After last week's sad news came some good this week. Sister Meredith received a letter from our Aunt Hatsu who lives in Adelaide. We had presumed that she had passed away as she had not written for a few years after exchanging letters with Meredith every year for perhaps 30 years. She's well and enjoying life at age 80. Her second husband died ten years ago and she lives quietly with the company of a few good friends from the Japanese community.
Our Uncle Ron, Elvie's brother, always a bit of a weird turkey, married Hatsu after corresponding with her by mail in the early 1960's I think it was. She came to Australia and we liked her enormously as kids for the short time we knew her before she and Ron moved to Narracoorte then Adelaide. They had two children, Lester and Nerissa. Lester is an airline pilot and lives overseas but has regular contact with Hatsu while I believe Nerissa is in Melbourne but her Mum does not hear from her often.
Ron and Hatsu became estranged and Hatsu left him, I'm not sure when, perhaps early/mid seventies. I went to Adelaide in 1977 to a Bee Congress and stayed a few nights at Hatsu's flat, the kids were at school and Hatsu worked as a waitress at a nearby hotel. I met the fairly elderly man Hatsu was later to marry. He was a patron at the hotel and apparently a kind man.
I'm just so glad Hatsu is well and enjoying a happy and quiet old age and I would love to visit her one day. I went to Adelaide a year or two ago for a holiday with Lib but I didn't know she was still alive. I did visit Ron, he was in a nursing home and confined to barracks as he was on the way to losing the plot. He remarried to a Filipino lady and had another daughter, Emily. That wife also became estranged and left him but I knew where he was through letters the daughter and Meredith exchanged. Ron and Elvie exchanged letters for decades until Ron said it was too difficult to write due to his arthritis and Elvie was the same due to Macular degeneration.
Ron remembered me clearly and saw me as a light at long last who could save him from his imprisonment. He said Emily and her boyfriend had taken his house and he had no money and she never visited. I inquired from the staff as to Emily's contact details, of course they wouldn't tell me but they said Emily visited regularly and brought Ron anything he needed. Lib who was with me and has worked thirty years with geriatrics said paranoia is common with onset dementia and they often don't remember family visiting.
A funny story about Ron. When we were kids and at Nanna Wilson's house Jod, a bird egg collector, found a blackbird's nest and stole the eggs. He showed them to Ron who was infuriated that this kid had done that and he broke the eggs in Jod's face. About forty years later, Ron was on one of his perhaps biennial pilgrimages from Adelaide to visit his sister Elvie at Chamomile Farm. On this particular day Jod happened to be in the kitchen after having had quite a few beers and with his razor sharp memory he recalled this incident to Ron and went to the fridge, took a couple of eggs, and broke them on Ron's bald head.
My bad news of the day was I was got the better of by some prickly pears at Marguerita's. She rang me early this morn asking could I come out and pick some for her with my ladder. I wanted to pick some holly berries there so out I went about midday, starting on the pears first. I got her a big bucket full but learned the hard way that prickly pear have these needles like brown dust that get into your clothes, into your face down the neck and I was so badly afflicted I had to go home and shower and change clothes but my skin came up in a dreadful itchy prickly rash. It was 33C and I have been sweating like a pig because of the cortisone I think so it was frankly a bugger of a day for me and I'll have to go back for the holly tomorrow.
Tuesday, April 01, 2014
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Sad News
Our friend 'Grub' Younger visited us yesterday on his way back from Lakes Entrance where he spent the weekend in a fishing party of eight people from around Greta and Moyhu. He went in his own car over the top so he could do the detour to Gembrook and visit us. We had not seen Grub since Mark Kelly's send off in Wang late in 2008. He'd rang last Friday morning to tell us of his intention to visit.
Grub had been to our place twice before. When we moved into our house in July 1981 from Wang it was Grub who moved our furniture down with his cattle truck. He wouldn't even let us pay for fuel, such is the the generous nature of the man, saying he was going on to Dandenong the next day to pick up some steel. He and 'Squeak' Dinning camped on the floor by the open fire in our freezing house still without curtains or carpet and with no electricity as it was not yet connected. The second time Grub and his wife Kerry left baby Shelley with us a year or so later when they attended Bill Forge's wedding somewhere in Melbourne, returning late to stay with us. I had forgotten this but Grub reminded me. He said they must have placed the two boys who were under 5 somewhere back home.
Grub turns 65 this year. He and Kerry had 4 children who are all married. Grub has 10 grandchildren the oldest is eight. He's no longer married to Kerry, they split many years ago. He contracted cancer in his face some 7 years ago and was given even money survival chance, then told if he survived the initial treatment he had a 60 percent chance of living 5 years. He lost an eye and a cheekbone and part of his jaw and forehead. Last year he had an operation to get a new skin patch over where the eye once was as it "rotted away". The new patch has had a fluid leak ever since it was put on and the medicos have not been able to get it to heal.
When he and Kerry split he had to borrow a big whack of money to settle the dissolution, if that is the right term, so that he didn't have to sell his 500 acre farm at Hansonville, which he purchased as a young man from his uncle. He reckons now he has paid for it twice. His eldest son helped remove the debt by buying into it over a decade or so and he now owns a share.
Grub was always a short and thin but he is quite frail compared to the tough little wiry bloke I knew, mainly because it's difficult for him to eat with his reconstructed face and limited chewing ability. Red meat is out. We had a barbie and he managed a couple of chicken kebabs that he cut up very fine and some mashed potato with cheese worked in. That was it, no salad bread or sausage or chop that was also on offer. For all Grub's difficulties he remains positive, always with a quick wit and clear memory for stories.
We talked about many Greta people I have not seen or heard much of in recent times. When I asked him if Terry Wadley had come back from wherever he was in Qld he said, "Yes, he's been back in Wang for a while but things have got bad for him, he was in court last week as he robbed a bloke, and has gone to jail."
Sad Indeed. Terry's older brother Gary is one of Grub's good mates and was one of the eight in the fishing party at Lakes. Apparently Terry stayed with Gary and his wife for a while fairly recently but they ended up having a blue. Then Terry stayed with his sister for a while with the same result.
Terry was an excellent footballer good enough to win the O+K comp best and fairest in 1978. He played for Wangaratta in 1979 but came back to Greta in 1980 to "play in a premiership team", which he did. He was powerfully built for a first rover and an extremely strong runner, he'd explode out the pack and run 50 metres or more bouncing the ball. Molly called him 'Speedy Gonzales'. We were good friends. He had a broken romance which affected him greatly, but he married one of Lib's friends and I well recall their wedding in Yea. The marriage did not last all that long. Prior to all that I recall him staying at the farmhouse I rented in Moyhu, where we sat up drinking all the night till dawn after a football match, and I recall going to his parents place for dinner after training and staying the night, probably when I had lost my driver's license and moved back to live in Wang. Terry worked at the Post Office in Wang then. He was a bit of a gambler, he'd go up to the clubs in Corowa on bus trips and blow $100 on pokies no qualms. That was close to half a week's wage then.
When Lib and I left Wang to come to Gembrook to live we brought with us a rubber tree in a pot that was a gift from Terry's mother Jean. 33 years later we still have it. It has been frostbitten a number of times and dried out and been moved inside and out and repotted but at the moment it thrives and is dear to us and goes by the name 'Wadley'.
After Grub left today I googled the Wang Chronicle and came up with the newspaper report. It does sadden me, it has troubled me all day. I really liked Terry and can only think that he had some problems that were never addressed or identified and somewhere along the way this caused him to veer off the rails. The report below is nothing like the person I knew in the late 1970's.
Grub had been to our place twice before. When we moved into our house in July 1981 from Wang it was Grub who moved our furniture down with his cattle truck. He wouldn't even let us pay for fuel, such is the the generous nature of the man, saying he was going on to Dandenong the next day to pick up some steel. He and 'Squeak' Dinning camped on the floor by the open fire in our freezing house still without curtains or carpet and with no electricity as it was not yet connected. The second time Grub and his wife Kerry left baby Shelley with us a year or so later when they attended Bill Forge's wedding somewhere in Melbourne, returning late to stay with us. I had forgotten this but Grub reminded me. He said they must have placed the two boys who were under 5 somewhere back home.
Grub turns 65 this year. He and Kerry had 4 children who are all married. Grub has 10 grandchildren the oldest is eight. He's no longer married to Kerry, they split many years ago. He contracted cancer in his face some 7 years ago and was given even money survival chance, then told if he survived the initial treatment he had a 60 percent chance of living 5 years. He lost an eye and a cheekbone and part of his jaw and forehead. Last year he had an operation to get a new skin patch over where the eye once was as it "rotted away". The new patch has had a fluid leak ever since it was put on and the medicos have not been able to get it to heal.
When he and Kerry split he had to borrow a big whack of money to settle the dissolution, if that is the right term, so that he didn't have to sell his 500 acre farm at Hansonville, which he purchased as a young man from his uncle. He reckons now he has paid for it twice. His eldest son helped remove the debt by buying into it over a decade or so and he now owns a share.
Grub was always a short and thin but he is quite frail compared to the tough little wiry bloke I knew, mainly because it's difficult for him to eat with his reconstructed face and limited chewing ability. Red meat is out. We had a barbie and he managed a couple of chicken kebabs that he cut up very fine and some mashed potato with cheese worked in. That was it, no salad bread or sausage or chop that was also on offer. For all Grub's difficulties he remains positive, always with a quick wit and clear memory for stories.
We talked about many Greta people I have not seen or heard much of in recent times. When I asked him if Terry Wadley had come back from wherever he was in Qld he said, "Yes, he's been back in Wang for a while but things have got bad for him, he was in court last week as he robbed a bloke, and has gone to jail."
Sad Indeed. Terry's older brother Gary is one of Grub's good mates and was one of the eight in the fishing party at Lakes. Apparently Terry stayed with Gary and his wife for a while fairly recently but they ended up having a blue. Then Terry stayed with his sister for a while with the same result.
Terry was an excellent footballer good enough to win the O+K comp best and fairest in 1978. He played for Wangaratta in 1979 but came back to Greta in 1980 to "play in a premiership team", which he did. He was powerfully built for a first rover and an extremely strong runner, he'd explode out the pack and run 50 metres or more bouncing the ball. Molly called him 'Speedy Gonzales'. We were good friends. He had a broken romance which affected him greatly, but he married one of Lib's friends and I well recall their wedding in Yea. The marriage did not last all that long. Prior to all that I recall him staying at the farmhouse I rented in Moyhu, where we sat up drinking all the night till dawn after a football match, and I recall going to his parents place for dinner after training and staying the night, probably when I had lost my driver's license and moved back to live in Wang. Terry worked at the Post Office in Wang then. He was a bit of a gambler, he'd go up to the clubs in Corowa on bus trips and blow $100 on pokies no qualms. That was close to half a week's wage then.
When Lib and I left Wang to come to Gembrook to live we brought with us a rubber tree in a pot that was a gift from Terry's mother Jean. 33 years later we still have it. It has been frostbitten a number of times and dried out and been moved inside and out and repotted but at the moment it thrives and is dear to us and goes by the name 'Wadley'.
After Grub left today I googled the Wang Chronicle and came up with the newspaper report. It does sadden me, it has troubled me all day. I really liked Terry and can only think that he had some problems that were never addressed or identified and somewhere along the way this caused him to veer off the rails. The report below is nothing like the person I knew in the late 1970's.
Local
man jailed for terror car-jacking, robbery at knifepoint
A WANGARATTA man will spend at least two years in jail over a
car-jacking where he forced his former employer to drive into a remote section
of the Warby Ranges at knifepoint.
Terrence Wadley, 59, was wearing a hoodie over his face and holding a
6-8 inch long knife when he jumped into the passenger seat of the victim’s car
on the afternoon of October 23 last year.
Wadley appeared in the Wangaratta County Court on Monday and received a
four and a half year jail term, with a non-parole period of two years, after
pleading guilty to armed robbery and false imprisonment.
Judge Marilyn Harbison described how Wadley – who had just left his job
at Wangaratta Abattoirs – forced the victim to turn off his mobile phone and
drive into the Warby Range, then took his credit cards and pin numbers before
leaving him stranded on the side of the road.
“You set upon an unarmed man, to impose upon him an extended criminal
act in a situation where he was rightfully fearful and which has caused him
significant emotional distress,” she said.
“He left the track and ran through the scrub, fearing that you might come
to look for him.
“His state of terror at that time is illustrated by the fact he decided
not to approach the first house he saw because he thought you may look for him
there.”
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Footy
We, Lib and I that is, did not renew our MFC membership in 2013, after probably 20 years plus of continuous membership. The reason for this was a combination of factors but mostly because of a strong dislike for the AFL system which will hopefully be explained as this post continues.
Earlier this year we were cajoled by new CEO Peter Jackson who in his open letter apologized for the poor on field performance of the MFC in recent years and saying that he understood the frustrations of supporters who had dropped off. I intended to reply to him but didn't get around to it.
Soon after a similar request from new coach Paul Roos came by email with much the same message. It was signed 'Roosy'. This time I did reply, the email has been deleted but it was along this tack.
Dear Roosy,
Thank you for your concern for the MFC. I must inform you that my failure to renew membership is not due to poor on field performance of the football team in recent seasons. It's resulting from the fact that we rarely go to the football these days as our children are now independent adults and it is no longer a family activity for us. The last few years we attended perhaps 3 games for the season so club membership was expensive at $195 pp to attend 3 games.
Beside that, we probably would still sign up were it not for the total disillusionment we feel for the AFL administration. This administration constantly harps that clubs need higher membership while at the same time it introduces two new teams that have bugger all membership and who are totally bankrolled by the AFL, and who have concessions and advantages, and with AFL finance pinch players from the poorer clubs.
We pulled the pin. We can no longer make financial contribution to an AFL system that is contrived, compromised, and lacking integrity.
We remain faithful Demon supporters who wish you every success. I was there as a twelve year old in 1964 at our last premiership. We have a player's tankard from a premiership in the 1950's, that was all they got back then, given to Lib by Don Williams who played in five. We can be happy knowing we are not being shafted by a greedy self serving AFL system that promotes largess on every front, and is a rort in the extreme.
Good luck with it, Carey Williams
I received no reply to that email. My position remains as expressed. In the meantime I have watched the announcement of Demetriou's resignation at the end of the year and noted his salary of $1million plus with bonuses of $2million. This is a heads in the trough industry. I see greedy pig's eyes when I see interviews.
The MFC will have to survive without this pilgrim putting hand in pocket. And if it doesn't that fine with me. I'd be happy if the AFL self destructed and I think it probably will.
Earlier this year we were cajoled by new CEO Peter Jackson who in his open letter apologized for the poor on field performance of the MFC in recent years and saying that he understood the frustrations of supporters who had dropped off. I intended to reply to him but didn't get around to it.
Soon after a similar request from new coach Paul Roos came by email with much the same message. It was signed 'Roosy'. This time I did reply, the email has been deleted but it was along this tack.
Dear Roosy,
Thank you for your concern for the MFC. I must inform you that my failure to renew membership is not due to poor on field performance of the football team in recent seasons. It's resulting from the fact that we rarely go to the football these days as our children are now independent adults and it is no longer a family activity for us. The last few years we attended perhaps 3 games for the season so club membership was expensive at $195 pp to attend 3 games.
Beside that, we probably would still sign up were it not for the total disillusionment we feel for the AFL administration. This administration constantly harps that clubs need higher membership while at the same time it introduces two new teams that have bugger all membership and who are totally bankrolled by the AFL, and who have concessions and advantages, and with AFL finance pinch players from the poorer clubs.
We pulled the pin. We can no longer make financial contribution to an AFL system that is contrived, compromised, and lacking integrity.
We remain faithful Demon supporters who wish you every success. I was there as a twelve year old in 1964 at our last premiership. We have a player's tankard from a premiership in the 1950's, that was all they got back then, given to Lib by Don Williams who played in five. We can be happy knowing we are not being shafted by a greedy self serving AFL system that promotes largess on every front, and is a rort in the extreme.
Good luck with it, Carey Williams
I received no reply to that email. My position remains as expressed. In the meantime I have watched the announcement of Demetriou's resignation at the end of the year and noted his salary of $1million plus with bonuses of $2million. This is a heads in the trough industry. I see greedy pig's eyes when I see interviews.
The MFC will have to survive without this pilgrim putting hand in pocket. And if it doesn't that fine with me. I'd be happy if the AFL self destructed and I think it probably will.
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Fish Bowl Dreams
The two days of this week have been most pleasant weather wise as I have performed my duties in a relaxed way, all the while trying to make sense of what I see and hear as I move around. I do what I have to do and look for reward in the way of food and social engagement, mainly with family but also neighbours, shopkeepers and colleagues of one sort or another, and the odd stranger.
I've picked a fair bit of wild mint from the roadside, this having shot up among the grass in a low lying place following the summer slashing and then the rain. The stench of death was heavy in the air last week in this spot and it was most unpleasant. On Friday I found its source, a large dead deer close to the road in long grass, most probably road kill. Yesterday and today the stench was still strong but it didn't bother me as much now that I knew what it was and where it came from.
I was two hours cutting back trees and shrubs in Marguerita's garden this morning to clear her electricity line 2 metres as she had a notice to do this, she said, from the power people. I do things for her now and again without payment as she's a friend and her husband is eighty this year I think and has advancing Alzeimers. They left for a medical appointment after I got there and I enjoyed the solitude and my work in the quiet rural setting away from traffic noise and distractions. And when I finished it was good to see the wire from the pole in the paddock go to the house through the garden well clear of vegetation.
The nights are cool now, the mornings fresh. Birdsong at dawn is reduced, must be the changing season. A few weeks ago it was a veritable cacophony. It's nice to go to bed with the expectation of another pleasant day tomorrow. I may be restricted to my fish bowl but all the time I look out through the glass seeking insight and reason, with thoughts extending far and to many people. We all have our bubble we live and work in but I love to see and think outside it.
I'm finding it easier to day dream yet remain moderately competent doing what I have to do. Goodo hey! And I'm dreaming a lot at night. Maybe it's the cortisone. Annie in the post office asked me how I was the other day and I said, "Great, I don't know why, but I feel great."
With a grin she said, "It must be the drugs." Perhaps she's right.
I've picked a fair bit of wild mint from the roadside, this having shot up among the grass in a low lying place following the summer slashing and then the rain. The stench of death was heavy in the air last week in this spot and it was most unpleasant. On Friday I found its source, a large dead deer close to the road in long grass, most probably road kill. Yesterday and today the stench was still strong but it didn't bother me as much now that I knew what it was and where it came from.
I was two hours cutting back trees and shrubs in Marguerita's garden this morning to clear her electricity line 2 metres as she had a notice to do this, she said, from the power people. I do things for her now and again without payment as she's a friend and her husband is eighty this year I think and has advancing Alzeimers. They left for a medical appointment after I got there and I enjoyed the solitude and my work in the quiet rural setting away from traffic noise and distractions. And when I finished it was good to see the wire from the pole in the paddock go to the house through the garden well clear of vegetation.
The nights are cool now, the mornings fresh. Birdsong at dawn is reduced, must be the changing season. A few weeks ago it was a veritable cacophony. It's nice to go to bed with the expectation of another pleasant day tomorrow. I may be restricted to my fish bowl but all the time I look out through the glass seeking insight and reason, with thoughts extending far and to many people. We all have our bubble we live and work in but I love to see and think outside it.
I'm finding it easier to day dream yet remain moderately competent doing what I have to do. Goodo hey! And I'm dreaming a lot at night. Maybe it's the cortisone. Annie in the post office asked me how I was the other day and I said, "Great, I don't know why, but I feel great."
With a grin she said, "It must be the drugs." Perhaps she's right.
Sunday, March 09, 2014
Interview Panel
Last Thursday I was part of an interview panel to select a part time curator for the Emerald Museum, a position of about six months tenure or till the $30,000 allocated by council runs out.
The Cardinia Council offered me the chance to participate as I'm the current president of the committee of management. I accepted firstly as I saw it as a duty of the president that I didn't want to shirk, and secondly because if I declined then I would not know what happened. At least I was there, I saw and talked to the four candidates. These were narrowed down to interview stage from the 27 applications and short list of 12, which I was not part of.
It was a gut wrenching experience for me, to sit in judgement of four exceptional people who all presented magnificently. I'm sure any one of the four would make an excellent curator. I rated them all very closely and feel awful that we will not have the services of three of the four.
It was four man panel, or more correctly a three women one man panel. The three women were council employees, the heritage officer, the manager of the sustainability and environment and a HR lady who led the panel.
In the end the selected candidate was chosen on personality, or rather as the personality most likely to fit the requirements in terms of suitability to the role working with the volunteers and committee. So in the end it was a 'feel thing', and may well be fallible. That is the way of it. The credentials and experience of the candidates in their resumes was extraordinary. It all came down to gut feel and to select one over three others from 4 excellent people pained me greatly on the day and the pain remains.
The interviews took most of the day. There were three before lunch and one after, then the discussion and decision making. The successful candidate was chosen after the gradings of the four panel members were pooled and totalled, with only a whisker in it.
It gutted me. Then I had an appointment with the quack re the polymyalgia in the late afternoon, to set up a program of cortisone reduction over the next four weeks. I stumbled to the end of the week and did a 'Signpost' interview yesterday afternoon with a subject I had not previously met nor had any knowledge of, but who was recommended to me. I was not disappointed, the subject has had a most interesting life and I should be able to deliver a finished article by Tuesday's deadline if I can find the time and energy to write it up which is not as easy as you would think.
The Cardinia Council offered me the chance to participate as I'm the current president of the committee of management. I accepted firstly as I saw it as a duty of the president that I didn't want to shirk, and secondly because if I declined then I would not know what happened. At least I was there, I saw and talked to the four candidates. These were narrowed down to interview stage from the 27 applications and short list of 12, which I was not part of.
It was a gut wrenching experience for me, to sit in judgement of four exceptional people who all presented magnificently. I'm sure any one of the four would make an excellent curator. I rated them all very closely and feel awful that we will not have the services of three of the four.
It was four man panel, or more correctly a three women one man panel. The three women were council employees, the heritage officer, the manager of the sustainability and environment and a HR lady who led the panel.
In the end the selected candidate was chosen on personality, or rather as the personality most likely to fit the requirements in terms of suitability to the role working with the volunteers and committee. So in the end it was a 'feel thing', and may well be fallible. That is the way of it. The credentials and experience of the candidates in their resumes was extraordinary. It all came down to gut feel and to select one over three others from 4 excellent people pained me greatly on the day and the pain remains.
The interviews took most of the day. There were three before lunch and one after, then the discussion and decision making. The successful candidate was chosen after the gradings of the four panel members were pooled and totalled, with only a whisker in it.
It gutted me. Then I had an appointment with the quack re the polymyalgia in the late afternoon, to set up a program of cortisone reduction over the next four weeks. I stumbled to the end of the week and did a 'Signpost' interview yesterday afternoon with a subject I had not previously met nor had any knowledge of, but who was recommended to me. I was not disappointed, the subject has had a most interesting life and I should be able to deliver a finished article by Tuesday's deadline if I can find the time and energy to write it up which is not as easy as you would think.
Tuesday, March 04, 2014
TAX IS GOOD
Further to The Great Australian Dream is Over-
Tax is Good, Tax is Good
Green is Good, Green is Good
Tax is Good, Tax is Good
Green is Good, Green is Good
Sunday, March 02, 2014
The Great Australian Dream is Over
That was the title of a talk I heard last year on radio national 621 by an economist who presented a paper to the Festival of Dangerous Ideas in Sydney last year.
With Ford Holden Toyota announcing their withdrawal from manufacturing in this country and Qantas on its knees, the talk and title rings true.
I'm not surprised at the demise of the car makers. For years it seems to me most of the new cars I see on the road are Mazdas and Hyundais. Plenty of Hi Lux and Cruisers but it's Camrys that are built here and they don't sell well. My most recent purchase is a Renault, the two prior work vehicles were Suzukis, and Lib drives a Hyundai, after two Subarus. And in recent times I've flown Jetstar, Tiger and Virgin, but I can't recall going Qantas since way back.
I have no training in marketing but I know that people will buy on price and value for the most part. In my case it is a necessity. I couldn't afford a Holden or Ford while there were cheaper vehicles to do the same job that were more economical to run to boot, and better designed. OK maybe with not as much grunt but who would care about that in most circumstances, except a moron.
There's a lot of bleating going on. The trouble with Australians is they are so busy running around telling each other and the world how great they are that they wouldn't know their arse from their front. The only reason it's such a great country is that we've had only about two hundred years since we dispossessed the indigenous inhabitants (who stood no chance to defend without any technology) to divvy up seven and a half million square kms and immense natural resource including gold iron oil copper nickel uranium coal gas, massive timber reserves along the Great Divide, fishing all around us, and huge areas of productive grazing and cropping land. We are still subdividing and ransacking and even fracking. Huge wealth has resulted in the land of the 'fair go', and everybody seems to want as much of it as they can get.
Half the country has been on strike in recent times or taking prolonged industrial action including Qantas, the police, teachers, nurses, the ambos now. Give me more give me more, more more, more. On my recent holiday to Qld I was staggered at the number of grey nomads with their big 4X4's and caravans and luxury campervans, all retired young enough to spend their several hundred thousand dollars of retirement perks. Or $millions. The radio constantly has ads for people to seminars for investment schemes of multiple investment properties to negatively gear interest against tax so that little if any is paid. In the meantime home ownership has become a dream only for a large percentage of our young people.
Australia is, I fear, by and large, becoming a nation of greedy people who whinge and grizzle at a few cents a litre rise in petrol price and who resent paying tax and welfare to the unfortunate.
Of course this is a generalization and I know many people who are not like this, but sadly a grim picture is emerging in our society that is appearing more and more farcical to me.
As for the economist who gave the talk, he said the three linchpins of the Great Australian Dream, A Good Steady Lifetime Job, Home Ownership, and Comfortable Retirement, were over for the majority of Australians into the future.
As for Qantas, Holden and Ford, I couldn't give a fig.
It's my children I worry about, and their children should they have any.
With Ford Holden Toyota announcing their withdrawal from manufacturing in this country and Qantas on its knees, the talk and title rings true.
I'm not surprised at the demise of the car makers. For years it seems to me most of the new cars I see on the road are Mazdas and Hyundais. Plenty of Hi Lux and Cruisers but it's Camrys that are built here and they don't sell well. My most recent purchase is a Renault, the two prior work vehicles were Suzukis, and Lib drives a Hyundai, after two Subarus. And in recent times I've flown Jetstar, Tiger and Virgin, but I can't recall going Qantas since way back.
I have no training in marketing but I know that people will buy on price and value for the most part. In my case it is a necessity. I couldn't afford a Holden or Ford while there were cheaper vehicles to do the same job that were more economical to run to boot, and better designed. OK maybe with not as much grunt but who would care about that in most circumstances, except a moron.
There's a lot of bleating going on. The trouble with Australians is they are so busy running around telling each other and the world how great they are that they wouldn't know their arse from their front. The only reason it's such a great country is that we've had only about two hundred years since we dispossessed the indigenous inhabitants (who stood no chance to defend without any technology) to divvy up seven and a half million square kms and immense natural resource including gold iron oil copper nickel uranium coal gas, massive timber reserves along the Great Divide, fishing all around us, and huge areas of productive grazing and cropping land. We are still subdividing and ransacking and even fracking. Huge wealth has resulted in the land of the 'fair go', and everybody seems to want as much of it as they can get.
Half the country has been on strike in recent times or taking prolonged industrial action including Qantas, the police, teachers, nurses, the ambos now. Give me more give me more, more more, more. On my recent holiday to Qld I was staggered at the number of grey nomads with their big 4X4's and caravans and luxury campervans, all retired young enough to spend their several hundred thousand dollars of retirement perks. Or $millions. The radio constantly has ads for people to seminars for investment schemes of multiple investment properties to negatively gear interest against tax so that little if any is paid. In the meantime home ownership has become a dream only for a large percentage of our young people.
Australia is, I fear, by and large, becoming a nation of greedy people who whinge and grizzle at a few cents a litre rise in petrol price and who resent paying tax and welfare to the unfortunate.
Of course this is a generalization and I know many people who are not like this, but sadly a grim picture is emerging in our society that is appearing more and more farcical to me.
As for the economist who gave the talk, he said the three linchpins of the Great Australian Dream, A Good Steady Lifetime Job, Home Ownership, and Comfortable Retirement, were over for the majority of Australians into the future.
As for Qantas, Holden and Ford, I couldn't give a fig.
It's my children I worry about, and their children should they have any.
Polymyalgia
For most of January and February I struggled physically with debilitating stiffness and pain in my legs particularly but also my hips and buttocks and even neck. I knew there was something wrong with me but during that time with the the severe heat I was busy watering things nearly everyday carrying buckets of water to new plantings in NHP and stuff at home. I didn't worry about stuff at the farm as Meredith and Jod are there and I worked on things that would die as no one else would attend. It was an awful summer.
I wondered if I was dehydrated, short of electrolytes or salts, it was a fatigue thing, I was lacking energy, motivation. Quite frankly I was miserable.
The weather changed mid Feb, there was no improvement with the cooler weather. In fact I was worse. My legs did not want to work. With my reduced mobility and soreness my work rate slowed and productivity dropped right off. I was having all sorts of negative thoughts and decided with great reluctance it was time to go to doctor and have blood tests.
I hadn't visited a doctor since 2011 when I had the arteritis scare so I went to the same bloke in Berwick. He asked me some questions and told me to come back in two weeks after getting blood tests in the meantime, after fasting, for a whole list of things including PSA, cholesterol, blood sugar, thyroid, kidneys. CPR, ESR, FBE, and possibly more that I don't recall from the list.
I went back to him last Thursday to get the results. In the week previous to this visit my condition worsened and I could barely drag myself out of bed with the strong pain and stiffness. The first hour or two of the day was agonizing as I did chores. After eating I took 2 ibuprofen tablets and gradually I improved so as to be able to function reasonably and get through the day albeit at reduced capacity due to slowness and lack of agility, always my greatest asset, suddenly taken away.
His diagnosis was polymyalgia. The same thing Elvie has had for 12 months. There is a hereditary factor, although it is usually occurs in people over 65. Looks like I'm old before time.
The good news is that the prescribed cortisone medication has worked a treat and I'm now getting about as normal with little pain and soreness. I take this dose of cortisone for one week then see doc again probably with a view to slowly reducing the cortisone over coming weeks, as was the case with the arteritis scare but thankfully this time there are no specialists involved and no talk of biopsies and all that other crap that cost me so dearly last time.
The good news also is that all my other test results were positive. Even my cholesterol was OK at 5.6. It was always in the 7.5-8 range in the past and doctors were always wanting me to go on statins which I did for years but rejected about 5 years ago after my own investigations.
With my energy levels down for the past couple of months I have not posted much. I have kept my posts to comments about natural observations but there are a number of things happening I would like to comment on and I intend to in the next days. I'm pissed off about a few things and I intend to speak up.
I'm back.
I wondered if I was dehydrated, short of electrolytes or salts, it was a fatigue thing, I was lacking energy, motivation. Quite frankly I was miserable.
The weather changed mid Feb, there was no improvement with the cooler weather. In fact I was worse. My legs did not want to work. With my reduced mobility and soreness my work rate slowed and productivity dropped right off. I was having all sorts of negative thoughts and decided with great reluctance it was time to go to doctor and have blood tests.
I hadn't visited a doctor since 2011 when I had the arteritis scare so I went to the same bloke in Berwick. He asked me some questions and told me to come back in two weeks after getting blood tests in the meantime, after fasting, for a whole list of things including PSA, cholesterol, blood sugar, thyroid, kidneys. CPR, ESR, FBE, and possibly more that I don't recall from the list.
I went back to him last Thursday to get the results. In the week previous to this visit my condition worsened and I could barely drag myself out of bed with the strong pain and stiffness. The first hour or two of the day was agonizing as I did chores. After eating I took 2 ibuprofen tablets and gradually I improved so as to be able to function reasonably and get through the day albeit at reduced capacity due to slowness and lack of agility, always my greatest asset, suddenly taken away.
His diagnosis was polymyalgia. The same thing Elvie has had for 12 months. There is a hereditary factor, although it is usually occurs in people over 65. Looks like I'm old before time.
The good news is that the prescribed cortisone medication has worked a treat and I'm now getting about as normal with little pain and soreness. I take this dose of cortisone for one week then see doc again probably with a view to slowly reducing the cortisone over coming weeks, as was the case with the arteritis scare but thankfully this time there are no specialists involved and no talk of biopsies and all that other crap that cost me so dearly last time.
The good news also is that all my other test results were positive. Even my cholesterol was OK at 5.6. It was always in the 7.5-8 range in the past and doctors were always wanting me to go on statins which I did for years but rejected about 5 years ago after my own investigations.
With my energy levels down for the past couple of months I have not posted much. I have kept my posts to comments about natural observations but there are a number of things happening I would like to comment on and I intend to in the next days. I'm pissed off about a few things and I intend to speak up.
I'm back.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Rain
Rain. Lots. And not too heavy to overflow the spouting because of leaves blocking down pipes. I have cleared the down pipes a couple of times this summer but not for perhaps 4 weeks. I was worried there'd be enough leaves fallen lately to cause a problem, as the eucys constantly shed leaves in the heatwaves. So far so good, but the sound of rain on the roof seems to be louder now.
When the spouting overflows it falls on our deck between the spout and the veranda roof, in copious quantity, wetting the dogs bedding and anything else that may be there. As diligent as I am I get caught out sometimes. The hot dry weather makes me busy watering and short of time. The clearing of leaves from the down pipes and gutters is one of those things often put off till the next day, repeatedly, and after a long hot dry spell a storm can come quickly often bringing a torrential downpour which may only last 5 or 10 minutes but that is enough sometimes to punish the house dwellers and he who is responsible for such maintenance.
Mind you, sometimes the huge volume of water that can fall in a few minutes is too great for the spouting and down pipes no matter if they are clean of leaves. On these occasions the worry is not really a bit of wet furniture and bedding on the deck but ground surface water that cascades where it shouldn't due to the build up of leaf litter that blocks normal flow and sends water in unexpected directions. This is not uncommon, and such deluge results in driveways and roads being washed out. Indeed in that big rain in Feb some years ago friends of mine (Hi Bill and Paula, if you still read) had water go through their entire house as it came down the hill behind their house when drains in the road above them blocked and redirected storm water straight in the direction of their back door.
I just went out to check, all is OK, there's the lovely sound of water falling into the near empty tanks.
I'm going to bed.
When the spouting overflows it falls on our deck between the spout and the veranda roof, in copious quantity, wetting the dogs bedding and anything else that may be there. As diligent as I am I get caught out sometimes. The hot dry weather makes me busy watering and short of time. The clearing of leaves from the down pipes and gutters is one of those things often put off till the next day, repeatedly, and after a long hot dry spell a storm can come quickly often bringing a torrential downpour which may only last 5 or 10 minutes but that is enough sometimes to punish the house dwellers and he who is responsible for such maintenance.
Mind you, sometimes the huge volume of water that can fall in a few minutes is too great for the spouting and down pipes no matter if they are clean of leaves. On these occasions the worry is not really a bit of wet furniture and bedding on the deck but ground surface water that cascades where it shouldn't due to the build up of leaf litter that blocks normal flow and sends water in unexpected directions. This is not uncommon, and such deluge results in driveways and roads being washed out. Indeed in that big rain in Feb some years ago friends of mine (Hi Bill and Paula, if you still read) had water go through their entire house as it came down the hill behind their house when drains in the road above them blocked and redirected storm water straight in the direction of their back door.
I just went out to check, all is OK, there's the lovely sound of water falling into the near empty tanks.
I'm going to bed.
Friday, February 14, 2014
Atop the Mop
I hear twittering outside our bedroom window in the early
morning. This is not unusual; we have three tree ferns along the back of the
house which is the south side. I have pot plants in the semi shade under the
ferns and in this hot and dry summer we are enduring I water the plants daily
or they would perish. This creates a moist gully effect along the shady path and
a refuge for small birds from the brutal heat and parched garden, only metres
away, which is exposed to full sun and receives no water if it does not rain.
On this day of writing in the depths of February, I am tired
of what is possibly the hottest summer I can recall in the 32 years we have
lived here. The air is filled with smoke drifted in from distant bushfires and
every leaf and twig crunches underfoot, dried brittle to tinder. Trees are
shedding leaves and branches drooping, the roadsides are adorned with dropped
twigs and even limbs as they crack and dry to snapping point. My friends in the
garden fraternity look weary and haggard after many weeks watering special
plants and rueing those they can’t, and watching their gardens shrivel after
heatwaves and little if any rain. Not for faint hearts.
So it was great inspiration I received today when I saw a
bird’s nest built on top of a mop resting on a wall outside our window under
the ferns. I showed brother Jod a photo of it, he says it’s a White-browed
Scrubwren’s nest. These brave little creatures, even if it were a sparrow nest,
are making use of the shade and moisture and their nest building is a symbol of
the resilience and optimism of nature.
I’ll be cautiously watching the nest over the coming weeks.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Seven Magpies
A cool change came in on Sunday, about mid afternoon. The temperature dropped from 40C to 32C in quick time. Not much of a change but welcome after the pig of a day that Saturday was. No rain though. It cooled right down last night and it was lovely this morning. Then the sun flexed its muscles a bit and it became unpleasant with a dry blustery wind, not hot, but uncomfortable. The was a lot of bushfire smoke for a while before the wind came up and took it away.
I got to the farm about mid afternoon after a busy day potting on plants to bigger pots to make them easier to water, interviewing for Signpost, and picking some rosemary. Gord and I bought a big salad roll each and had a late lunch before going down the hill with the big ladder to pick some green beech from the last tree that hadn't been picked hard. It was not good quality but the customer was so insistent with the approach of Valentine's Day that I picked it for her as I wanted the tree reduced.
While I ate a magpie came down so threw it a small piece of bread roll and within a minute or two there were seven competing for my offerings. They really are a beautiful bird up close and I enjoyed having them share my lunch. They have been around the house there for some weeks following Meredith about. She takes some old bread with her in her picking box and feeds her blackbirds and others that know her and follow, and now the maggies have joined in.
The yellow tailed black cockies have been about too and of course the screeching sulphur crested devils. but the maggies were my highlight.
I got to the farm about mid afternoon after a busy day potting on plants to bigger pots to make them easier to water, interviewing for Signpost, and picking some rosemary. Gord and I bought a big salad roll each and had a late lunch before going down the hill with the big ladder to pick some green beech from the last tree that hadn't been picked hard. It was not good quality but the customer was so insistent with the approach of Valentine's Day that I picked it for her as I wanted the tree reduced.
While I ate a magpie came down so threw it a small piece of bread roll and within a minute or two there were seven competing for my offerings. They really are a beautiful bird up close and I enjoyed having them share my lunch. They have been around the house there for some weeks following Meredith about. She takes some old bread with her in her picking box and feeds her blackbirds and others that know her and follow, and now the maggies have joined in.
The yellow tailed black cockies have been about too and of course the screeching sulphur crested devils. but the maggies were my highlight.
Monday, February 03, 2014
Huntsman and Bug
I have not done my morning walk much recently, for a few reasons, but I did today. As I walked up Quinn Rd at the narrow part a car came the other way so I called the the dogs and held them till the car passed, but it didn't, it stopped and the lady inside, Dianne whom I have got to know as I walk past her house and see her walking also, wound the window down and asked me did I know who owned the paddock on the other side of the one full of big bales to our west, the paddock immediately to the north of the Puffing Billy line.
She had been walking there a little while ago with her grandson, along the railway line, when a noisy incident drew her attention. A bull fight no less. The bigger bull had knocked the smaller one down and was butting it and rolling it down the hill toward the dam while stopping now and again to lift up its forequarters and stomp on the poor hapless creature that was destined to die. Dianne was upset. I thought I knew who owned the land and she continued on to advise the farmer, although it was probably too late to affect the outcome.
Lib went to work and bought drinkable ice for the oldies at the nursing home. It wasn't a work day, no pay, she just did it because of the extreme heat we are enduring, and she cares for the oldies. I watered around home, then went to Nobelius Park to water things that have been planted in the last twelve months, as I have done every day for a couple of weeks. The whole thing is tiring, but what can you say? Australia is a hot dry place for much of the time. I watered at Hanna's on my way home and did a few little things I'd been itching to do at home before hitting the bathtub and then enjoying a delightful roast chook cooked in the crocky outside.
We were watching some crap on TV, there were numerous bugs flying about, and I noticed a big one on the wall near my left shoulder. I ignored it with the thought that this is all part of summer. Fortunately the movie 'Castaway' came on the satellite so i settled back to enjoy. I reckon that is a great movie.
Gord alerted me to another show going on, on the wall to my left shoulder where the big bug had settled. A Huntsman spider had come down from behind a mural, a big one about 1500 by 1500 that Lib brought back from Peru, and seized it by the abdomen. The bug kicked an fought, its long antennae in particular thrashing about. The spider had seven of its eight legs bracing on the wall, the other sticking up in the air, and had the bug seemingly in ts mouth, with what looked like small mandibles, extra to its legs, clamping down on it.
Slowly but surely, over about 45 minutes, the spider moved its grip up to the neck of the bug and it eventually ceased struggling and was immobile. The spider then took it up under the mural.
Nature is riveting.
She had been walking there a little while ago with her grandson, along the railway line, when a noisy incident drew her attention. A bull fight no less. The bigger bull had knocked the smaller one down and was butting it and rolling it down the hill toward the dam while stopping now and again to lift up its forequarters and stomp on the poor hapless creature that was destined to die. Dianne was upset. I thought I knew who owned the land and she continued on to advise the farmer, although it was probably too late to affect the outcome.
Lib went to work and bought drinkable ice for the oldies at the nursing home. It wasn't a work day, no pay, she just did it because of the extreme heat we are enduring, and she cares for the oldies. I watered around home, then went to Nobelius Park to water things that have been planted in the last twelve months, as I have done every day for a couple of weeks. The whole thing is tiring, but what can you say? Australia is a hot dry place for much of the time. I watered at Hanna's on my way home and did a few little things I'd been itching to do at home before hitting the bathtub and then enjoying a delightful roast chook cooked in the crocky outside.
We were watching some crap on TV, there were numerous bugs flying about, and I noticed a big one on the wall near my left shoulder. I ignored it with the thought that this is all part of summer. Fortunately the movie 'Castaway' came on the satellite so i settled back to enjoy. I reckon that is a great movie.
Gord alerted me to another show going on, on the wall to my left shoulder where the big bug had settled. A Huntsman spider had come down from behind a mural, a big one about 1500 by 1500 that Lib brought back from Peru, and seized it by the abdomen. The bug kicked an fought, its long antennae in particular thrashing about. The spider had seven of its eight legs bracing on the wall, the other sticking up in the air, and had the bug seemingly in ts mouth, with what looked like small mandibles, extra to its legs, clamping down on it.
Slowly but surely, over about 45 minutes, the spider moved its grip up to the neck of the bug and it eventually ceased struggling and was immobile. The spider then took it up under the mural.
Nature is riveting.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Silence is Golden
I read in a letter to the Editor of the local 'Trader' last week of the writer's concerns at the number of jets flying over Emerald, day and night, seven days a week, and the associated noise. I have noticed the same thing at Gembrook for some time. We must be under a flight path that is becoming busier because I don't recall this level of air traffic before the last few years. The jet noise is not particularly loud as the planes are high and it isn't noticed above other noise, but it is loud enough to grate when it's otherwise quiet.
More annoying is the increasing road traffic noise of cars and trucks. AND MOTOR BIKES. For some reason lately it seems every weekend all the bike riders in Victoria gather in convoy and drive up and down Launching Place Rd. Added to that, I have neighbours who indulge in motor bikes. One in a particular, a man in his twenties, has a machine without a muffler and for some reason he starts it up about once a week and revs the bejiminy out of it till it is warmed then flies up and down the minor road between the properties for several sprints. This only goes on for about 15 minutes so it isn't worth complaining about, particularly when considered in light of the constant drone up the main road.
Another neighbour's son in his late teens has a drum set and practises in a steel shed for his rock band a couple of times a week. It only lasts for a half hour or so each stint so on it's own it is not worth complaining about, especially as I make my own share of noise with mower, whippysnipper and chainsaw on a regular basis, as indeed do all my neighbours.
If that isn't enough, there's a Rhodesian ridgeback dog immediately next door that doesn't like me going anywhere the fence. It booms loudly at my encroachment and keeps it up till I'm well away. And then the helicopters come over with their particularly reverberating blades, in higher numbers every year. I think they are police, ambulance and fire season ones. Sometimes one circles round and round for quite a while. Who would know why? Then there's the hooting foolishness of Puffing Billy who gets into the act most weekends. And screeching cockatoos. And wailing young King parrots nagging their parents for food.
There's no doubt Gembrook is no longer the quiet sleepy town of earlier times. Noise has escalated. I'm sure it isn't good for human stress levels and general well being. I think noise pollution is a bigger problem than is generally recognized. At least the heat wave conditions of mid January gave me some respite as man, beast and bird hid away. The cold and wet of winter will do the same.
Peace and quiet soothes the soul. Silence is golden.
More annoying is the increasing road traffic noise of cars and trucks. AND MOTOR BIKES. For some reason lately it seems every weekend all the bike riders in Victoria gather in convoy and drive up and down Launching Place Rd. Added to that, I have neighbours who indulge in motor bikes. One in a particular, a man in his twenties, has a machine without a muffler and for some reason he starts it up about once a week and revs the bejiminy out of it till it is warmed then flies up and down the minor road between the properties for several sprints. This only goes on for about 15 minutes so it isn't worth complaining about, particularly when considered in light of the constant drone up the main road.
Another neighbour's son in his late teens has a drum set and practises in a steel shed for his rock band a couple of times a week. It only lasts for a half hour or so each stint so on it's own it is not worth complaining about, especially as I make my own share of noise with mower, whippysnipper and chainsaw on a regular basis, as indeed do all my neighbours.
If that isn't enough, there's a Rhodesian ridgeback dog immediately next door that doesn't like me going anywhere the fence. It booms loudly at my encroachment and keeps it up till I'm well away. And then the helicopters come over with their particularly reverberating blades, in higher numbers every year. I think they are police, ambulance and fire season ones. Sometimes one circles round and round for quite a while. Who would know why? Then there's the hooting foolishness of Puffing Billy who gets into the act most weekends. And screeching cockatoos. And wailing young King parrots nagging their parents for food.
There's no doubt Gembrook is no longer the quiet sleepy town of earlier times. Noise has escalated. I'm sure it isn't good for human stress levels and general well being. I think noise pollution is a bigger problem than is generally recognized. At least the heat wave conditions of mid January gave me some respite as man, beast and bird hid away. The cold and wet of winter will do the same.
Peace and quiet soothes the soul. Silence is golden.
Tuesday, January 07, 2014
Washing Dishes
I came across this on Grist. I have always wanted to write up my preference for hand washing over dishwashers but somehow didn't get around to it. This does it well. I scrape off all food thoroughly, stack dishes neatly with cutlery on top and pour very hot water from the gas stove sparingly over the stack with a little detergent then brush and rinse items with ultrathin stream from tap. This uses minimal water and it makes washing dishes easy and enjoyable.
Q. I’d like to see fairer comparison of handwashing dishes vs. using a dishwasher. I calculated how much water I use washing dishes by hand efficiently (with a tub, not running water) and my highest use (by day) was the same as an efficient dishwasher. Most days, I use less. Also, I don’t run on electricity.
Saying that dishwashers always save water is misleading and only true in the circumstances most favorable for dishwashers and least favorable for hand-washers. Please revisit. I can’t be the only reader who knows they use far less water washing dishes by hand.
Beth R.
Sharon, Mass.
A. Dearest Beth,
Indeed, you are not the only astute reader who wrote in after my recent column on disposable vs. reusable dinnerware. And you’re right: Though the average washer of dishes will use far more water when scrubbing up by hand than when loading the dishwasher, I should have known my readers are far from average.
Let’s back up and take a look at the numbers: According to a widely cited European study, hand-cleaning 12 place settings guzzles, on average, 27 gallons of water. Compare that to a load in a new, Energy Star-certified dishwasher: All machines must use less than 5.8 gallons per cycle, and the best of the bunch sips just 1.95 gallons. The difference sounds stark, but that’s not the whole story.
In that study mentioned above, many of the test subjects – brace yourselves – ran the hot water continuously as they washed up. Some left the tap on even as they dried the dishes (!). Based on anecdotal observation from myself and others, this isn’t far from what plenty of Americans do, too. (My word, do they think clean water grows on trees?) It stands to reason that washing dishes with conservation in mind will use much less water. But with the kitchen sink spewing 3 to 5 gallons per minute, can the conscientious cleaner really beat the dishwasher standard of 2 gallons or less? I believe she can.
There are several methods you can use to do so. Take the “two sinks” strategy and the “tub within the sink” approach, both of which employ one basin of hot, soapy water and one cold-water rinsing bath. Another variation substitutes the rinse tub for an ultrathin stream of running tap water, shut off after the suds wash away. Then there’s this method modeled by permaculture guru Paul Wheaton, in which he stops up the sink and reuses rinse water as scrub water.
To increase your chances of success, scrape every bit of food you can into the compost before washing and do dishes quickly, before food has a chance to congeal. You can even install a faucet aerator to choke off the flow to a mere 1 gallon per minute. And if you reuse the greywaterto fill your toilet tank or water plants, you might not even have to count it against your dishwashing total.
So, let me state it loudly, and for the record: An energy-efficient dishwasher will not always beat a careful hand-washer in water savings.
I haven’t run this experiment myself, Beth, but I trust in your results. So much so that I have a New Year’s challenge for all hand-washing devotees out there: Put on your lab coat and find the absolute, rock-bottom amount of water necessary to get your dinnerware clean. Try the methods mentioned above, or create your own. Competition is a motivator, so it may help to jockey with your friends for position in the name of saving water. Strava for dishwashing, anyone?
Dehydratedly,
Umbra
Yours is to wonder why, hers is to answer (or try). Send your green-livingquestions to Umbra.For even more green goodness, you can follow Umbra on Twitter (@AskUmbra) or become a fan on Facebook.Umbra Fisk is Grist Research Associate II, Hardcover and Periodicals Unit, floors 2B-4B.
Bluebottle
On a hot day recently, it was the Saturday before last, I stooped down near where I park my van to see if the basil seed I had tossed in the adjacent garden was germinating. I was disappointed that I could see but one tiny seedling, but not surprised as I had not worked up the ground properly, had not watered nor put out snail protection.
I saw a cricket come out of a small hole and scurry along. It was followed by a bluebottle 'ant' which was in pursuit and quickly caught up whereupon it grappled the cricket bending its abdomen to sting. The bluebottle was a grand specimen appearing to be over 25mm in length yet shorter and finer than the bulky cricket, which broke free and took off only to be quickly overhauled and stung repeatedly by the thrusting abdomen. Soon the cricket was inert and the bluebottle dragged it with considerable exertion and manoeuvring around snags back to the hole and underground.
I knew that bluebottles are not ants but wingless female wasps, the male being smaller, winged and of different colouring, and that some wasps, particularly solitary wasps, capture other insects and bury them paralyzed by sting, laying their eggs on them so their hatching larvae have a ready food supply. I have watched 'spider killer' wasps catching spiders, and come across wasp nests containing multiple spiders.
I concluded that the bluebottle was doing this with the cricket. Tonight, before writing up this observation, I search engined bluebottles to find that this particular wasp is Diamma bicolor, the only wasp of the sub family Diamminae, and it hunts and feeds exclusively on mole crickets. How about that?
I can imagine that a bluebottle sting would be painful to humans. Apparently there is a danger of severe allergic reaction (anaphylaxis) in a small percentage of people, as there is with ants and bees. A friend of mine is allergic to jumping jack ants and has to carry medication to keep her conscious if she is stung, giving her a small amount of time to get to doctor or hospital for life saving injection. I knew a commercial beekeeper who had no problem with bee stings but a wasp sting was life threatening.
I saw a cricket come out of a small hole and scurry along. It was followed by a bluebottle 'ant' which was in pursuit and quickly caught up whereupon it grappled the cricket bending its abdomen to sting. The bluebottle was a grand specimen appearing to be over 25mm in length yet shorter and finer than the bulky cricket, which broke free and took off only to be quickly overhauled and stung repeatedly by the thrusting abdomen. Soon the cricket was inert and the bluebottle dragged it with considerable exertion and manoeuvring around snags back to the hole and underground.
I knew that bluebottles are not ants but wingless female wasps, the male being smaller, winged and of different colouring, and that some wasps, particularly solitary wasps, capture other insects and bury them paralyzed by sting, laying their eggs on them so their hatching larvae have a ready food supply. I have watched 'spider killer' wasps catching spiders, and come across wasp nests containing multiple spiders.
I concluded that the bluebottle was doing this with the cricket. Tonight, before writing up this observation, I search engined bluebottles to find that this particular wasp is Diamma bicolor, the only wasp of the sub family Diamminae, and it hunts and feeds exclusively on mole crickets. How about that?
I can imagine that a bluebottle sting would be painful to humans. Apparently there is a danger of severe allergic reaction (anaphylaxis) in a small percentage of people, as there is with ants and bees. A friend of mine is allergic to jumping jack ants and has to carry medication to keep her conscious if she is stung, giving her a small amount of time to get to doctor or hospital for life saving injection. I knew a commercial beekeeper who had no problem with bee stings but a wasp sting was life threatening.
Wednesday, January 01, 2014
Bird Treat
At Woody Head near Iluka on our recent holiday, it would have been the 19th November, Lib and I took an afternoon walk along the shore around the rocky point to the sandy beach which stretched toward Iluka and the mouth of the Clarence River.
It was a spectacular vista with views across water to Evan's Head where we had spent the 4 previous days. Storm clouds massed dark and threatening over the hills and smoke billowed from what we assumed was a sugar cane burn off, then rounding the point heading south in the distance we could see the Norfolk Island pines and high rise apartments at Yamba on the other side of the Clarence. The rocks and pools gave way to sand and the tide was out.
Returning, as we walked the edge of the beach where grass and scrub met the sand, two beautiful birds caught our attention as they settled close together on the naked twigs of a dead shrub. We both had a good look at them with Ian's binos. They had a chestnutty gold crown and chin with black across their eyes, strong beaks not quite as long and curved as honeyeaters and paler chests and olive green wings with a touch of blue. When they flew the blue was more pronounced. It was a light blue, almost irredescent. Strong flyers, they moved from place to place before settling and watching us for a minute or two at a time.
They were medium sized, a little longer than common blackbird, especially in the tail.
I didn't check the bird book when we got back to camp, we were busy setting up a tarp ahead of the approaching storm and preparing for dinner and lighting a fire in the barbecue fireplace. As it turned out the thunder and lightning show started and the heavy rain followed as we began to cook, Lib with an umbrella on the barby and me under the tarp on the gas stove. It was serious rain for a couple of hours or so.
Next morning the mozzies were thick and aggressive and we decided to pack up and move on as soon as things dried out in the brilliant morning sunshine. I didn't get to check the bird book to identify the beauties we saw but I wasn't worried, they were so distinctive and colourful that I thought they'd be easy to find as I wouldn't forget their features. As it happened a couple of weeks went by before I sat down at home to look them up and I could not find them at all, which baffled me.
Then at last on Saturday just gone I picked up another bird book and found them quickly much to my immense satisfaction. Rainbow Bee-eaters they were. Not really bee-eaters according to the book as they eat any insects, bees among them, they should be called rainbow bowerbirds it suggested. They are migratory and quite common, even in Victoria apparently from time to time, although I'd seen them infrequently enough in my time to not know what they were, leading me to think their commonality is more a northern thing. They nest in sand dunes and banks with the entrance protected from prevailing weather and seem to have inbuilt weather instinct, the book said.
Our birds were juveniles I think, I didn't see the the black under the chin and the green was more olivey
It was a spectacular vista with views across water to Evan's Head where we had spent the 4 previous days. Storm clouds massed dark and threatening over the hills and smoke billowed from what we assumed was a sugar cane burn off, then rounding the point heading south in the distance we could see the Norfolk Island pines and high rise apartments at Yamba on the other side of the Clarence. The rocks and pools gave way to sand and the tide was out.
Returning, as we walked the edge of the beach where grass and scrub met the sand, two beautiful birds caught our attention as they settled close together on the naked twigs of a dead shrub. We both had a good look at them with Ian's binos. They had a chestnutty gold crown and chin with black across their eyes, strong beaks not quite as long and curved as honeyeaters and paler chests and olive green wings with a touch of blue. When they flew the blue was more pronounced. It was a light blue, almost irredescent. Strong flyers, they moved from place to place before settling and watching us for a minute or two at a time.
They were medium sized, a little longer than common blackbird, especially in the tail.
I didn't check the bird book when we got back to camp, we were busy setting up a tarp ahead of the approaching storm and preparing for dinner and lighting a fire in the barbecue fireplace. As it turned out the thunder and lightning show started and the heavy rain followed as we began to cook, Lib with an umbrella on the barby and me under the tarp on the gas stove. It was serious rain for a couple of hours or so.
Next morning the mozzies were thick and aggressive and we decided to pack up and move on as soon as things dried out in the brilliant morning sunshine. I didn't get to check the bird book to identify the beauties we saw but I wasn't worried, they were so distinctive and colourful that I thought they'd be easy to find as I wouldn't forget their features. As it happened a couple of weeks went by before I sat down at home to look them up and I could not find them at all, which baffled me.
Then at last on Saturday just gone I picked up another bird book and found them quickly much to my immense satisfaction. Rainbow Bee-eaters they were. Not really bee-eaters according to the book as they eat any insects, bees among them, they should be called rainbow bowerbirds it suggested. They are migratory and quite common, even in Victoria apparently from time to time, although I'd seen them infrequently enough in my time to not know what they were, leading me to think their commonality is more a northern thing. They nest in sand dunes and banks with the entrance protected from prevailing weather and seem to have inbuilt weather instinct, the book said.
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| Our birds were seen near here |
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| Towards north |
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| The point The beauty of these birds and the magic setting stand as a highlight of 2013. |
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Holiday Wrap 4
The next day we travelled through beautiful farmland, Cowra,Young, Cootamundra, Junee, to Wagga Wagga then Jindera. It was great to renew with Dave and Pam Suters. Dave is retired, but has a farm of a few hundred acres to keep him active and a big vegie garden. Pam still works, at Woolworths. We had a barbie and chewed the fat.
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Good mates
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| We stayed with our great friends Di and Ow |
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| On our way home we visited Moll and Bill |
Holiday Wrap 3
We drove slowly into Yamba, on the opposite (south) side of the Clarence River to Illuka. thinking we'd stay one night only and make our way leisurely through NSW to Jindera near Albury, fishing in creeks and rivers along the way, where I had arranged to be with my long standing friend Dave Suters on the 23 Nov.
The caravan park manager said he had nothing available for one night, but a cabin for two nights. We took it and had an wonderful couple of days at Yamba, a fantastic holiday place, a mixture of raw natural beauty and modern development and commerce, with so much to see and do in the close proximity. By this point we were totally blown away by the magnificent scenery we had experienced in SE Qld and northern NSW.
Not to mention the contrast through central NSW with its rich cultural heritage and inland calm. It is unbelievable almost, what a wonderful country it is.
The weather at Yamba was perfect, the storms had stopped. We fished and fished but didn't catch anything, it didn't matter.
From Yamba we had two days to get to Jindera. Over the range and through the guts. Magnificent country. Rich farmland, but dry as for the most part. After 10 hours driving we got to Mudgee, a big storm hit as we did late in the day. The whole town almost was booked out, there was a festival of sorts on, we eventually found a Park cabin some way out of town, by the skin of our teeth. It turned out a lucky break.
The caravan park manager said he had nothing available for one night, but a cabin for two nights. We took it and had an wonderful couple of days at Yamba, a fantastic holiday place, a mixture of raw natural beauty and modern development and commerce, with so much to see and do in the close proximity. By this point we were totally blown away by the magnificent scenery we had experienced in SE Qld and northern NSW.
Not to mention the contrast through central NSW with its rich cultural heritage and inland calm. It is unbelievable almost, what a wonderful country it is.
The weather at Yamba was perfect, the storms had stopped. We fished and fished but didn't catch anything, it didn't matter.
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| This kid was 7 years old, I spoke to his parents |
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| Good try Lib, but no fish |
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| Young lovers on the Yamba breakwater |
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It had a big old shearing shed with cooking facilities, table tennis, billiards,and an old duke box. I played Neil Diamond and Simon and Garfunkel and Bob Dylan
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Holiday Wrap 2
Ian and Jethro left us in August and we didn't hear from him for a couple of months so I emailed asking how he was and how had he settled down to life back in Canada. He replied that he had been seriously ill and had done two stints in hospital. At first he thought his lack of energy was jet lag but it didn't go away and he was diagnosed with psittacosis or parrot fever. The severity of this illness is variable but he was very ill. It affects the lungs and the brain and is treated with antibiotics.
So we did not let the birds walk on us as they tried to do and as we observed them doing with the overseas tourists at the O'Reilly's Lodge where the birds are fed seed daily as a tourist amusement as they have been for several decades. I wondered how many of those tourists would be crook a month later.
Interesting also on the subject of birds, was the large area of dead trees we passed through near Kyogle in NSW. Noticeable was the pinging of bellbirds. Again, after we left Yamba and crossed the Divide on a minor road somewhere near Ebor there were large areas of dead trees and again the mournful pinging that accompanies, that which we used to have at home before the the 2009 heatwave that caused the bellbirds to move on, which I posted about soon after.
Ian recommended that we stay at Woody Head near Illuka, where the campground is on the beach almost. Leaving Evan's Head we did so, less than an hour's drive. A beautiful place.
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| We set up a tarp from van to trees |
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| Check out the the storm clouds |
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| A serious storm in the making |
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| Big roo went for swim |
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| It rained all through cooking and eating, we ate off our laps in the car |
The morning after, as much as we loved it at Woody Head, the mozzies and biting flies settled it for us, we moved on.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Holiday Wrap Up
A couple of weeks have gone by since my last post. I've been too tired at night to write. I just want to sit and watch a bit of TV or go to bed and sleep. I have been so busy with work and many things. But tired as I am tonight, and with an aching ankle that I must have stretched climbing a tree today, I do want to continue my summary of our holiday in November. My intention is to condense two weeks into a short post so that I can move on to more recent thoughts in my next post.
Day 4 we went to Noosa. The freeway system with all the exits onto roudabouts had us going round and round. I have never seen so many roundabouts. Because of all the rotations the signs to localities all seemed out of kilter to my inbuilt sense of direction after looking at maps. I was totally bamboozled. When we did get somewhere where there may well have been nice beaches nearby it was terribly crowded and parking was a problem. The whole area seemed to be highly developed along some US style plan. Frankly it gave us the the Heebeejeebies and we quickly got out of there.
On the way out we did find a great place after following a sign to a lookout where the views were 360 and spectacular, somewhere close to Cooroy. There was a school group learning to abseil down the rock face. We took the Mary Valley Tourist road to Gympie where we did a shop and headed back to Eumendie for lunch. Lovely scenery along the Blackall range to Maleny where we looked for accomm, settling on a cabin in a tourist park on the way down the hill to Landsborough. Frankly it was a bit of a dump and overpriced and a co-tenant sang country songs half the night so we hit the road south next day having determined to get to the Lamington National Park to spend the next couple of days, We drove straight through Brisbane on the freeway turning off at Nerang.
After a look at Binna Burra (we didn't like the camp site they gave us, right next to a kiosk thing) we moved on to O'Reilly's campground and put up our little tent. The scenery on the way up was sensational, it was an hours climb up from Canungra along some very narrow and windy roads. With our little butane gas stoves we cooked up a feed of lamb chops and just beat the thunderstorm which crashed all around. It rained pretty hard for a few hours but we kept dry in the tent.
We stayed two nights and loved the rainforest, the abundant bird life and the walks.
The second night was another storm, we just managed to get dinner in before the deluge.
By this time we still hadn't visited a beach or put a rod in so we farewelled Lamington and headed towards Evan's Head via Beaudesert, Kyogle, Casino an Lismore. We lunched by a little creek near Grevillea where I saw a Scarlet Headed honeyeaters. We drove through a fierce storm near Lismore.
We booked a cabin at Evan's Head for three nights and loved our stay there so stayed a fourth.We couldn't catch a fish but we did get caught one evening fishing without the Aerogard and were mercilessly bitten by sandflies which caused us grief for weeks after with unbelievable itchiness. We had a storm close by every night.
Tiredness is claiming me. I'll have to go to bed. I'll finish the holiday tomorrow night.
Day 4 we went to Noosa. The freeway system with all the exits onto roudabouts had us going round and round. I have never seen so many roundabouts. Because of all the rotations the signs to localities all seemed out of kilter to my inbuilt sense of direction after looking at maps. I was totally bamboozled. When we did get somewhere where there may well have been nice beaches nearby it was terribly crowded and parking was a problem. The whole area seemed to be highly developed along some US style plan. Frankly it gave us the the Heebeejeebies and we quickly got out of there.
On the way out we did find a great place after following a sign to a lookout where the views were 360 and spectacular, somewhere close to Cooroy. There was a school group learning to abseil down the rock face. We took the Mary Valley Tourist road to Gympie where we did a shop and headed back to Eumendie for lunch. Lovely scenery along the Blackall range to Maleny where we looked for accomm, settling on a cabin in a tourist park on the way down the hill to Landsborough. Frankly it was a bit of a dump and overpriced and a co-tenant sang country songs half the night so we hit the road south next day having determined to get to the Lamington National Park to spend the next couple of days, We drove straight through Brisbane on the freeway turning off at Nerang.
After a look at Binna Burra (we didn't like the camp site they gave us, right next to a kiosk thing) we moved on to O'Reilly's campground and put up our little tent. The scenery on the way up was sensational, it was an hours climb up from Canungra along some very narrow and windy roads. With our little butane gas stoves we cooked up a feed of lamb chops and just beat the thunderstorm which crashed all around. It rained pretty hard for a few hours but we kept dry in the tent.
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| Morgan's Falls |
By this time we still hadn't visited a beach or put a rod in so we farewelled Lamington and headed towards Evan's Head via Beaudesert, Kyogle, Casino an Lismore. We lunched by a little creek near Grevillea where I saw a Scarlet Headed honeyeaters. We drove through a fierce storm near Lismore.
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| Dingo Creek |
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| I must be a crook fisherman, but I don't mind, I don't like killing the poor things these days |
Tiredness is claiming me. I'll have to go to bed. I'll finish the holiday tomorrow night.
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