A Poem... ANZAC Day

Dulce et Decorum est

Bent Double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime.-
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile incurable sores on innocent tongues,-
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie; Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Wilfred Owen

Notes on Dulce et Decorum Est

1.  DULCE ET DECORUM EST - the first words of a Latin saying (taken from an ode by Horace). The words were widely understood and often quoted at the start of the First World War. They mean "It is sweet and right." The full saying ends the poem: Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori - it is sweet and right to die for your country. In other words, it is a wonderful and great honour to fight and die for your country.

Footytips Tip Nine

After 3 rounds I'm level pegging on 15 with arch rival and good friend Rickyralph, this after he picked 9 winners last weekend to my 7. Gord is leading our comp with 19 and Lib is second with 16.

The round was the first week in which the favourites were obvious and came in too. Indeed in my comp with the VAA beekeepers I also tipped nine.  I varied in our home comp by picking St Kilda in the Friday night game, thinking there would probably be an upset or two and the Saints had been in pretty good form in the first two games, and I took Nth Melbourne over Port Adelaide in the closest to even money game of the round.

The bad news is I put $2 on the 9 game multi with the Saints and Nth, for a $2 loss. The good news is I put $10 on the other, Rickyralph's, for a collect of $94.

But it wasn't all plain sailing for the weekend. I heard a tipster on the radio say that a nag at Mt Gambier in race 3 was (at $2 for $1) like money in the bank. So I thought I'd have a bit of that and hurriedly put on $10 before I left to go to the Pave poetry competition on Sunday afternoon. My account balance went down $20 and I realized I'd ticked the win/place box and had also stupidly put on $10 a place at the return of 1 for $1. Nevermind I thought, I'll get it back. I listened to the race as I drove. The nag ran 4th. Money in the bank like hell!

A Walk and a Talk

I went for a walk last Monday, first time for a few weeks. It was a joyful experience. Along the way at a point where I let Pip off the lead in a safe section I whistled to her as she explored front yards, just so she kept tuned into me and didn't dilly dally too much.

A man heard my whistle and approached to say hello. I hadn't seen him for many months but I have talked to him over a number of years. I won't mention his name as the story I'm about to tell divulges some misfortune he has had, but also has a beautiful element which is the reason I'm telling it.

I'm trying to think of a fictitious name but anything I think of just does not seem right, as his real name does, so I'll labour on with the story using no names. This man has had Parkinson's disease for many years, 15 I think he has told me. He would be younger than me I'd say, perhaps by a decade but I may be wrong there. He has at times seemed so crook that it would not have surprised me if it had claimed him by now. He walked up to me surprisingly quickly and commented on the lovely morning then said he'd not seen me for a while.

I told him I hadn't walked much for many months because I'd been crook and gave him a bit of a rundown. He then told me how well he was going. He said he had to wait ten years for an operation but it had worked. When I asked him what sort of op he said on his brain. He has electrodes in his brain and multiple copper wires from them to other parts and his face, not visible of course. He had to slow down his speech or I struggled to understand him. He said he was now taking no medication and was the better for it, the operation on his brain seemed to be doing its job. But, he added, he has to make sure he doesn't get tazered by the police or apparently it will kill him quickly by upsetting the electrodes and effectively frying his brain from the inside.

Pip came up to us and he said what a good little dog she was, and asked me where the other one was. I told him Snow had passed on, killed by a big dog. He was visibly upset by this. He then mentioned a name, saying that she/he was 17 years old now. I thought he was talking about his daughter.

(He had told me he had three kids from a marriage that was long dissolved. His ex wife lives locally, I have known her for a number of years and consider her a friend, but never realized they had been married and produced the three children until a couple of years ago on my walk I saw her car outside his house picking up the children, and saw his eldest daughter coming and going from his house on foot on occasion. I have seen the children as they have grown up, of course from some distance, and I recall seeing mum and talking to her when she had one child in a pusher and another on her back in a harness. Time flies. I don't want to sound like a nosy parker but I was genuinely surprised when two people I had known separately for years turned out to have been married. When you walk regularly you observe things. I don't think I have spoken to either of them about the union, nor anyone one else, before now anonymously.)

But the man said when I asked did he mean his daughter was 17, that no, he was talking about his old dog. He said he was going to get another one soon as he will be very upset when his old dog dies. I asked him how old his eldest daughter was and said that she was indeed a beautiful girl. He told me her age and said she was beautiful from birth, and happy.

"When she slipped from her mother her eyes were wide open and she had a smile on her face. Some people are just born that way."

That is what he said to me, as I recall it best I can. It just struck me as beautiful and something I wanted to record and pass on.

Medical Update

Last Wednesday I had an appointment with the rheumatologist, this being two months after my previous visit in February when he told me my inflammatory reading on my blood tests had returned to the high levels of twelve months earlier. "This disease has really got a hold on you," he said. In February he had increased my dose of the methotrextate (the second increase, which doubled it from my initial starting point), and also increased the cortisone, saying, "We have to get the inflammation down again, if it hasn't improved in 6-8 weeks we'll have to introduce another medication for you in addition to the methotrextate."

Naturally this was not good news but it wasn't surprising as I had been in increasing pain and discomfort in the weeks leading up to that consultation. But it was not all bad, my liver function was fine and there were no noticeable side effects to the MT either.

This time the news was better. My inflammation levels were down by a third and I was feeling much better too. My liver function was fine again and he left me on the same dosages saying that he expected the results would continue improving to my next appt which is June 3.

Easter came and went. We had some lovely April weather, it is a beautiful time of year with the stillness, the autumn colour and the awareness that the heat of summer and the threat of bushfire has gone till next summer. I had a quiet restful few days yet still did some good work at the farm and at home.The only downer I can think of was the roaring, screaming, droning of motor bikes (different bikes make different noise but it sounds like the riders ride them in a manner to maximize the noise) for nearly all day up and down Launching Place road. It seems the great Australian pastime is now to joy ride on motor bikes on weekends and public holidays. I find it incredible how many there are.

Good Friday

Easter is upon us. I'm not into the chocolate egg thing. What about the execution and resurrection of Christ?

It always gave me the heebeejeebees as a kid, the crucifiction, the nails through the hands and the spear in the side. As an adult now, quite an old one, I'm pretty well unaffected by violence, having been exposed to many forms of it through the media and society for most of my life. I ignore shit really and try to focus on positive things.

So the resurrection, yes, good stuff. It's good thinking, that Christ died for us so that we sinners can be forgiven and have everlasting life, after death. I hope it's true, and I hope I make the cut. I don't get around singing hymns and preaching psalms but I try to live with good Christian virtue.

The Jehovah's Witness people that come here tell me I need to do more to be granted salvation. The Jewish people don't believe Christ existed. The Catholics say you need to go to confession. I'm not sure what Islam says, nor the hindus and budhists, then there's all manner of other sects.

As I see it everyone has the right to believe what they believe, and God is the ultimate judge. Yes I do believe in God. I believe there's much we do not know, about the past, the present and the future, and I hope and pray that the mystery of life and death I will one day understand, even if I have to wait till after death.

Death is a human certainty. Beyond it, I'm uncertain. I can think and believe what I like but it is uncertain. Tomorrow is uncertain. Anything can happen. The saying "Live like there's no tomorrow" can be taken in more ways than one, but I like it.

That's why I like to plant trees. I planted three last week, on our property at Gembrook. Two were eucalypts given to me by my friend Nat who lives in Melbourne, just before Christmas. They were seedlings she potted up, progeny of a big tree in her neighbour's garden. I watered them through summer, always looking around for somewhere to plant them, thinking of the farm or people I could give them to where they would have a good home. They were getting way too big for the pot. I walked around our property and finally found places for them, quite close to each other among other mature eucies but where there was a gap in the canopy and they will get good sun.

The third tree was a rewarewa, or NZ honey suckle that I got as a seedling from Nobelius Park, which is also in the rainforest and it's tall upright form will be perfect.They will be youthful additions to what I call our rainforest and I'll get great pleasure watching them grow. It is uncertain how long we will live here, or in fact how long I will live at all.

So is it "Live like there's no tomorrow?" Or, "Live like there's always tomorrow?"

I'll keep planting things, everywhere I can.