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Christmas Time In The City

A little Aussie satirical poem because, well, life vapes and then you die.  This is not the happiest poem so you may want to skip it.

It’s Christmas Time In the City

no joy no joy no
air no air no air none

kirribilli smokin’
white men jokin’

it’s Christmas time in the city

make haste to land of the smoke-free

blow smoke up ya
are we having fun yet?

not me not me not
happy mo-mo

no joy no joy no
air no air no air no

Christmas barbie in the city

Sorry about that, ladies and gentlemen.  It happens when you’re starved of oxygen.  I will resume my normal calm programming as soon as we can breathe again.  Maybe in a few months time.  Or maybe when we meet our Paris emission target through accounting loophole.  Not happy mo-mo.

Regards.
Tracy

Australia.  Perfect one day.  Bushfires the next.

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A Vow Softly Spoken

What is life without hope?  Amidst the ashes and broken dreams wrought by the bushfires in Australia, life goes on.

A Vow Softly Spoken

smoke in the distance
lights a wildfire in our heart
hope for the future
heart, mind, body, soul
we shall overcome

wedding

My nephew and his lovely lady got married recently.   I wish them all the very best.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt — Wedding.

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Calendar Days

Speaking of calendars, my husband (aka my True Love) bought one the other day.  It’s a long story.   495 words to be exact-ish.  We didn’t buy a calendar last year and by mid year, regretted that decision.  Anyway, my husband has ordered one.  From a Danish vlogger of all people!  I am as surprised as you, ladies and gentlemen. Read more

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A Rite Or A Right?

Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with my Readers.  I have to admit that I’ve had a busy month with mosaicing, a short trip away from home, a medical procedure (all good, by the way).  so I haven’t really had time to think about a song for this Friday.  The deciding factor for me is that while I’ve been able to get on with my life, so many of my fellow Australians have not had the same luxury. Read more

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Stir The Mountain Pygmy Possum

In Australia, the expression ‘to stir the possum’ means to stir up trouble, controversy, or interest in an issue.  So I thought I would use that expression to generate awareness of the critically endangered mountain pygmy possum.  There are less than 2000 mountain pygmy possums left in the wild and their survival is on a knife’s edge.  What a tragedy it would be if they were lost to us forever.  I have just completed my mountain pygmy possum mosaic and am excited to share it with you.  Then, one thing led to another, and I had to write a poem for them too.  There is always hope and as usual, good people are working hard to save them.  Find out more about these incredible little marsupials and how you can help them here.  Now for the poem. Read more

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Beneath The Surface

This is my response to the Lens-Artists Weekly Photo Challenge — Creepy.  It is a dark and mournful story (hopefully).  The events, places and people described are purely fictional.  Illustrative photos made to fit, were taken on my recent short break.  Alrighty, let’s get on with it. Read more

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How Deep?

It is time for my Friday song post.  Where did the week go?  I’m relaxed and comfortable (in-joke, a little Aussie humour) at the seaside.  However, at the back of my mind, there is still this ominous foreboding that we are in too deep.  It’s a feeling that Australian singer-songwriter, Richard Clapton, writes so well about in his song, Deep Water.  So I thought it should be my Friday pick. Read more

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Kate’s Song

I think I’ve said enough recently so I should let someone else do the talking.  And singing, of course.  Because it is Friday and that is my song day.

I am also joining in with Thursday’s Ragtag Daily Prompt — A Flower Cried.  How confusing is that — a Friday song on Thursday?  Anyhoo, the subject of the prompt probably gives you a clue that you may want to skip this one or at least have a couple of handkerchiefs nearby.  Here is Eric Bogle singing Kate Wolf’s song, Cornflower Blue.

Take care everyone and have a good weekend.

Kind Regards.
Tracy

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Thanks For Nothing?

A few days ago, my feminist ideals were put to the test and found wanting.  I was having lunch in a restaurant whose main clientele were migrants to Australia.  I think I was the only Australian-born customer at that point in time.   In that nice, quiet haven, I witnessed an extraordinarily vile verbal attack by one diner on his female dining companion.  As he was speaking loudly enough (just below shouting volume) for all of us to hear, we were clearly meant to be complicit in the drama.  Or maybe it was just a tactic to embarrass and intimidate his companion.  Probably the latter.  It was horrible. Read more

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Back On The Food Chain Gang

It is Friday, so it is time for a song.  But first, a couple of photos and a story about the one that got away.  There are some photos, ladies and gentlemen, that should never be cropped and enlarged, so of course, I couldn’t resist.

(This post contains content that may gross out some readers.) Read more