long-toothed hinterland dweller

We senior citizens

This just came in from a friend -- looking like one of those tedious spam e-mails.  Anonymous of course; and inspired I guess by this week's Australia Day.  Rather than delete it, I'm sharing it with you.

Senior citizens are constantly being criticized for

every conceivable deficiency of the modern world,

real or imaginary. 

We know we take responsibility for all we have done and

do not blame others.

HOWEVER,

upon reflection, we would like to point out

that it was NOT the senior citizens who took:

    The melody out of music,
    The pride out of appearance,
    The courtesy out of driving,
    The romance out of love,
    The commitment out of marriage,

    The responsibility out of parenthood,
    The togetherness out of the family,
    The learning out of education,
    The service out of patriotism,
    The Golden Rule from rulers,
    The nativity scene out of cities,
    The civility out of behaviour,
    The refinement out of language,
    The dedication out of employment,
    The prudence out of spending,
    The ambition out of achievement, or,
    God out of government and school.

And we certainly are NOT the ones

who eliminated

         patience and tolerance

from personal relationships and interactions with others!! 

And, we do understand the meaning of patriotism,

and remember those who have fought and died

for our country. 

                             
Just look at the Seniors with tears in their eyes

and pride in their hearts as they stand at attention,

on Remembrance Day and our Country's birthday .

Happy New Year all over again

Today is the first day of the Chinese New Year and this is probably the first year that I have been conscious of it on the actual day - and given some thought to what is probably going on in Chinese families and communities all around the world.

It's one of the many international festive occasions that Australians are beginning to embrace -- a case of any excuse for a party!   Of course it has always been a big occasion in Sydney, because of its higher proportion of population with an Asian ethnic background, but elsewhere it has taken off too.

I remember that when we lived in Broome around 18 years ago, everyone in the highly multi-cultural community there got involved with the Chinese New Year street procession.  We were amused that there were more black and brown legs sticking out from under the cavorting dragon than legs that could feasibly have been pure Chinese.

I've become more aware of Chinese New Year celebrations since we experienced the real thing whilst staying in Shangahi some 10 years ago.  Since then I have become friends with a Chinese-Vietnamese family who have included us among the recipients of their traditional New Year gifts - elaborate packages of candies and other foodstuffs such as their favourite Kuan Yin tea.

Then this year, for the first time, I received a greeting card from a long-time friend - an Australian born woman with Chinese immigrant grandparents.  I  found it delightful that, at almost 60, she had decided this year to share the celebration of her ethnic origins more widely among her friends.

So I've learnt that this is the Year of the Dog.  With the arrival of a new grandchild sceduled for a few months hence, I took a peek to see what kind of little person we might expect.  The personality profile started out in a most positive vein:

"People born in the Year of the Dog possess the best traits of human nature. They have a deep sense of loyalty, are honest, and inspire other people¡¦s confidence because they know how to keep secrets...."

After that it was all downhill - quite negative in fact.  Our new little puppy-dog is likely to be 'selfish', 'stubborn', 'eccentric' and 'cold and distant' - and as well as that, fault finding and have a sharp tongue!  At least we can be prepared!

Anyway I'm wishing a Happy New Year to those of you for whom it means something special.

I'm taking the opportunity of revising one or two of my not so realistic (read 'already broken') resolutions.  And I'm toasting in the year with a cup of Ti Kuan Yin.

HAPPY AUSTRALIA DAY !

We don't usually do anything special to celebrate Australia Day - not now that the kids have all moved on and we are not involved with their local school or community organized events.

We take an interest in the Australia Day Awards though, and feel a strong pride in those of our countrymen who are singled out and acknowledged for having achieved great things in their particular field.

And we never cease to be grateful for having been born in a country where we enjoy more freedom than almost anywhere else in the world - and where the sky is still the limit for those who want to work hard.

But there is always some level of opposition to Australia Day being celebrated on the date that Aboriginal Australians consider was their 'Invasion Day'. 

I read of a move recently, to initiate another national day to be called 'Australian Thanksgiving Day' which would be held in July, when sensibly, it would bypass the oppressive heat of the summer season and that whole non-stop January holiday period.  Based on the American Thanksgiving tradition, the proposal was that families could get together for a 'traditional' Australian meal (there were too many thoughts on what this would constitute, to go into here) and engage in a range of recreational activities and patriotic celebrations.  The idea really took my fancy and I plan to track down its originator to see what became of it.  It's a plan I would like to support.  Just the thought of being able to enjoy a big, hot, celebratory meal in winter attracts me.

Australians may be an irreverent lot, but they do have a sentimental side and they mostly succeed in linking the two together - as evidenced by today's Australia Day post by fellow older Aussie blogger, Radio Op at Buck 1936's Place on the Sunshine Coast at Maroochydore.   He even has the Australian flag flying for the occasion.  GOOD ONYER MATE!

Yes, although we Aussies never lose touch with what's happening in the various 'civilized' countries, we like to think we can improve on what they do by adding our unique touch.

Some Aussie cartoonist applied his sense of humour here --

"Aussie" - from Picasso's True Blue Period

My husband has never been an art connoissuer, but this is a print he found several years ago and, with his own quirky sense of humour, decided he had to have it as the one and only in his collection.  Needless to say it is not displayed in a prominent position.

Longer in the tooth

No it's not my birthday - but I have just now discovered that it was my blog's first anniversary more than a week ago.  I haven't been putting a lot of time into this page over the past couple of weeks - I have had just a bit too much on my plate of late - which is why I hadn't remembered the occasion.

Over the past 12 months I've enjoyed my regular rides around the blogosphere - picking up some interesting ideas, seeing wonderful new places and meeting new people.  All satisfying learning experiences for me.  But I do wonder whether I will still be blogging this time next year.  I often think about the many other ways I could better spend the time.  Going to bed at a decent hour would be one of them.

I am still too busy/tired to post something new tonight, but here is the picture and my thoughts when I wrote my first post in January 2005 -

                                                 LONG IN THE TOOTH

                            

I had never really thought about where this saying came from, but in the old days when horses were being sold, their teeth were always examined to get an idea of how old they might be.  Apparently, as horses age, their gums recede and the teeth appear to be longer. 

Out of this practice of checking on horses' teeth and gums, arose another common expression - 'Never look a gift horse in the mouth'.

I love the English language and its vast store of proverbs and sayings for every occasion - expressions that it has taken me a lifetime to become familiar with.  I also like the way words and phrases can be fine-tuned to get just the right shade of meaning.  It makes me glad I was born in an English speaking country.  I've done some tutoring with adult migrants learning English and have seen them struggle to make sense out expressions like this - figures of speech that we have grown up with.

(Painting is by Chinese-Australian artist YAO DIXIONG, who specialises in painting horses.)

Wet weekend longing

A grey and rainy Saturday.  It rained all day yesterday and there's more to come.  Our dry creek is running a banker and periodically we are having to pump out the overflowing pool.  But the week has been brightened by visits from two of our kids - one lot has just left and another will arrive later today.  The washer and drier are doing overtime.

Missing my usual walks in the bush.  This is where I'd like to be right now - out walking in this piece of bushland.  I am lucky to be living just a stone's throw from the Hinterland Regional Park, with over a hundred acres of bush and reclaimed farming land.  There are patches of old growth forest, waterways and areas regenerated with natural bush species.

The local council has thoughtfully provided for everyone with a network of recreational walking tracks  - some designated for humans, others for dogs and others still, for horses.

Selected plantings are attracting a range of butterflies and birds - including the threatened Glossy black-cockatoo.  They are only seasonal visitors and not even every year, so I'm hopeful of sighting a flock one day if I turn up at the right time.

There are two views here of the same old, gnarled eucalyptus tree - a paper-bark I would say.  Standing in the quiet cool under its branches, it's hard to believe I'm just two minutes from home.

Below is a distant view of what was the original farmhouse when this land was still in use.  There is always an old nag or two and a few cows around to complete the picture-perfect bucolic scene. 

Although in a dilapidated condition, with rusting roof and unkempt surroundings - and littered with abandoned machinery - the house continues to be occupied. 

A time-warped existence indeed, for the tenants - within hearing and walking distance of Highway Number One!

Parts of the land remain fenced off for cattle grazing, until such time as it can be incorporated into the usable park area.

This is what constitutes hinterland living in our part of the world.

We have the best of both worlds if you ask me.

Trees for desserts

No, not a spelling mistake.  I'm talking about something sweet and delicious to eat.  Come into my garden - into the exotic fruit orchard - and see these two interesting little trees, both planted, if I tell the truth, mainly for their mouth-watering names.

First the Chocolate Pudding Fruit (Diospyros digyna).  This tree is commonly referred to as a Black Sapote, although it is actually a variety of Persimmon and goes by the name Black Persimmon as well.

I am yet to taste one, but just to read the description makes it irresistable, so its reputation has won it a place in our garden. 

No doubt the fruit bats and possums will find it appealing as well, but we'll just wait and see.  The fruit itself looks rather ordinary, but the tree is an attractive one, so that alone makes it worth growing.

The other tree, which sounds like a natural companion, is this Ice-cream Bean Tree ( Inga edulis ). This one is only a year old and had a struggle to survive last year's long drought, so we don't anticipate wrapping our tongues around any of its delicious tasting, pulpy beans for a while yet.

Again, the tree will eventually make an interesting landscaping feature, but its other value as a fun snack for kids will be a bonus.  These are the interesting beans that are the edible part.

The downside to planting this one is its potential as an environmental weed - although right now it is rather hard to envisage a 10 metre tree with 1 metre long pods!

A lot of the fun in gardening is the anticipation.  When sometimes it's hot and it all feels like hard yakka, I try to think of chocolate pudding and icecream.

Top view

We took a drive out of the hinterland and down to the coast today - to Surfers Paradise, just 25 minutes away.  Our destination was the almost complete Q1 building, being promoted as the World's Tallest Residential Tower.  There we joined the steady flow of tourists and locals paying for the experience of riding one of the world's fastest elevators to the Observation Deck on the 78th floor.

In all, the building is 80 stories high and will offer luxury serviced apartments and resort facilities.

Breathtaking 360 degree views. This one looking South.

There was the wonder of looking down upon the many other high-rise apartment blocks that always seemed like skyscrapers from the ground.

The Gold Coast has a very watery appearance from so far up.

Looking West through the haze we could just make out the hills that mark the start of the hinterland.

The windows seemed more like huge cinema screens and we felt quite separated from the rest of the world.

We're happy tonight to be back in the hills - with no spectacular views, but our feet firmly on the ground and surrounded by trees.

Sloughed

Discovered on a bronze canna plant early this morning.  The brown creature on the right has literally just jumped out of his skin.

That's his shed skin on the left - small and pale-coloured. Up closer it's actually transparent and hollow.

The insect is of one of the many locust species - most probably an Australian Plague Locust - notorious for their voracious vegetarian appetites and the devastation they can cause to agricultural crops and pastures.

Locusts shed their skin at the end of each of four growth stages.  Because of its size, 6 cms in length, we can presume that this one has reached its final adult stage.

I brought him inside in a jar to assist with identification.  My husband, no doubt thinking of his baby cabbages, lettuces and silver beet,  was not impressed.  He was keen to be the one to take it outside and set it free when I was done.    I don't know where he put it.

Ask no questions and be told no lies!

Ipomea on the run

No, 'THIS' is a sweet potato vine... *

... intent on swallowing up a young lemon tree found in its path.

(Posted for my friend Tjilpi in Alice Springs, who has been experimenting with hydroponics in a strictly domestic environment.)

* With apologies to Mick Dundee.

Mr and Mrs Spratt

While I can happily graze most days on things plucked from the garden, my husband doesn't share my preference for all things fresh and green - or round and juicy.  In fact he is very definitely carnivorously inclined. 

Our differences where food is concerned have led to the situation where, on most days, we each prepare our own meals.  And to avoid tripping over one-another in the kitchen, we even tend to cook and eat at separate times.  He is very much of the 'slow food' cooking school and likes to assemble all his ingredients and utensils across the width of the bench before he starts.  Even my 'one-pot' cooking method tends to cramp his style.

Because of our independent eating habits I sometimes don't even notice what he has for some meals - although very often the cooking smells will reach me wherever I am.  So I was surprised one day recently, just after Christmas, when he announced that he would be having a salad for lunch.

 

A little later I walked by to see this.  Fine dining with a newspaper for company and, on the plate, four thick chunks of fatty looking ham from the Christmas leftovers.  Served with a dollop of mustard! 

'Salad' has always meant a meal of cold meat in his book - although when in company he will always take a leaf of lettuce and a slice of tomato to decorate the plate.  I, on the other hand, eat a plateful of vegetables, either cooked or raw, which I garnish on occasions with a little meat.

It's a reverse of the Jack Spratt story here!

The Nursery Rhyme

Jack Spratt could eat no fat
His wife could eat no lean
And so betwixt the two of them
They licked the platter clean

Jack ate all the lean,
Joan ate all the fat.
The bone they picked it clean,
Then gave it to the cat

(Then dug it into the garden)