyway. Sadly I had hard luck punting story. Lib, who usually does not participate, asked me to put trifectas on numbers 2,3 and 5. I did, at Caulfield and Coleraine. I'd asked her what number to substitute if there was a scratching, she said 8. I was using Rob's laptop which I was unfamiliar with as there was no mouse making me awkward and slow and a little impatient. In race 2 at Coleraine number 5 was a scratching, so I substituted 8. Not knowing where to put 8, either in numerical sequence or in place of 5, I did both, at fifty cents each, which is what I put on trifectas. At least I thought I did. Number 2 won at 50/1 and the numbers 2,8,3 paid $4800 for $1, so my collect for 50 cents should have been $2400........ BUT......... when I checked I had taken 2,3,8 and 2,5,8. I had mistakenly taken the scratched horse in my haste.* No Collect.
The mad wind thrashed again last night when we got home. The power went out and was off all day. It's calm outside now. The forecast is again for gales tomorrow. Weird weather, even for spring. to change so quickly and often.
* I make a correction (3 OCT). After thinking about this lying in bed it occurred to me that you shouldn't be able to back a scratched horse so I tried to today and you can't. My recollection is that 10 minutes after the race, when I checked my account to see how much I had won, I had two trifectas on that race one of which included the scratched horse as I mentioned above. When I check now I only had one, 2 3 8. Maybe I looked at race 3 immediately under which includes the number 5 which was the scratched horse in R2, or details on my account changed which would be outright fraud and most unlikely. In any case it is still a hard luck story as I intended and thought I had taken the winning combo. Sorry if this bores or confuses but I had to get this down before now forgetting about it.
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