Where Am I?

Dear Readers, this is just a short post to let you know I continue to be persona non grata at the moment, meaning that my comments on your wonderful blogs are ending up as spam, or in some cases, are just disappearing into the ether.  I know not why, but if you have been wondering why I’ve been so quiet lately, please do check your spam folders.  If I’m not there, but exist somewhere else in the cloud mists of the internet, please know that I am with you in spirit, and that I will continue to talk to myself as it were, as I am quite certain that you would not deliberately ignore my very polite comments.

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How mysterious!  What is equally mysterious is that my phone’s photo software has been updated and now I no longer look like myself.  When taking a selfie, which I hardly ever do except if it is to show off some ridiculous beanie that I’ve purchased, the phone re-shapes my face (makes it thinner) and irons out the wrinkles.

Check out this photo.  I look like some animé character that is about ten years old.  This is the last that you will see of me, except of course if I have any further admin notices.

 

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

Response to the Ragtag Daily PromptElaborate.

Lens-Artists Challenge – Less Is More

This week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge is hosted by Amy.  Her chosen theme is “less is more“.  Amy’s inspiration for this theme is a quote by Antoine de Saint-Exupery:

“A designer knows he has achieved perfection not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.” 

Now that is a very intriguing notion to me, because it seems to me that there is nothing more perfect than nature’s design. Read more

For Any – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

I recently read a blog that raised big, important questions around democracy and leadership. These issues are dear to my heart, and I suspect that I may attempt to untangle them in my own mind in the fullness of time. Knowing where we want to go is one thing, knowing how to get there is another. Perhaps the solution is easier than we think? Maybe it has something to do with choice? Ah, choice. Yet another concept that exercises my mind.

Anyway, in the interim, here is a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon that speaks to this matter in ways that I can only aspire to.

If you haven’t checked out Paul’s poetry, you really should. It is wonderful.

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Power – Word of the Day

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Photo: fiveglobalvalues.com

For Any

Gestures of power fall in different ways,
and becomes ways of being,
for good or ill,
either for self,
or, for community,
though neither to judged,
until power is imprisoned
and forced into perversion,
the servitude of the many for the one.
But beauty,
artistry,
compassion,
breath,
nature,
demand more,
they are great equations of true power,
neither for the one or the many,
simply love for any,
in this shared venture we call life.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Paul, pvcann.com

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Remembrance Day

I think it is always worth bearing in mind that there may be differing views held by service men and women and their families about Remembrance Day and other days commemorating military victories and defeats. I’ve heard these views expressed myself in articles I’ve read and radio interviews I’ve listened to. Some find it particularly galling that these commemorations are held with all due solemnity and fanfare and yet our elected representatives appear to have learnt nothing from these conflicts. Often there is much censure for daring to question the symbolism of the occasions. Here is a reflection on Remembrance Day by David Cox, whose father fought in WWII.

Our Off the Grid Home

I barely acknowledge it.  I don’t hate it like I hate some stupid societal rituals but I don’t feel what I should about it.  So, it comes.  It goes.  I should put on a better show than just buying a poppy, I suppose, but my father didn’t have much time for it.  I learned from him.   And he should know.

Seaforth Highlanders.  Italy.  WWII.

My father was wounded badly in a historic battle at Ortona.  Hit by heavy artillery. Lay hanging in a tree in the battle ground for three days.  Carried out on the dead cart.  Received a 100% disability pension.  They not only didn’t think he’d live, they thought that if he did, he’d be a vegetable.  And they were right for about 15 years – like the plant in the Little Shop of Horrors, though.  After that, he got a bit of life back but even then…

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A field of red poppies at the Australian War Memorial: a sea of love and thanks

I thought I might I pop down to the Australian War Memorial to look at the field of crocheted/knitted poppies that has been put in place to commemorate the centenary of the Armistice (end of WWI). In the meantime, I’ve discovered that Christine from Booming On has already posted on this. As I cannot improve on her words and photos, I am sharing her post with you.

Christine has an excellent blog. Why not drop in and check out her blog.

BoomingOn

Sea of red knitted poppies planted at the Australian War Memorial

More than five years ago, two sisters-in-law – Lynn and Margaret – began knitting 120 poppies to honour their fathers who died during the Second World War. Those poppies grew into a community movement that’s collected hordes of volunteers, crossed oceans and spawned the creation of hundreds of thousands of poppies seen in gardens, ceremonies and displays across the world to honour our soldiers.

Last week in Canberra, a garden sea of these beautiful handmade red poppies was planted on the lawns of the Australian War Memorial, on their final stop in their world travels.

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There are 62,000 poppies in the garden, knitted or crocheted by loving hands, each poppy representing an Australian soldier who died in the First World War. The display is part of the commemorations of approaching centenary of the armistice, which marked the official end of the First World War. That was ‘the war to end all…

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Pool Party

This is my response to the Ragtag Daily Prompt of Saturday, 21 July 2018 — Duck.

I’m very sad to say that for most of my children’s lives, we had neither the money, time or energy to go on holiday together.  Certainly, my husband and I rarely had holidays together as we took turns to take time off work to look after the children during the school holidays.  The lack of family holidays is one of my biggest regrets in life.  A few years ago, my husband and the boys went on a road trip around Victoria (Australia).  I stayed home (with flu), and sent my little ducklings off with their dad on a great adventure. Read more

Tis the Season

Readers, there will be a short break in transmission while I am laid low with the dreaded flu.  Fortunately, I had my flu shot a few months ago otherwise I fear it could have been much worse.  Even so, it is very unpleasant.  The rest of my family were “too busy” to organise their shots, so they are much worse off.

The moral of this story is get your flu shot early.  You may still get the flu, but hopefully it won’t be as bad.

Regards
Tracy

All My Trials – The Finnish Spitz

Here is my contribution to the Ragtag Daily Prompt of 12 June 2018 – atavism. It is a about the Finnish Spitz, one of only a handful of dog breeds descended from the now extinct Taymyr wolf.  Since writing this post, my dog, Ama, has retired from obedience competition. She is a bitch honey. Perhaps she has more Taymyr wolf in her than some of that wolf’s other descendants.

Reflections of An Untidy Mind

I’ve been training my two primitive dogs (a Finnish Spitz and a Finnish Lapphund) for a couple of years now.  We have had many successes and failures.  We’ve had frustration and tears of joy.  Just this past week, my little Finkie (short for Finnish Spitz), Ama, achieved her first obedience title (Rally Novice).  Yay, go Ama!  I have often felt the urge to document my experiences in training this tricky and wonderful breed, so I thought I would include my experiences in my blog (under the category All My Trials – Dog Training Karma). 

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