Australian Black Lives Matter

I am not marching today, not because the current Prime Minister told me not to, that almost made me want to go.  I don’t want to travel into the city, I don’t want to be in crowds, that’s why, I reckon we've worked too hard to get the corona virus under control to jeopardise it by marching in crowds. However, it's amazing that despite all the Aboriginal deaths in custody we have had we have not seen the outpouring of rage that we have witnessed in the USA.  For some reason here we have been able to go tut tut isn't it awful, but we have not made so much noise abut the injustices against Indigenous Australians.  Is it an issue about us not being able to deeply listen to Indigenous Australians and work with Indigenous communities to address the impact of over 200 years of colonisation? 

Those individual police who use violence against Aboriginal people, who have been responsible for deaths through action or inaction must be held accountable and the police services that do not hold them accountable should be shamed. But it's not just a policing issue.

Governments over the years that have allowed the injustices to continue should be held accountable  So should the Governments and the electorate that have turned a blind eye to the poverty of Aboriginal populations, Governments that have decided on what is best for Aboriginal communities rather than sitting down with them and listening to what they really need.  Governments that have stopped funding to services providing support to Aboriginal populations.  Governments that have presided over Aboriginal children, women and men being incarcerated in far greater numbers than their white counterparts.  Governments that have ignored many of the recommendations of the Royal Commission Into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody. Who have not acted despite the 432 deaths in custody since the Royal Commission.  Indigenous Australians make up 3 per cent of the population but about 30 per cent of the prison population.  We lock up Indigenous Australians at four times the rate of black Americans in the US. In the youth detention system, about 50 per cent of all detainees are Indigenous. Australia has it's own George Floyd moment

One of the people who was locked up was Tanya Day who died on 22 December 2017 after a train conductor had removed her from a train because she was sleeping on a train.  She was then arrested for being drunk in a public place and died from a brain haemorrhage after she had fallen in the cell and hit her head on the brick wall.   I have to say here that there have been a number of times where I have been drunk in a public place, or have fallen asleep on public transport and not once have I ever been questioned by the police or restrained in any way.   I’ve drunk alcohol in parks with friends and at the beach and never once been stopped or questioned or looked at with fear or suspicion.   That’s white privilege!

Another illustrates the failings of the health system as well as policing, the death of Julieka Dhu in 2014.  She was arrested because of unpaid fines and while in custody complained of pain.  She was taken to the Hedland Health Campus Hospital twice but each time sent back to custody because the healthcare people thought it was simply a manifestation of drug withdrawal.  She was finally taken back a third time and died shorty after from what was found to be an infection cause by broken ribs after her partner had beaten her.  

The Victorian Government abolished the offence of drunkeness in August 2019 some 32 years after this was recommended by the Royal Commission.  Tanya Day may still be alive today if that offence had been abolished earlier.  But that is just one example of the more than 400 deaths in custody since 1987.  We all know about Closing the Gap and the disparity in life expectancy between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Australians.  One of the most glaring examples of health disparity is type 2 diabetes.  Indigenous Australians are 4 times to be hospitalised for and die from type 2 diabetes. 

While we have  many Indigenous Australians who are well known for remarkable achievements in the Arts, sport and all other areas of human endeavour, achieving well beyond their representation in the Australian community, it is still the reality that income levels of Indigenous Australians are significantly lower than non Aboriginal Australians and they are more likely to live in overcrowded or inadequate housing. 

What happens with policing is the visible end of the systemic discrimination against Aboriginals.  We all need to work together to ensure that all Aboriginal people are able to enjoy the same rights and privileges that most of us expect as part of our daily lives.   I stand with all those who are marching today in spirit, even though I am not there in person.

I leave you with some of the words of the Anthem Song by Tiddas, let's work towards hearing the voice of the hearts who are waiting.  

Don't sing me an anthem
Cause you don't know the words
Words are hard to remember
When they mean nothing at all
To the hearts who still are waiting
For their voice to be heard
Don't sing me your anthem
When your anthem's absurd

We might have been born here
But we're not young and free
We weren't born yesterday
And only liberal by degree

This land may be beautiful
But it cannot be called fair
So don't sing me your anthem
Till we've learned how to share

We are the lucky country
Where anyone can win
If you were born to the right family
And have the white coloured skin

So don't sing me my anthem
Cause the words can't be felt
What's pride in your country
Without pride in yourself?

What's pride in your country
Without pride in yourself?

Don't sing me an anthem
Cause you don't know the words
Words are hard to remember
When they mean nothing at all
To the hearts who still are waiting
For their voice to be heard
Don't sing me your anthem
When your anthem's absurd

Lyrics to Tiddas Anthem song

indigenous-disadvantage-in-australia/

Learning and growing during Covid-19

One of the interests I've developed a bit more while slowing down because of Covid-19 is my garden which is a mix of natives, old favourites like daphne and lavender and food.  Food wise it's good to have an opportunity to explore bush food.  The time that's been available of late to spend in the garden has brought much nourishment, both for the body and the soul.  

The Jerusalem Artichokes are just at the beginning of harvesting.  Chucked a handful in with the roast veggies the other day and they were, not amazingly delicious, but quite tasty, so looking forward to trying out different recipes with them.  The bonus of course is while they are growing you get sunny yellow flowers like smaller sunflowers.

The fig tree next to the back deck has tempted me for the last few months with small figs, which are now beginning to ripen.  The birds do get a substantial amount but I do manage to get 4 or 5 a day which is sufficient for me.   The benefit of the birds eating the figs is I get to watch the little honeyeaters that love them and the pineapple sage I have growing underneath. The little eggplants that I planted have also provided a fairly bountiful harvest, not only do they look delightful, but they are so easy to slice up and add to just about anything I cook.  Beans however continue to frustrate me.  I put in seeds directly and watch and watch and watch ... and nothing!  The broad beans and carrots, however, are sprouting and looking quite healthy and there are some directly sown peas which are struggling up.  

Bushy Needlebush, one of the Hakea family.

A great discovery when wanting to explore different plants is the app called What Plant is That.  It is not always completely accurate but mostly pretty good for finding the name of a plant.  My walks of late have involved stopping at  many of the plants I walk past all the time to check what they are.It's particularly useful for working out what is native and what has just taken root around here and flourished.  The coastal rosemary is a bit of a trick as it does not smell or taste like Rosemary at all although it does look  a bit like Rosemary.  

A term I have come across is 'naturalised', it was in relation to a bird I was looking up and it was used to say even though something is an 'introduced' species, by European settlers, it has become acclimatised or settled in our bush.  Plants that are not native but have adapted to our soil and climates without taking over like those horrible Cotoneaster which grow everywhere they find a space down here. 


This bright little plant on the right is, I think, a Cobra lily and it has found a home on one of my favourite walks down here under the Moonah trees.  I don't see it really anywhere else so it doesn't seem to take over and it is a lovely burst of colour as you walk along.

Sea or Coastal Parsley

But bush food is what I have been exploring a little bit.  I have planted some Murnong Daisy Yams which are edible, though I am told by a friend that the variety (Microseris Lanceolata) that I have is the easiest one to grow but not the best tasting.  They take a year before the roots are ready to harvest, but in the meantime it seems to be happily multiplying.  Have also started some sea parsley which grows up on the cliff tops here on the ocean side, and am hoping that will take.  It tastes like European parsley but a little more salty.  
The finger lime I planted last summer is surviving and thriving now I have moved it to a sunnier spot.  Can't put it straight in the soil here as it's too sandy so have it growing in a half wine barrel.  It has had one fruit so here's hoping it will have more.  And then of course there is the Warragul lettuce which just goes wild here, it climbed over an old boat I have in the back yard.  I didn't realise that you couldn't eat it raw as it has toxins on the leaf, so when I put it in a salad I was not impressed.  However now I know to cook it, so I toss it in with stir fries or include it in my spinach and feta pies.  It was so rampant I pulled it out completely but now have replanted a few leaves so hopefully they will take.  Then I have a Coastal saltbush which I use to flavour anything I cook really, just chuck a few leaves in.   

Not native but the cutest little plant is the 'Mexican Cucumber' that I picked up one day at Bunnings.  The latin name is Melothria Scabra, and it has the finest little cucumbers (or mouse melons) which are good tossed in a salad, they have a slightly sour taste.  They are very prolific and grow on a delicate climbing vine.  Found some seeds at The Diggers Club diggers.com.au so have them ready to plant next spring, although the plant from this year is still producing and apparently they will self seed.  

In terms of sourcing the native plants, locally we are rather blessed with a Council run indigenous nursery at The Briars in Mt Martha.  Two other local ones that I am aware of that sell on line are https://merricks-nursery.business.site/ which is wholesale but they will sell retail as well, worth inquiring, and the other one is https://nativeplantproject.com.au/about/.

If you have time I would recommend getting into the garden and, even if you don't have much time just try planting a few herbs in pots, there is nothing nicer than just grabbing a handful of something from the garden to throw into whatever you are cooking.  

Physical distancing, exploring the bush

One of the silver linings of long walks and time to explore different places is learning to appreciate more the bush around here.  Some days it's too windy for the beach, or there is a need for a change.

There are many bush walks around here, some off leash, some not.  Some small and contained, some you can walk for hours, if the dog will allow.

My bush is not green and lush,

though maybe the rainforests are,

Instead my bush is shades

greys, blues, greens 

Surprising bolts of colour

the golden wattle, sign of cold 

winter around the corner

the occasional burnt red leaves

It’s a bush that asks you

to work on enjoying it

finding little jolts of joy,

wild orchids pushing heads

up just above the soil.

It asks you to get up close,

to notice the beauty

that is there, not obvious

but waiting to be found.

Physical distancing part 2

Ahh the life goes on in a small part of our geography, mainly known as the house.  I have been four days in a row where I have not needed to use the car.  I have enough food, including from my little garden, I have enough wine to last me at least 3 months even if I drank one bottle a night, which I tend not to.  I have plenty of toilet paper thanks to Who Gives a Crap - the one time in my life I have been able to feel superior because of my shopping habits, buying toilet paper by subscription has been a bonus in this environment.  I still go to the local farm gate for most of my shopping so have largely avoided the craziness of the supermarkets.

There is a facebook page which I have grown to love called the Pandemic of Kindness which asks people to post either acts of kindness that they have done for others or that others have done for them.  In these strange times it is a good way to be reminded of people's humanity and thoughtfulness.  The other bonus of these times is the creative people who are putting themselves out there for our benefit. My favourite at the moment is the Instagram Account of Sam Neill @samneilltheprop, he has the most soothing voice and listening to him say it's all going to be okay makes me feel so much better.  And he takes the mickey of himself - he plays the ukulele and sings (he says badly - I reckon quite well), tells bedtime stories and reads poetry.

It is amazing and a little bit overwhelming the number of people who have written and performed songs, made memes and a host of other things to help get us through.  Anyway I thought I would share some of the silver linings from my days and reminders of acts of kindness. Jac and I are going for one long daily walk now instead of the two shorter ones we have been doing.  My favourite walk is down to the beach, which for a while s not a source of kindness as the Peninsula in their wisdom  decided to close the beaches and there are conflicting stories about what that means.  Finally it was clarified, closed for people gathering, but being on the beach for exercise is okay.  

Anyway back to the daily walk.  One day on the home stretch, where we have to walk up a very steep hill, a bloke was shovelling mulch and I admired the work he had done in his garden, and he offered me some. Said he got it for free from a mate and there was too much for him to use.  So went home, got the car - ahh I did use the car, and he filled up two bags for me which was enough to cover the new front border i am making with Blue Tuscan Rosemary bushes and herbs.  Act of kindness no. 1.  he did, mind you, warn me that he had found some chopped up possum while he was shovelling - I could have done without knowing that.

One day I decided to walk the back streets of Rye, windy and hilly.  First it made me aware of how diverse the housing in Rye is, from tiny little fibro shacks to old and rather stately old houses and then in your face square black mansions and lots in between.  And little neighbourhoods, some green and leafy, lots of natives, curving patterns, no fences, then just around the corner carefully manicured lawns with roses and hydrangeas and lots of concrete.

On one of these back streets a little dog started following us, the cutest and sweetest little Jack Russell.  He had a number which I rang and there was no answer and while I was patting him and working out what to do a woman came along and said oh that's Charlie what's he doing with you.  She knew he belonged to an older man who lived somewhere near but she was not sure where and said he had alzheimers.  She took him to her place across the road and was going to ring Phil who was the owner. I walked off and then got a phone call from Phil who was returning my call. I tried to explain what was happening and he kept saying oh you are ringing about Charlie, that's funny I don't know where he is, he's not inside I'll have a look outside.  He finally gave me his address so I walked back to the woman's house and gave her the address and said she would take Charlie there.  She gave Jac some water and a Smacko, much to Jac's delight who is getting a bit worn out with all this walking.  

Walking down the street I realised that I was in the street where the cemetery was where Mum and Dad are buried so I thought I would just have look at their graves, someone has been putting flowers on them which is very nice.  No idea who.   I was reminded of the time I went to Dad's grave after the Swans won the Grand Final with Tykie to put red and white balloons on the grave and we danced around on the tombstones singing Hallelujah I'm a Bum, a song from the depression which Dad often sang.  Jac found a nice shady spot to lie on so I stayed and sang Hallelujah I'm a Bum for the both of them much to the amusement of a couple passing by.  Then I met Julie who had taken Charlie home, talked to the neighbours and they were going to talk with Phil's doctor to get him some support.  He lives just near the RSL and was in the habit of walking there every day for lunch and doesn't quite understand why they are never open when he goes there now.  It must be so hard for people like him who have lost all their social connections and don't really know why.

it was a 5k walk, there were a few people out and about, everyone very friendly and chatting but also careful about maintaining the distance.  It does seem that this challenge we are all facing is bringing out some good, I've had neighbours who have gone out of their way to introduce themselves, from a distance, when they have lived just down the road and we have not ever met each other before.  so many people who when they chat say both their name and which street they live in and offer help or contact anytime.  Because I've been planting herbs out the front had a lovely chat with the next door neighbour who has always been polite but we've not spoken much, then last night he asked if he could have some thyme from the back yard and came in to the garden and, at a distance we talked about herbs and gardening.

Phil rang me when I got back and started off saying thank you then asked who I was and where I lived and why he had rang me.  We had a strange and circular chat about Charlie.

There is a Facebook page called the Rainbow Trail with mainly children painting or drawing rainbows on their house - there is one on a fence just around the corner.  So I decided to paint one and despite having two incredibly artistic and creative daughters, I cannot draw or paint for nuts, but Beci sent me the colours to use and explained how to use a pencil and string to get the curves and I painted a rainbow to put in the front garden.  This afternoon I was having a tea out the front and the little boy from around the corner was bringing his bike up so he could ride down the hill and he stopped to look at the rainbow and kept saying oh that is a beautiful picture, look at the beautiful picture he was saying to his older brother...


The bonus of children being at home instead of racing around all over the place is they are playing in our quiet streets so there are the sounds of children everywhere which normally I don't hear.  Bouncing balls for basketball hoops, riding their bikes up and down the street, jumping on the trampoline next door and making up long and complicated stories.  It is comforting to hear those sounds, it's comforting that people will stop and say hello and smile and make that all important social connection, however fleeting.

I have thought a lot about whether it would be easier if Erwin was still around and he and I were doing the isolation bit together.  Is it better to have someone you can talk to, someone who you know you will see something through together, someone who can be cheery when you are feeling sad or just to work out together what to eat or plant in the garden?  I don't know, I like my space, I like being able to eat what I want when I want - the other day I had a dozen oysters and some Prosecco for lunch because I felt like it.   But after a few weeks will I tire of the sound of my own voice, (I do talk to Jac a lot) will I miss the lack of touch and closeness to someone?  I do obviously miss the family, not being able to call in to Beci's for a meal and talk, however fleetingly to the kids, I miss the daily chats about nothing much with our dog walking group.  But there is something satisfying about not feeling I have to race off to something, to just have the time to spend in the garden or reading or practising the ukulele.  Will those of us who are experiencing this enforced slowdown become slower altogether and learn to appreciate stillness and quiet or will we all go back to racing around as soon as we can and distracting ourselves?  We will see when we have got through it.  In the meantime stay home as much as possible while looking after your mental health, wash your hands, and do the things that need to be done to stop the spread!

The project of physical distancing

Thought I would share with you all my physical distancing projects which I have decided to do in a calm and reasoned manner. Yesterday went well, it was a lovely day and I am 2/5 of the way to planting blue Tuscan Rosemary Bushes in the front with herbs underneath to make a sort of front border. 2 down, 3 to go. Today the weather is bit more inclement so decided to start on the inside.

Sensible move is one room at a time of course. Start in the living area and declutter. Went well for a while. Going through all my baskets on the floor, found the one with all the wool, so of course had to sort through the wool and decide which to keep, found a half knitted scarf so knitted a row just to make sure I could still do it. Then time to walk the dog

Back from walking the dog, see the capsicums I bought from the farm gate yesterday so have to cut them up and cook them slowly in oil. Have a coffee, think I'll look at Saturday Paper while I have coffee but can't find it. Back to the decluttering, find all the charging cords etc that I have collected over the years and have to sort them out, decide to keep them all, because, after all you never know when you will need them. But have to find a space in the office/kids room for them. Time for a coffee, oh and Scott Morrison on about the latest measures - so put that on in the background while I'm working. Then have to tweet about a few things he said and ask daughter what the handouts to businesses will mean.

Ok back to the decluttering. Lots of shoes in the living area, what else do you do when you walk inside but take your shoes off and leave them where you took them off, so you can find them easily when you go out again? Reminds me of my next project which is building shelves in the bedroom to put the shoes. Realise I can't do anything else re the decluttering until I have built the shelves otherwise it's double handling for the shoes.

Decluttering in progress

So into the bedroom, remove the pile of clothes from the living area that I have put on the chair where I am going to build the shelves. Mmm have to sort through clothes so they are not lying around while I am building shelves. Dog lying on the bed, now on some of the clothes. So have to play with dog and her toys so I can get to the bed.

But rain has stopped so can put some of the old papers that were in the living area into the new garden bed that is another of my projects. While I am there might as well plant a few bean seeds too. Go to pull out the celery to plant the beans but notice there are new shoots coming up from the base so decide to cut celery down and see what happens with shoots. Back to the deck to get the secateurs to cut back the celery. Plant beans, tear up newspaper for new garden bed and because of the rain the cardboard I put out has been dampened so tear that up and put in the garden bed too. Might as well cut back tomatoes while I am here so remaining ones can ripen. Pick the ones that are ripe.

Okay back inside, rain started again. Realise I need to stain the shelves before I attach them to the wall. Back out to the shed. Stain is old and can't use it - trip to Bunnings needed. Put some shoes on (that's one pair out of the way). Go to Bunnings get stain, paint shelves ready for use. Now have to let paint dry. Get message about Victoria going into lockdown. Need to let Beci and Raph know although they probably already do. Respond to text messages. Time for a coffee, or maybe a gin and tonic - have I got enough Gin - do I need to make a dash to the distillery - yes good idea and I will walk Jac at the same time while it's not raining. Leave mess in lounge and in bedroom ....

Go to distillery, on the way pass Heronswood and think I'd better call in to get a few herbs for the front garden. Take Jack for a little walk around the gardens. Get to the distillery, have a chat with the young man behind the counter about whether they would be seen as an essential services. Hard, he is looking at losing his job. On the way home stop at Martha Cove beach because have wanted to check it out for a while, lovely off leash beach with a walk behind it up the cliff top which I did. Got to a lookout where I sat for a few minutes, loaded some photos I had taken on to my Instagram story, then noticed Sam Neill had posted so had to sat and listen to him read some poems. Beautiful voice, seems like such a lovely man.

Back in the car on the way home, notice that my favourite fish and chips shop is open and it's by now almost dinner time. Think I may not be able to get any after Tuesday, so stop to order some and take Jac for a walk along the foreshore while I am waiting. Get fish and chips, get home, chuck the mess from the lounge into a big basket and put it in the study, find the Saturday Paper underneath all the wool.

Pour a glass of wine to empty the bottle so I can put in the recycling bin to go out tonight. Make a salad, feed Jac and settle down with the fish and chips and a glass of red to watch the news, tomorrow is another day!

Living life to the full - what does it mean

Recently we had a family tragedy.  My lovely daughter Em's, husband, Sean died suddenly and unexpectedly.  One of the things that comes to mind at times like this is that we need to grab life and live it to the full because it might stop at any minute.

But when I said that to someone, the reply was 'I will live life as fully as I can but it's not always easy'.  Which made me think about what does living a life fully mean?  Why might it not be easy to do that.  I reckon it's about living  each moment as it comes.  It means that whatever state my life is in at the moment that I live it as fully as I can.  I wondered if some people think it means having a life that is action packed, where you live the dream, sipping cocktails on a sun drenched balcony looking out at the sea, or pushing your body to the limit for example by jumping out of an aeroplane.  I don't think that's what it is, that can be a form of escaping living life to the full, distracting yourself from what is around you.

In the last years I have had time where my opportunities for doing things has been constrained.  My bloke that I'd lived with for close to 40 years was quite frail and anxious in the last few years of his life.  That meant we did not travel, except for him to visit his sons in Sydney and even that was quite limited.  He did not have a lot of interest in going out much, and our social contact was mainly around visiting people and having them to our place.  He wanted nothing more than to be in front of the open fire which he had built, with me around somewhere in the background, playing the occasional game of backgammon and eating his definition of good food.  He was 20 years older than me and I was not quite ready for a sedentary life.  But that was what it was.

In those years I think he did what he wanted.  He lived his life to the full even as he was dying.  He appreciated music and food, he loved seeing his family and friends and the garden and the fire going when it was cold.  He loved tai chi and, even as his strength was failing, he continued to practise, sometimes sitting down, sometimes just focussing on the breathing.

As did I during those times, it slowed me down, and that gave me time to notice the things that were around me.  To get excited about the yellow tailed black cockatoos when they descended on the park down the road, or to bathe in that clear light than can happen after a storm, or to love the smell of the wood piled up for the fire, the sense of satisfaction of lighting the fire in the morning and then watching the flames as they do their dance. I was lucky that I could continue to work, well into my 60s, in a job I loved and that gave me a huge amount of satisfaction, where I loved the challenge of dealing with the people I worked with, even those where I had different opinions about what could be done because then the challenge becomes how to work with that.

There are people who can find that satisfaction even when they are doing the most menial of jobs - who get pride out of cleaning a window for example.  I remember hearing about a country, maybe South Korea, where people understand that, no matter how small or difficult the job, what they do is part of a bigger picture and they generally take pride in whatever role they have.

There are many ways to engage in the world around us, via social media, I am a prolific twitterer and get moments of excitement when I achieve a tweet on QandA and particularly love it when friends notice, or when I write to the paper and, even better, when the letter gets published and other people get to share my opinion, or take aim at it, or engage in a discussion about it.

There is a whole life to be lived through reading, whether it's a good crime novel that gets you thinking or a literary marvel where you want to stop and reread a phrase or a sentence that captures a moment or a feeling perfectly for the way you see the world.

After the bloke's death, living life to the full took an a different meaning.  Through work I travelled and tried to build in doing something I enjoyed, whether it was going somewhere I could eat good food (in Canberra it was fish and chips by the lake that was my favourite) walking through a bush park, finding a river to swim in or just enjoying a new place.  Some of my best moments were when I used my car to do the travelling and took along the dog and we would camp by a river, swimming if it was hot, cooking over the one burner gas plate.

Now I spend time in my garden near the beach, planting, weeding, eating my own produce, marvelling at plants that survive and spread, mourning the ones that don't make it.  I have a bowl I brought from my old house which is concrete, filled with water, the bees love it, standing on the sides on a hot day and drinking while others buzz around waiting their turn.

Living life to the full must also mean facing one's emotions, life is not all beer and skittles as they say.  When there are moments of melancholy, give in to to it, allow them to wash over you, allow yourself a chance to be maudlin, to cry at sad songs or passages in a book that take you back to a time and place you wish you could relive.  When people or things make you angry, own it, do something about it, tell them gently, write letters, take a stand, don't just wish it away.  If you see injustice, rage against it.

It's possible to get loaded down by corrupt politicians, by Governments that act against the best interests of the people they are supposed to serve.  I am indebted to Sean, Emily's late husband for this quote by George Orwell from Some Thoughts on the Common Toad. He talks about the miracle of spring saying 'the point is that the pleasures of spring are available to everybody, and cost nothing. Even in the most sordid street the coming of spring will register itself by some sign or other, if it is only a brighter blue between the chimney pots or the vivid green of an elder sprouting on a blazed site.'

He finishes by saying 'So long as  you are not actually ill, hungry, frightened or immured in a prison or holiday camp, spring is still spring.  The atom bombs are piling up in the factories, the police are prowling through the cities, the lies are still streaming from the loudspeakers, but the earth is still going around the sun, and neither the dictators not the bureaucrats, deeply as they disapprove of the process, are able to prevent it.'

As the quote on the order of service for Sean's funeral service says

Magia Bene, ridi spesso, ama malto or Eat well, laugh often, love much... That's living life to the full

Travelling without Jac

I’m flying to Paris so have had to leave my travelling companion behind.  She’s safely ensconced at our sea change home with my ever so helpful brother Harold.  I have had pangs of conscience about leaving her.  When I wake during the night and she is curled up in a black furry ball on my bed and I reach out my hand to give her a scratch, I have thought about whether she has the capacity to miss me.  It is as much a guilt trip as leaving a child and, just like leaving a child, she puts on her ‘how could you leave me? face.  But, according to Harold, she’s had her walk and her play and seems happy enough.  And I have to get into the mindset of ‘it is what it is’ and focus on the moment.

So here I am, thousands of kilometres from home and everyone I love, heading off to visit my friend Harriet.  First stop Paris after a few hours stopover in Singapore.  So long since I’ve done a long haul flight, at least 9 years I think.  I’m 69, a year younger than my lovely old mum was when she embarked on her first overseas trip ever, on her own with only very loose plans of what she would do and ended up staying away for several months.  My dad had been overseas in the Middle East during the war and once he was safely back on Australian soil, wild horses would not have been able to force him to leave again.

I almost didn’t make it to France.  At the stopover in Singapore I had checked what time the next flight left, but, a cautionary tale, don’t assume 22.35 means 11.35.  I had read 22.35 several times and each time my brain computed it to be 11.35.  Which of course it wasn’t, which finally got through to my brain when I looked at it again at 10.20.  So a mad dash to the gate and at Singapore there are long distances between gates.  They had sent someone to look for me who grabbed my bags and raced ahead and we got to the door just as they were about to close it.  Almost heart attack material.

 

Harriet had given me instructions for how to get to the 6th arondissement where she is and I managed to navigate the metro system and walked out of St Placide to find her sitting having coffee waiting for me.  Then, despite the rain, we walked, to her place, to my hotel, across the Seine past the Louvre and to Rue St Honore.  On the way we stopped at Churches, first St Sulpice, domes with blue skies and stars, detailed paintings on poles leading up to the domes, then later St Roch, looked small and unassuming from outside but inside just stunning.  Half restored with detailed paintings on the vaulted ceilings, a nave dedicated to St Vincent de Paul, yay for Vinnies!

J

Lots of stops for coffee, lunch and wine, at one of which I tried escargots, tricky little buggers I found.  Gave up trying to get them out of their shell elegantly and went for the toothpick method, but found them quite yummy.  Rue St Honore is the shopping area for the wealthy, Dior,  Balenciaga, etc, we went there in search of a perfume for Harriet, a little perfumerie that makes only one perfume and only sellers it from one store.  It was wet and cold, and I was still wearing what I’d worn on the plane and looked a little like a drowned rat bag woman, so it was quite fun to go into some of the shops.

Finally checked into hotel, showered then we were off again with Harriets friends, first for drinks in their charming and airy apartment, then to a restaurant in the 12th Arondissement where there was a singer Harriet likes, performing.  It was a lovely little place, full of locals who sang along with great gusto to many of the songs.  The food was cold meat followed by hot meat, followed by cheese, so was meated out by the end of the night.  But it was a pretty memorable experience to be part of such a good night, with such a strong sense of community, good music, wine and company.

Camping with Jac on the way to Sydney

So the house was sold, we had the final inspection and I got to meet the new owners, a delightful young family. It was good to talk with them about the climbability of the fig tree, see their delight in the bloke's leadlight windows and imagine the backyard being used to it's full extent again.

Then I headed off to Sydney.  Found that my little Prius C was just a little tight with all the camping equipment so hired an SUV.  Thinking I might do a few camping trips over the next few years so might even invest in a bigger car so we can travel comfortably.

I was inspired to camp after the trip to the Kimberley I did last year with a group called Adventurous Women.   They promised tents that could be put up in 2 minutes and stretchers, so that made camping a desirable experience for me.  I bought a tent and a stretcher.  The tent I bought is called Dark Room from Anaconda and it is a bit like an inverted umbrella.  So easy to put up and take down and you can stand up in it.

First stop was Yackandandah Camping Ground, I didn't want too much of a wilderness experience for my first try and the main point of the trip was to visit Em in Sydney and friends in Canberra.  The camping ground was a peaceful little oasis right next to town.  Tent up, stretcher in place, table and chair out and wine opened.

I was the only camper, everyone else was in caravans or camper vans.  But my spot was right next to a creek that had the sweetest little swimming hole.

Rules generally in camping grounds are dogs on lead at all times, which Jac was not so excited about.  I let her off at the tent, but had her on the lead when we walked around. She just stays around, never runs away, did enjoy saying hello to a few other dogs.  5 minute walk to town and dinner at the pub, it was bloody hot, 41C, the saving grace was the water mister around the outside tables at the pub.  

Took Jac's bed so she didn't try to sleep on the stretcher, thought that might just be a little too crowded, and it all worked fine.  Had my little canister burner to make coffee in the morning and we headed off for another swim and the trip to Canberra where we stayed with Ol and family.  Jac remembered their place, went straight into the bedroom and lay down.  It was still around 40 so not a lot of movement though I did take her for a short walk around the track near their place.

Next day was just a bit cooler so headed straight to Sydney where it was a bearable 30 degrees.  The dogs are all used to each other now so it was fairly peaceful.  Took them for a swim at Tamarama beach then after a few nights headed back to Canberra where I stayed with Val this time in her newly bought house.  Jac and her little Charlie got on okay, mostly ignoring each other and circling around a very meaty bone.

On the way home stopped at the Beechworth Camping Ground.  Bit more out of town which was good.  Again next to a little creek.

Interesting being a woman travelling solo, albeit with dog.  Seems to attract the blokes who want to help.  Yackandandah I got the bloke who thought he would explain how much better a caravan, particularly one with a shower and a toilet, is than a tent.  Now I hate the idea of sleeping in the sae room as a toilet that relies on chemicals and having to empty the sludge.  I know its all remote, I know the chemicals don't smell all that much, but somehow the whole idea seems distasteful.  But no I was there to be convinced.  When he offered to show me his shower and toilet I though tit was time for a swim.  Then in Beechworth as I was laying my tent out, a bloke sauntered over and asked if I needed a hand.  By that time the tent was almost up anyway so I politely declined.  Well-meaning I suppose, but wonder if he would have done the same and I been another bloke?  Decided to cook in the camp kitchen and then I had a bloke actually step in front of me as I went to the barbecue saying that it was okay he would light it for me.  As it turned out he had problems lighting it so I ended up showing him how to do it.

I feel like having a t short made saying 'I am competent' or 'I can ask for help if I need it'.  despite all that I do love the camping.  Made easier by the easy to erect tent and the stretcher.  I sleep with all the 'windows' unzipped and open so when I wake up I see the bush around me.  Amazingly I sleep incredibly well in the tent.  Jac I think, is not quite so enamoured of the whole camping idea.  She is a bit too used her city comforts.  I gave her a bone to chew on and she left it.  When she came back it was covered in ants and she was so horrified she had to go and hide in the tent under the stretcher.

In between our camping we stayed in the far from camping experience at Ems.  I love Paddington, the windy streets, the beautiful old houses, the random street gardens., the street art

And so another trip under the belt.  Who knows where next but for the moment back to my now home on the Mornington Peninsula.

Creating a new space

I am in the process of selling the house that I lived in with the bloke for 38 years.  I am in the very fortunate position of having another house (with a mortgage) down on the Mornington Peninsula.  During his illness I hardly got down here, although his last request for an outing was to come here and sit on the back deck in the sun looking out over the Ti Tree.  Over the last twelve months i have been unable to spend much time down here because of all the travel I was doing.

But now I can see the potential of actually living down here.  I love the beach, whatever the weather.  I love that every time I see it, it is different.  Still and calm one day, stormy and rolling waves the next.  Blue skies then stormy clouds, sun glistening on the water on a hot day or the yellow of a sunset being reflected in the water and on the sand.  We have a dog beach near here, where dogs can be walked off leash.  Some days when the tide is out it has a wide sandy beach, other times when the tide is in and it is a bit stormy there is hardly any beach to walk on.

And then there is the garden.  Wild and overgrown from over a year of neglect.  Had to have some of the ti trees cut down because they were falling slowly.  I love the way ti trees fall, they tend not to have the drama of the crashing branches of gum trees, rather they start to lean, as if the challenge of remaining upright is just too much.  They lean into each other and form a crown of supporting braces all holding each other up.

Before some of that crown was removed there was not much light in the backyard so the grass did not grow.  Now it grows wildly, as if all that was hidden beneath the ground is suddenly celebrating freedom and dancing in the newly found sunlight.  I can appreciate the beautiful green and the waving blades of the grass, but there are snakes in that yard which the long grass can hide and I do want to walk through the yard on a cold morning without getting wet from the dew that settles on the grass leaves.

The beginning of the garden taming

The plan is a slightly wild garden, a small patch of green, a fire pit, an apple tree, a lemon tree and space for vegetables in amongst native plants and the occasional import like lavender.  I leave behind in Kew years of planting, a large paperbark which I have loved and has given us much pleasure, a fig tree that has largely fed the bats in the last few years but provided us with a beautiful shaded spot in the back part of the garden, a cumquat my dad planted, an apple and a plum tree.

My transition to the sea change has been slightly effected by two things.  The first is the process of selling.  It is a painful process, getting it ready, decluttering, a job done with the help of my two daughters who were excellent in saying no, you don't need this, no that looks messy there, so we finally have an uncluttered house that has new paint and new carpet in a few rooms.  And now the challenge is keeping it clean, so that it looks sparkling for the Open for Inspections which happen twice a week.  The second issue is I am standing as a candidate for Labor again, this time in the state elections, as the candidate for Kew a fairly safe Liberal seat.  However both of those activities require that I am in Melbourne a fair amount of time.

Traditional Christmas toasting of marshmallows in the back yard

Footnote,
the above was written in late October.  3 months later I have sold the house in Kew, Labor won the election in a landslide, I got a 6% swing against my opponent Tim Smith and I am now in the process of settling in to my sea change.  We did celebrate Christmas with the family in the sea shack, I did Frocktober to raise money for Ovarian Cancer Research and did an Instagram series of democracy dogs who came to the Early Polling Centre and waited patiently while their owners participated in the democratic process.

My favourite democracy dog, Arthur, one of Jag's mates waiting patiently

One more period of a few days to get everything moved out of the other house, a drive up to Sydney (with Jac of course) and then I'm back to my little cottage in a very urban part of the Mornington Peninsula. Just a 20 minute walk from the bay beach, 5 minute drive to what I think is the best ocean beach around with natural rock pools to swim in when the tide is out, and short drive to wineries and the beautiful hinterland.