Just A Little Bite

This is what a cockatoo looks like after face ploughing my new garden and snipping off those nice, new spring shoots.

And if that wasn’t enough, it thought it would eat my phone.

More please.

It’s been a long, wet winter in Canberra and yummy new shoots are yummy.

Keep well, everyone.

Kind Regards.
Tracy

RDP Capricious
Lens-Artists Favourite Finds

Three is A Trend

I recently reported on the deaths of two of the park birds, a magpie and a cockatoo. I always keep an open mind as to the probable cause when the manner of death is uncertain but I have my suspicions. Another bird has had a close escape. Occasionally I feed the crested pigeons. I used to give them leftover canary seed so they are regular visitors. Now there is no longer a canary so I am gradually phasing out their seed because to stop abruptly would be incredibly unfair. Plus, it is winter and seed is scarce. I took a photo of one of my favourite pigeons on its most recent visit.

Something has had a go at it. Crested pigeons, cockatoos and magpies all have one thing in common. They are ground foraging birds. If I see another dead bird, I will borrow a cat trap. Having said that, my dogs are pure evil when it comes to birds (and bees) but their technique to bark birds to death is thankfully rather inept. The bees are not so lucky.

Speaking of inept, I have upgraded photography software. It seemed like a good idea at the time but it is not very intuitive so I am keeping a low profile.

Stay well, everyone.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

Lens-Artists: Summer Vibes

It’s July so you know what that means. July is when the dedicated, hard-working hosts of the incredibly popular Lens-Artists Photo Challenge take a well earned break from their hosting duties and co-opt five guest hosts to take on this important responsibility. This week, Andre from My Blog – solaner is hosting the challenge and he has invited us to feel the summer vibe. It’s winter here in the Southern Hemisphere but I will try.

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The Stories They Tell

Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.

It’s already Saturday here and I haven’t published my Friday Song yet. Better late than never, eh? This week I could tell you about all the stupid spending that went on under the last government, and that we now have nothing “nation building” to show for it. I could also tell you how this has left the new national government in a pretty pickle having to cancel important programs that ensure people sick with Covid don’t have to go into work in order to keep a roof over their heads. Yeah, tricky. It is especially tricky when you have inherited a huge budget deficit due to a lot of expenditure that hasn’t exactly been the best value for money for the country, and now have a huge budget deficit/ big credit card bill, at the same time as interest rates are going through the roof (lotta roofs in this thought bubble). And if you are not collecting enough taxes to pay that debt down because everybody, including the rich people, must have a tax cut – and in order for prospective governing parties to win an election – then those debt levels are only going to increase, adding to the burden on existing and future taxpayers, those few that are still remaining that is (including those casual but essential workers sick with Covid), and I’m not talking about the rich people here. I could tell you about all of that, but I won’t.

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Public Menace?

Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.

Yesterday I was as mad as hell when workers down the road parked on my new garden. So I spent a good five minutes looking for some lipstick to write on their windscreen. But I decided against that and instead stormed down to where they were working and asked them to move their, ahem, vehicle off my, um, garden, or words to that effect. No really, I was very polite. Unfortunately, there was a fatality.

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Follow That Man

Some hospitals have a bit of kit that allows friends and family to track the whereabouts of their loved ones that have been admitted to hospital. I’m not sure whether I like it. For example, when your True Love is in theatre, the app indicates this. However, it doesn’t tell you what is taking so long. Of course, as the anxiety builds and the hours stretch out, the tracker is prone to wondering what happens if the patient (the tracked) dies In Theatre? Fortunately, people come out of theatre sooner or later and when they do, the app indicates that the patient has Exited Theatre. It is left to the tracker to imagine in what condition the patient exited the theatre. When the last update occurs late in the evening, the tracker may have a certain reluctance to call the hospital for information given the hour.

Information provided to families with loved ones in a particular hospital advises that due to the Covid situation, visitors should consider the need to visit and encourages calling loved ones instead. The few times that I have been to hospital to be spliced open to remove wrigglers, I was groggy for days afterward so I do not think it would be at all wise to ring the tracked directly after surgery because clearly that person would be in recovery and not taking calls or back on ward and potentially indisposed, or worse. Having discussed this situation with the wrigglers, we can only presume that someone from the hospital would ring us if the patient was in a bad way or worse. There must be some limits to this app. Surely? Presumably?

All will be revealed. I guess. Tomorrow.

I need a song. I can’t think of a better one than Katie Melua singing If You Were A Sailboat.

I have turned off comments so that I can freak out.

Take care, everyone.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

One Way Or Another

Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.

This week, I had the great pleasure to attend Jo Shevchenko’s launch of her poetry chap book, Journey – A Cancer Story. Jo blogs at http://www.outofthecave.blog. What a talented poet and all round nice person Jo is. Not only did I meet Jo for the first time in person, but I also met her friends and family. They made me feel so welcome. I also want to make mention of one of Jo’s friends who has faced her own journey with cancer. She told me about a seven day, 25 kilometres per day trek she was planning. Awesome.

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Ho Hum Election Comes

Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you. But first, a poem about the Australian Federal election campaign.

The less I say I about the election campaign,
the better. Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, oi, oi. oi.
Three word slogan, “You’re gonna die.”
That’s four, but who’s countin’?
Stick that up your Pine Gap.

It’s excruciating, ladies and gentlemen, but at least we get to vote and afterwards, whinge about the result. Let’s listen to Flogging Molly performing The Worst Day Since Yesterday. Sing it with me.

Stay well, everyone, and sift your oats from your blarney.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

NaPoWriMo #28
RDP Interlace

Choose Your Own Poison

Tracy (front) and her sister riding Lightning,1972
An image flickers like an old home movie across the screen.  
A young girl stands by an open fridge door drinking thirstily from a large bottle of Passiona.  A woman, her mother, appears in the background and chastises her daughter for drinking too much soft drink.  Too much Passiona.  Always Passiona.

"Drink water," the child's mother says.
But the child doesn't stop. 

Images flicker alternately between the child vomiting violently, and drinking from the bottle of Passiona, before vomiting again.  The child becomes thinner and thinner.  
Images of the wasting child flicker faster until she is nothing but a wisp of fetid Passiona air,  translucent and ephemeral as she drifts in and out of consciousness.

When I was a small girl, I lived on a rural property on the outskirts of Sydney. Every week, the soft drink man would deliver a crate of syrupy, carbonated drinks to the property. They were supposed to be a treat, but I couldn’t get enough of them. My favourite was a passionfruit-flavoured fizzy called Passiona. In the 50 years since I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes, I have always craved carbonated fizzy drinks on those rare occasions when my blood glucose levels have been seriously high. It is worth noting that I became a Type 1 diabetic in the months after I recovered from a serious bout of the measles. Isn’t it fortunate that there are now vaccines to protect against many serious viruses that can trigger our immune systems to go into hyper drive and attack our own bodies?

The (optional) task for Day 14 of National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) is to write a poem/piece that takes the form of the opening scene of the movie of your life.

There’s more to this movie, but this is a start.

Take care, everyone.
Kind Regards.
Tracy.

NaPoWriMo #14
Ragtag Daily Prompt – Changeling

,

Not War

I have previously written about climate wars, culture wars, water wars and war wars, wars on rodents, waste, corruption, hunger and homelessness; the collapse of essential ecosystems; the persecution of climate activists, minorities and refugees; the jailing of protesters; and so on. I am not going to repeat myself here today. Instead, I would like to thank from the bottom of my heart, all those people who work tirelessly to keep us safe and who provide humanitarian aid in our darkest hours. They are the light that gives us hope.

Moving right along, it’s not a cat photo or video, but it is a reasonable substitute. I give you Ama and Makea. Enjoy.

Please, no more war writing and photography prompts, otherwise I will have to pull out the dead rat photo. If you have something to say on any of the topics above, say it anyway. It is always an important time to stand up for the issues that matter.

Mediate, not meditate, is my new favourite saying.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.