Go,Team!

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.

Today I met up with friends for coffee. It was the first time we had coffeed for about six months due to Covid restrictions. It took me a while to engage my mouth again. It worked. 95.8% of Canberrans over 12 years of age are now double-vaxed so more and more restrictions are being removed. To our north, Sydneysiders are also achieving high vaccination levels. Hence, double-vaxed Sydneysiders can now travel to Canberra (Australia).

Anyway, my friends and I did some e-bike baby-sitting for a lady who had come down from Sydney. Unfortunately, I didn’t ask her name but I do know the name of her dog. It’s Evie and Evie is a miniature Schnauzer. The two of them decided to hire an e-bike and go for a ride. Evie rode pillion in her mum’s backpack. It was Evie’s first time riding pillion. She was a little champion. Naturally, I had to take a couple of photos.

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A Tragedy Of Sorts

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.

There was a huge commotion in the backyard late this afternoon. Birds were screeching. Ama launched herself at high speed hoping to join the fray. My True Love beat her to it. One of the three magpie chicks had caught its wing in the dog fence, possibly trying to escape our big dog, Makea. Maybe the chick was already trapped before Makea arrived on the scene to complicate matters. The other magpies were screeching overhead and swooping to fend off the attackers. My True Love untangled its wing and popped it over the dog fence but it was injured and unable to fly.

In Canberra, we have this marvelous system where all vets provide a community service by treating injured wildlife. I was in two minds about whether to separate the maggie chick from its family and take it to the vet. It was pouring rain, the little bird was sodden and hurt, and of course, there was Clyde, our neighbour’s evil, cat to worry about. So My True Love and I reluctantly boxed it up and took it in. All going well, the chick should go to the wildlife carer tomorrow before being released back in the vicinity when it fully recovers. We hope its parents accept it back into the family again.

We are all in shock. We wonder whether we are now off the magpie family’s Christmas card list and will become swooping targets in future. Maybe the chick will become a swooper due to the trauma. Maybe I shouldn’t worry so much about evil Clyde and worry more about my own evil hounds. It is notable that Fynnie, our male dog, remained inside during all the commotion. As far as he is concerned, traipsing around in the rain is strictly for the birds.

How shattered ma and pa magpie must be right now! It breaks my heart. What song could possibly convey that? I dunno, but I am going with Lullaby of Birdland, performed by Andrea Motis, Joan Chamorro, Scott Hamilton and Ignasi Terraza (the latter playing a very special introduction).

Take care, everyone. Try not to worry.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

RDP – Under the Weather

A Time For Everything

Welcome to my regular (and early) 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. Today, I am going to get nostalgic.

I can’t remember a time when the house wasn’t dilapidated. The house sat upon tall timber pylons three storeys high, but there was nothing underneath it. The story goes that there were plans for a shop below the house but those plans never came to fruition. To the passerby, it might have looked like a giant birdhouse. This was fitting because two older ladies lived in that house. The younger was my grandmother, the elder was her mother, my great grandmother. My grandfather lived up the road. That was odd, but odd is normal for us.

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No Escape

From the photo archive.

A glare or stare makes all the difference in the realm of raptors. Glares are the domain of goshawks, stares are left for sparrows, sparrowhawks that is. Impending darkness obscures the form and casts confusion. The pied currawong does not engage in such esoteric debates. Nor does the raptor. There will be no escape for the hawk with no name as the currawong launches its attack. Such interlopers will not be tolerated.

It looks like a glare to me. What do you think?

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

Shake It

Welcome to another 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 been a newsie week which leaves me with many options for this week’s Friday song. We had the sudden announcement of the Aussie government’s cancellation of its French sub contract, and instead the government will purchase you-beaut US nuclear-powered subs. Oh wait, the French have nuclear-powered subs but we didn’t want nuclear subs at the time. Did we even give the French a chance to bid for the new contract? Maybe not. Consequently, and apologies to the French, ABBA’s Waterloo and Fat Boy Slim’s Weapon Of Choice, immediately popped into my head!

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To Rescue Or Not?

Several years ago I attended an informal estate auction organised for friends and family. It was organised by my friend and her family who had been given some bits and pieces left over once the formal disbursement of a family friend’s estate had concluded. The plan was to use any money raised from the auction to support the physical care needs of my friend’s niece who had suffered an acquired brain injury at birth.

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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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A Busy Week Already

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 almost run out of groceries (no bread or milk left) as I normally get them on Thursday or Friday. Food doesn’t last long in my house with three men and one anxious, stress-eater woman residing therein. I knew I should have gone food shopping yesterday, but the sun was shining so I walked instead. So of course, a Covid case turned up in Canberra (Australia) today – the first local to Canberra case of community transmission in over a year. Anyhoo, this afternoon Canberra went into a snap 7-day lockdown with only a few hours notice. As soon as I heard the news, I dashed across town to get the fish for the dog with the copper storage disease. Unfortunately, I didn’t get into the shopping centre because it was a shit-fight for parking (and no doubt shopping trolleys) so I returned home instead. I also briefly cruised past the little local shopping centre I often frequent but it was pandemonium there too. I did manage to get some Turkish bread from the local takeaway so the lads should be good for a day or so.

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