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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.

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Hidden In the Rushes

I am posting this again in memory of my mum’s dog, Ashie.  He died today from a serious illness.  There is only one line and photo in this poem-ish photo-essay that relates to him, but it sums up this beautiful dog so well, at least in my opinion.  Farewell, lovely boy.  You will be missed.

***

When our family ventures out to our beautiful natural areas, we go slowly, for it is only then that nature’s hidden treasures are revealed.  We take out, what we carry in.  We tread lightly and with care.  There may be no houses, but we are nevertheless going into someone else’s home.  This is what we taught our children from a very young age.

Let’s see who is home today – in the rushes.

moorhen2

The little family is well camouflaged.  It is a Dusky Moorhen with her chick.  

moorhenchick

The chick leaves the safety of its nest, but mum is not too far away.

swan2

The black swan and her signets weren’t expecting visitors.

swanb

But all is calm, so peace is soon restored.

Ashy

Come out of there, Ash, and leave those ducks alone.  Ash is a farm dog.  He knows to not hurt the wildlife.

No comments necessary.

First published in 2018

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Round The Bend

There has been many a twist and turn, and a few curve balls thrown at us over the last few weeks.

My mother and step-father visited from up north, skirting the floods that have left thousands homeless on the east coast of Australia. It has been over two years since I had my hair cut. My mother plaited it for me. The plait was a bit wonky, so perfect for me.

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Christmas Tale

The year that my sister, brother and I had our last Christmas together with our father, was probably the same year that my father bought a jet ski and a schmick new wetsuit to affirm his mid-life experiment. In keeping with the new purchases, he also rented a holiday house at the south coast over the Christmas/New Year holiday period. It was our first ever trip to, and holiday at, the south coast. Summer holidays at the coast are a Canberra tradition that was normally beyond our means. My father also paid for my brother and sister to fly down from Queensland for the festivities, the offer to pay the airfares alone being insufficient to bribe them to make the trip south.

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On Creating A Myth

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.

For reasons that I am ashamed of now, I decided not to send my children to our local primary school. Instead, I decided to send them to a school out of area. Anyway, for entirely different reasons, it turned out to be a good decision. At first it seemed that we might not be able to get our eldest child into our chosen school. This was quite distressing for our son because he wanted to go to the school with the rocket in the playground. My husband and I also checked out the Catholic primary school in the same suburb as some of my child’s friends would also be attending that school. I was upfront with the principal of the Catholic school about our lack of religion. I explained to him that my child was interested in dinosaurs, planetary science and, you know, evolution. The principal was quick to reassure me that the religious education was only a small component of the curriculum and that the bible was not taught as some literal truth but more as guiding stories. I thought that was very enlightened. I can’t imagine getting that type of response these days. However, at that time, almost half the children who went to Catholic schools weren’t actually Catholic. In the end, a place came up at the rocket ship school and so a temper tantrum was avoided and I did not have to deal with my own internal conflict.

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Child

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.

I’ve been distracted recently by world, domestic and local crises over the past few weeks. This week, however, I would like to return to my musical journey around the world. Shall we go the Philippines today for a song about misspent youth and family reconciliation? In some cultures, children are expected to rebel, in other cultures it is the reverse. Rebellion is kids’ way of saying, “I’m not you.” Anyway, the song is Anak (meaning child), written and performed by 70s folk singer, Freddie Aguilar. Lyrics in Tagalog are included in the video so that you can sing along. Enjoy.

Be gentle, everyone.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

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Canaries, Currawongs and Cockatoos

No canaries were harmed in this story.

Shall we have a story about what really happens at Tracy’s house? It is a difficult story to tell because I’m not sure we are doing the right thing by our pet canary. He used to be one of a small flock of house canaries. The little flock had a lovely life together, with free flight across the lounge room, luxurious baths, fresh greens picked for them from the garden, and seed treats, before being tucked into their cages for the night. Life was rosy but, like us, the little birds got old, until, only one, Pan of the wild song, remained.

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Leaving The Light On

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.

I’m about to head off to my second medical appointment for the week. Not to worry, just routine stuff. Anyone who has had much interaction with the Australian medical system will appreciate how much the quality of that system depends on the health professionals from India who have made Australia their home. In the blogosphere, many of my readers are also from India or have extended family in India. One of my blogger friends from Delhi has told me that whatever we may be seeing about the Covid disaster there is only the tip of the iceberg. I am anxiously waiting an update.

I’m dedicating my song choice to all the people who have lost loved ones to Covid. The song, Edna’s Song, is written and sung by Ange Takats.

For Su’s Friday Flowers and song, see here.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

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To Me

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.

I had picked a song for Friday but I decided to release it early (see here). So now I have had to come up with a song in a hurry. In that earlier post, for the first time I spoke about my age, kinda. But you probably had already guessed my approximate vintage because the clue is in my name. Tracies are of a certain era, aren’t they? In my experience, and I should know, they’re normally born in the 1960s.

Here is an old photo of my younger sister and me riding Lightning.

So back to us Tracies. We even have a song named after us. It is called Tracy and it is sung by The Cufflinks. Note the correct spelling. Shall we hear it?

Thanks for listening. But there’s more, Su from Zimmerbitch has also chimed in with one of my favourite songs (see here).

Take care, everyone.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

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Time To Go

A Short Story

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Monday was her day to relax after the weekend hustle and bustle of family activities. Finally, alone! Before she had taken her first sip of coffee, the shrill ring of the phone pierces the late morning stillness. It was too good to be true. It was her father. “I’m coming over,” he says. She closes her eyes and sinks back into the chair. She didn’t even have time to make her excuses, not that she would have anyway.

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