My father is definitely thinner. Frailer. His kidneys are failing him but I can’t decide whether he has lost his mind. He probably has, but I don’t want to face it. Most likely because, if he has lost his mind, I am not far behind him. But this is not about me.
My father needs to decide whether to go on dialysis. He’s old. And frail. And forgets things. Did I mention that? However, he has always been rather forgetful as he doesn’t pay attention.
There’s probably only one sure thing. Ama, our little dog who is supposed to be dead by now, will probably outlast us both. She doesn’t forget anything. The diagnostic blood test clearly didn’t tell the full story. The excess insulin in her system was from her pancreas correcting for the dawn phenomenon and not from a tumour. Ama is unusual but not that unusual. Thank Dog!
So here we all are. Not going strong, but still going. Hope you are too.
I give up. I can’t write anything to save myself. Can just imagine myself shipwrecked on a desolate island and not being able to write “help” on the beach.
So catching up on some news, I went to the National Folk Festival in Canberra (Australia) a few weeks ago. I had a lovely time. There was such a full program. Kudos to the event organisers who put on a such a great festival under very difficult financial circumstances. The word of the festival was hope. It cheered me that so many people still had it. That makes sense, doesn’t it, because how could they sing without it?
Anyway, you would have liked to hear about the culture of the Ngunawal people, the traditional custodians of the land that is now Canberra. First Nation’s songstresses, Stiff Gins and Suga Cane Mamas sang heartfelt songs of family and country. Professional storyteller, Kiran Shah. told the story of the mouse deer who, although he was small, outwitted the crocodiles. And how powerful is Chilean folk legend, Nano Stern? The list goes on and on.
I also loved the community choirs. Newcastle (Australia) community choir, Ukastle Ukestra and Ukestral Voices won the 2025 Festival Infinite Song Contest. I couldn’t have been happier for them.
I had fun. Then I got Covid. Not fun. I’m recovering. Would I go again? Absolutely.
Sing out, everyone.
Kind Regards. Tracy.
*Photos from L-R. Ukastle Ukestra & Ukestral Voices, Queen of Hearts, Kiran Shah.
Remember when I used to write poetry? I am looking forward to visiting the National Folk Festival in Canberra this Easter. It’s been six years since I last attended. Makes me feel all nostalgic and poetic. Here’s a repeat of a poem from my early, hopeful days in this place.
The Womb. The GREAT MOTHER. The jewel in the crown. This place. Our world. Read more
Just imagine a young nature loving Aussie bloke was travelling overseas to Europe for the first time in a few weeks time but had not organised his flights or itinerary, or anything really, nor done any research, etc, what would you suggest he could do that fill up about five days or so?
So far all that I know that has been organised is a flight to London to visit the Kew Botanic Gardens and the Natural History Museum. Then somehow he is to make his way to Switzerland to see his friend and a dipper. Then do something else before flying out to Singapore, a destination for which he hasn’t even booked a flight!
Is this the way of grown men with little travel experience? Anyway, any suggestions for must sees? Plants and wildlife being the key attraction. Let’s not mention the crappy exchange rate. I’ve suggested he take a suitcase of protein bars and chocolate.
Everything you wanted to know about a little old dog who has been diagnosed with insulinoma (an aggressive insulin producing tumour), but were too afraid to ask.
To recap. Our little dog, Ama, had a bad episode of pancreatitis in January. Too much cheese and yoghurt. She came home from the specialist vet with a not unreasonable diagnosis of insulinoma and a blood glucose sensor. Her medical team had trouble stabilising her blood glucose levels and a blood test showed a high insulin blood serum level. Two weeks of BG data indicated that her BGLs were fine.
We suspect the diagnosis may be wrong. So we took her back to the specialist vet who confirmed she had insulinoma. However her regular vet hadn’t sent through her BG data, so we did that after the appointment. People get busy. It happens. And then we heard nothing.
This week we took Ama to the regular vet for another BG sensor and follow up blood tests because nothing much seems to have changed. And those tests were fine! However the new BG home data indicates lowish but steady BGLs. So, who the hell knows?
By necessity, Ama has been rather sedentary. Don’t want her to go hypo. Mostly she sleeps in the kitchen. It is her domain now, reinforcing her superiority over the other dogs. We will do a few experiments while she has the new sensor and see what happens to her BGLs when we introduce some exercise.
Anyway, the prognosis for untreated insulinoma was six months at most. It’s been three months. Ama continues none too shabbily.
So we wait and wonder. None of us are in a hurry to see the back of her, including her regular vet team who we overhead call her the nice one. We shall not mention that to Fynnie or Makea.
Is my backside too big?
In the meantime, we medicate Ama with non-fat treats. Ama doesn’t complain but she would prefer cheese.
Take care, everyone. Stay calm and don’t forget to eat a treat every now and then.
My time flies when one becomes the latest keyboard warrior. More letters have flown off, winging on a slow breeze rather than darting quickly to strike their target. At the pace I’m keeping, the road will be built and trees chopped down before I strike my final cursive blow. Weeding also bounds along at a more rapid pace given the procrastination factor. Work on the home garden continues when the park care weeding does not provide sufficient distraction from the sardonic writing.
At one of my group weeding sessions, I had to flee due to a medical tech malfunction and in our haste to leave, my camera fell out of my tool bucket and smashed. My True Love made it up to me by buying me a new camera. Given I haven’t been quite in my right mind, I decided on a camera that I thought my True Love would like – you know, in the event that I drop off my perch, it wouldn’t be a waste of money.
Anyway, anyway, I’ve taken up backyard photography again while I work out how to operate this new camera. Also, my True Love tells me I am not allowed to put the new one in the tool bucket.
I’m using weedy native colonisers to enrich the soil in the backyard and as protection for some of the more difficult to establish local natives. I’ve discovered that it is far easier to establish new plants in soil that already has a good ground cover rather than in bare dirt. I suppose all you gardeners already knew that.
Phone photo.
The wrens like all the weedy colonisers, eg native cudweed and crumbweed.
New camera. It can take photos through lots of grass. Not brilliant but you get the idea of what these little birds like.
Anyway, anyway, anyway, gotta fly.
She’s off.
Take care, everyone, and see you again when next procrastination strikes.
I thought now would be a good time to repeat this post about my little dog, Ama, for she is now 12 and has been quite unwell again. She recently spent a week in the vet hospital with severe pancreatitis and left with a diagnosis of insulinoma, an aggressive cancer. She’s been home for two weeks now and is still quite bright. Not at all like a dog on her last legs. “Perhaps the diagnosis is wrong?” I entreated the vet on our last visit. He didn’t think so based on a relevant blood test. I still hold out hope. That’s quite strange for me because I am usually such a catastrophiser. In the meantime, we continue to enjoy her company and deprive her of cheese. Life is so unfair.
*****
This post is dedicated to my little dog, Ama, who is not well. So far we know that she has copper storage disease but not how bad it is or whether we can mitigate it. I’ve not had much time for blogging lately as we’ve had a lot of medical appointments and I’ve been researching treatments, including low copper diets. It helps to be informed when talking to veterinary specialists. It also gives me something to do while I worry.
Ama’s birthday is this Saturday. She’ll be six. When I was looking for a pet name for her, I read that Ama meant born on a Saturday (in Ghanaian). As she was born on a Saturday, and the name had a nice ring to it, we just went with that (plus we like to say Um-ah when she is naughty). She also has a pedigree name – Eurabbie Taehti. Taehti means Polar Star in Finnish. Everything does seem to revolve around the little minx so it is fitting, but more importantly, she lights the way.
It is hard work being a campaigner/activist/decent human being.
During 2024, I spent far too much time rehabilitating our local green space. A big shout out to everyone who joined our Landcare team on this journey. Thank you. In my spare time, I also started a campaign to save some nearby trees. See here. I seriously doubt my ability to keep up the pace. Now I have to write some letters to the powers-that-be. Despite whatever conclusions you may come to while reading this blog, I can assure you that writing is not my forté. Eating chocolate while never getting past the first paragraph is more my thing.
I’m pretty annoyed at how my suburb has been treated. While other suburbs get rehabilitated green spaces and wetlands, we get another big shopping centre, a concrete footpath, yet another sporting oval, and a main road replacing our habitat trees. More trees will be planted apparently to offset the destruction. However, the remnant trees that are to be removed are irreplaceable. The little birds may also have something to say about the removal of many of the other eucalypts that fringe our suburb. Meanwhile, our Landcare team is waiting for a local eucalyptus sapling we requested, to be planted at our Landcare site. We have been waiting for nearly two years. Apparently, there is a shortage. Well, duh. It is no wonder the government’s vote declined at the last election. Wouldn’t it be good if I could send them a message another way, rather than wasting my precious time on writing letters that more than likely will be ignored? Something like this music clip below perhaps.
It has taken me three years to grow this small clump of Button Wrinklewort on my street verge. Button Wrinklewort (Rutidosis leptorynchoides) is critically endangered. At least 10 plants are needed to establish a self-sustaining population. I only have five in this patch. Who knows what the new year might bring?
If you are going to attempt growing some endangered plants, please make sure that you source seed or tubestock from a reputable supplier. We bought tubestock from a local nursery who often grows rare plants for the local government.
Happy New Year, everyone. Hope is a Button Wrinklewort.
Earlier in the year, our little Finnish Spitz, Ama, suffered an unpleasant medical episode, or at least we thought she had. One night she wouldn’t settle. She paced and whined, panted and barked constantly. For hours. I thought she was having a heart attack so my True Love rushed her to the overnight emergency vet.
The vet said she was in pain, maybe a back injury, so they gave her some strong pain medication and told us to keep her quiet. It didn’t work. She continued to pace, whine and bark. All night in fact. She also wanted to go outside every five minutes and cried at the back door. We were exhausted. What were we to do? At 6am, we took her to the other emergency vet for the blood tests we had declined the previous evening. The blood tests revealed very little. It was a mystery. The vet gave her a sedative so that we, I mean, she, could get some rest. We slept all day and Ama seemed to improve. As evening approached, she started to get agitated again.
A couple of months later, she saw her regular specialist – special girl that our cherub is. We discussed the possibility of dementia but he could see no evidence of cognitive decline. The verdict? She’s getting old and demanding.
Weeks later it came to pass that the same thing happened again. But this time, the cause of this agitation became abundantly clear.
A possum eating our climbing rose! Ama is now banned from going out at dusk and early evening until we check that the coast is clear. Typical Finnish Spitz. The force (hunting instinct) is strong in them. So is the cheese instinct, but that’s another story.
Ama turned 12 years old in December. She still shines brightly.
Here’s to Ama.
Take care, everyone. May your evenings be free of rose-eating possums.