For us here in the Antipodes Spring, and all its renewables is just around the corner. August,for me, is always a profound month,details of which I shall not bore you with except to add that it concerns the 28th and 1972. As a result some Augusts become watersheds of agendas,the setting of , at times completions of. I'm talking about leap forwards, change, moving on and all that entails. That I do so at this time is not through some mystical force of habit but is in part due to how everything else is changing around me. This year I feel is going to be special,there is such an energy about, not just in my garden but in the park opposite and in Nature per se. I noted earlier this year that the parrots and lorikeets had outstanding colour in their coats . The year forward has borne that out , we have had good rains with the prospect of a nice folllow up lot to come. Looking out of the window at breakfast this morning,I saw a group of Adelaide Eastern Rosellas fly past to land in the large gums across the road,there to feed.Their coats were so brightly coloured in an almost luminescent green the morning sun glinted off them. My fruit trees out in back have got blossom on, the buzzy bees are even at this early hour are working hard.So, what do you think,let's go get 'em , aye....move on ,change, up and at life big time....just do it ! IT"S TIME The picture I post is from the front seat of my car as it barrells along the Calder Highway (Victoria) ,note the ice in the ditch to picture left,it was early morning and damn cold. Driving towards something new is always for me a metaphor for change, as this trip was, so shall it be done.
Done it has been.You might have guessed that the above was written some days ago, or perhaps it really doesn't matter as this write is for the here and now, this instant,forthwith etc etc. I once participated in a judgement where the presiding Judge made an order forthwith,lovely word that, resonates with not only a natural sound of deliberation but one of finality coupled with great purpose. Back to the object in hand, it is so that I as an individual have done some nice things,some good things,one or three really great things and some not so very nice things. Of the not so very nice that I speak about at this moment. Refer to November 1972, after the events of August of that year, I resolved that the not so very nice things should be expunged from the slate of the robbi life.That is all the folk that had been wronged at my hand would be contacted by all and any means, and properly apologised to, asked forgiveness for and/or if possible absolution. Over much time ,lots of effort, all the addresses,phone numbers etc etc were laid before me so I bent to the task. We aren't talking about hundreds here, there were to my memory about 15, no more than that. Really though 15 is enough isn't it?
Did my thing over about a week, two rang me as they had been rung by another ,saying not to worry I can't remember you anyway. But have a guess just how many did care or want to get me to say 'Mea Culpa' ? Right, you have it in one, not one person actually cared less. This of course had me in a quandry, did I matter so little that even my boorish ways went unnoticed, was I so insignificant that even peeing into Jane's tuba in a drunken stupor mattered naught? Was the night I spent locked in Christine's loo because I couldn't find my way out causing the rest of the guests to use the bushes outside whilst I slept in the bath oblivious, was that not a hanging offence? Perhaps not, it may be if course that these good folk saw the mirth in the situations described , chuckle mightily over the years , then turn them into amusing dinner anectdotes to amaze their collective A list friends. All that did leave me a trifle deflated, not dispirited mind, just a wee bit flat.( no pun intended). That this exercise is not repeated each August is down to the fact my long suffering Hortense keeps me from uttering a word about November 1972, a good thing as well. But in reality, I do miss the hair shirt a little.
The movie today was spot on wasn't it Horty old girl. You concur, well that is a turn- up for the books, normally you disgaree immediately. District9,odd title that but that really was the whole point wasn't it so Hortense, just referring obliquely to Apartheid actually. We grew up with that you see Horty, most of our younger readers would have no idea just how bad that time was. Nelson Mandela incarcerated in that dreadful prison, the man must be a saint the way he came out of there with so much dignity. Talking about saints Hortense, at Cocolat the lass who made our gelato today was a little humdinger wasn't she. Such large and generous scoops she gave, sublime wasn't it, of course I'm talking about the gelato Hortense, what else?
Saturday, 22 August 2009
Sunday, 2 August 2009
ink marks on a blank page Sun 2nd Aug
I have been away visiting family in another state,no, I don't take a laptop with me to keep up with anything. Neither do I Twitter,sms, except in emergency, hate calling folk whenever and where-ever, so if I should go places then I go silently. Not that I decry anyone the use of those ,or in fact any, forms of communication, just prefer not to use them myself. We have an unwritten law in my house, no-one rings here after 9-30 ,unless of course www3 has erupted and I am to be called up to go back in the navy.Do they take white haired old curmudgeons?
Possibly wouldn't go anyway, I never did get on with Navy life, far to straight backed for my liking,more fond of chaos me. Some funny ,or rather odd things have befallen I lately.Went in for an eye check up, a regular thing for me, my consultant said that I needed some immediate laser surgery.So that threw me al ittle but like the trooper that I am did as he asked ,the rub was though it took another 6weeks to find out if the laser had done its trick . Mother and the priests always told me that it would send me blind, well not yet . Y'all know me well enough by now to remember that I don't hold much truck with holy orders, prefer to take a more realist view on life. Should some of you, even all of you out there in blogsphere, take the more fundementalist tack then good for you, a belief system is fine it is just that I know why a jumbo can fly. The good folk at Boeing made it so, that's why.
My physical presence at the time of this epiphany was in a Catholic private school and at the time of the 'bolt from the blue' I was possibly about 10. We used to have a mass on friday morning and the bishop used to make a special effort to give us a rousing harange or three.
My normal thing was then,still is, to sit at the very front of any lecture, this day was no different. I think that I had worked out at a very early age that when sitting right in the front row you only ever got noticed once,answer corectly and sit quietly then for the rest of the time ,nobody bothers with you.
There I was,sort of awake but not, father was in full flight,when all of a sudden he straightened, raised both arms high in the air, the Lord will save the sinners he shouted.With this I woke with a start and there in front of me was fathers un-polished dirty street shoes and two missmatched socks. Shocked, I stood bolt upright and in full reedy ten year old voice cried out"Jesus wears dirty shoes and wrong socks" Naturally at this point the whole church, shocked by fathers stentorian voice fell deathly quiet so my piping little tinkle was heard all over,possibly into the street beyond. You might wonder at why I said that this was my epiphany, my fall from grace if you will. Think on this,for as a student in a Catholic school the priests and nuns were the living embodiment of Him, to us mere little pip-squeaky students anyway.To see father wearing dirty shoes and wrong socks was a revelation, he WAS human, just like Mr.Easterly the old drunky man who always wore wrong socks and whose shoes were never clean,God was only human y'see. Oh what a downward spiral from there folks, but yes it was, fun too I might add.
What did Billy Joel say,"Id rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints"
Please Hortense don't be like that,of course the good folk wont think I have horns or anything like that. Blog persons are well read intelligent people who have a balanced view on life. You don't think our leaders are like that Horty? you think that they are clutzes of the first order who should know better because we pay them heaps and give them lots of time at home.COuld be true old girl, this lot federally are not much good are they?Can you list one actual thing that they have done right since coming into power,all falls over doesn't it. The schools fiasco,broadband/building houses for the remote aborigines/ all students to have a pc/the health system , darn the list is not only endless, it's hopeless. You read the each house they are to build in remote areas for aborigines will cost $750k, that might be the reason they haven't built one yet. Not bad for a promise that no aboriginal family would be homeless by the end of 2009, there are about 3000 families need housing immediately too, work that out at $750k a house. Got an apology too Hortense, no Cocolat this week m'dear, got to take the car in for the 15k service and housework needs doing, next week then okay.
Possibly wouldn't go anyway, I never did get on with Navy life, far to straight backed for my liking,more fond of chaos me. Some funny ,or rather odd things have befallen I lately.Went in for an eye check up, a regular thing for me, my consultant said that I needed some immediate laser surgery.So that threw me al ittle but like the trooper that I am did as he asked ,the rub was though it took another 6weeks to find out if the laser had done its trick . Mother and the priests always told me that it would send me blind, well not yet . Y'all know me well enough by now to remember that I don't hold much truck with holy orders, prefer to take a more realist view on life. Should some of you, even all of you out there in blogsphere, take the more fundementalist tack then good for you, a belief system is fine it is just that I know why a jumbo can fly. The good folk at Boeing made it so, that's why.
My physical presence at the time of this epiphany was in a Catholic private school and at the time of the 'bolt from the blue' I was possibly about 10. We used to have a mass on friday morning and the bishop used to make a special effort to give us a rousing harange or three.
My normal thing was then,still is, to sit at the very front of any lecture, this day was no different. I think that I had worked out at a very early age that when sitting right in the front row you only ever got noticed once,answer corectly and sit quietly then for the rest of the time ,nobody bothers with you.
There I was,sort of awake but not, father was in full flight,when all of a sudden he straightened, raised both arms high in the air, the Lord will save the sinners he shouted.With this I woke with a start and there in front of me was fathers un-polished dirty street shoes and two missmatched socks. Shocked, I stood bolt upright and in full reedy ten year old voice cried out"Jesus wears dirty shoes and wrong socks" Naturally at this point the whole church, shocked by fathers stentorian voice fell deathly quiet so my piping little tinkle was heard all over,possibly into the street beyond. You might wonder at why I said that this was my epiphany, my fall from grace if you will. Think on this,for as a student in a Catholic school the priests and nuns were the living embodiment of Him, to us mere little pip-squeaky students anyway.To see father wearing dirty shoes and wrong socks was a revelation, he WAS human, just like Mr.Easterly the old drunky man who always wore wrong socks and whose shoes were never clean,God was only human y'see. Oh what a downward spiral from there folks, but yes it was, fun too I might add.
What did Billy Joel say,"Id rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints"
Please Hortense don't be like that,of course the good folk wont think I have horns or anything like that. Blog persons are well read intelligent people who have a balanced view on life. You don't think our leaders are like that Horty? you think that they are clutzes of the first order who should know better because we pay them heaps and give them lots of time at home.COuld be true old girl, this lot federally are not much good are they?Can you list one actual thing that they have done right since coming into power,all falls over doesn't it. The schools fiasco,broadband/building houses for the remote aborigines/ all students to have a pc/the health system , darn the list is not only endless, it's hopeless. You read the each house they are to build in remote areas for aborigines will cost $750k, that might be the reason they haven't built one yet. Not bad for a promise that no aboriginal family would be homeless by the end of 2009, there are about 3000 families need housing immediately too, work that out at $750k a house. Got an apology too Hortense, no Cocolat this week m'dear, got to take the car in for the 15k service and housework needs doing, next week then okay.
Wednesday, 8 July 2009
ink marks on a blank page Thurs 9th July
Odd little things move me, snatches of song, a different bird darting in an out of a bush or flower, something someone or a child says...I stop , if I can, and try to fix that point of time in my mind.Then in a quiet moment, a reflect on the day time, reclaim that 'thing' from my recent past. I am particularly fond of Leonard Cohen(songs) for that, though one can hardly call them songs as he really doesn't sing as in speak with a golden voice.. They are for the most part histories that are linked with music and written in a poetic form. Music that forms the base of my listening though is classical, but anything that is played well and if it has words,the words will have to mean something profound .
Here in OZ there are lots of fine musos who can write good lyrics and great melodies that compliment the lyric. Many years ago I knew a young fellow,Doug Ashdown ,who wrote many wonderful songs and then at the height of his acclaim here went off to America and wrote a song called 'Winter in America'. Youtube it, as it still gets lots of plays and was a major No 1hit for Doug 30years ago. Whenever I play that song I see Doug on the back of his brothers Triumph motorcycle riding up to the Koffee Cup in Glenelg and then the brain clicks back to that part of life. Coming out of the clock radio tuesday morning as I got up was a song by a local group(melbourne) Little Heroes, called 'One Perfect Day'. Oh but I got some memory mileage out of that. We all have songs which will strike a bell in our collective memory stream, they have words which resonate and glue certain happenings into place, good or bad.Such was 'One Perfect Day', and it was in the throes of all that introspection that found me staring at the still water in my sweet spot on the river, that of the bend where the water rat has its domicile.
Looking at the reflections took me back to my childhood when on Remembrance day we would gather at the War Memorial and listen to the Dawn service. Pretty bog standard issue Memorial this was with a large cross, marble statues of warlike angels and in front a large still pool in which all was reflected. That's the key isn't it? a large pool in which everything was reflected.As a child I wondered why there was a pool there ,never asked my elders mind, perhaps I thought it was just such a straightforward unecessary question, one of those things that even a small boy should know without even asking. Must have been about my 3rd or 4th Dawn service when I was standing there wondering why we were there when I saw reflected in the pool a large bird flying overhead, an eagle or something similar.Reflected in the pool it flew the length of the still water then all of a sudden I knew why there was a pool there, basically as well I also figured out why we were there too.
So I stand at the bend in the river most morns, not if it is raining of course,I might be different but I do know to come in out of the rain, gazing at the reflections of life as it unfolds in Paradise. Y'see I can watch the goings on in the trees opposite,reflected so clearly in the River Torrens. Gaze undisturbed at the parrots ,lorikeets and magpies flying in and out of the crowns of the trees on the other bank.Squabbling,shrieking ,hooting at each other whilst all the time trying to get in their daily rations. Perhaps that is how my bird calling man started his calling,the walking up and down furiously waving arms and hooting might just have been a reflection of what he saw there too.Notice I said have been, a semantic reference to the fact I haven't seen him for ten days, most unusual,most disturbing. Shame that you, the viewers, can't see what I see in my living camera obscura, life unfolding undisturbed on a daily basis.Should you be like me ,rise early,move about doing your thing in the house then go out walking you see and hear different birds ,creatures doing their collective thing at different but similar times each day.
The earliest risers here are the noisy miners, then the magpies/ducks/ibis followed by moorhens/cooters/lorikeets -grass parrots . The honey eaters arrive about 9 or later depending on the warmth of the day. The din that these birds make is wonderful,no wonder that St.Saens composed his'carnival of the Animals'.
So that is the start of the robbi day, a reflection on what has passed and passes overhead. Hortense worries that I do a little more reflecting than I should, perhaps, but I love my life and to reflect back on even the bad bits is cathartic and food for my meagre soul.
Here in OZ there are lots of fine musos who can write good lyrics and great melodies that compliment the lyric. Many years ago I knew a young fellow,Doug Ashdown ,who wrote many wonderful songs and then at the height of his acclaim here went off to America and wrote a song called 'Winter in America'. Youtube it, as it still gets lots of plays and was a major No 1hit for Doug 30years ago. Whenever I play that song I see Doug on the back of his brothers Triumph motorcycle riding up to the Koffee Cup in Glenelg and then the brain clicks back to that part of life. Coming out of the clock radio tuesday morning as I got up was a song by a local group(melbourne) Little Heroes, called 'One Perfect Day'. Oh but I got some memory mileage out of that. We all have songs which will strike a bell in our collective memory stream, they have words which resonate and glue certain happenings into place, good or bad.Such was 'One Perfect Day', and it was in the throes of all that introspection that found me staring at the still water in my sweet spot on the river, that of the bend where the water rat has its domicile.
Looking at the reflections took me back to my childhood when on Remembrance day we would gather at the War Memorial and listen to the Dawn service. Pretty bog standard issue Memorial this was with a large cross, marble statues of warlike angels and in front a large still pool in which all was reflected. That's the key isn't it? a large pool in which everything was reflected.As a child I wondered why there was a pool there ,never asked my elders mind, perhaps I thought it was just such a straightforward unecessary question, one of those things that even a small boy should know without even asking. Must have been about my 3rd or 4th Dawn service when I was standing there wondering why we were there when I saw reflected in the pool a large bird flying overhead, an eagle or something similar.Reflected in the pool it flew the length of the still water then all of a sudden I knew why there was a pool there, basically as well I also figured out why we were there too.
So I stand at the bend in the river most morns, not if it is raining of course,I might be different but I do know to come in out of the rain, gazing at the reflections of life as it unfolds in Paradise. Y'see I can watch the goings on in the trees opposite,reflected so clearly in the River Torrens. Gaze undisturbed at the parrots ,lorikeets and magpies flying in and out of the crowns of the trees on the other bank.Squabbling,shrieking ,hooting at each other whilst all the time trying to get in their daily rations. Perhaps that is how my bird calling man started his calling,the walking up and down furiously waving arms and hooting might just have been a reflection of what he saw there too.Notice I said have been, a semantic reference to the fact I haven't seen him for ten days, most unusual,most disturbing. Shame that you, the viewers, can't see what I see in my living camera obscura, life unfolding undisturbed on a daily basis.Should you be like me ,rise early,move about doing your thing in the house then go out walking you see and hear different birds ,creatures doing their collective thing at different but similar times each day.
The earliest risers here are the noisy miners, then the magpies/ducks/ibis followed by moorhens/cooters/lorikeets -grass parrots . The honey eaters arrive about 9 or later depending on the warmth of the day. The din that these birds make is wonderful,no wonder that St.Saens composed his'carnival of the Animals'.
So that is the start of the robbi day, a reflection on what has passed and passes overhead. Hortense worries that I do a little more reflecting than I should, perhaps, but I love my life and to reflect back on even the bad bits is cathartic and food for my meagre soul.
Monday, 6 July 2009
ink marks on a blank page Mon 6th July
Each morning ,rain or shine , I trundle out of the house just on dawn and go for a walk along a pathway that winds around the banks of a little river . This is not a iver in the majestic sense of the term but a wee small thing that is more a creek than river, although we like to adopt a position of grandeur and call it river. Mostly I take my camera and push said machine into the face of any of the wild things that inhabit the water way.Often I have managed to photograph some once in a lifetime pics, once a pair of Kingfishers fighting in mid air, the water rat going about its business, one that lives on my favourite bend in the river. A woodduck flew up in front of me, kept flying straight towards me at head height, I managed to get the camera up and fire off a few shots as it got close. Then there have been numerous times that I have seen rare birds scurrying about in the reeds and also times when I have seen where an Echidna has been.
Lots and lots of different trees that have bent and twisted into weird shapes, many beautiful parrots and my great mates the magpies. Crows are another favourite too, as when I lived way up in the desert country the only sound you could hear sometimes , apart from your own and the horses breath was the cawing of crows.They became good travelling companions even though clad as they are in funereal garb and are hurtful cruel creatures , when there is nobody else we cling to any companion do we not.
But my main exercise lately has been to look at trees, and just in this one stretch of our park where I walk there are at least thirty species. There are some that are indigenous to the area, others that are native but from other states but grow and prosper here, and there are those that are from other countries. One such is the pepper tree, not a genuine pepper of course but an exotic lovely tree all the same. A native of South America and Mexico actually and not at all indigenous to OZ although many grow here, and very well too. So much so they are regarded as a pest and a noxious weed . Go to any country town in OZ and you will find the pepper tree planted everywhere. There are quite a number in our park here, possibly some that were planted by the river as the early farms got established along the way, others of course sprouted from seeds ingested by birds. Many country butchers used the larger offcuts to make chopping blocks for quartering up their meat, they were much prized for that purpose in the dryer country towns.Relatively slow growing they do however have a long life and even though they are not native I personally have a very fond attachment to them. My first true love and I had a tree house in a massive big pepper tree that had a leaf spread that was all of forty feet across and so dense with branches that wept,drooped, down to the ground. I wrote a poem about her last year as she still figures in my thoughts after more than 50 years.The older trees grow galls on their trunks that we used to see 'things' in, then we would carve the gall to fit the image we could see, I shall try and do the same to the one pictured as I think that there is the hint of a baboon there on that large gall on the left (midway up). Perhaps one needs to be either a child or regressing toward that state to see it.Forgive me an indulgence, as I re-read this I thought once more about my pepper tree love, so will post the poem(again) although it concerns not pepper trees but a tidal creek and a very warm and languid Autumn afternoon (and I am overcome with the emotion of remembrance),but it is about love ( of which I am most fond).
oh shirley
pirouette of my childhood
redgold autumn hair glinting in dusty sun,
you laughed and teased
spun dreams with indelible lies,
and bade me love you
for I did
warm memories of forever summers
and hidden fumbles
etched your heart on my soul,
as the days spread open you blithely danced your schemes
whilst I segued my way through each tangled web ,
then waited in weary eagerness for night and sleep,
just another passage to the doorway of your history becoming my dreams
we watched the autumn dragonflies
as they flew joined in loves grace together ,
kissing still green water then once ,
you said we could do that
as all innocents have and will, we did
perhaps it was then ;
when the taste of your saltiness awakened lust
I knew that this was where life began
the child had left ,
we had lost the icon of youth,
summer magic became just a fleeting season
the days were simply numbered hours ,
sleep reclaimed the night
age overcame the reason
Lots and lots of different trees that have bent and twisted into weird shapes, many beautiful parrots and my great mates the magpies. Crows are another favourite too, as when I lived way up in the desert country the only sound you could hear sometimes , apart from your own and the horses breath was the cawing of crows.They became good travelling companions even though clad as they are in funereal garb and are hurtful cruel creatures , when there is nobody else we cling to any companion do we not.
But my main exercise lately has been to look at trees, and just in this one stretch of our park where I walk there are at least thirty species. There are some that are indigenous to the area, others that are native but from other states but grow and prosper here, and there are those that are from other countries. One such is the pepper tree, not a genuine pepper of course but an exotic lovely tree all the same. A native of South America and Mexico actually and not at all indigenous to OZ although many grow here, and very well too. So much so they are regarded as a pest and a noxious weed . Go to any country town in OZ and you will find the pepper tree planted everywhere. There are quite a number in our park here, possibly some that were planted by the river as the early farms got established along the way, others of course sprouted from seeds ingested by birds. Many country butchers used the larger offcuts to make chopping blocks for quartering up their meat, they were much prized for that purpose in the dryer country towns.Relatively slow growing they do however have a long life and even though they are not native I personally have a very fond attachment to them. My first true love and I had a tree house in a massive big pepper tree that had a leaf spread that was all of forty feet across and so dense with branches that wept,drooped, down to the ground. I wrote a poem about her last year as she still figures in my thoughts after more than 50 years.The older trees grow galls on their trunks that we used to see 'things' in, then we would carve the gall to fit the image we could see, I shall try and do the same to the one pictured as I think that there is the hint of a baboon there on that large gall on the left (midway up). Perhaps one needs to be either a child or regressing toward that state to see it.Forgive me an indulgence, as I re-read this I thought once more about my pepper tree love, so will post the poem(again) although it concerns not pepper trees but a tidal creek and a very warm and languid Autumn afternoon (and I am overcome with the emotion of remembrance),but it is about love ( of which I am most fond).
oh shirley
pirouette of my childhood
redgold autumn hair glinting in dusty sun,
you laughed and teased
spun dreams with indelible lies,
and bade me love you
for I did
warm memories of forever summers
and hidden fumbles
etched your heart on my soul,
as the days spread open you blithely danced your schemes
whilst I segued my way through each tangled web ,
then waited in weary eagerness for night and sleep,
just another passage to the doorway of your history becoming my dreams
we watched the autumn dragonflies
as they flew joined in loves grace together ,
kissing still green water then once ,
you said we could do that
as all innocents have and will, we did
perhaps it was then ;
when the taste of your saltiness awakened lust
I knew that this was where life began
the child had left ,
we had lost the icon of youth,
summer magic became just a fleeting season
the days were simply numbered hours ,
sleep reclaimed the night
age overcame the reason
Saturday, 27 June 2009
ink marks on a blank page Monday 29th June
Slightly damp this Am and I had to set off earlier than usual so attired myself suitably and swanned off into the gray dawn,tinged slightly pink by a weak, albeit slowly rising sun. Each morning I wander down to the bend in my river to try and get a pic of the water rat as it wends its way home from getting in the days shop,or whatever water rats do of a night.Mostly all i get to photograph is the ripples where said rat dives as it spies me or hears laboured robbi breathing as i lumber to view. Sometimes on the opposite bank a gentleman appears who marches up and down making bird calls. These aren't your everyday strangled childish attempts, like graggggh/hoot, they are full bloodied exact cries of parrot/crow/magpie/duck and other assorted winged creatures. Not all at once mind ,but done on seperate days and normally in various ways.As a parrot he runs about busy like,magpie calls, he is studied in movements etc etc etc, you get the picture, do you not? Sort of in costume if you may, he finishes the cry of the day and strides away at a majestic pace not to be seen for some days, I know that 'cos i go to that spot each day and he only appears about once a week,or in a busy birdy time ,twice. This day (saturday) he was there on the opposite bank uttering cries of great distress like a badly love sick moorhen, but a very very agitated one as he was pacing about most furiously,flailing arms and hooting quite loudly. I do not fear for my safety as I am firmly ensconced on the opposing bank and unless he actually can take on all the characteristics of a bird and fly, I feel quite safe, for myself.. Alas I do feel a trifled concerned for his condtion as with the addition of the moorhen cry he has gone through the entire species of bird on the river, what next ?
In truth I do know that we are all different and there but for the grace of god go I, and self will be the first to admit that his bird calls are very similar to the real thing, buuuuuuuutt?
Leaving all the birdy stuff to one side it would appear that an event which threatens to overtake that of 'the' bomb going off somewhere, has awoken the interest of all bar those who live in outer space. Do I refer to the passing of that icon of crotch grabbing, quite possibly I do. Will anything I say on the matter make one iota of difference, not an atom, so I shall just finish at this point.
There is not one person or thing on the planet that can be all things to all, so whatever floats yer boat.
Many little things grab my attention, sometimes I feel that life is so full of just so much wonderful happenings, of course I dont discount all the crapola, that would be stupid and I know that I am not that. At my time in life I can truly say that I understand most of what makes ME, as a functioning human, tick over. There is no burning desire within me to be something else, I mean to be George Clooney would be okay,if you were George Clooney but imagine how hard it would be to be you and George. Do you see what I'm getting at? See, you are you,okay?, but by some act of something then you can be you and then someone else, just how hard would that be.
I would have liked to have been Marlon Brando when he played in 'The Wild One' because at that time I rode with a motorcycle,call it? a gang okay, DD/MC. (Darlington Devils MC) .
I designed the insignia, the skulls head from the old Mercury Record label(our band did a 45 for them) underneath that a pair of crossed pistons. Yes I did read a lot of books about chivalry, and okay so some of went to my head.The head really was a bit empty back then, looking back it was all pretty awful and juvenile. Perhaps we were the forerunners of Hells Angels here, who knows, but perhaps not as we were pretty tame stuff compared to how they are now. Don't forget this was in 1958 and life was rebellion then for most at 16.The film itself took ages to actually play here in OZ as the local censors were afraid that it might corrupt us poor innocent antipodeans. But all that is well in the past, although it took ages to outgrow the love of riding fast motor bikes as I only sold my last one 7yrs ago. Reaction times just don't cope with a machine that can get to 100kph in 6.6 secs once you get past a certain age. I raced bikes ,tore 'round the streets madly for years and dare I say was an absolute lunatic on them yet never had an accident worthy of the name. fell off a zillion times, but nary one bad prang.
Yes Hortense I know what you are about to say, given half the chance I would be down at the bike shop in a jiff, but not true old girl. Know my limits now, although it would be nice just once,
just like our esteemed prime minister who went to a strip club in New York, just the once mind.
We have had a very strange week in the federal sphere,politics I mean. But the oddest part of the whole week was that the person who actually committed a really heinous affront to parliament was the Treasurer and because of the way the Government could spin the words and muddy the waters, he wasn't made to answer any of the allegations. The opposition handled the affair badly and missed an opportunity to show up the Government for just what it is,on spin cycle numero 9. Wnter here so Horty and I haven't had the nerve to head off to Cocolat, we managed a meal at the Greek restaurant just afew doors up , that was super .Generous plates and lovely food all for $41 for the two of us it's still possible to eat well here in Adelaide at a reasonable price. I feel like indulging myself a little so I am going to leave one of my poems behind. This just came off the cuff from a line someone else wrote that grabbed my fancy, it is like all my stuff autobiographical. I liked writing it as there are memories there that I will hold onto. Grazie per quelle ricordi.
the fish monger sold samphire
(before you steam samphire
wash it carefully under cold water,
then steam over a pan of boiling water
a couple of minutes,
serve with melted butter.)
we picked samphire
she and I,when we wore younger clothes
washed our pickings in the crystal waters
of Salt creek as the tide rushed in
then lay in the lee
of sandhills that were Camelot,
she as Guinevere,I Arthur
and we did as all innocents will
here, it was market day ,
samphire was legitimate
encased in furled paper
a fine morning
with a sometime quick breeze
replete with scudding clouds,
late sun lifted, then
warmed ones back as it should,
given the month
though my June is never warm
unlike this place,
where skeins of history and life mixed,
colours of a different palette
an empty book, artfully laid carelessly to table top
seemingly randomly left, although contrived
forgettable memoirs of a pop diva or some such
lunch arrived , followed by
small talk, brushing the edges of compassion
mixed with truth and regret
reflections that were etched into the glass of time
so it was left to the question,
half full or half empty?
I plumped for half full
but then optimism is a forte,
thus the day was sweet
as time spent like this should be
its memory forever mine
better than pieces of eight
June 27th 2008
In truth I do know that we are all different and there but for the grace of god go I, and self will be the first to admit that his bird calls are very similar to the real thing, buuuuuuuutt?
Leaving all the birdy stuff to one side it would appear that an event which threatens to overtake that of 'the' bomb going off somewhere, has awoken the interest of all bar those who live in outer space. Do I refer to the passing of that icon of crotch grabbing, quite possibly I do. Will anything I say on the matter make one iota of difference, not an atom, so I shall just finish at this point.
There is not one person or thing on the planet that can be all things to all, so whatever floats yer boat.
Many little things grab my attention, sometimes I feel that life is so full of just so much wonderful happenings, of course I dont discount all the crapola, that would be stupid and I know that I am not that. At my time in life I can truly say that I understand most of what makes ME, as a functioning human, tick over. There is no burning desire within me to be something else, I mean to be George Clooney would be okay,if you were George Clooney but imagine how hard it would be to be you and George. Do you see what I'm getting at? See, you are you,okay?, but by some act of something then you can be you and then someone else, just how hard would that be.
I would have liked to have been Marlon Brando when he played in 'The Wild One' because at that time I rode with a motorcycle,call it? a gang okay, DD/MC. (Darlington Devils MC) .
I designed the insignia, the skulls head from the old Mercury Record label(our band did a 45 for them) underneath that a pair of crossed pistons. Yes I did read a lot of books about chivalry, and okay so some of went to my head.The head really was a bit empty back then, looking back it was all pretty awful and juvenile. Perhaps we were the forerunners of Hells Angels here, who knows, but perhaps not as we were pretty tame stuff compared to how they are now. Don't forget this was in 1958 and life was rebellion then for most at 16.The film itself took ages to actually play here in OZ as the local censors were afraid that it might corrupt us poor innocent antipodeans. But all that is well in the past, although it took ages to outgrow the love of riding fast motor bikes as I only sold my last one 7yrs ago. Reaction times just don't cope with a machine that can get to 100kph in 6.6 secs once you get past a certain age. I raced bikes ,tore 'round the streets madly for years and dare I say was an absolute lunatic on them yet never had an accident worthy of the name. fell off a zillion times, but nary one bad prang.
Yes Hortense I know what you are about to say, given half the chance I would be down at the bike shop in a jiff, but not true old girl. Know my limits now, although it would be nice just once,
just like our esteemed prime minister who went to a strip club in New York, just the once mind.
We have had a very strange week in the federal sphere,politics I mean. But the oddest part of the whole week was that the person who actually committed a really heinous affront to parliament was the Treasurer and because of the way the Government could spin the words and muddy the waters, he wasn't made to answer any of the allegations. The opposition handled the affair badly and missed an opportunity to show up the Government for just what it is,on spin cycle numero 9. Wnter here so Horty and I haven't had the nerve to head off to Cocolat, we managed a meal at the Greek restaurant just afew doors up , that was super .Generous plates and lovely food all for $41 for the two of us it's still possible to eat well here in Adelaide at a reasonable price. I feel like indulging myself a little so I am going to leave one of my poems behind. This just came off the cuff from a line someone else wrote that grabbed my fancy, it is like all my stuff autobiographical. I liked writing it as there are memories there that I will hold onto. Grazie per quelle ricordi.
the fish monger sold samphire
(before you steam samphire
wash it carefully under cold water,
then steam over a pan of boiling water
a couple of minutes,
serve with melted butter.)
we picked samphire
she and I,when we wore younger clothes
washed our pickings in the crystal waters
of Salt creek as the tide rushed in
then lay in the lee
of sandhills that were Camelot,
she as Guinevere,I Arthur
and we did as all innocents will
here, it was market day ,
samphire was legitimate
encased in furled paper
a fine morning
with a sometime quick breeze
replete with scudding clouds,
late sun lifted, then
warmed ones back as it should,
given the month
though my June is never warm
unlike this place,
where skeins of history and life mixed,
colours of a different palette
an empty book, artfully laid carelessly to table top
seemingly randomly left, although contrived
forgettable memoirs of a pop diva or some such
lunch arrived , followed by
small talk, brushing the edges of compassion
mixed with truth and regret
reflections that were etched into the glass of time
so it was left to the question,
half full or half empty?
I plumped for half full
but then optimism is a forte,
thus the day was sweet
as time spent like this should be
its memory forever mine
better than pieces of eight
June 27th 2008
Tuesday, 16 June 2009
Ink marks on a blank page tues 16th June
Just by way of explanation some of you might have noticed my last blog was almost a month ago.That it is I have been a little slack perhaps could be noted, but then again y'all have no idea what is i have been up to.Y'see don't jump to hasty conclusion,could i have spent the last few weeks floating down the Nile in a felucca, searching for the l;ost tombs of Karnak? oh i does wish that were so, or might i had wended my merry ways up a still crystal blue fjiord in Norway. Cuts to the chase and tells you that all this time i have been at home doing not much of anything.
That being almost so I cannot tell a lie so inform you that all this time I have been away from you lot I flailed lens to the bone getting awesome pictorials for all to peruse.In between times I also worked in spot of laser surgery to my left eye,will know the outcome in 6weeks.
Well you do all know where I live as I'm forever banging on about the place and how lucky I am to li(o)ve here. Okay, so y'all live where you do because it is just perfect,understood all that and really you didn't have to say it,'cos where you live would be just right, three bears porridge an all. Doesn't matter where I have been and lived, my philosophy reads like this,once you know your way back from what passes for the corner store ,then you are home',isn't that just so though?On my morning walk I pass the same folk each day,the lady who wears the hoody and walks a maltese dog ,the fellow who rain hail or shine walks in flip flops and leads a huge mastiff, or rather it leads him.
They both say morning to I, as does the lady with the odd looking poodle thing,dog that is. The chap who rides towards me just after her, he nods his head in a sort of ,I want to be friendly but am peddling so can't stop expression. The man who follows about two minutes later, doesn't matter what I do,he never even rings his bell,just peddles on grimly as if I was something he'd rather wish not get stuck on his tyres. I would like to think that's because he wear little sunglasses like John Lennon even when it is dark or very dim with heavy black cloud, he always has his light on too.
That reinforces my theory of folk who wear sunglasses at all times, even 9o'clock at night, and I don't live in midsummer Norway either.They,(darkish glasses wearers) live in a type of jaundiced nether world where all is colourless/muted and amorphous, so to him peering through Lennon type haze I perhaps look like a golem or creature from a dank nightmare.Actually I kind of like that idea of I, might just run with that next dress up day.oh, by the by, the pic is of the sunrise this am.
Inded so Hortense old bean the locals are restless at this moment are they not.what with that lovely Mr.Costello giving Parliament the old heave ho after 20years was no real shock now was it.We all knew he only had until the 30th of this month because they have to bed in new canditate for his seat.
The journo's seem a bit out of sorts with our Prime Minister too, he was flavour of the month a while ago now it seems even they have got tired of the spin cycle always on fast forward. He had his face on the TV so much some even thought he was the new logo for that free to air station. Would it be dear Horty that you have been right all along about him, he really is a bit too good to be true. Then yesterday that old gangster fellow 'tuppence ' Moran got himself executed proper goodfellows style coming out of his favourite deli, seems rather ironic as well that today the police arrested his ex sister-in-law and her sister/boyfriend for setting up the hit and then doing it. Hollywood might well have written the script Horty, except it was real and tuppence got his come-uppence.
That movie we went to was abysmal,('a film with me in it' ),those actors should have been shot instead of tuppence. Just as well life doesn't always imitate art is my new motto, the gelato was great at Cocolat after though.
That being almost so I cannot tell a lie so inform you that all this time I have been away from you lot I flailed lens to the bone getting awesome pictorials for all to peruse.In between times I also worked in spot of laser surgery to my left eye,will know the outcome in 6weeks.
Well you do all know where I live as I'm forever banging on about the place and how lucky I am to li(o)ve here. Okay, so y'all live where you do because it is just perfect,understood all that and really you didn't have to say it,'cos where you live would be just right, three bears porridge an all. Doesn't matter where I have been and lived, my philosophy reads like this,once you know your way back from what passes for the corner store ,then you are home',isn't that just so though?On my morning walk I pass the same folk each day,the lady who wears the hoody and walks a maltese dog ,the fellow who rain hail or shine walks in flip flops and leads a huge mastiff, or rather it leads him.
They both say morning to I, as does the lady with the odd looking poodle thing,dog that is. The chap who rides towards me just after her, he nods his head in a sort of ,I want to be friendly but am peddling so can't stop expression. The man who follows about two minutes later, doesn't matter what I do,he never even rings his bell,just peddles on grimly as if I was something he'd rather wish not get stuck on his tyres. I would like to think that's because he wear little sunglasses like John Lennon even when it is dark or very dim with heavy black cloud, he always has his light on too.
That reinforces my theory of folk who wear sunglasses at all times, even 9o'clock at night, and I don't live in midsummer Norway either.They,(darkish glasses wearers) live in a type of jaundiced nether world where all is colourless/muted and amorphous, so to him peering through Lennon type haze I perhaps look like a golem or creature from a dank nightmare.Actually I kind of like that idea of I, might just run with that next dress up day.oh, by the by, the pic is of the sunrise this am.
Inded so Hortense old bean the locals are restless at this moment are they not.what with that lovely Mr.Costello giving Parliament the old heave ho after 20years was no real shock now was it.We all knew he only had until the 30th of this month because they have to bed in new canditate for his seat.
The journo's seem a bit out of sorts with our Prime Minister too, he was flavour of the month a while ago now it seems even they have got tired of the spin cycle always on fast forward. He had his face on the TV so much some even thought he was the new logo for that free to air station. Would it be dear Horty that you have been right all along about him, he really is a bit too good to be true. Then yesterday that old gangster fellow 'tuppence ' Moran got himself executed proper goodfellows style coming out of his favourite deli, seems rather ironic as well that today the police arrested his ex sister-in-law and her sister/boyfriend for setting up the hit and then doing it. Hollywood might well have written the script Horty, except it was real and tuppence got his come-uppence.
That movie we went to was abysmal,('a film with me in it' ),those actors should have been shot instead of tuppence. Just as well life doesn't always imitate art is my new motto, the gelato was great at Cocolat after though.
Saturday, 16 May 2009
ink marks on a blank page Sunday May 17th
Seing as none of you were really interested in our Federal Budget 'cos it turned out to be a complete waste of time even having it on TV as the damn thing was such a negative and nothing thing, this then in the main is a blog about a wonderful little marsupial that we have here in OZ call a Bandicoot. But first I shall endeavour to give you a bit of background into our animals vis a vis yours.
One of the more endearing things about the names of animals here in the Antipodes is that none of the nomenclature of the little beasties sounds threatening or majisterial. Unlike those beasts of Africa ,Europe,Nth /South America and Asia we here in Australia don't having any screechy roary, mad things that will devour you in one bite. None of our nasties are like that,bit like us really, we do have nasty things that snap, poison and kill very quickly but all that is done with style and finesse.The taipan snake is the deadliest in the world,no roar at all, dead in 30 seconds, funnel web spiders creep beneath the sheets,one nip, goodnight you,not a peep out of it either.Box jelly-fish, get that down your speedos and look out, lets hope the beach resort is close to a hospital.Keep the trainers on when you go for a paddle in the waters of Queensland's Great Barrier Reef, that's in case you step on a stone fish,oops you didn't need that leg anyways.Ssssshhh though, notice just how quiet our deadliest things are? Unlike other countries .
Take TIGER for one, doesn't that conjure up a fierce, striped wild animal with enormous great teeth and very bad breath that will just be waiting in the wings to bite off a slice, of YOU? Then on the other hand we have here in OZ, the echidna, ooohhhhhhhhhh, how sweet, a little cutey pie thing that just curls up into a wincy little ball when frightened and only eats ants, those nasty critters that spoil your picnic, shame on you ants.Like the platypus, Echidna is a monotreme, an egg laying mammal. Next there is Rex the LION.Great hairy bit of a thing it is too, always poncing about the veldt like it owns the place, well you try and tell it to shove off then, see how you get on sistaaaahh.In the OZ corner we have the platypus, soft sleek furry type of creature that just burrows in the river bank for worms and stuff, doesn't even make a noise when doing so either and if frightened by any loudness will whip into its burrow where it hides until the nasty crashing about thingy has sloped off. Last but not least is the ELEPHANT, a monstrous great lump of a pachyderm that you cannot even make piano keys out of anymore, really good for nothing else than leaving massive huge piles of 'IT' all over the grass . Noisy sod of a beast too, trumpets away sixty to the dozen, then stomps all over the farmers maize crop,useless.
That is just Asia / Africa, space wont allow me to list all the yelling loud things from Europe along with the Americas .I have shown you just some of our nice little creatures who have no real obnoxious habits and finish up with a most personable lovely chappie who is a soft cuddly wuggly, that I myself relate to well.
We have the wombat, a pleasant sort of fattish fellow who is most congenial only coming out of his burrow at night making no sound as he goes about his business. He just eats, roots and leaves.
Enter my lovely little BANDICOOT.Not a monotreme like his friends the platypus and echidna just a common old variety marsupial and very shy, also where we stumbled across him, quite rare.To see him well you will have to enlarge the pic.
So there we have just some of our lovely sweet harmless denizens of the forest and glens of OZ, nice homely sort of a quiet likeable spot is OZ, but don't stand under the black wattles in midsummer as a pile of follow- me -caterpillars might drop down on you and their collective bites are deadly,no known antidote either.....sorrrrreeee, but I did warn you.
No Hortense I don't know the official name for those caterpillars, we used to see them on the farm. Remember when they fell on the horses neck and he could never race again? those little green ones that ball up together until one crawls out and they all go marching off in line.If you pluck the middle one out they all stop and ball up again until a leader just wings off , squash them and they give off a really punguent eucalypt smell. You do remember !, and that green stuff you could never get off your blouse so you had to throw it away, was a nice shirt that too.
Horty you didn't really like that Government minister who rabitted on about the infrastructure spending this morning, the Hon.Anthony Albanese . You don't like him, good, he sounded like a goat talking about billyons of dollahs then wouldn't admit to the fact that all the money he talked about wasn't actually going to be spent this year or even next,not for another 10 yrs Horty. What a load of old cobblers girl, to be quite frank m'dear I think he didn't really give a damn , just wanted to hear himself talk over the top of the interviewer.
Good deal that going to see 'angels and demons' friday then 'star trek' today, I does like a rollicking good movie or two.The gelato was at its best in Cocolat as well me lovely, in all, a top weekend
One of the more endearing things about the names of animals here in the Antipodes is that none of the nomenclature of the little beasties sounds threatening or majisterial. Unlike those beasts of Africa ,Europe,Nth /South America and Asia we here in Australia don't having any screechy roary, mad things that will devour you in one bite. None of our nasties are like that,bit like us really, we do have nasty things that snap, poison and kill very quickly but all that is done with style and finesse.The taipan snake is the deadliest in the world,no roar at all, dead in 30 seconds, funnel web spiders creep beneath the sheets,one nip, goodnight you,not a peep out of it either.Box jelly-fish, get that down your speedos and look out, lets hope the beach resort is close to a hospital.Keep the trainers on when you go for a paddle in the waters of Queensland's Great Barrier Reef, that's in case you step on a stone fish,oops you didn't need that leg anyways.Ssssshhh though, notice just how quiet our deadliest things are? Unlike other countries .
Take TIGER for one, doesn't that conjure up a fierce, striped wild animal with enormous great teeth and very bad breath that will just be waiting in the wings to bite off a slice, of YOU? Then on the other hand we have here in OZ, the echidna, ooohhhhhhhhhh, how sweet, a little cutey pie thing that just curls up into a wincy little ball when frightened and only eats ants, those nasty critters that spoil your picnic, shame on you ants.Like the platypus, Echidna is a monotreme, an egg laying mammal. Next there is Rex the LION.Great hairy bit of a thing it is too, always poncing about the veldt like it owns the place, well you try and tell it to shove off then, see how you get on sistaaaahh.In the OZ corner we have the platypus, soft sleek furry type of creature that just burrows in the river bank for worms and stuff, doesn't even make a noise when doing so either and if frightened by any loudness will whip into its burrow where it hides until the nasty crashing about thingy has sloped off. Last but not least is the ELEPHANT, a monstrous great lump of a pachyderm that you cannot even make piano keys out of anymore, really good for nothing else than leaving massive huge piles of 'IT' all over the grass . Noisy sod of a beast too, trumpets away sixty to the dozen, then stomps all over the farmers maize crop,useless.
That is just Asia / Africa, space wont allow me to list all the yelling loud things from Europe along with the Americas .I have shown you just some of our nice little creatures who have no real obnoxious habits and finish up with a most personable lovely chappie who is a soft cuddly wuggly, that I myself relate to well.
We have the wombat, a pleasant sort of fattish fellow who is most congenial only coming out of his burrow at night making no sound as he goes about his business. He just eats, roots and leaves.
Enter my lovely little BANDICOOT.Not a monotreme like his friends the platypus and echidna just a common old variety marsupial and very shy, also where we stumbled across him, quite rare.To see him well you will have to enlarge the pic.
So there we have just some of our lovely sweet harmless denizens of the forest and glens of OZ, nice homely sort of a quiet likeable spot is OZ, but don't stand under the black wattles in midsummer as a pile of follow- me -caterpillars might drop down on you and their collective bites are deadly,no known antidote either.....sorrrrreeee, but I did warn you.
No Hortense I don't know the official name for those caterpillars, we used to see them on the farm. Remember when they fell on the horses neck and he could never race again? those little green ones that ball up together until one crawls out and they all go marching off in line.If you pluck the middle one out they all stop and ball up again until a leader just wings off , squash them and they give off a really punguent eucalypt smell. You do remember !, and that green stuff you could never get off your blouse so you had to throw it away, was a nice shirt that too.
Horty you didn't really like that Government minister who rabitted on about the infrastructure spending this morning, the Hon.Anthony Albanese . You don't like him, good, he sounded like a goat talking about billyons of dollahs then wouldn't admit to the fact that all the money he talked about wasn't actually going to be spent this year or even next,not for another 10 yrs Horty. What a load of old cobblers girl, to be quite frank m'dear I think he didn't really give a damn , just wanted to hear himself talk over the top of the interviewer.
Good deal that going to see 'angels and demons' friday then 'star trek' today, I does like a rollicking good movie or two.The gelato was at its best in Cocolat as well me lovely, in all, a top weekend
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