You've Never Seen Anything Like It . . . Well you probably have . .but

Each year and after first placements in a variety of regional agricultural shows, the Royal Australian Agriculture Society runs the Sydney Easter Show! It's quite an event. I think something like State Fairs in the US. Full of exhibits, animals, fun rides, food, wine and performance.

I swore two years ago I wouldn't go again because of the heat and the crowds and the showbags and the crowds and the pong and the crowds but with little else to do on Good Friday and big kids begging, we hit the showbus and spent the best part of 11 hours with every bogun in Sydney.

Held at the former Olympic site the place was packed with that unique olfactory blend of animal poo, fairy floss and pluto pups. Every other person had a silly fluoro wig and a helium balloon. Children grizzled, youths showed off and the stroller army ploughed through everyone.

Generally we leave the fun park alone and this year didn't even venture near a dagwood dog but took our own picnic of wholemeal rolls and fruit boxes . . .OK we did succumb to some hot chips and barbecue sauce for tea! And I might have had a chocolate thick shake.

Colourful carousel

Copious crowds

Bobbing balloons

Educated equines

Colourful cows

Bucket boy

Boofuls babies . . .

Pacified pigs

Mollycoddled milkers

Fleet farriers

Pretty pussies!

Wubbly Woofas

Various Veg

Fab fruit

Amazing apples

Nasty knits

Reused and recycled

Deliciously decorated

Urban Utes

Twinkly twilight

Campdrafting

Polo ponies

Rough riders

Motocross madness

Precision poise

Fiery finale

Captivating carousel

Knackered nutters

A Little Chocolate for the Soul

Ok I've been blogging for almost three years and have received some very nice accolades and the odd award so I figured, being Easter and . . well . . .I'm not religious . . .and . . I like the odd bit of chocolate as I know many of you do . .and . . we've just done eggs to death and . . .well it's a busy weekend so I haven't time to post . . and . . .I think you're all the 'ants' pants' and . . .well you're all very good for my soul. So I made you an award. Yep, all of you (actually I didn't 'make' the dainty treat in the photo although I did take part in demolishing it - that was Clare's effort for Christmas, a little chocolate almond Christmas tree for after-dinner nibblies) But it's dark and rich and high quality. It's sweet with a little 'bite' and everybody loved it and was very easily digested - exactly how I feel about your blogs and comments . . .so seems an appropirate thank you . . Happy Passover, Easter, or whatever it is you celebrate . . take a little Chocolate for your Soul because you're all pretty bloody wonderful!

Eggs

Theme Thursday, my how quickly they come around . . this week in tribute to the upcoming Easter Weekend - EGGS!


Short nosed echidna . . he has a long nosed cousin!

Where I live it’s a rare thing to come across, meet, socialise or even attend a school with a
full blood aboriginal person. Sad reflection perhaps on the relative success of the white Australia policy that saw them either marginalised or slowly ‘bred white’. Where I live is on Dharuk country and one time home of the Bidjidal people. The land that is now called Castle Hill was home to Pemulwuy, a Bidjigal leader who lead a resistance movement against the British including sacking farms in Castle Hill before he was captured, beheaded and his head returned to England as a museum piece.

I know that the Bidjigal people wandered across my land even though these days, there are no signs of them ever existing, I know because the tree in my front yard saw it all and told me so. Whilst the Bidjigal are a rarety these days, there are two other Australians that have crossed my land since Australia broke from Gwandanaland and they too have baffled science and are are indeed a rarety around these parts. The Echidna and the Platypus.

The creek that now has been culverted and diverted, filled and damned just on the corner of
my block would have once been home to platypus and actually I have seen an echidna on the block but many years ago although environmental studies claim that they’re still around.

All that is well and good, but what is unusual about the Platypus and the Echidna is not the fact that they are indeed bizarre looking, or that they are marsupials (have a pouch), nor that they are native to Australia, nor that they’ve been around since Pemulwuy was a baby but that they That is are monotremes. The key anatomical difference between monotremes and other mammals is the one that gave them their name; Monotreme means 'single opening' in Greek word ‘monos’ meaning single and ‘trema’ meaning hole. In fact their urinary, defecatory, and reproductive systems all open into a single duct, evenmore astounding when you learn that these mammals, lay eggs!

Yes, they are warm blooded, produce milk in mammary glands and hatch a clutch of eggs.

Duck Billed Platypus - although I don't know why that name because there's no other kind! Cute but has a nasty poisonous spur on his hind legs

Rival - An Anti Gun Rant

Wednesday Carnival has been re-christened the Madhouse - and this week it's Rivals.

I started thinking about this one in terms of personal experience but I have no rivals, none of whom I'm aware and I don't think anyone considers me their rival. I am singularly uncompetitive a B plus, a "P"s are degrees type but I remembered a song by Pearl Jam called Rival and then Glorified G came to mind . . both of which are protests about liberal gun ownership. Opportune since Kate herself had a scare when unable to contact a member of her family who was in Binghampton this week during the most recent shooting. Fortunately, all ended well for her, not so the poor victims of a rabid gunman. A man who would ordinarily have never picked up a weapon but found it so easy to obtain one and vent his wrath.

I've had many discussions with Americans regarding this issue. Mainly in a hope of understanding why gun control is such a tetchy subject in the US. I've talked both with those who are pro-control and those who are extremely anti. Sports shooters, competitive shooters, libertarians and peace activists. Some are for gun ownership, some staunchly against and from those who live in a country based on liberation by the bullet box I am not surprised. This is not a criticisms of my American friends. Indeed, I understand completely the constitutional 'right to bear arms' and the complexity of legislating against a population that largely embraces non regulation and libertarian policies but I don't understand gun ownership in the modern context, legal or otherwise. It has been many years since the need for a gun to conquer the west, we no longer need to circle the wagons.

I also understand that firmer gun control will not stop killings via illegal and unregistered firearms. Murderers will murder, militarists will take hostages and wackos are wacko even if their name isn't Jacko. However, over here, after Australia's only mass killing at Port Arthur, the Government instigated a 'gun buy-back' an amnesty for all illegal gun owners to cash in their chips, surrender their guns and be compensated for doing so. It worked pretty well. I'm not saying it prevented shootings, it didn't but we have nowhere near the ratio of gun deaths, accidental or otherwise that exists in the US.

I often wonder. Suppose the US sustained as many military deaths in warzones as they did in domestic shootings would the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan still be going? There have been 4,265 US deaths since the invasion of Iraq . . the latest fatality on April 5 this year. The closest stats I can find relating to domestic shootings are 29,569 in 2005. So I'm thinking they're conservative by today's standards.

The US leads the world in gun deaths per head of population. Murders and suicides and accidental deaths caused by guns, seconded only by Brasil and Mexico. Defenders of gun ownership will tell you that 50% of the gun deaths are suicides - Does this make them better? Does easy access to a weapon of self-destruction justify the end? The fact that someone who has easy access to a weapon which can end their life rather than hang on a bit, seek help, think twice, terrifies me! If I had a gun in the top drawer last time I felt overwhelmed and emotional, might I have grabbed it as an easy option?

I constantly hear people saying 'You won't change it', 'Too much water under the bridge', 'We have a right to carry a gun' or 'Mine's registered and locked away . .' and the gun lobby still protesting that it is their constitutional right to 'defend' themselves. Against what? Where does this paranoia come from? What is so terrifying for the average middle class American that they need a gun in their purse or glovebox? Guns didn't save anyone during the World Trade Centre atrocity. Guns were of no assistance to the victims of Virginia Tech or Columbine High School.

I could bombard you with statistics but you can Google those for yourself. My point, the gun has no rival when it comes to being an instrument of death whether suicide, accidental or pre-meditated, there is no place for these weapons outside sporting competition, feral animal control and war!

AND

Although I originally thought the lyric was a Glorified Version of a Pelican . .

I'm Stuck!

Tis true! I've had quite a few emails alerting me to the fact that my comments aren't sticking because they're stuck . . . in spam. Filters that is! I try to revisit sites to see what you've said about comments but it isn't always possible so I haven't noticed which sites have me languishing in the filter. I changed my ISP a couple of weeks ago and some of you have such feisty filters that I'm twiddling my thumbs there there waiting to make a comment.

So if you haven't heard from me in a while, and you're used to at least a weekly jibe or banal bit of banter in your comment box, check your spam filters and I bet I'm there!

Then again, some things are better left untouched . . it's up to you!

Bella Vista - And I'm not Just Talking About the Ice Cream Dude

Clare and I had a little walk up to Bella Vista Farm Homestead today as the local historical society was having an open day and offering a rare opportunity to go beyond the cyclone fence and actually have a look at the place. I've posted before as there's a nice path and doggy walk up there and it's an easy 2km round trip.

The interior of the house is less spectacular and still undergoing restoration by volunteers so it's a slow process. I was hoping to 'snap' something spooky on this stairwell, it certainly looked ghoulie!

The fireplace has had a renno but the floorboards
and wall coverings are in need of some TLC.
The house was actually inhabited until 1954

It's a ramshackle collection of buildings and outhouses in various states of restoration on a lovely block of land swathed by suburbs and light industrial estates but rather sweet. There's an old stone homestead and today, there were animals and re-enactments by badly dressed and pathetically rehearsed volunteers. These I imagine are the military version of amateur dramatics groups who forget their drill as quickly as the amateur thespian forgets his lines.

There was colonial music that sounded pecularly Irish, arts and crafts of a very amateur and 'local' nature, bad hand knits and paintings that your three year old could outdo. Also the local enthusiasts wood-turning and showing off their faithfully restored steam engines and a swag of green polo shirted 'Friends of Bella Vista' only too willing to chat about it's history. I almost have enough grey hair and a bottom big enough to join these enthusiastic ladies who's moleskin trousers are so tight you can see the lace trim on their knickers through the fabric.

There was a shearing demo but we were a little early and having seen it done many times before, didn't hang around for the main event. (It's a man, shearing a sheep . . .not Cirque du Soliel)

What made it so lovely was the very fact that it was remarkably unspectacular, incredibly ordinary and beautifully banal. Like a little country fair somewhere in rural NSW where nobody put in too much effort but everyone had fun anyway. Somewhere you could take your kids, your dog and your deck chair and enjoy the chat and the sunshine!


You know what made this so gorgeous, the very fact that it was tacky, amateur, homely and simply. No fancy stalls, no showbags, no pretention or money grabbing. Entry was by donation of a gold coin. Most people seemed to know or recognise each other. Everyone wanted to pat the dog. The 'soldiers' threatened to eat Lily for lunch and terrified any unruly youngsters and were only too willing to pose for photos (erm I refrained).

Normally closed in by cyclone fence to deter vandals, today, Bella Vista farm, once the home of Merino breeding John and Elizabeth Macarthur and then to the orange growing Pearce family, it was open to the public.

Loads of little photographic gems in nooks and crannies,
more on Flickr if you're into that sort of thing

You can see the encroachment of suburbia on these almost 200 year old
timbers that were once the dairy.

Not quite the calibre of baa-lamb that they brought to the colony but hey, they keep the grass down. Don't you just wanna go 'baaaaaa' . . .each had names like Fleecity,Baabara and Shaun . .so original we Australians, so original . . .

An attempt to add 'props' to one of the barns proved effective with plastic onions but somehow came asunder with the visibility of zips and the impossibility of a pair of Dutch clogs?

Magestic . . .Moreton Bay fig trunks next to a rather less majestic corrugated iron dunny At least their chooks didn't turn into emus and kick that one down

"Struth Joy, lift yer bloody game, I'm spinnin' faster than a flamin' funnel web!"

So you love a man in uniform do you? Even a Redcoat? Well feast your eyes on THIS!

"Right lads, shape up, we're on public view here so
tighten yer belts, we're gonna be flat out like a bunch of lizards drinkin"

"Bruce do I poke this long thin thing into this other long thin thing?"
(please enlarge this one because I think it's the funniest thing I've seen all week)

"Crikey boys, get some synergy going here! You lot couldn't drive a greasy stick up a dog's arse!"

Gratuitous shot of a very handsome ice cream man
. .they never looked like that when I was a kid!
And no I didn't take this one, remember who I had with me?

As we prepare for our Royal Easter Show (yes I'm being dragged along next weekend to battle the armies of strollers, sticky kids and avenues daubed with cow poo) for a day of produce, pets, farm beasties and fireworks - this was a cute and quiet distraction just a quick walk from home on a fabulously sunny autumn day.

Friday Fuckwit

Recognise this man? I'd be interested if any of you Americans know who he is! He's been chatting with your President and assorted Secretaries of important things causing a ruckus over his love of China and applauding the rather sexy Obama's economic policy. (Sorry Ces but he is a bit Denzel Washington) They look happy don't they?

Did you Brits see him with Gordon Brown at Number 10? Surely you must have . . he was splashed on the front page and headlined the BBC News? What? He wasn't? He didn't? And we are still part of the Commonwealth you know? See, they're happy too, must have been the one about the Irishman, the Scotsman and the Australian . . .

Gordon: Oh mine's pointy like this

Kev: Now now settle Gordy . . what goes on tour, stays on tour!

This is Prime Minister Kevin Rudd . . king of the Antipodes who is currently pootling around the G20 heavyweights trying to put Australia on the map and to sell his 'package'.

Now I'm sure (being the forgiving and gullible person that I am) that all Politicians start with good intentions. They begin as bright students with the gift of the gab, then swagger from the school debating team to members of Young Labour or Young Liberals then on to local Council representation before hitting the relatively prestigious State Government and then off to the Federal Parliament. Unless of course they're Peter Garrett in which case they just have to be the lead singer of a Rock Band . .suddenly a widget in their brain turns them into dickheads . . nay . . .fuckwits . .

So . . this Friday Fuckwit (God I love that word) is our own, pussy-arse lipped, stupid hairdo, budget blowout, try-hard temporary vegetarian Kev 0 Sev! (You'd never think I voted for him would you? Then you should see the other side!)

PRIME Minister Kevin Rudd has downplayed reports that he reduced a young female RAAF cabin attendant to tears with a tirade of abuse because he did not get a meal he wanted during a VIP flight. Remember, girls and boys . .this woman is a soldier stuck on Airforce 'not quite 1' so he must have said something particularly nasty. Or maybe it was 'that certain time of the month' and she was a little fractious.

An official report was filed by the flight crew about the behaviour of VIP No. 1 - Mr Rudd - after the flight from Port Moresby to Canberra in late January.

Mr Rudd, who had attended the Pacific Islands Forum, probably in a suitably silly Hawaiian shirt was told by the 23-year-old flight attendant that his request for a "special" meal - he is on a meat-free diet - could not be met.

Sources said the PM reacted "strongly" and a heated exchange followed. The attendant burst into tears and reported the matter to the senior cabin attendant.

She later composed herself and continued with the in-flight service.

"The crew were distressed but later in-flight apologies were made by all," the report says.

But when he was asked about the incident at the conclusion of the G20 summit in the British capital today, Mr Rudd said he did not "observe" any tears over the matter.

"As I recall it, there was a flight, I think from Port Moresby, and I had a discussion with, I think, one of the attendants on the provision of food. It didn't last very long and if anyone was offended by that, including the attendant concerned, of course, I apologise," Mr Rudd said.

Mr Rudd said that as he recalled, he told a member of the crew not to worry about the language he had used

"As I said, if anyone took offence, of course, I apologise for it. Prime Ministers make mistakes, I'm sure I've made mistakes, (OMG a confession) that'd be one of them. If people have been offended, I apologise for it."

Suck it in Kev, suck it in . .you've become one of these rude patriarchal, patronising bastards that are usually reserved for the owners of small business and the captains of industry. (Does anyone know the male equivalent of 'mysogenist' I think I'm becoming one.)

Apparently, this is not the first unsavoury incident involving Mr Rudd and RAAF cabin crew. He's not a vegetarian, just trying to lose a few pounds by cutting out fat and red meat. Couldn't he just have eaten the veggies. It's a five hour flight with no baggage wait or customs search, I'm sure he isn't going to starve!

During a flight between Sydney and Canberra last June he became "extremely irritated" when the only food on offer was gourmet sandwiches, rather than a hot meal. Under normal circumstances the Boeing 737 VIP jet costs more than $28,000 an hour to run and the first-class service includes the best available food, wine, spirits and beer. The Port Moresby-Canberra flight would have cost taxpayers about $150,000. At that price he can take his own vegemite sandwiches!

The Defence Department said it was not appropriate to comment on the service provided by No. 34 Squadron on its aircraft.



Oh next time just spit in his chips or send him on Virgin Blue like the rest of us cheapskates! Jesus, even the Queen travelled Qantas during her last trip!

Ten Native Animules . . .

It's been a hectic and sleepless couple of days. Lily developed pancreitis after scoffing (I suspect) a load of left over chicken pieces and bones from Saturday's 21st, and exacerbated by my offering of Round Steak trims on Tuesday. So it's been a sleepless Wednesday night and two trips to the vet and $400 later, she's fasting, fine but not quite herself just yet and doomed to a diet of chicken and rice for a week or so. It is however requisite that she do a poo . . . so in a walk around the garden this evening and due to my inability to focus on anything overtly creative, I have not had a great deal of time to think about today's Theme Thursday which is "Ten" So here, in the spirit of all things Australian are ten things that are all pervasive in my garden, please try to visit the others because this is such a great theme and the responses so diverse

So for your viewing pleasure I present 10 great Australians.

Gum Trees - This is a Lemon Scented Gum which resides right outside my kitchen window. It was a six foot sapling when I built my house 20 years ago. It's now a 100 foot giant that drops it's leaves all year round and actually smells like lemons.

These are the 'alarms' of the gardens. Grey Miner birds, not to be confused by their noxious Indian cousins who are attempting to run them outta Dodge! They have a multitude of calls - protection, fear, aerial threat, ground threat and just damned annoying for the hell of it squawks.

Australian Magpies . .father and son . .he chased the youngling off last spring not long after I took this shot but the youngster was loathe to leave and hung around pathetically squeaking. I have three distinct families and the youngster has returned with a wife of his own and is inhabiting the bottom right corner of the front garden. Their song is a gorgeous loud 'chortle', melodic and discernable. They're known for being very territorial and aggressive but ours don't seem to feel too threatened so there's no need to put an ice cream tub on your head with eyes drawn on the back of it . . unlike the one down the road that is very interested in the Van Gogh effect and lopping off your ear!


The pretty boy of the back yard. A Rainbow Lorikeet succours sumptuous nectar from a native Robyn Gordon outside Adam's bedroom Window. Unlike their melodically beautiful plumage, they squawk. LOUD and in bunches. Very aggressive, chase off the more shy King Parrots (hence no photo here of the Royal Family) but man are they pretty . . .


Fruit bats . .I stole this rather well lit and I suspect photoshopped picture of a possibly stuffed fruit bat (maybe it's just a little tired). I haven't mastered the art of night photography without flash or light so have been unable to capture the squeaky brawlers who love, love, love the bamboo that runs along our northern fenceline. I rarely see them but they can be heard . . late . .at night . . just about bed time! You don't want to park your car underneath where they eat . .they have sticky poo!


Sulphur Crested Cockatoo . .much prized as cage birds these are NATIVE to Australia and found nowhere else in the world, a little known fact! They too are the pirates of the sky, hang around in bunches of 50 or more and are incredibly noisy in the early morning. Occasionally a tame escapee will be among the mob and sit on your shoulder . . .When they're startled, that little yellow peak becomes a multi pronged comb making them very handsome indeed . . .God must have a birdwash because they're immaculately white.

Bearded Dragon . . these are getting fewer and further between as suburbia encroaches so we were lucky to have several this summer. They freeze when a predator comes near and refuse to move so are wonderful photographic subjects. The Miner birds alert to their presence but they stay put. I was bitten by one once offering it a little piece of mince. You can pick them up but they're very, very prickly.



This beautiful boy lives under a gap in the concrete below the pool. He sheds every spring and looks spectacular. I know it's the same lizard because he has a bird wound on his tail where he was aggressively pecked by a magpie or a Kookaburra . . .had one in the shower once and Adam rescued it with a cylindrical post pack! They're big, slow and very amenable with a lovely blue tongue.
White Winged Chuff . . the 'bikers' of the back yard. They hang around in gangs of 12 or more, steal each other's babies in a sheltering wing display and turn over the garden like chickens. They're the size of a Bantam Hen with a peculiar whistling song and when they get cranky they pop those red eyes. Click on him and you'll see!

Brush Tailed Possum . . now these guys are just the ants pants. They're so pretty. They scrap now and then but if you catch them with a flashlight they freeze and you can have a really, really good look. If you're diligent enough they are tamable and are very partial to left over veggie peels and fruit . . if you're lucky . .you'll see mum with a baby in the pouch . . .

There . .I spared you Funnel Webs, Trapdoor Spiders, Redbacks, Huntsmen and Christmas Beetles . . . but be warned, there will be a post on 'ugly' Australians and it won't be for the squeemish.

Fools April and Otherwise

Wednesday's Carnival time!


The symbolism associated with the Fool card is an enthusiastic and passionate person, who is nonetheless a bit naive. The Fool card also carries a warning - not to go blindly into a situation without researching all the facts. The Fool card can show a need to exercise caution or it could indicate foolhardiness.

A Fool and Her Money are Soon Parted
Fools . . well I am one. I've had so many opportunities, so much luck, so much good fortune then shit came along and stole a lot of if away. I am a fool with my money. I've never had a lot of it but after Ray died, an insurance payout seemed like a lottery win. To me, it seemed like an endless cash cow but basically it paid for our debts, a new house, a short holiday, education for the younglings, supplemented a part time income so I could work until only 3pm each day until they were in high school . . and then . .well then . .it was gone. Not so much through carelessness but through lack of carefulness . . oh and the advent of provisional tax!

Even the wisest men make fools of themselves about women and even the most foolish women are wise about men.
I've made a total fool of myself with men. I was less than fabulous with the one fabulous man I had and didn't realise until I'd lost him. I have these incredible crushes that end badly . . the only one that looked like it might have gone somewhere since was with a man my young son hated and a rejected pass from the husband of an acquaintance - that was so completely off the cards!

Blind Old Fool
I have trusted the wrong people. Not many since I pride myself on having largely good judgement about the people I like . . but I have been suckered badly by some key people. I thought I was safe in my job when I was not and when an underling was promoted over me and I was made redundant I just didn't see it coming. I helped him, I coached him, I mentored him . .I taught him how to do my job. That happened in 1995 and was the most humiliating and shattering experience of my life because it was personal. My job was advertised, unknown to me and when I lobbed into work on Monday morning everyone wanted to know why I was leaving and why I'd said nothing . . .the HR manager had posted the 'redundant' position a week before I was told of my fate . .

Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak up and remove all doubt!
I was a bolshy and aggressive 20-30 something. I was the fat controller. I wanted things 'my way' and was rude and spoke frankly rather than gilding the lily or taking the gentler approach. This to some degree cost me a relationship with one of my brothers - mind he wasn't entirely free of fault but I wish I hadn't been so aggressive and I wish he'd been a little more patient . .in that instance we were both fools.

Nature makes only dumb animals, we owe the fools to society!
I fell into the 'mummy can I have a pony' trap and whilst my daughter matched me dollar for dollar long before she was of working age I bought two horses who are still eating me out of house and home, requiring manicures every six weeks and veterinary treatments. Yes I was foolish in not so much 'spoiling' my children but underestimating their ability to reach a goal.

No one but a fool would measure their satisfaction by what the world thinks of it
I care far too much about other people's opinion of me. Sometimes I won't go out because it's a bad hair day or because I feel shy or because I have nothing to wear that everyone hasn't seen before or I feel intimidated by the wealth and lifestyle of friends who live in a different world to me. . .yes I measure myself by what the world thinks of me. Less so as I age but I'm still not comfortable in my own skin.

Better a witty fool than a foolish wit!
Then again, I have entertained, caused laughter, delighted friends and children alike, fallen over at weddings . . When in doubt, make a fool of yourself. There is a microscopically thin line between being brilliantly creative and acting like the most gigantic idiot on earth. So what the hell, leap!

Only a fool expects to be happy all the time
In this respect I am truly foolish . . why can't we be happy all the time? Ah Utopian me! I'm such an idealistic fool.

I guess the ultimate irony is, that despite being such a fool, I don't suffer fools lightly!