Gord bought a bottle of tropical fruit at Aldi recently. Lib packed it in our pantry box and we've enjoyed it with yoghurt for breakfast this past couple of mornings. We all commented on what a pleasant change it was from the usual peaches, pears, apples. It contained pineapple, red and yellow papaya, guava and passionfruit juice according to the label and it sparked my memory of our visit to Dave Dickson at Charters Towers last year.
Dave's a keen gardener, if of the bush variety, and has surrounded his house with fruit trees and gets about the cattle station sowing pumpkin and melon seeds in strategic places after rain. We were in the garden talking about the Brahman cattle that, along with wild pigs, eat most of his pumpkins and melons, when Dave made an interesting comment.
"These cattle are not much good really. I reckon the country around here'd be better for growing pumpkins and melons and fruit trees than rearin' cattle."
The comment came back to me recently during the live cattle export controversy. Maybe Dave has a point. On the one hand we have millions of cattle roaming about big stations in our north, doing a great deal of environmental damage if you accept what conservationists say, with no value according to landowners if they can't be exported live for the meat trade, which in turn devalues the land; on the other hand we have thousands of refugees who have no place to live trying desperately to get to Australia risking death and detention.
Could it be possible that there's land somewhere up there in the north that could be used to settle these refugees and give them a home and an opportunity to grow food and perhaps enhance our country and it's land use?
Just a thought that came to me after enjoying breakfast. Politicians are always on about growing Australia. The growth may be better in the far north where there's a fairly reliable wet season than further reducing good farm land in the south with residential development and building desal plants to cater.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
The Rain Tumbled Down in July
We took the back way, turning off the Princes Freeway at the second Moe turn off, past the power station at Yallourn North, then, after stopping at Tyers to make sure the dogs hadn't had an accident because of a dreadful odour in the car, and refuelling, we skirted through Glengarry and Nambrok and picked up the highway east of Sale. It's probably further in distance but a far more pleasant drive through rich farming country with hardly another car to contend with, and no cops or cameras.
It was a good feeling, being on holiday and cruising into Bairnsdale knowing there was only half an hour to go to get to Lakes Entrance, where we've gone every year for the last thirty to stay in Lib's family's holiday house. It's a comfortable old friend. Leaving Bairnsdale the light rain that had just started became heavier and the visibilty ahead deteriorated.
"Look at that ahead," I said to Lib, "We're heading right into some really heavy stuff."
Reaching the house the rain was still heavy. The roof was leaking in the hall so a pot was put there to catch the drip. It rained on and off through the night.
I walked this morning to Lake Bunga, coming back along the beach, then cutting across the golf course. A chestnut brown hawk with a damaged wing ran up and down the fence next to the sewage farm trying to avoid swooping magpies. An omen perhaps? A penguin flapped its wings helplessly on the beach as I (and the dogs) approached trying to get to the water. It couldn't stand up or walk. I watched a wave wash over it, thinking it would swim away, but it didn't, it struggled to get back out of the water. Not knowing how to help either hawk or penguin I walked on having decided my interference would probably not be helpful in the scheme of things. Many times I have wished I was skilled or trained in helping injured wildlife.
Both beach and golf course were deserted. Mother Ocean growled and heaved her protest at dirty brown water assaulting from the land. The golf course was spotted with pools and puddles. The rain started again. I had an umbrella and good boots, the dogs were saturated but unconcerned.
After breakfast I sat looking at the rain through the window, which Robbie describes as an 'East Coast Low'. He studies the weather charts on his lap top, which I've borrowed to do this post. He says it extends from here to Sydney and brings weather from the east, usually with extended periods of rain.
The rain doesn't worry me, so long as there are some breaks in it so I can walk. I'm on holiday. For months I've run around finding this and that and responding to what the phone dictates. Now I have some magical days of freedom to admire and enjoy the world around me and every waking and sleeping minute.
It was a good feeling, being on holiday and cruising into Bairnsdale knowing there was only half an hour to go to get to Lakes Entrance, where we've gone every year for the last thirty to stay in Lib's family's holiday house. It's a comfortable old friend. Leaving Bairnsdale the light rain that had just started became heavier and the visibilty ahead deteriorated.
"Look at that ahead," I said to Lib, "We're heading right into some really heavy stuff."
Reaching the house the rain was still heavy. The roof was leaking in the hall so a pot was put there to catch the drip. It rained on and off through the night.
I walked this morning to Lake Bunga, coming back along the beach, then cutting across the golf course. A chestnut brown hawk with a damaged wing ran up and down the fence next to the sewage farm trying to avoid swooping magpies. An omen perhaps? A penguin flapped its wings helplessly on the beach as I (and the dogs) approached trying to get to the water. It couldn't stand up or walk. I watched a wave wash over it, thinking it would swim away, but it didn't, it struggled to get back out of the water. Not knowing how to help either hawk or penguin I walked on having decided my interference would probably not be helpful in the scheme of things. Many times I have wished I was skilled or trained in helping injured wildlife.
Both beach and golf course were deserted. Mother Ocean growled and heaved her protest at dirty brown water assaulting from the land. The golf course was spotted with pools and puddles. The rain started again. I had an umbrella and good boots, the dogs were saturated but unconcerned.
After breakfast I sat looking at the rain through the window, which Robbie describes as an 'East Coast Low'. He studies the weather charts on his lap top, which I've borrowed to do this post. He says it extends from here to Sydney and brings weather from the east, usually with extended periods of rain.
The rain doesn't worry me, so long as there are some breaks in it so I can walk. I'm on holiday. For months I've run around finding this and that and responding to what the phone dictates. Now I have some magical days of freedom to admire and enjoy the world around me and every waking and sleeping minute.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
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
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
Thursday, June 16, 2011
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.
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.
Thursday, June 09, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
No Temporal Arteritis
My appointment with the surgeon in Dandenong today confirmed that I do not have temporal arteritis. He advised me to continue with the cortisone and have a blood test later this week as requested by the rheumatologist, and to see her next Monday as scheduled, as there's a possibility I have polymyalgic rheumatosis. I'm sure I don't, I'm pain free and have felt well for some days since the strange events of last week. I will follow through, another blood test and trip to Dandenong to have the specialist finalize this bizarre episode will not inconvenience me greatly.
I'm grateful to be healthy, and hope I remain so.
I'm grateful to be healthy, and hope I remain so.
Monday, May 23, 2011
The Intricate Tangle
I'm still reading 'War and Peace'. Last week I read that on 2 Sep 1812, as Napoleon's army entered the semi deserted Moscow and spread out starwise and reached the area where Pierre Bezuhof was staying, events found Pierre in a dream like state.
He had left his home two days earlier, "solely to escape the intricate tangle of life's daily demands which held him fast, and which in his present condition he was incapable of unravelling."
That simple description struck me as so pertinent to my own feelings of the past several months and particularly recent days.
After my late night call from the doctor advising me to go to the nearest hospital straight away I have been back the doctor the next day, a rheumatologist the following Monday, a surgeon the next day, and Monash Medical centre last Thursday for bilateral artery biopsy, and I now await tomorrow's appointment with the surgeon to remove the stitches and follow up with rheumatologist next Monday to learn the result of the biopsy.
I feel fit and well but extremely frustrated that I have lost my productivity with all this interruption to my routine and the running around and the considerable expenses (excess and gaps) above my private health insurance cover.
Were it not possible to read my book a little more than usual and run the lovely 'September Song' of Leah Flanagan (whom I discovered recently on U-Tube)through my brain at the most unexpected and perhaps innapropriate of times, I think, like Pierre, I may have bordered insanity. Whereas he resolved to locate and assassinate Napoleon, I think I would have strangled a receptionist or two at the very least.
We do indeed exist in an intricate tangle and are as vulnerable as bad luck would have it.
He had left his home two days earlier, "solely to escape the intricate tangle of life's daily demands which held him fast, and which in his present condition he was incapable of unravelling."
That simple description struck me as so pertinent to my own feelings of the past several months and particularly recent days.
After my late night call from the doctor advising me to go to the nearest hospital straight away I have been back the doctor the next day, a rheumatologist the following Monday, a surgeon the next day, and Monash Medical centre last Thursday for bilateral artery biopsy, and I now await tomorrow's appointment with the surgeon to remove the stitches and follow up with rheumatologist next Monday to learn the result of the biopsy.
I feel fit and well but extremely frustrated that I have lost my productivity with all this interruption to my routine and the running around and the considerable expenses (excess and gaps) above my private health insurance cover.
Were it not possible to read my book a little more than usual and run the lovely 'September Song' of Leah Flanagan (whom I discovered recently on U-Tube)through my brain at the most unexpected and perhaps innapropriate of times, I think, like Pierre, I may have bordered insanity. Whereas he resolved to locate and assassinate Napoleon, I think I would have strangled a receptionist or two at the very least.
We do indeed exist in an intricate tangle and are as vulnerable as bad luck would have it.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
A Quiet Week Please? Not Likely
With the Mother's Day thing over for another year I was looking for a quiet peaceful week but it was not to be. I'm short of time so I'll use a copy of an email I just wrote to a friend to explain.
Thanks Pat,
I've had no severe pain since the episode after my doctor visit on Wednesday and after sleeping most of that afternoon I've felt quite well. Doctor took more blood tests Thursday am, after saying a possibility was 'temporal arterioitis', which can cause sudden blindness if untreated, and I worked Thursday arvo no problems.
That night about 11pm I was preparing to go to bed when the phone rang and another doctor from the clinic in Berwick told me the pathology people had rung to say my tests were done and I should go to casualty at nearest hospital straight away. So I did and was at Ferntree Gully hospital till about 4.30 am where they did more tests and took exrays etc. They said my blood tests had improved, my exrays and other test showed no problem and as it was unlikely I had the TA they sent me home.
Next day, yesterday, I worked in the morning then went to doctor again that afternoon. He agreed with hospital that it was unlikely I had the TA, as I seemed well and pain free but he suggested I keep taking the cortisone tabs and antibiotics the hospital had put me on over the weekend, have more tests on Monday and see him again on Tuesday.
He rang again last night to say he'd sought advice from a specialist who is in the auto immune area and she said TA can behave in the manner that I had exhibited and she could see me on Monday, so I'm going to see her in Dandenong Monday morning. It's all very tiresome now as I feel fine, but I'm happy to follow through on it because the pain I had was unpleasant for a couple of days and terrible for the brief burst, and going blind is not something I would relish.
I'll let you know next week. Thanks for your concern.
Carey
Thanks Pat,
I've had no severe pain since the episode after my doctor visit on Wednesday and after sleeping most of that afternoon I've felt quite well. Doctor took more blood tests Thursday am, after saying a possibility was 'temporal arterioitis', which can cause sudden blindness if untreated, and I worked Thursday arvo no problems.
That night about 11pm I was preparing to go to bed when the phone rang and another doctor from the clinic in Berwick told me the pathology people had rung to say my tests were done and I should go to casualty at nearest hospital straight away. So I did and was at Ferntree Gully hospital till about 4.30 am where they did more tests and took exrays etc. They said my blood tests had improved, my exrays and other test showed no problem and as it was unlikely I had the TA they sent me home.
Next day, yesterday, I worked in the morning then went to doctor again that afternoon. He agreed with hospital that it was unlikely I had the TA, as I seemed well and pain free but he suggested I keep taking the cortisone tabs and antibiotics the hospital had put me on over the weekend, have more tests on Monday and see him again on Tuesday.
He rang again last night to say he'd sought advice from a specialist who is in the auto immune area and she said TA can behave in the manner that I had exhibited and she could see me on Monday, so I'm going to see her in Dandenong Monday morning. It's all very tiresome now as I feel fine, but I'm happy to follow through on it because the pain I had was unpleasant for a couple of days and terrible for the brief burst, and going blind is not something I would relish.
I'll let you know next week. Thanks for your concern.
Carey
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Fair Dinkum, I'm Flabbergasted (2)
On Friday 29 April I came home after a busy day. Our overseas visitors were still with us and before I hit the bathtub I checked my email. I'd had an appointment that afternoon with the local State MP at 3.30pm re drainage issues in Nobelius Park, and learned at 2.00pm when I went home to pick up some paperwork that something had come up and the meeting had been cancelled. I had been rushing to get things done in order to make the meeting, and I also learned from the answering machine that a late foliage order had come in, one our customers was obviously preparing early for Mother's Day. I switched from meeting mode to picking mode and struggled through, arriving home feeling like a truck had run over me after a testing week.
There were several emails as is the norm these days, including one from the politician's secretary asking me ring to have the meeting rescheduled. The email on top, sent only a short time earlier, was from a name I didn't recognize but was vaguely familiar. It was from Barry and Lesley, and the subject was 'Google is Amazing'.
You could have knocked me over with a feather. In the email Lesley explained she had found a box containing letters from me during a clean up at her house and out of curiosity she put 'Carey Williams' into google and found herself reading my blog. This was the first she had heard of me for 33 years and her email to me was ditto for me.
How come Lesley had letters from me in a box in her house? Late in January 1974, aged 21, I caught a train with Ricky Ralph at Spencer St. We travelled to Brisbane where we separated, he flying to Mt. Isa or somewhere enroute his return to a cattle station where he'd worked as a jackeroo, I enroute to Qld Ag College at Gatton where I had enrolled. I called in to visit an aunt who lived in Brisbane where I stayed for a weekend. For most of the time I was there it rained heavily, the Brisbane River flooded so I was stuck in Brisbane for sometime, before getting to the Ag. College and starting the academic year, a year that was pivotal and for me a lot of reasons, not the least of which was that I made great friends in Dave Suters and Dave Dickson who have both have played roles in my life, and that I was to learn about beekeeping, a wonderful opportunity.
I also met Lesley. I don't understand these things fully but if I said I "fell in love" I don't think I'd be wrong. Maybe "had a crush" would be a better term, or "infatuated". I realize it's part of being human. We didn't have a romantic relationship, Lesley had a boyfriend (Barry), and I accepted she was not available, although my affection didn't diminish. The beekeeping students (3 only) sat in on other classes for things like entomology, botany and business studies and I was in Lesley's entomology class and recall being her prac partner once which had me in quite a state of concealed excitement and agitation.
I returned to Victoria at the end of 1974 and wrote to Lesley in 1975 knowing that she was again at the college doing the third year of a Diploma in rural technology, if my memory serves me correctly. We became pen pals and corresponded for a few years until about 1978 when I stopped writing after she and Barry married. She sent me a piece of wedding cake. I think I'd secretly hoped their romance would not last, and perhaps I was a little piqued. Around that time there was much happening in my life.
Letter writing was common back then. The was no email or mobile phones or texting so people actually sat down and wrote to each other and waited for a reply which may come in some days or weeks depending on the circumstances of the recipient. I was always a keen letter writer, until recent times, now it seems blogging satisfies the urge.
I last saw Lesley on Fraser Island. Dave Suters and I drove to Qld., I think in Feb 1978. We were stopped on the beach for some reason and a Landcruiser coming along stopped to see if we were OK. Amazingly the occupants were Barry and Lesley.
Last October when Lib and I were on Magnetic Island, while walking along the beach, I wondered at that remote coincidence and about Lesley and what her life had been, regretting that I'd stopped writing and wouldn't see or hear of her again. I felt genuine sorrow about it. And now, totally unexpectedly, I have contact again.
I replied to Lesley's email briefly saying how amazed and delighted I was to hear from her and asking for some news of the last 33 years when she had time. A second email came with some news and a great family photo. Looking at it puts a big smile on my dial, so does just thinking about it. I have miraculously found my pen pal again, 37 years after we met, in another record flood year.
Take care Lesley and Barry. Thank you Blogger.
There were several emails as is the norm these days, including one from the politician's secretary asking me ring to have the meeting rescheduled. The email on top, sent only a short time earlier, was from a name I didn't recognize but was vaguely familiar. It was from Barry and Lesley, and the subject was 'Google is Amazing'.
You could have knocked me over with a feather. In the email Lesley explained she had found a box containing letters from me during a clean up at her house and out of curiosity she put 'Carey Williams' into google and found herself reading my blog. This was the first she had heard of me for 33 years and her email to me was ditto for me.
How come Lesley had letters from me in a box in her house? Late in January 1974, aged 21, I caught a train with Ricky Ralph at Spencer St. We travelled to Brisbane where we separated, he flying to Mt. Isa or somewhere enroute his return to a cattle station where he'd worked as a jackeroo, I enroute to Qld Ag College at Gatton where I had enrolled. I called in to visit an aunt who lived in Brisbane where I stayed for a weekend. For most of the time I was there it rained heavily, the Brisbane River flooded so I was stuck in Brisbane for sometime, before getting to the Ag. College and starting the academic year, a year that was pivotal and for me a lot of reasons, not the least of which was that I made great friends in Dave Suters and Dave Dickson who have both have played roles in my life, and that I was to learn about beekeeping, a wonderful opportunity.
I also met Lesley. I don't understand these things fully but if I said I "fell in love" I don't think I'd be wrong. Maybe "had a crush" would be a better term, or "infatuated". I realize it's part of being human. We didn't have a romantic relationship, Lesley had a boyfriend (Barry), and I accepted she was not available, although my affection didn't diminish. The beekeeping students (3 only) sat in on other classes for things like entomology, botany and business studies and I was in Lesley's entomology class and recall being her prac partner once which had me in quite a state of concealed excitement and agitation.
I returned to Victoria at the end of 1974 and wrote to Lesley in 1975 knowing that she was again at the college doing the third year of a Diploma in rural technology, if my memory serves me correctly. We became pen pals and corresponded for a few years until about 1978 when I stopped writing after she and Barry married. She sent me a piece of wedding cake. I think I'd secretly hoped their romance would not last, and perhaps I was a little piqued. Around that time there was much happening in my life.
Letter writing was common back then. The was no email or mobile phones or texting so people actually sat down and wrote to each other and waited for a reply which may come in some days or weeks depending on the circumstances of the recipient. I was always a keen letter writer, until recent times, now it seems blogging satisfies the urge.
I last saw Lesley on Fraser Island. Dave Suters and I drove to Qld., I think in Feb 1978. We were stopped on the beach for some reason and a Landcruiser coming along stopped to see if we were OK. Amazingly the occupants were Barry and Lesley.
Last October when Lib and I were on Magnetic Island, while walking along the beach, I wondered at that remote coincidence and about Lesley and what her life had been, regretting that I'd stopped writing and wouldn't see or hear of her again. I felt genuine sorrow about it. And now, totally unexpectedly, I have contact again.
I replied to Lesley's email briefly saying how amazed and delighted I was to hear from her and asking for some news of the last 33 years when she had time. A second email came with some news and a great family photo. Looking at it puts a big smile on my dial, so does just thinking about it. I have miraculously found my pen pal again, 37 years after we met, in another record flood year.
Take care Lesley and Barry. Thank you Blogger.
Friday, May 06, 2011
Fair Dinkum, I'm Flabbergasted
Somehow I managed to go through a whole month without putting finger to keyboard (to blog) for the first time I think since I started blogging. To my friends who may have checked me for news I apologize.
April was an eventful month but is somewhat blurred already in my ageing faculties. Early in the month I spent a weekend extracting honey, spare time was spent on the end of a spade or fork trying to get some garden beds ready for autumn sowing, finally some work in Nobelius Park started to happen which took what was left of my remaining energy in order to co-ordinate it, and along the way I hardly had time to have a conversation with Lib except for Easter when we went to Wangaratta to see Molly from Friday to Sunday (which included some serious cutting back in Moll's garden). When we arrived back Sunday Ian Sinclair and his son were at our house having arrived on the Saturday after travelling from W.A. They stayed for a week, leaving last Saturday when I took them to the airport to fly back to Canada.
Ian wanted me to go to the football with him, he hadn't been for about 20 years so we went on the Tuesday after Easter Monday to Hawthorn/ Geelong at MCG. Pretty ordinary game I thought but without my team in it I may have been too uninvolved emotionally. Geelong was far too good for them and impressed me as a seriously good team still.
So Easter was a wipe out as far as an opportunity to catch up on work. C'est La Vie! But I haven't yet mentioned what flabbergasted me and I'm out of time so if the above is mundane believe me the next post won't be as I'll cut straight to the chase.
April was an eventful month but is somewhat blurred already in my ageing faculties. Early in the month I spent a weekend extracting honey, spare time was spent on the end of a spade or fork trying to get some garden beds ready for autumn sowing, finally some work in Nobelius Park started to happen which took what was left of my remaining energy in order to co-ordinate it, and along the way I hardly had time to have a conversation with Lib except for Easter when we went to Wangaratta to see Molly from Friday to Sunday (which included some serious cutting back in Moll's garden). When we arrived back Sunday Ian Sinclair and his son were at our house having arrived on the Saturday after travelling from W.A. They stayed for a week, leaving last Saturday when I took them to the airport to fly back to Canada.
Ian wanted me to go to the football with him, he hadn't been for about 20 years so we went on the Tuesday after Easter Monday to Hawthorn/ Geelong at MCG. Pretty ordinary game I thought but without my team in it I may have been too uninvolved emotionally. Geelong was far too good for them and impressed me as a seriously good team still.
So Easter was a wipe out as far as an opportunity to catch up on work. C'est La Vie! But I haven't yet mentioned what flabbergasted me and I'm out of time so if the above is mundane believe me the next post won't be as I'll cut straight to the chase.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Back of Boort
I bumped into Herbie Lamble in the supermarket the other day. Herb and his wife Vickie run a tour business and travel all over the place. He told me Vickie is in New Zealand with a tour at the moment and he was in Western Victoria with the bus last week. He said he couldn't believe what he saw. There's ancient lake beds there that haven't had water in them since the 1800's. He said you looked out over vast areas of water that for more than a hundred years till recently was farmland. Hay shed rooves, grain bins etc, stick up out of the water. Apparently it may take these lakes up to ten years to dry up again now that there full.
I had a phone call from Ian Sinlair whose was at the Warrumbungles in NSW. Everything's going fine including Lib's car, except he's had some bad news, a real dampener on his trip. His wife Elke who is in Canada with their ten yo son Jethro wants to split with him. What a bugger to learn of while he and his older son are away for 3 months in Australia. He was still planning to get to WA and be back mid April to go to the footy with me before he flies home. I'm hoping by then he and Elke have reconciled but it would be difficult to achieve you'd think while on different sides of the world.
Dicko rang me from 'Percy Springs' near Charter's Towers. They've had a heap of rain and couldn't get into town as has often been the case this season, but their house which they have lovingly restored did not flood. Dave said cyclone Yasey was fearful in noise but they had no damage to the house, the worst of it being further south. Dave said he thought all the birds would be blown away to WA. There was none to be seen after the cyclone passed except for a few dead ducks smashed up along the fence, but within 24 hours the birds were all back as if nothing had happened. How they survive such a massive storm has Dave tossed, and I sure don't know. It's a miracle of nature.
I've been so busy with farm and park and museum stuff that I feel my life is reaching ruination or crisis point.
Not much time for writing reading or clear thinking. I'm almost over the immediate hump and should make a better fist of things shortly. Ricky Ralph tipped 8 in the first round of the footy ( we pay both teams when there's a draw) and has jumped me by three. What a tinny bastard he is to score on those two come from behind last kick victories.
I had a phone call from Ian Sinlair whose was at the Warrumbungles in NSW. Everything's going fine including Lib's car, except he's had some bad news, a real dampener on his trip. His wife Elke who is in Canada with their ten yo son Jethro wants to split with him. What a bugger to learn of while he and his older son are away for 3 months in Australia. He was still planning to get to WA and be back mid April to go to the footy with me before he flies home. I'm hoping by then he and Elke have reconciled but it would be difficult to achieve you'd think while on different sides of the world.
Dicko rang me from 'Percy Springs' near Charter's Towers. They've had a heap of rain and couldn't get into town as has often been the case this season, but their house which they have lovingly restored did not flood. Dave said cyclone Yasey was fearful in noise but they had no damage to the house, the worst of it being further south. Dave said he thought all the birds would be blown away to WA. There was none to be seen after the cyclone passed except for a few dead ducks smashed up along the fence, but within 24 hours the birds were all back as if nothing had happened. How they survive such a massive storm has Dave tossed, and I sure don't know. It's a miracle of nature.
I've been so busy with farm and park and museum stuff that I feel my life is reaching ruination or crisis point.
Not much time for writing reading or clear thinking. I'm almost over the immediate hump and should make a better fist of things shortly. Ricky Ralph tipped 8 in the first round of the footy ( we pay both teams when there's a draw) and has jumped me by three. What a tinny bastard he is to score on those two come from behind last kick victories.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
A Quick Update
There hasn't been much free time to post on my blog and I'm not going into a lengthy excuse. But I have to tell you this. I had breakfast with Lib in 'The Two Buoys' cafe at Dromana last Sunday morning. The food was sensational.
We'd been to a wedding the day before, that of Nicholas and Brook Harkins held at the Montalta Winery at Red Hill. Nick and Brook met as teenagers at Emerald Secondary College some eleven years and began a romance that endures. A bit like Lib and me (we are still on our honeymoon), although we met long after our school years. The setting, the food, the wine, and the happiness of the participants and guests made for a memorable occasion.
I was hung over in the morning after our overnight stay at the less than grand Safety Beach Motor Lodge which has seen better days but did the job. I blame my hangover on the superb Montalta shiraz which was so good, and in plentiful supply, that I sipped, drank, and then quoffed. Good wine is there to be enjoyed.
The menu at 'The Two Buoys' didn't inspire me, all I wanted to do really was get home and take the honey off the beehive at 'Sunset' that I missed last time and extract it by sundown. So I went for something I'd not heard of before, I think it was 'Heurvos Rancheros', for which there was no more info. I was surprised and pleased, it was spinach, fried eggs, jalapenos, salsa, on a fritter of tortilla or something. The spice and lots of cold water blew away the hangover. Lib had a mushroom omelet with truffle flavouring which she said was superb.
To John and Raylene who are our very good friends, parents of the groom, who now reside at Mt. Martha, I say, "GET YOURSELVES DOWN TO 'THE TWO BUOYS' ONE SUNDAY MORNING."
Breakfast was followed by a stroll along the Dromana jetty watching people catch garfish. We were home in the early afternoon and the weather held enabling me to get the honey off and extracted.
We'd been to a wedding the day before, that of Nicholas and Brook Harkins held at the Montalta Winery at Red Hill. Nick and Brook met as teenagers at Emerald Secondary College some eleven years and began a romance that endures. A bit like Lib and me (we are still on our honeymoon), although we met long after our school years. The setting, the food, the wine, and the happiness of the participants and guests made for a memorable occasion.
I was hung over in the morning after our overnight stay at the less than grand Safety Beach Motor Lodge which has seen better days but did the job. I blame my hangover on the superb Montalta shiraz which was so good, and in plentiful supply, that I sipped, drank, and then quoffed. Good wine is there to be enjoyed.
The menu at 'The Two Buoys' didn't inspire me, all I wanted to do really was get home and take the honey off the beehive at 'Sunset' that I missed last time and extract it by sundown. So I went for something I'd not heard of before, I think it was 'Heurvos Rancheros', for which there was no more info. I was surprised and pleased, it was spinach, fried eggs, jalapenos, salsa, on a fritter of tortilla or something. The spice and lots of cold water blew away the hangover. Lib had a mushroom omelet with truffle flavouring which she said was superb.
To John and Raylene who are our very good friends, parents of the groom, who now reside at Mt. Martha, I say, "GET YOURSELVES DOWN TO 'THE TWO BUOYS' ONE SUNDAY MORNING."
Breakfast was followed by a stroll along the Dromana jetty watching people catch garfish. We were home in the early afternoon and the weather held enabling me to get the honey off and extracted.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Gembrook Park Drainage
I attended a public meeting today which was called to discuss the storm water damage caused by the housing developments to the north of the park. Erosion in the gully has increased as the flow of the water has with more houses built and the drained area enlarged, by the piping of storm water, to the one outfall at the head of the gully. There are many more houses yet to be built so it will increase.
This erosion has been of great concern to the Gembrook Park Friends group for several years. Installation of a water retarding basin where this outfall occurs was a requirement on the developers by the Cardinia Council planning permit system. It hasn't worked from day one. The pipe going out at the bottom is too large and the water is funneled straight down the gully whenever rain makes the pipes flow.
Council has argued that the retarding basin is there for the 'big rain' event. We had in early Feb what the consulting engineer suggested today was a one in a hundred year storm, maintaining the basin would have done its job. A member of the Friends Group who visited on the Saturday morning immediately after the rain said there was no water in it and no sign that it had filled up at all eg flattened vegetation.
The engineer outlined possible action options-
1. Deepen the basin and reduce the size of the outfall pipe. Cost $90,000
2. Install a rock chute, designed strategically to slow the water and allow regeneration, a couple of metres wide, down into the park to where the gully floor or creek bed is less steep and more stable. Cost $190,000.
3. Divert water from basin to Pakenham Rd by means of a pipe all the way to the Cockatoo Creek. Cost $490,000
4. Build a series of litter pits at points along the drainage system before the water from the various pipes reaches the retarding basin (which doesn't retard). Cost $250,000.
This is all from memory so there may be some inaccuracy in my figures but the meeting was minuted by a council person and I will receive a copy soon.
The environment guy and the engineer from council preferred option no.2. Most of the people present who were mainly Gembrook Park people but also some others, voted for option 3, saying option 4 should also happen later. Now it's a question of funding.
This appalling situation is a stuff up of the greatest magnitude. The Gembrook Bushland Park is in my opinion the best thing about the town. Its degradation by housing development is a tragedy, and I can only hope somehow the authorities that charge rates ie Council and YVWater, along with the State Government, can find the funds to put it right.
I remember writing to Premier Jeff Kennett, before a road or house had been constructed, suggesting that the land north of the park should not be developed for housing but should be planted out with trees as a buffer to the Gembrook Park. A reply came from the head of a department saying the land had already been rezoned residential and the Gov't had finished its buy back program of private land in the state.
Who knows where this will end? After seeing the ineffectiveness of the Water Sensitive Urban Drainage scheme through Nobelius Park in Emerald, after a cost of $500,000, I'm not confident of a resolution.
This erosion has been of great concern to the Gembrook Park Friends group for several years. Installation of a water retarding basin where this outfall occurs was a requirement on the developers by the Cardinia Council planning permit system. It hasn't worked from day one. The pipe going out at the bottom is too large and the water is funneled straight down the gully whenever rain makes the pipes flow.
Council has argued that the retarding basin is there for the 'big rain' event. We had in early Feb what the consulting engineer suggested today was a one in a hundred year storm, maintaining the basin would have done its job. A member of the Friends Group who visited on the Saturday morning immediately after the rain said there was no water in it and no sign that it had filled up at all eg flattened vegetation.
The engineer outlined possible action options-
1. Deepen the basin and reduce the size of the outfall pipe. Cost $90,000
2. Install a rock chute, designed strategically to slow the water and allow regeneration, a couple of metres wide, down into the park to where the gully floor or creek bed is less steep and more stable. Cost $190,000.
3. Divert water from basin to Pakenham Rd by means of a pipe all the way to the Cockatoo Creek. Cost $490,000
4. Build a series of litter pits at points along the drainage system before the water from the various pipes reaches the retarding basin (which doesn't retard). Cost $250,000.
This is all from memory so there may be some inaccuracy in my figures but the meeting was minuted by a council person and I will receive a copy soon.
The environment guy and the engineer from council preferred option no.2. Most of the people present who were mainly Gembrook Park people but also some others, voted for option 3, saying option 4 should also happen later. Now it's a question of funding.
This appalling situation is a stuff up of the greatest magnitude. The Gembrook Bushland Park is in my opinion the best thing about the town. Its degradation by housing development is a tragedy, and I can only hope somehow the authorities that charge rates ie Council and YVWater, along with the State Government, can find the funds to put it right.
I remember writing to Premier Jeff Kennett, before a road or house had been constructed, suggesting that the land north of the park should not be developed for housing but should be planted out with trees as a buffer to the Gembrook Park. A reply came from the head of a department saying the land had already been rezoned residential and the Gov't had finished its buy back program of private land in the state.
Who knows where this will end? After seeing the ineffectiveness of the Water Sensitive Urban Drainage scheme through Nobelius Park in Emerald, after a cost of $500,000, I'm not confident of a resolution.
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
Wounded Knee
I'm happy to say that I'm well after another health issue since my last post. The next day was hot. Finding some sprinklers not working at the farm with sufficient pressure I crawled into an mass of overgrown shrub and weed looking for the leaking pipe causing water to spill down a bank and into a neighbour's drive and down the hill. My knee cap twinged painfully.
The next day, suffering some discomfort, I walked with a bit of a limp. Alarmed I was not. The following day, the 21st, I drove to Tullamarine to pick up Ian Sinclair in the morning who was arriving with his son from Canada. Ian is a family friend from right back to Mt. Waverley days and went through primary school and tech school the same year as Jod. I had orders for foliage needing to be be picked that afternoon so after a lunch of salad rolls off I went up the tree. My knee had stiffened somewhat with the drive to the airport and back so it wasn't work I relished.
The climbing aggravated the knee. The legs do the supporting and bracing and balancing while you twist and turn reaching about to cut foliage with the pole cutter or the handsaw. By days end I was in agony and couldn't bend my knee sufficiently to apply the brake so Gord had to drive home. The pain continued right to the end of January so as it turned out, with first my back and then the knee, for about half of January I could barely walk.
Our Canadian visitors stayed till yesterday when they headed off to prospect for gold with a metal detector somewhere in the golden triangle. With the knee and visitors it's been difficult to focus on responsibilities as I normally would. Not that Ian and Culan were demanding, but the computer rooms were converted to bedrooms and the presence of overseas friends has you talking more and thinking business less. Yesterday it was 40C on our deck and I had a Nobelius Park meeting in the afternoon, out of which came plenty for me to do. I get the feeling February will also be tough as I have so much catching up to do.
Finishing on a bright note, I managed a second honey extract last weekend and it was our 30th wedding anniversary on Jan 31, which we celebrated in fine style. Thirty years married. I'm pleased with that. Lib is a wonderful friend and life ally. I'm very lucky.
The next day, suffering some discomfort, I walked with a bit of a limp. Alarmed I was not. The following day, the 21st, I drove to Tullamarine to pick up Ian Sinclair in the morning who was arriving with his son from Canada. Ian is a family friend from right back to Mt. Waverley days and went through primary school and tech school the same year as Jod. I had orders for foliage needing to be be picked that afternoon so after a lunch of salad rolls off I went up the tree. My knee had stiffened somewhat with the drive to the airport and back so it wasn't work I relished.
The climbing aggravated the knee. The legs do the supporting and bracing and balancing while you twist and turn reaching about to cut foliage with the pole cutter or the handsaw. By days end I was in agony and couldn't bend my knee sufficiently to apply the brake so Gord had to drive home. The pain continued right to the end of January so as it turned out, with first my back and then the knee, for about half of January I could barely walk.
Our Canadian visitors stayed till yesterday when they headed off to prospect for gold with a metal detector somewhere in the golden triangle. With the knee and visitors it's been difficult to focus on responsibilities as I normally would. Not that Ian and Culan were demanding, but the computer rooms were converted to bedrooms and the presence of overseas friends has you talking more and thinking business less. Yesterday it was 40C on our deck and I had a Nobelius Park meeting in the afternoon, out of which came plenty for me to do. I get the feeling February will also be tough as I have so much catching up to do.
Finishing on a bright note, I managed a second honey extract last weekend and it was our 30th wedding anniversary on Jan 31, which we celebrated in fine style. Thirty years married. I'm pleased with that. Lib is a wonderful friend and life ally. I'm very lucky.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
More on Doug
After a difficult week nursing my crook back and unbelievable humidity, I can say my recovery is underway. I spent Saturday moving everything out of the tool shed, cleaning it, and moving in the honey extractor and tanks and setting up. Sunday was kind; a perfect, still, sunny day for me to take some honey from the bees and do the extracting thing. None too soon I might add. Some of the honey was already candying on the outside of the combs. It would have been gathered earlier and placed around what would have been brood in the middle of the combs in spring. The fresher honey gathered more recently and placed by the bees where the brood was before, was liquid.
I would guess that about 15% of the honey was left candied in the combs, but at least I have some stickies to put back on the hives for hopefully another fill. There's still another full box on each hive so I have more to do before I can feel too pleased with myself. And of course I have yet to strain, settle and bottle the honey extracted yesterday. The back stood up well to the heavy work. I worked slowly and carefully to avoid further damage.
Of inspiration to me while doing this solo work, was my fond memory of Doug Twaits whom I mentioned in my last post. The extractor I use, and indeed the ancestors of my bees, were Doug's. I first met Doug at a Nobelius Heritage Park annual family picnic day. Gus Ryberg had organized us to supervise the car parking. Gus and Doug had a friendship going back some forty years, having worked together as nurserymen in the early 1950's.
On our car parking duty Doug told me he started a garden on a twelve acre property above the country club soon after he married. He planted many young trees; oak, beech, sequoia, fir, Camellias and others before moving away shortly after. The property stayed in his wife's family and she inherited it at some point I think, if she didn't own it all along. Doug and his wife moved back to Emerald some 35 years after leaving. Doug's wife had cancer and she died soon after. Doug remarried and stayed in Emerald to enjoy and maintain the now mature garden. At this first meeting he gave me his phone number and invited me to ring him and see the garden some time which I did a month or two later.
We toured the garden, I was amazed at the growth of the trees over forty years. The top garden was orchard and roses and in the middle was a beehive that was neglected and rotting. As we walked past Doug said, "You don't know anything about bees do you?"
I hadn't kept bees for a number of years, having sold them and my equipment, frustrated at not having the time to do it properly. Doug added that he'd wanted to keep bees ever since being a POW in Germany where there was a Scottish sergeant who gave lessons in beekeeping. In the prison camp, according to Doug, were people from all walks of life. The Germans let them run educational classes so in the years he was there there were a great many opportunities to learn in subjects that you would have no exposure to in normal life. He'd bought the hive when he moved back to Emerald but had opened it only once or twice before ill health in the form of three heart attacks afflicted him. He had new beehive material and brand new extracting equipment in the shed, never used, but said he'd now lost his confidence to tackle replacing the bees into new material.
So I helped him. We enjoyed building up the hive numbers and producing honey over a few years. By then there was a fair bit of blackberry taking hold around the orchard and so that Doug could clean up properly I moved the bees to my place, temporarily was the intention. They were there for a year or two, I think Doug was pleased to be able to mow through his orchard with the ride on. He sold his property at age 86 looking for less workload, and would have moved to Lakes Entrance in a matter of weeks had he not been killed. Doug's wife Lyn gifted the bees and equipment to me.
Doug was a remarkable man. He loved nature. He gave up pig farming because he loved his pigs and hated selling them for slaughter. He did youth work in regional Victoria. He used his wrestling skills and knowledge of physical fitness to help troubled adolescents, as he had with his inmates in the POW camp. Managing the goldmine in New Guinea he had extraordinary success by ensuring the native workers had good diet and rest. Previous managers had mistreated them with the result that illness and lack of motivation by the workers was a constant problem. As well as a champion wrestler Doug was an all round athlete, winning a major bike race in the 1930's and was an accomplished competitive swimmer. These were popular sports in the 1930's. Later in his working life he established a big nursery out Essendon way and with a mate was the first to do the gardening shows on Melbourne radio on Saturday mornings. He was articulate and intelligent.
Doug was compassionate to the underdog. It was his gentle caring nature that endeared him to people. He was a great friend. He loved a beer and a yarn at the end of the day. My memory of him could not but give me inspiration. In Gus Ryberg's book the Four W's, at Gus's request, Doug gave an account of his wartime experience. Without checking for detail, as I recall his battalion on Crete fought a rear guard against a German army with far superior air support. They ran out of ammunition and were stranded as the British evacuated by ship. This after the Nth. African campaign, a battle in Greece in which Hitler's crack paratroops were decimated, and surviving the sinking of their ship by a fighter bomber. He nearly died of dysentery and exposure on the train trip to Germany in cattle trucks in freezing conditions with no ablutions. He eventually escaped the Stalag toward the end of the war and made his own way to England hitching a ride with an American pilot.
He survived all of that to be claimed on Wellington Road at the Berwick turnoff after what must have been an error of judgment on his part.
I would guess that about 15% of the honey was left candied in the combs, but at least I have some stickies to put back on the hives for hopefully another fill. There's still another full box on each hive so I have more to do before I can feel too pleased with myself. And of course I have yet to strain, settle and bottle the honey extracted yesterday. The back stood up well to the heavy work. I worked slowly and carefully to avoid further damage.
Of inspiration to me while doing this solo work, was my fond memory of Doug Twaits whom I mentioned in my last post. The extractor I use, and indeed the ancestors of my bees, were Doug's. I first met Doug at a Nobelius Heritage Park annual family picnic day. Gus Ryberg had organized us to supervise the car parking. Gus and Doug had a friendship going back some forty years, having worked together as nurserymen in the early 1950's.
On our car parking duty Doug told me he started a garden on a twelve acre property above the country club soon after he married. He planted many young trees; oak, beech, sequoia, fir, Camellias and others before moving away shortly after. The property stayed in his wife's family and she inherited it at some point I think, if she didn't own it all along. Doug and his wife moved back to Emerald some 35 years after leaving. Doug's wife had cancer and she died soon after. Doug remarried and stayed in Emerald to enjoy and maintain the now mature garden. At this first meeting he gave me his phone number and invited me to ring him and see the garden some time which I did a month or two later.
We toured the garden, I was amazed at the growth of the trees over forty years. The top garden was orchard and roses and in the middle was a beehive that was neglected and rotting. As we walked past Doug said, "You don't know anything about bees do you?"
I hadn't kept bees for a number of years, having sold them and my equipment, frustrated at not having the time to do it properly. Doug added that he'd wanted to keep bees ever since being a POW in Germany where there was a Scottish sergeant who gave lessons in beekeeping. In the prison camp, according to Doug, were people from all walks of life. The Germans let them run educational classes so in the years he was there there were a great many opportunities to learn in subjects that you would have no exposure to in normal life. He'd bought the hive when he moved back to Emerald but had opened it only once or twice before ill health in the form of three heart attacks afflicted him. He had new beehive material and brand new extracting equipment in the shed, never used, but said he'd now lost his confidence to tackle replacing the bees into new material.
So I helped him. We enjoyed building up the hive numbers and producing honey over a few years. By then there was a fair bit of blackberry taking hold around the orchard and so that Doug could clean up properly I moved the bees to my place, temporarily was the intention. They were there for a year or two, I think Doug was pleased to be able to mow through his orchard with the ride on. He sold his property at age 86 looking for less workload, and would have moved to Lakes Entrance in a matter of weeks had he not been killed. Doug's wife Lyn gifted the bees and equipment to me.
Doug was a remarkable man. He loved nature. He gave up pig farming because he loved his pigs and hated selling them for slaughter. He did youth work in regional Victoria. He used his wrestling skills and knowledge of physical fitness to help troubled adolescents, as he had with his inmates in the POW camp. Managing the goldmine in New Guinea he had extraordinary success by ensuring the native workers had good diet and rest. Previous managers had mistreated them with the result that illness and lack of motivation by the workers was a constant problem. As well as a champion wrestler Doug was an all round athlete, winning a major bike race in the 1930's and was an accomplished competitive swimmer. These were popular sports in the 1930's. Later in his working life he established a big nursery out Essendon way and with a mate was the first to do the gardening shows on Melbourne radio on Saturday mornings. He was articulate and intelligent.
Doug was compassionate to the underdog. It was his gentle caring nature that endeared him to people. He was a great friend. He loved a beer and a yarn at the end of the day. My memory of him could not but give me inspiration. In Gus Ryberg's book the Four W's, at Gus's request, Doug gave an account of his wartime experience. Without checking for detail, as I recall his battalion on Crete fought a rear guard against a German army with far superior air support. They ran out of ammunition and were stranded as the British evacuated by ship. This after the Nth. African campaign, a battle in Greece in which Hitler's crack paratroops were decimated, and surviving the sinking of their ship by a fighter bomber. He nearly died of dysentery and exposure on the train trip to Germany in cattle trucks in freezing conditions with no ablutions. He eventually escaped the Stalag toward the end of the war and made his own way to England hitching a ride with an American pilot.
He survived all of that to be claimed on Wellington Road at the Berwick turnoff after what must have been an error of judgment on his part.
Monday, January 10, 2011
A Good Year For Hydrangeas
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| Dave Suters' Hydie |
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| Doug Twaits' Hydies |
Along came our prolonged drought and after several years of struggle to keep the water up it all became too difficult. Water restrictions meant I was limited to a small water tank on the shed so I let them go. As conditions get drier the eucies get more voracious, massing roots wherever you water, and I was wasting my time, particularly as the hydies did not produce a financial return to speak of. Amazingly most survived the most extreme conditions and neglect although some died and others are stunted as they hardly had energy to return.
But hey presto as the photo shows we have a show this year. Robbie weeded them. They were full of wire grass and blackberry and the pokers were taking over. If there's a heaven Doug would have made the cut I reckon and if those in heaven can see back here I'm sure Doug would be pleased as punch. Doug died in a car accident in 2002 I think, aged 86. He was an Australian champion wrestler in the late1930'sand missed Olympic selection as the 1940 games were cancelled. He was captured on Crete by the Germans and spent the rest of the war in Stalag 83 in Germany. He had an interesting life post war including learning the building trade and building houses for the country club estate in Emerald, pig farmer, nurseryman, gold mine manager in New Guinea, nurseryman again, and naturalist bird expert writing for the Trader in his retirement. We kept bees togther at his place for a few years before he died.
The other hydie, top photo, we bought at a fete in Eaglehawk about twenty years ago. We went to a fair at which our friend Dave Suters, whom I visited in Albury on Boxing Day, was playing and marching in his Bendigo Pipe Band. We have always called it Dave's Hydrangea. It too has struggled through the drought but has the advantage of being more in a garden than bush setting.
My friend Grace Delarue offered me a big old Hydie last winter. I'd picked flowers from it for years, it's a particularly good one. Her gardener Glen Binstead dug around it and we put a rope round the base and pulled it out with his Ford station wagon. It has done well with all the rain and I took numerous cuttings and planted them strategically on the other side of our house, the west side but where they get some tree shade. Most of them have grown but I've had to water them through a few dry weeks which isn't too bad as we have water tanks now that have been full nearly all this summer. It rained over 20ml this afternoon again topping them up.
On a not so happy note, I hurt my back on Jan 4 the day after my last post. I was cutting long grass in our steep paddock with a brushcutter when I stepped backwards into a wombat hole giving my back severe jarring. That night it went WHANG as I got out of the lounge chair and the next day it was all downhill till I was virtually unable to walk, with agonizing spasms. Six days later I resumed my morning walk with great discomfort, this morning, and I'm still in quite a bit of pain with the back locking up on me intermittently with the accompanying spasm agony. Needless to say I haven't been able to work, exascerbating my predicament. I should have extracted honey last weekend but no way could I and I'm praying I'll be able to next weekend. The honey on the bees is ground flora which candies quickly, and if it candies in the combs before I extract well it's good night nurse for this year as it won't come out and I have no more combs for any more honey which may be coming as there's a bit of messmate blossom starting.
A crook back is a disaster in my particular circumstances. I have a lot of beech to pick for orders tomorrow. Jod has covered for me this last week, picking all the easier stuff. I'm hoping to have made a miraculous recovery by tomorrow. Jod can't pick the higher harder stuff, that has always been my task. It's not an easy life for self employed farmer/gardeners. I think of my retired in laws with their first div tattslotto sized super payouts with some mirth, particularly when I hear them whingeing about this or that, but it does not help me and I don't want the tone of this blog to descend into miserable self pity so shut up Carey and go to bed. Goodnight.
PS. I'm enjoying War and Peace although I'm only up to about page 400 of 1400.
Monday, January 03, 2011
Let's Have a Good One
Young Scott came two days before Xmas and took out the Cedar Wattle. He and his mate were superb. When I left for the second time at 2.30pm, they were still at it, after arriving at 7.15am. Not a shrub underneath was damaged, which showed the care they'd taken. I have no hesitation in recommending them. (Scott Purton, Green Care Tree Service, 0407 099 249)
We left for Wangaratta about noon on Christmas Day. I was so looking forward to driving over the Bonnie Doon bridge and seeing water below in Eildon Weir which had filled to 75% capacity. Alas we were detoured at Yarck because of a fatal accident in the morning, going via Euroa instead.
I had some consolation on Boxing Day. I met my old mate Dave Suters at the Hume Weir which is 100% full. I hadn't seen Dave for 15 years or thereabouts. We met at the appointed place, and each thought the other was late when in fact we'd walked past and looked at each other a couple of times without realizing we were us. Such is the cruelty of aging. We both were looking for a younger man. It wasn't until Dave's wife Pam arrived and looked at me that the penny dropped for us at the same time. It was great to see them.We had lunch at an Albury club. I met Dave at the Qld Ag College in 1974. We became close friends, our contact dropping off only in recent years. It's satisfying this has been corrected.
I was on my own having left Lib and the boys with Molly and Lib's sister's family as I was absorbed by nostalgia on the drive south back to Wang. I visited the Wang cemetery to give my respects to Kel, who died late in 2008. Two other team mates from the Greta Football team of 1980 are also there. 'Brains' was killed in a car accident in 1983 and ditto 'Swampy' in 1988. It took me a long time to find their graves and also Fred Sargent's and Lib's dad Bill's plaque.
I came across someone I can't recall thinking of for over 30 years. When I first moved to Wang in 1976, I rented a flat in Oven's St. It was a house divided into two flats, the other flat occupied by an attractive young girl by the name of Karen. We shared a clothesline in the back yard but I rarely saw her to talk to. She had a tumultuous relationship with a boyfriend who called regularly. Between the flats at one point there was a non opening door separating the two, I could hear their noisy lovemaking, arguments, and often yell and scream, bang and crash fighting. It was a bit of a worry but I must admit it was entertaining. I can't remember the details but I did have a minor altercation one time with the boyfriend which was verbal involving no fisticuffs, but violence was threatened which I took pains to avoid while at the same time not backing down.
I had to leave that flat. The motel that owned the building changed hands and the new owners wanted it for their relatives. A couple of years later after a couple moves I was in a flat in Green St. near the hospital, in a block of about a dozen flats, mine being one from the rear end on the second floor. One night I was comfortably minding my business when there was a frantic banging on my door, accompanied by a woman's voice yelling for help. She was almost hysterical when I opened the door, gibbering that a man was threatening to kill her girlfriend and was cutting up all her clothing.
I think I told her to use my phone to ring the police and went to the flat full of nervous apprehension but acting on adrenalin. I barged in and was in his face in the bedroom in a flash with as much authority and bluster that I could manage. It was the girl Karen's flat and the enraged bloke ransacking it was the same boyfriend of two years previous. He looked at me with surprise he was being confronted, briefly arguing absurdly, but thankfully ceased his activity and went to the door with me right on his hammer telling him the police would be arriving shortly. Once outside on his way down the stairs he turned and abused me saying he'd get me.
I moved to a farmhouse at Moyhu shortly after. Over the next couple of years when playing football for Greta he was in the opposition Nth Wangaratta team when we played them. He showed me no recognition let alone aggression or attempt to 'get me'. There I was on Boxing Day paying a visit to my old footy mates and there he was, right in front of me, on a headstone. It bore his name of course and had a photo of him. Born 1956, died 2007, husband of Karen and father to four daughters. Who knows what happened between 1978 and 2007, besides the bald facts on the headstone. I don't like to jump to conclusions but age 51 is an early death and leaves me wondering. I suppose his and Karen's life together had its share of joy and pain, as does everyone's. I'm tempted to find Karen who is probably still in Wang and easily findable, but no I'll let it rest.
Best wishes to my friends for 2011. After a few days at Lakes Entrance I'm back well rested and ready for a year of challenge and achievement. There's much to do.
We left for Wangaratta about noon on Christmas Day. I was so looking forward to driving over the Bonnie Doon bridge and seeing water below in Eildon Weir which had filled to 75% capacity. Alas we were detoured at Yarck because of a fatal accident in the morning, going via Euroa instead.
I had some consolation on Boxing Day. I met my old mate Dave Suters at the Hume Weir which is 100% full. I hadn't seen Dave for 15 years or thereabouts. We met at the appointed place, and each thought the other was late when in fact we'd walked past and looked at each other a couple of times without realizing we were us. Such is the cruelty of aging. We both were looking for a younger man. It wasn't until Dave's wife Pam arrived and looked at me that the penny dropped for us at the same time. It was great to see them.We had lunch at an Albury club. I met Dave at the Qld Ag College in 1974. We became close friends, our contact dropping off only in recent years. It's satisfying this has been corrected.
I was on my own having left Lib and the boys with Molly and Lib's sister's family as I was absorbed by nostalgia on the drive south back to Wang. I visited the Wang cemetery to give my respects to Kel, who died late in 2008. Two other team mates from the Greta Football team of 1980 are also there. 'Brains' was killed in a car accident in 1983 and ditto 'Swampy' in 1988. It took me a long time to find their graves and also Fred Sargent's and Lib's dad Bill's plaque.
I came across someone I can't recall thinking of for over 30 years. When I first moved to Wang in 1976, I rented a flat in Oven's St. It was a house divided into two flats, the other flat occupied by an attractive young girl by the name of Karen. We shared a clothesline in the back yard but I rarely saw her to talk to. She had a tumultuous relationship with a boyfriend who called regularly. Between the flats at one point there was a non opening door separating the two, I could hear their noisy lovemaking, arguments, and often yell and scream, bang and crash fighting. It was a bit of a worry but I must admit it was entertaining. I can't remember the details but I did have a minor altercation one time with the boyfriend which was verbal involving no fisticuffs, but violence was threatened which I took pains to avoid while at the same time not backing down.
I had to leave that flat. The motel that owned the building changed hands and the new owners wanted it for their relatives. A couple of years later after a couple moves I was in a flat in Green St. near the hospital, in a block of about a dozen flats, mine being one from the rear end on the second floor. One night I was comfortably minding my business when there was a frantic banging on my door, accompanied by a woman's voice yelling for help. She was almost hysterical when I opened the door, gibbering that a man was threatening to kill her girlfriend and was cutting up all her clothing.
I think I told her to use my phone to ring the police and went to the flat full of nervous apprehension but acting on adrenalin. I barged in and was in his face in the bedroom in a flash with as much authority and bluster that I could manage. It was the girl Karen's flat and the enraged bloke ransacking it was the same boyfriend of two years previous. He looked at me with surprise he was being confronted, briefly arguing absurdly, but thankfully ceased his activity and went to the door with me right on his hammer telling him the police would be arriving shortly. Once outside on his way down the stairs he turned and abused me saying he'd get me.
I moved to a farmhouse at Moyhu shortly after. Over the next couple of years when playing football for Greta he was in the opposition Nth Wangaratta team when we played them. He showed me no recognition let alone aggression or attempt to 'get me'. There I was on Boxing Day paying a visit to my old footy mates and there he was, right in front of me, on a headstone. It bore his name of course and had a photo of him. Born 1956, died 2007, husband of Karen and father to four daughters. Who knows what happened between 1978 and 2007, besides the bald facts on the headstone. I don't like to jump to conclusions but age 51 is an early death and leaves me wondering. I suppose his and Karen's life together had its share of joy and pain, as does everyone's. I'm tempted to find Karen who is probably still in Wang and easily findable, but no I'll let it rest.
Best wishes to my friends for 2011. After a few days at Lakes Entrance I'm back well rested and ready for a year of challenge and achievement. There's much to do.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
The Cedar Wattle
There's a cedar wattle tree behind a shed on the east side of our house. It has been there longer than the almost 30 years Lib and I have lived here, as has the old shed. It was a spindly tree, growing tall and lean under Peppermint Eucalyptus and with a distinct lean over the shed, which worried me given the rapid growth of it. Many years ago I climbed up a ladder and cut it about half way up, pulling the top half down with a rope so it didn't land on the shed. The danger to the shed was temporarily gone and I planned to get up each year and prune it to stop it becoming a worry to me again.
I forgot all about it for some years, and, as is the way of it when a tree is cut and regrows, it shot out numerous branches in all direction upwards, with vengeance. When arborist Steve Major was here getting a dead tree down a few years ago, I asked his advice and he said it was OK for now but later on it'd be better to remove the whole tree as the multiple branches will one day start dropping. He added that Cedar Wattle was a weed in this district which I knew having seen it on the shire's list of environmentally threatening vegetation.
About a year ago, after regularly looking at the 3 branches now hanging over the shed and realizing they were too difficult for me to get down without damaging the shed or myself, I rang Steve and told him to pop in when he was quoting in Gembrook, have a look at it and book it in for removal. A month or so later in a windstorm a branch broke off and came down resting on a rhododendron but with the break not clean and the branch still connected at the break. I rang Steve about some work in Nobelius Park, adding that a branch had come down from the Cedar Wattle at home, and saying I could attend to it myself but he might as well do it, thinking of when he came to remove the whole tree. He must have thought I said I could do it myself, or forgotten about it, because a month or two went by and he still didn't turn up.
During the footy finals, Cheryl up the road, a Collingwood supporter, sent an footy related email which also told me about a young bloke, Scott, who'd got down a dead tree for her at a reasonable price and gave me his phone number. Now with no ill to Steve who has done all my tree work for many years but who I know is very busy with a waiting list of many weeks, I rang Scott. It took a while for us to meet as he rang a few times to arrange an inspection and quote for me but I couldn't be there, eventually we keyed in and I'm expecting him any day to attend to the tree having agreed on a price.
The tree is close to our clothesline. Lately while I've been hanging out washing I've been hearing the 'creaky door' voices of Gang Gang Cockatoos as they happily feed on the seed pods. At close range I watch them holding the pod in the claw of the left leg up to their beak while they munch away.The ground is littered with dropped empty pods which shows what a feast they're having. They are a lovely quiet bird in contrast to their screeching cousins. They are nomadic and not commonly seen in Gembrook. I'm sorry I've organized the destruction of a food source.
I found Cedar Wattle in a tree book. It's a NSW tree, Acacia elata, which has become naturalized in parts of Victoria, and will grow to 20 metres. The seeds need to be boiled to help germination. I'll collect some and hopefully get them growing, weed or no, so I can plant them in other places to feed Gang Gangs down the track.
I forgot all about it for some years, and, as is the way of it when a tree is cut and regrows, it shot out numerous branches in all direction upwards, with vengeance. When arborist Steve Major was here getting a dead tree down a few years ago, I asked his advice and he said it was OK for now but later on it'd be better to remove the whole tree as the multiple branches will one day start dropping. He added that Cedar Wattle was a weed in this district which I knew having seen it on the shire's list of environmentally threatening vegetation.
About a year ago, after regularly looking at the 3 branches now hanging over the shed and realizing they were too difficult for me to get down without damaging the shed or myself, I rang Steve and told him to pop in when he was quoting in Gembrook, have a look at it and book it in for removal. A month or so later in a windstorm a branch broke off and came down resting on a rhododendron but with the break not clean and the branch still connected at the break. I rang Steve about some work in Nobelius Park, adding that a branch had come down from the Cedar Wattle at home, and saying I could attend to it myself but he might as well do it, thinking of when he came to remove the whole tree. He must have thought I said I could do it myself, or forgotten about it, because a month or two went by and he still didn't turn up.
During the footy finals, Cheryl up the road, a Collingwood supporter, sent an footy related email which also told me about a young bloke, Scott, who'd got down a dead tree for her at a reasonable price and gave me his phone number. Now with no ill to Steve who has done all my tree work for many years but who I know is very busy with a waiting list of many weeks, I rang Scott. It took a while for us to meet as he rang a few times to arrange an inspection and quote for me but I couldn't be there, eventually we keyed in and I'm expecting him any day to attend to the tree having agreed on a price.
The tree is close to our clothesline. Lately while I've been hanging out washing I've been hearing the 'creaky door' voices of Gang Gang Cockatoos as they happily feed on the seed pods. At close range I watch them holding the pod in the claw of the left leg up to their beak while they munch away.The ground is littered with dropped empty pods which shows what a feast they're having. They are a lovely quiet bird in contrast to their screeching cousins. They are nomadic and not commonly seen in Gembrook. I'm sorry I've organized the destruction of a food source.
I found Cedar Wattle in a tree book. It's a NSW tree, Acacia elata, which has become naturalized in parts of Victoria, and will grow to 20 metres. The seeds need to be boiled to help germination. I'll collect some and hopefully get them growing, weed or no, so I can plant them in other places to feed Gang Gangs down the track.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Either Way I Lose, I Win
I'm about to take Lib's car up the street to the garage and fill it with fuel and check the oil and tyres as I do most Saturday mornings. On the way back I'll stop off and cast my vote at the booth at the primary school for the state election.
As a 'Green' voter, I can't win outright, I know that. If the Labour Gov't is thrown out, which I expect to happen, the Libs will govern. That's bad. The Wilderness Society in a survey of environmental groups came up with the following ratings for the respective policies of the major parties-
Labour 50%
Libs 15%
Greens 93%
On the other hand, if the Lib's win, the $10.3 million that Labour promised Puffing Billy probably won't happen. I'm not a PB fan; it's a noisy, polluting, self serving drain on the state's finances. I don't know why it is such a sacred cow. I don't mind it being preserved in the museum at Belgrave. Even run it up and down a few hundred metres now and again if you must. The prime land the railway takes up could be put to a better use. How about a Flora and Fauna Corridor? A Nature Trail? A Heritage Trail? All with educational and tourism potential greater than PB's spouted tourism return, which I believe is grossly overstated. The $10.3 mill offer has got me seriously considering where to put my second preference.
It's a dilemna. Our sitting Labour member Tammy Lobato has been terrific. I'd hate see her go. She's a wonderful lady. It's a hard business. It won't be her fault if Labour loses.
Brumby is on the nose.
As a 'Green' voter, I can't win outright, I know that. If the Labour Gov't is thrown out, which I expect to happen, the Libs will govern. That's bad. The Wilderness Society in a survey of environmental groups came up with the following ratings for the respective policies of the major parties-
Labour 50%
Libs 15%
Greens 93%
On the other hand, if the Lib's win, the $10.3 million that Labour promised Puffing Billy probably won't happen. I'm not a PB fan; it's a noisy, polluting, self serving drain on the state's finances. I don't know why it is such a sacred cow. I don't mind it being preserved in the museum at Belgrave. Even run it up and down a few hundred metres now and again if you must. The prime land the railway takes up could be put to a better use. How about a Flora and Fauna Corridor? A Nature Trail? A Heritage Trail? All with educational and tourism potential greater than PB's spouted tourism return, which I believe is grossly overstated. The $10.3 mill offer has got me seriously considering where to put my second preference.
It's a dilemna. Our sitting Labour member Tammy Lobato has been terrific. I'd hate see her go. She's a wonderful lady. It's a hard business. It won't be her fault if Labour loses.
Brumby is on the nose.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
War and Peace
Lib and I went to the Leonard Cohen concert in Melbourne on the 13th November.
My friend Maria requested a report so I replied as follows-
'It was sensationally good. He's a master with words and timing, and he has a winning formula I've seen before in performance DVD's. As it obviously works he sticks to it, so it is now relaxed and well oiled. It took me a few songs to slip into the slow mesmerising rhythm, then I almost drifted asleep, but slowly my senses came sharper and sharper and the show kept getting better and better. Not only do I love the songs but he's a consumate performer. The musicians and girl singers were also wonderful and the chemistry within the group was magic. There were three standing ovations to end what was a memorable concert, surpassing my wildest expectations.
It may sound a little mushy but there was stage rapport that extended to the audience and enveloped it. I found it inspiring that so many people can feel the same thing at once. It seemed to convey a message of hope and togetherness and human goodness, as in one of his songs, 'There's a crack, where the light comes in.'"
I finished a book last week, 'Centennial' by James Michener, an epic historical novel in the Michener's style, of 1100 pages. I took three months to finish it, enjoying it thoroughly, and I'm in the mood. My new book is one I have been eying off on the shelf for some time.
'War and Peace' by Count Leo Nickelayevich Toltoy, is, I notice, 1400 pages, so it'll carry me well into the new year. So far I've only read the introduction by the translator. Two quotes immediately struck me in light of my comments to Maria regarding Leonard Cohen.
The Introduction starts with the quote, "There is no greatness where simplicity, goodness and truth are absent."
Towards the end, "In 1812 simplicity, goodness and truth overcame power, which ignored simplicity and was rooted in evil and falsity."
I think I'm going to enjoy Tolstoy's 'War and Peace'.
My friend Maria requested a report so I replied as follows-
'It was sensationally good. He's a master with words and timing, and he has a winning formula I've seen before in performance DVD's. As it obviously works he sticks to it, so it is now relaxed and well oiled. It took me a few songs to slip into the slow mesmerising rhythm, then I almost drifted asleep, but slowly my senses came sharper and sharper and the show kept getting better and better. Not only do I love the songs but he's a consumate performer. The musicians and girl singers were also wonderful and the chemistry within the group was magic. There were three standing ovations to end what was a memorable concert, surpassing my wildest expectations.
It may sound a little mushy but there was stage rapport that extended to the audience and enveloped it. I found it inspiring that so many people can feel the same thing at once. It seemed to convey a message of hope and togetherness and human goodness, as in one of his songs, 'There's a crack, where the light comes in.'"
I finished a book last week, 'Centennial' by James Michener, an epic historical novel in the Michener's style, of 1100 pages. I took three months to finish it, enjoying it thoroughly, and I'm in the mood. My new book is one I have been eying off on the shelf for some time.
'War and Peace' by Count Leo Nickelayevich Toltoy, is, I notice, 1400 pages, so it'll carry me well into the new year. So far I've only read the introduction by the translator. Two quotes immediately struck me in light of my comments to Maria regarding Leonard Cohen.
The Introduction starts with the quote, "There is no greatness where simplicity, goodness and truth are absent."
Towards the end, "In 1812 simplicity, goodness and truth overcame power, which ignored simplicity and was rooted in evil and falsity."
I think I'm going to enjoy Tolstoy's 'War and Peace'.
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