from the archives

Um; was. actually, looking up something else - but one link led to another ... and found this ..
(from another blog of mine - apparently 'in hibernation' but seems to remain accessible ... meh.)
Tis also linked to a 'youTube' video .. but not sure whether the links remain intact in this 'copy 'n' paste'.

Ah, ye good olde dayes - when i had finance and access to the 'latest' most powerful 'laptop' computers (meh). At present, probably, the latest 'iPhone' or 'iPad' has more 'computing power' than my present 6 year old MSI laptop.
It is still struggling to compile and edit the 1080i HD video of the trip to Kangaroo Island ... but never fear, will make it work, somehow.

An alternative FACTS .. version of "reality TV".

    -----------------------------------------------------------------------

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Barra Fishing Trip. Ord River, North-western Australia.

(PS. This post is still under construction .. heh. Am finding that embedding a video screen in the post is a little more complicated than first thought. Might have to separate video screen from blog. Or just put a link to it. Dunno yet. )

Well now. Have completed a six minute version of the day's fishing at Macka's Barra camp on the Ord River and uploaded it to Revver.
The other post and 4 minute remix on YouTube is here.

There are several video hosting sites, and a review of ten of them can be found here.

I chose Revver as they put a “clickable” Ad at the end. This is all very “experimental” at the moment, and am still discovering the trials and tribulations.

I feel that the camera work is only so-so, but had only recently purchased the Sony TRV355E, and had much trouble with wind-noise in the in-built microphone. Would really have liked to have spent several days there. It's difficult trying to film an “expedition” while taking part in it; so missed quite a few good photo ops of some of the action. Will have to keep the clips fairly short, as this one took nearly an hour and a half to 'upload' on to Revver, and even with Broadband, takes some time to “buffer down” before you can view it.

THE TRIP.

Had gone up to Kununurra in May 2004 for another event and, due to some cock-ups with arrangements, found that I had a spare day. Well, it seemed silly to travel all the way up to the Kimberley Region in North-western Australia and not have a crack at the mighty Barramundi.

Scientific Name: Lates calcarifer

Barramundi are protoandrous hermaphrodites: they start life as males, reaching maturity at around 3 to 4 years of age and later change gender and become females, usually at around age 5. Small fish are almost exclusively male with the percentage of females increasing with overall length.

Distribution
Distribution map of Barramundi

L.calcarifer has a very extensive range in tropical and semi-tropical areas of the Indo-Pacific. Its distribution extends from the Persian Gulf to southern China and southwards to the northern Australia. Within Australia its range extends from the Mary and Maroochy River systems in south-east Queensland northwards around the entire northern coast to Shark Bay in Western Australia.

I was very fortunate to get on this particular trip, as it was pretty much a last minute decision.
So, with the Barra dream of every Australian worth his salt in mind, went to the Tourist Office on the Monday and made enquiries. They gave me several brochures, but no advice.

Umm, think I, then made tracks for the nearest Pub. Y' know how it goes .. "G'day, who's the best Barra guide in town? Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit..". After about six conversations, many beers and much differing advice - counted up the votes, and found that Macka's Barra Camp came out 4:2.

Macka's Barra Camp has become an institution when it comes to big barra in the Kimberley. In fact, one of Macka's specialties is catching the extra big, meter plus Barramundi. Even experienced Barramundi anglers can go a lifetime without cracking the magic meter long mark, yet at Macca's many such anglers have achieved this goal in one trip.

One of the strengths of Macka and his team of guides is that they ensure no effort is spared to see that you have a most exciting days fishing.

Macka picks you up at Kununurra, and soon after you are fishing aboard his 6 meter long craft which is specially designed for barra fishing, and includes all first class tackle and associated gear.

As the name suggests, Maccas Barra Camp it is not only day trips, you can stay overnight and extend your trip for several days or more.

For more information call 08 9169 1759 or check out his website
Macka's Barra camp

O.K... rang the number, found that there was one spot available the next day (Tuesday), and booked a spot on a day trip.
So, was duly picked up from Kununurra backpackers at 6.00am by Macka in a rather battered Toyota Troupie containing three other 'hopefuls'.

It is always a risk, taking a trip into the 'unknown'. They could have been hoons from the 90's, buuut, found myself in company with three similar age nutcases. Merv; life of the party, always with a comment, quip, quote or joke. Brian; quiet, reserved. Michael, likewise.

The bitumen disappeared about halfway into the hour and a half trip, through a gate, then bumped and tossed our way to the "camp".

One of the interesting things about some buildings in the 'Top end' is their relative impermanence. There are two seasons .. the "wet", and the "dry". The "dry" lasts for about nine months, and the "wet" IS. While cyclones are not all that frequent, they happen, so the general attitude is "why build anything permanent, when most likely will have to build it again next year".
So, we arrived at the camp, and were introduced to Andy, 'guide:boat driver:cook:mechanic:expert in pretty well everything.'
(there are always 'dream' jobs, somewhere.. and as Cher says, ".. if I could turn back time”.)
A fast zoom down the Ord river until Andy decided that it was 'bait time', pulled up at a quiet spot about halfway between the camp and the River mouth, and set off with his cast net.
Barra will take anything, but generally prefer live bait. These are called 'popeye' mullet.
Another fast zoom down toward the estuary, where Andy decided on a 'likely' spot. We moored, were instructed in the intricacies of 'bait casting' with this particular reel. (I had been used to a Penn 500, and these, while similar, seemed tinsy and tricksy).

After several trial casts resulting in over-runs, patiently sorted out by Andy, we settled down to anticipation.

Ten minutes later, there was a quiet pull on my line, and watched it travel out into the centre of the stream. Huh?? think I. Then the penny dropped, I flipped on the drag and hauled back on the rod.
Barra are fighting fish. It breached, thrashed its head from side to side, determined to rid itself of this annoyance. It dived, swam toward the boat and away, breached again. At all times one must keep tension on the line; at all times, anticipate .. let it run .. pull it back.
Unfortunately the person who picked up the camera to record this event left it on “full zoom” so there isn't a lot to see of the tussle except a lot of out-of-focus muddy water. Have tried to edit in some of the more recognisable images while keeping the relevant sound track.

After twenty minutes, it was close enough to have a net underneath, and lifted onboard.
It was a mighty tussle, and at the end of it I was shaking like a leaf in an autumn wind. This fish was 1.1 metres in length, and a female, so was required to return it to the water.

It was, in retrospect, an anti climax. I landed it at about 9am, and then caught another smaller Barra some 20 minutes later. You will see in the video that Brian “hooked” another fish, but Barra have a habit of “throwing” hooks, and he lost it. Try as he might, Andy could not find another fish. Mine were only two fish landed that day. From 9am until dusk we searched, tried several spots. Proving once again that wild fish are .. well .. wild. there are no guarantees in nature.

I think I was lucky (though prefer to think of it a superior skill heh heh). The other three were probably envious as well, but didn't let on.

Since the expense of getting up that way was considerable, I don't think that I'll be doing a "repeat" any time soon... but it's nice to have this photo on the wall.

Posted by Dav-vid at 2:42 pm

"Riverbend" is still alive

Oh, just had to post this. Easy to miss, since the link to "Bagdad Burning" on the sidebar hadn't 'updated' itself.

.. isms

Had been pondering  "..isms" for a while .. racism, capitalism, terrorism, socialism, feminism  .. birthism  etc.(contributionism?) - but hadn't really clarified it into some sort of shortish comment. Still haven't, but this shortish video sums up a few things .. and is a foundation for further thought.

capitalism;
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7Fzm1hEiDQ&feature=player_embedded
which sort of looks at 'terrorism'.

Hang about, this post will be edited and sort of refined(?) - or not. Felt the need to post it now (thanks for link, Link)

essential Kipling

Um, yer, I know - "random snippets".

Was reading Guambat Stew and there's a post about Afghanistan. Was tempted to make the comment that 'USA is not the first "Imperial" power to get lost up the Khyber in that part of the planet' .. but that may have been a bit obscure. That then tempted me to search further and find the origins of the rhyming slang.

Didn't get all that far but found this.

the good oil

Um, wonder if I could pipe some of that into my little heater .. heh.

.. and there ARE quite a lot of people who want to try this sort of thing in the Alaskan Arctic wilderness.

{insert; Sunday 16 May} Am not making any comment about veracity, but there's some interesting info at Twelfth Bough.

Dear Mystery Reader

Have had the intention of writing this post for some time – the reason will become apparent later – but some other thoughts have prompted it forward. One, of course, is that have been devouring¹ quite a few paperback novels of late; but that isn't the only reason, and intend to write some “reviews” at some future date.

[ ¹ metaphorically speaking, since actually “eating” them might prove problematical and somewhat unpalatable – but given the fact that the auto-transmission on the motor vehicle has decided to “cease to function” - or rather, the two top gears (drive and overdrive) have ceased to function – leaving me with 1^st, 2^nd and reverse. Can still potter from A to B in relative comfort and no great strain on legs – but only at 40-45 kph. Will be an interesting exercise in fiscal restraint while I figure out how to save (or acquire) enough finance to get it fixed; and may well involve boiled paper for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.]

The other prompt was a visit to David G's “Dangerous Creation” where he laments a “diminishing readership”. While on the one hand I applaud the lofty and altruistic ideal of trying to save the world from foolishness, folly and misery, one blog at a time – somehow have a sneaking suspicion that that might be a tad unrealistic. While yes, folly and misery are still common and widespread – methinks that the prime reason (or one of them, at least) for people to “come together” in passionate discourse has now diminished and dissipated. BushCo and Howard have been defeated.

There is no longer any central, singular foe for the disparate tribes to focus on, or congregate against. Wordswords have been sheathed, and the armies of outcry have apparently dribbled back to gossip among themselves at the parish pump.

This blog has never been particularly concerned with “readership numbers”. Was only begun with one reader in mind (good heavens – in January 2005) and even then, on the assumption that the likelihood of that was remote.

Can even remember being somewhat startled – after I'd eventually discovered Statcounter – to find that “someone else” was actually reading it. Mostly, in the early days, from Goggle search; but found that after I'd made comments on other blogs, there was a gradual increase in readership. Have also found that most “commenters” tend to prefer some sort of follow-up response, otherwise they don't bother (either that, or my posts leave them speechless .. heh).

Have very few readers, these days, and even fewer comments; though that is probably due to the long gaps between posts, but was much easier for me to provoke lively debate in the comments box when I had 24/7 access to electricity and internet.

I will, at this point, thank my few regular readers, you are precious .. heh. There's several from Sydney and some from Melbourne and Victoria; some from NSW (though only one with a Mac OS 10 .. heh); a couple from Brisbane; one from Kapunda - and one from Buckinghamshire. (can't link names to the actual ISP's, but know most of the probable names).

I do, of course, still regularly check Statcounter, and am still fascinated by how some “strangers” arrive on the blog. Mostly through the various search engines, but have to say that none of that is overly exciting – mostly people wondering what wombats eat, or something equally dreary.

There is, however, one visitor that continues to intrigue and mystify me. Statcounter frequently gives the message “multiple visits over more than one day”, and has done so over some length of time. Now, I perhaps know quite a few people who live in Adelaide, but can't seem to put a name to this one.

Your browser is MSIE 7.0; the operating system is Windows XP.

Screen resolution is 1024x768.

It looks like your Service provider is adl6.internode.on.net.

Dear mystery reader, c'mon don't be shy. Do I know you, or blog – or you me? Leave a cryptic, anonymous comment if you like – or email me at the address in the profile.

rights and righting

Er, did have 2 or 3 thousand words, but they're captured with biro ink and still stuck on a cheapish pad of paper. Might let them languish there for a day or two. Even biro ink matures over time .. heh.

Have been reading the Weekend Australian (hey, fer AU$2.40 [inc gst] How cheap can one get? Nah, wunna the better wastes of woodchips.

Have also been having a sqizz at some other blogs (hi Guambat), and one of his posts refers to "Headlines" .. or rather 'the writing of..' I love 'em. The subbies really have to think very hard to come up with the more "clever" ones.

The one that am still chortling over is
POONA REMAINS HUMAN
on the front page of the local "Country Times". ?? think I, who the hell is Poona? Was she human in the first place, did she go through some terrible trial, and keep her dignity?

Turns out that some human bones were discovered in a dam near the township of Poona.

Or this one "Kangaroo shot with crossbow on the mend". Ok, not a word about the poor crossbow. Did it recover??

Or this one "Pass out the porcine puns" - which is sort of self explanatory.

The title to this post, actually, belongs to a rather magnificent 1000 word essay by Phillip Adams, in the WE Oz Magazine this week. Gah! how much can one say in 1000 words? [damn, can't find it in a link - will try to find it]
UPDATE - Phillip Adams article "Migration history in black and white" [Thanks Neil]

we all gotta go

one day this year, next year, sometime ..
I did not live a life as rich as this one --

Old Hoss‏ RIP

From:	Caroline)
Sent:	Monday, 23 March 2009 6:01:01 PM
To:	David H. (jaxpax99@hotmail.com)

Lowell Gene Maudlin

Born Oct. 1 and 2, 1930

Died March 7, 2009

Gene died today utilizing Oregon’s Death with Dignity plan. He was tuckered out from trying to breathe. His Scamp was with him at Hospice Hopewell House.

Lowell Gene Maudlin died too soon for me but I’m glad he’s resting and breathing easy with his Big Ernie. I met Gene the summer after we each began blo**ing in Spring of 2005. He was still in the home for Old Folks then, with his wife, Betty. Betty subsequently died of Progressive Supranuclear Palsy, choosing to use Oregon’s Death with Dignity program. Sad but not beat, Gene, always resourceful, reconnected via his blog, with his Scamp (Sylvia)- previous wife and mother of his children. She was the angel of Gene’s final 3 years, letting bygones be bygones and falling in love anew with an amazingly smart, funny, and loving rapscallion of a man.

Found here.

He made me laugh. He did.

And yes .. he also made me laugh .. when i had time and resource to listen.
--

Losing my head

Which, by the way, is quite different from losing my mind.

But there is much evidence to indicate that for some, death is not instantaneous, which probably offers a truly surreal experience for those few, brief moments. It goes without saying that there are no first-hand accounts to shed further light on the subject.

The quote is taken from here, a damn interesting website .. on the other might be quite mad.

Something else that have found during this 24 hour trawl .. have, actually, also been battling with the mechanisms of local video and animation, with very little success - but this one caught my fancy (funnybone, understanding, hollow laugh - whatever)

Food Fights .. heh, heh ..

5 minutes 30 secs.
or for those with difficult connections, try here.
Do try to see it through to the closing credits.

Where there's a will ..

.. there's a way. (and yes, Beth, another cliché quote.)

Umm, just after writing the title to this post, it suddenly occurred to my grasshopper mind that it may also have resonances of a “will” - one of those “after death” documents that list dispensations to relatives.

Nah, (Though that may also be at the back of my mind).

Was referring mainly to “I will” - determination to overcome obstacles. Income has been reduced to a relative pittance, so will not be forking out the $30.00 for seven day WiFi access, conveniently provided by the caravan park.

However, have just discovered that the local library ALSO has WiFi access. So, have signed up, on, whatever .. can also sit out the front in my car. Not quite as convenient as sitting half pissed in the van at 2.30am .. but “what the hell” .. “beggars can't be choosers” (damn you, Beth; one of these days will come up with something “original” .. heh.)

But everything is relative to something else. Relationships abound. Very little in a “modern” lifetime is new, or “original”. We live our lives relating to “tribal” groupings – some more “tight-knit” than others.

Everything written has been writ before. “Music” began when australopithecus discovered simple vocal harmony as distinct from individual shrieks of rage or warnings of danger .. and has continued, more or less unchanged, in “religious” chants. Tribal stuff.

O yes, over time, we have discovered more “technicalities”. Technology. Once we were covered by fur, then interbreeding and then, as planet climate altered and changed, as it has done, and always will, became warmer, or colder – think “eternal”, not “Bible” - we moved onto the savannahs, became bi-pedal. Stood on two legs. Built rough temporary shelter from local weather, slung or sewed skins to cover our naked flesh. Remarkably adaptable, is Homo sapiens.

Discovered that the thigh-bone of a skeleton - or the jaw-bone of an ass - made equally effective weapons.

So .. what's new?

wish i'd said this

.. but ain't that hyperactive, nor skilful.
George Carlin. May 12 1937 - June 22 2008.


Thankyou Marclord (who has the words transcribed, for those with dubious internettly connections.)

looking forward, backwards

1968?

This is a time of shame and sorrow. It is not a day for politics. I have saved this one opportunity, my only event of today, to speak briefly to you about the mindless menace of violence in America which again stains our land and every one of our lives.

It is not the concern of any one race. The victims of the violence are black and white, rich and poor, young and old, famous and unknown. They are, most important of all, human beings whom other human beings loved and needed. No one - no matter where he lives or what he does - can be certain who will suffer from some senseless act of bloodshed. And yet it goes on and on and on in this country of ours.

Why? What has violence ever accomplished? What has it ever created? No martyr's cause has ever been stilled by an assassin's bullet.

No wrongs have ever been righted by riots and civil disorders. A sniper is only a coward, not a hero; and an uncontrolled, uncontrollable mob is only the voice of madness, not the voice of reason.

Whenever any American's life is taken by another American unnecessarily - whether it is done in the name of the law or in the defiance of the law, by one man or a gang, in cold blood or in passion, in an attack of violence or in response to violence - whenever we tear at the fabric of the life which another man has painfully and clumsily woven for himself and his children, the whole nation is degraded.

"Among free men," said Abraham Lincoln, "there can be no successful appeal from the ballot to the bullet; and those who take such appeal are sure to lose their cause and pay the costs."

Yet we seemingly tolerate a rising level of violence that ignores our common humanity and our claims to civilization alike. We calmly accept newspaper reports of civilian slaughter in far-off lands. We glorify killing on movie and television screens and call it entertainment. We make it easy for men of all shades of sanity to acquire whatever weapons and ammunition they desire.

Too often we honor swagger and bluster and wielders of force; too often we excuse those who are willing to build their own lives on the shattered dreams of others. Some Americans who preach non-violence abroad fail to practice it here at home. Some who accuse others of inciting riots have by their own conduct invited them.

Some look for scapegoats, others look for conspiracies, but this much is clear: violence breeds violence, repression brings retaliation, and only a cleansing of our whole society can remove this sickness from our soul.

For there is another kind of violence, slower but just as deadly destructive as the shot or the bomb in the night. This is the violence of institutions; indifference and inaction and slow decay. This is the violence that afflicts the poor, that poisons relations between men because their skin has different colors. This is the slow destruction of a child by hunger, and schools without books and homes without heat in the winter.

This is the breaking of a man's spirit by denying him the chance to stand as a father and as a man among other men. And this too afflicts us all.

I have not come here to propose a set of specific remedies nor is there a single set. For a broad and adequate outline we know what must be done. When you teach a man to hate and fear his brother, when you teach that he is a lesser man because of his color or his beliefs or the policies he pursues, when you teach that those who differ from you threaten your freedom or your job or your family, then you also learn to confront others not as fellow citizens but as enemies, to be met not with cooperation but with conquest; to be subjugated and mastered.

We learn, at the last, to look at our brothers as aliens, men with whom we share a city, but not a community; men bound to us in common dwelling, but not in common effort. We learn to share only a common fear, only a common desire to retreat from each other, only a common impulse to meet disagreement with force. For all this, there are no final answers.

Yet we know what we must do. It is to achieve true justice among our fellow citizens. The question is not what programs we should seek to enact. The question is whether we can find in our own midst and in our own hearts that leadership of humane purpose that will recognize the terrible truths of our existence.

We must admit the vanity of our false distinctions among men and learn to find our own advancement in the search for the advancement of others. We must admit in ourselves that our own children's future cannot be built on the misfortunes of others. We must recognize that this short life can neither be ennobled or enriched by hatred or revenge.

Our lives on this planet are too short and the work to be done too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in our land. Of course we cannot vanquish it with a program, nor with a resolution.

But we can perhaps remember, if only for a time, that those who live with us are our brothers, that they share with us the same short moment of life; that they seek, as do we, nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and in happiness, winning what satisfaction and fulfillment they can.

Surely, this bond of common faith, this bond of common goal, can begin to teach us something. Surely, we can learn, at least, to look at those around us as fellow men, and surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and to become in our own hearts brothers and countrymen once again.

(on the mindlessness of violence)

Spoken by John F. Kennedy in 1968. Found in a post by Beth, Living a Quotable life.

Spare Time

oh .. oops. See what happens when have a spare day with internet connection. Waste it by peering at everyone else's blogs.

Caroline is under clouds.
Marclord is in Oahu.
Anne will have to limp to the polling booth.
Willowtree is pissed off with .. most things, apparently.
Copperwitch is into the dumps.
Vincent is still thinking.
Redcap is out of Africa.. well, go here first, then click the top bit, start there, then scroll back .. or down. Sheesh, there has to be a language created for these sort of directions. Perhaps am becoming an old fossil .. don't misunderstand, Redcap may well portray herself as a "half hearted hack" but, in my opinion, is anything but.
Ninglun always has an interesting essay (or 2 or 3 or 4, if one has time to read).

That's pretty much a list of my "regular" reads.
Gerry has gone quietish.
.. and Road to Surfdom is an on again/off again read. Mostly political, but the blue bit takes you to an apposite post .. heh.

and yer, there are more (apologies to those not listed - you know who you are), but sporadic and intermittent WiFi internet connection is making things difficult ..

Update; Wednesday:- after several discussions with the Park Manager and - i might add, at my own expense - a couple of phone calls to the WiFi zone provider - we seem to have solved most of the "dropout" problems. So, hopefully, will remain continuously connected for as long as have paid for the connection. They did offer a refund, but have yet to see it. Tried the big download again this morning when hoped that the connection had settled down, but nup .. only 56% before collapse. Am in negotiation for alternative methods of "capture".

Further update;Friday 20th:- The Park manager had kindly offered to let me use his modem to see if i could get hold of the download file, so at 8.30pm Weds night took the laptop over to the office and plugged it directly into the modem.

Set up the download .. and we were somewhat surprised to see that the download speed was only 10-15 Kb/second, and would take 9-10 hours. So, left if running overnight .. but went back at 8.30am next morning to find that the download had collapsed again, only 35%. May well have had something to do with the "sleep" settings - or something. All very mystifying. Won't give up though.

diff'rent folks, diff'rent strokes

Dunno the actual background to this pic, obviously from a Chinese newspaper - but found it in a beautiful post on Tumbleweed in Space (formerly Tumbleweed in Timor lorosae).

CHENGDU, China - A Chinese policewoman is contributing to the country’s massive earthquake relief effort in a very personal way -- by breastfeeding eight babies. A newspaper in Chengdu, the capital of quake-hit Sichuan province, devoted a special page to the 29-year-old woman, calling her a “hero.” The woman from the quake-ravaged town of Jiangyou has just had a child herself, the Western Urban Daily said. She is nursing the children of three women who were left homeless by the quake and are too traumatised to give milk, as well as five orphans, the report said. The babies who lost their parents have been put in an orphanage which does not have powdered milk, it said. An estimated 50,000 people were killed in the May 12 earthquake, China’s worst natural disaster in a generation.
- Sapa-AFP.

Can't imagine the local constabulary attempting anything similar, anytime soon. There was a big brouhaha here some time back when a Pollie tried breastfeeding one of her own, in Parliament.

Life's a beach

Had been over trying to catch up with some more of the winsome, lyrical, beautifully exquisite writings from Vincent at "A wayfarer's notes" and this recent paragraph caught my eye.

The underlying concept of the Costa Del Sol---which had turned fishing villages into a continuous urbanizacione extending from Malaga to Gibraltar, with high-rise apartments everywhere in the idiom of traditional pueblos---was surely the beach, or at least the glimpse of that blue Mediterranean viewed on the horizon. Yet the beach itself was a nothingness: mud-coloured sand, no one swimming, rows of sun-beds with straw parasols. If I’d have known, I’d have suggested an inland vacation, perhaps in Granada. It was hard to find any unspoilt nature.

[but also recommend this post]

(Warning, behind the thumbnails, some of these pics are quite large)


and so - while not exactly the "blue" of the Mediterranean, since the season is approaching winter, and the day was cloudy and overcast - just thought to post some pics of Aldinga beach, one of the 'suburbs'; about a 30 minute drive from the Adelaide CBD.

And no, there are no massive "high-rise" pueblos just out of sight; with weighty hob-nail foundations overpowering the cliff-tops [yet] - but there is the embryonic beginning of the end, sprouting at Glenelg.




I am, indeed, fortunate to be able to live in Australia where this sort of thing is freely available and close at hand. Indeed, just round the headlands in the background is Maslin's - a legally recognised "nudist" beach since 1975.

Run silent, run deep

All is very quiet, here in casa caravan since the problem with Greta Garbo next door (I vant to be left alooone).

Can't quite remember the exact sequence and details, but methinks the last straw was couple of Friday nights ago. Had been missing my chats with S, somehow ended up at the lower end of a cask of Port. Wandered next door to say hello .. again. Can't remember the exact conversation, this time, but happily went to bed at about 1am, toddled off to work at 5.30am on the Saturday, came home at 4.30pm.

Greta was standing at the corner of his annexe, arms akimbo, looking like Thor had just hit his thumbnail with the hammer. Half a dozen Valkeries hovering over his stocky shoulders.

"Oh", say I, all innocent, "What's up?"

"You!" he thunders. "Don't want to talk to you, don't want you near me!" With that, he turns and disappears into his annexe. Would have been a rather impressive and dramatic exit - if he was wearing a swirl from a dark wool, red lined, hooded cape.

Things went a bit quiet after that. Went off to work on Sunday and Monday. Was at the Laundry on the Tuesday waiting for the machine to do its thing when noticed the Park Manager wandering up and down the roadway talking on his mobile phone. Wanted to speak to him, so made sure that he saw me, then hung about until he'd finished. He eventually completed whatever conversation he was on, then came across.

"Gidday," say I, "has grumbleguts from the van next to me said anything yet?"
"Yep," says he, and was given a severe "talking to". He doesn't like you bothering him, your music - and Inebriation is a big No-No.

So, am still here .. but it's all socks and sneak time in the van. Not a sound shall emerge until I can figure out how to get out of here. And yes, of the quiet and stilly night; can hear every creak, sniff and snuffle from next door so don't blame him, really - even though I DID try to keep every sound down to a dull roar. Can't quite think what the music was that caused the upset. Mostly play Bach, Brahms and Mozart .. but it might have been the Rachmaninov.

Am running silent .. but that, in a way, is a bonus. Everything, now, is on Sony headphones and have discovered that I much prefer the full, rich bass and trebles of the digital TV instead of the tiny, tinpot speakers built in to the set .. heh.

Which reminds me. Have just found this

which seems vaguely appropriate.

[and yes, Hughes, will give much credit, though there's no point in coming at me with a cricket bat - used to be a wicket-keeper before those prissy helmets; skull of pre-stressed concrete .. heh. If the reader has yet to discover Scrag Ends, please go and have a squizz.]

Lines on a map

Have just been having a squizz at (newish?) blog, and this post - Dangers of Denim - caught my eye. Hmmm, didn't know about all that stuff, or rather, hadn't thought much about it.

There is a fair amount of controversy about Cubby Station (Queensland cotton farm. There are "fors and againsts" .. gurgle it for more info).
[hmmmm, wonder if we can get the "New" Prime Minister to move into more progressive Parliamentary policy - get them to convince Cubby Station to grow lovely, waving, green fields of Hemp??]

South Australia is at the bottom end of the Murray-Darling sewerRiver System, and as such - very rarely see much of the water that ends up in it, and the poor "Water Minister" has her work cut out trying to battle negotiate with the "upstream" States (Queensland, New South Wales, Victoria).

(perspective pic from post, back here Murray-Darling basin in light green.)

Apart from having to close several of our "cross river" ferries due to the fact that the "ferry landing" is now several feet away across dry mud (not to worry, we're planning on building bitumen roads across the riverbed .. sometime soon .. heh.) - one of the Rivermouth Lakes (Lake Albert) is in deep trouble and almost dry. [am not even going to mention the Coorong "wet"?lands].

So, if anyone from the floods in Queensland has a philanthropic streak, and a watertanker .. please send us a couple of truckloads .. would be much appreciated.

Won't be long before the "Murray-Darling" system will be reduced to "lines on a map", and perhaps cartographers of the future will be able to use much less ink.

Women in uniform oops, Politics

[note; have tried to attribute the pics, but sometimes difficult to find the original source, given the copy/re-copy nature of the web.]

Gee willikins, there are a whole heap of "official" websites that need to be "updated" as yet, have done the best i could with this "line-up". Does anyone still think that Australia hasn't suddenly made some "progressive" steps forward .. whoo hoo!

Rudd has appointed a record four women to his 20-strong cabinet, with three more in the outer ministry and three as parliamentary secretaries. That's 10 women in key leadership roles compared with six in the Howard government at the time of its demise.
(from The Age)

Julia Gillard
Deputy Prime Minister, and highest ranking female in Australia.

( from The West via Hoyden - magnificent pic,would love to know who the photographer is.)

Penny Wong.
Minister for Climate Change and Water.


Kate Ellis.
Minister for Youth and Sport.

(pic from Wikipedia)

Justine Elliot.
Minister for Ageing. (unfortunate title, perhaps)

(pic from aph website.)

Maxine McKew.
New Member for Bennelong.

(from ABC News)

There is, of course, also

Julie Bishop.
Deputy Leader of the Opposition.

(pic from homepage.)

But wait ..There's more ..


Northern Territory Parliament.
Marion Rose Scrymgour. MLA.

Delia Lawrie MLA.

The party's over

Sorry folks, but it seems that Kevin - and Wayne Swan - have inherited an economy on the verge of collapse (NOT their fault!!)

Forget all the bullshit from the "you never had it so good" Master of Illusion - the dumped "Wizard" of Oz. The writing has been on the wall for several years, and am not surprised that "the best treasurer ever" chooses, now, to hide among the backbench.

Can't, at this point, come up with all the links, facts, figures, graphs and details to support those statements, but was reminded of it by a recent quick squizz at Guambat Stew who seems to have a greater grasp of politics and interrelated economies than most of the "local" pundits and Mudrake Media.

Funny, really. Have read somewhere that the Australian electorate are far ahead of the local politicos. Have a tendency to vote for the "Libs" when times are good - profligate and profitable .. but switch to the National "Labor" party when they sense that the times are about to get very tough indeed.

We'll see .. we'll see.

Scribbling on paper

Have just been for another look at Ampersand Duck (via Copperwitch, but that's a long story) ..

Umm. Real people playing with real letterpress, and drawings on real paper .. fascinating .. does it still happen? .. heh.

have always said .. to understand real people - stand naked on their doorstep. (.a concept that GwBush, John Winston Howard and the unlamented Tony Bliar seem to have forgotten -- well, if "intelligence" fails - stand back into pretentious Pontifical Pilate and send in the army .. heh ).

Where was I ? .. oh yes .. scribbling on paper.

Tried it once. sent 12 or so scribbles on bits of paper off to a highly respected critic .. and received them back with one of the nicest "rejection" slips ..

Won't reproduce it it full but apparently they were too "gentle" and "whimsical" to be considered "cartoons". Nothing like being "damned" by faint praise .. heh.

I thought that was nice, but life moves on. Haven't done any more, but know a good cartoon when I see it, which is why I keep "republishing" the ones by David Pope(Hinze). (everybody sees Bill Leak, another brilliant "scribbler").

(there were some "Sunday Scribbles" some time back .. wonder where the impetus went?)
9 8 7 .. etc ..)