Monday, January 09, 2017

GroundHog Year

Black tipped sharks gathering near the Seychelles, it reminds me of our elected leaders returning to Canberrra with suitcases of lies and misdirections of their intentions of actually being an excellent Parliament this year.  I don't know why I bothered to write that when we all know it's complete bullshit although that shark second from right looks like our Pauline and the one sneaking in way over the back reminds me of Mal.

Already one has stuffed up with her travel allowances, good on ya, Susan.  Centrelink is like the Oroborus with its tail in its mouth going in circles. Barnaby refused to apologize for the mess and why would anyone let computers do anything after the Census debacle.

Mother still lives, still planning her 90th Birthday.  But my dear Eric the Mower died on Friday. The cancer spread rapidly after the diagnoses and sister has been helping his partner. They've been friends for years but being a nurse does not help when someone close is leaving. The Palliative care team won the praise of sister which doesn't happen often. 

One of my neighbours has visitors and they have brought their dog and by the barking, the thing must be the size of a wolfhound.  The IceBear was about to go out last night, had one little paw on the step when the thing woofed.  I thought I might have to give the boy CPR after he fell to the ground. We don't have dogs anywhere near us and I hope it's gone home.  The brave Bear shot under the coffee table until I had to take him out the front door and stay there until he'd done the rounds of the front yard, didn't bother with the back.  We all know he is a white cat but he'd managed to find the one spot in the garden where I'd put water for the camelia and in came the filthiest muddy mangy looking creature I've seen in  years.  While I was wetting a towell to clean him up, he disappeared so I thought he'd be under the coffee table.  No no no, in the great tradition of cats, he was rolling on my doona, my brand new white doona, the one with splashy colourful flowers interspersed with black paw prints and circles of dirt.  I was not in the mood at near midnight to be changing a king size doona so I went to bed and so did he, right in front of the fan blowing over him instead of me.  

Christmas presents still aren't wrapped.  Dear people, you will get them at some stage, honest.

Monday, December 26, 2016

Four Generations

Great Great Grandmother, great grandmother, mother, granddaughter and little Clio the fairy child.

Anorexics will be fainting at this photo but all girls should be told over and over again, it's not the body that counts, it's strength of will, the fight in the heart and these four have the strength to move mountains and I hope we have passed it down to Miss Clio.

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

Coppy is feeling unwell, bruised, battered and slightly dizzy.

I expected to begin blogging again this week but instead I'm counting bruises. 
I was dragging a heavy bag across the carpet, very carefully, a half metre at a time, moving feet well back when I completely lost the rhythm.  Boy when I lose balance I really lose it, tried to stay up and might have not hurt myself as much if I had fallen on the small box sitting on the big box but a spindly legged what not got in the way.  Fell this way and that, almost had to extract a pottery rabbit from an unusual place  but he just had his head taken off.

Crawled to phone for nephew who shot round but  the way I used to get up is non-functioning.  I would roll onto knees (that really hurt) and use feet to push me up to a chair or couch. No, left foot doesn't do feel very well and right foot does feel far too much and both slip at the same time.

Call the Ambos again, explain there's a beached whale  needing a lift. I hate doing this in case there is an emergency but the operator says I would just move down the priority line. That made me feel better.  The Ambos thought it was hilarious that I'm on the floor with broken backside and my entertainment is watching the ice skating and I would hate to hit the ice the way they do.  So out comes the pump up cushion and five minutes later I'm on my feet.  I may or may not inform Doc Marvin of the 170 blood pressure.

Today the bruises have  come to life to give sparkle to the pain and I had to go out.  Wrap gifts for mother to give, taxi to Home, taxi to hair dresser, taxi home and I'm as dizzy as all get out. Forgot breakfast and pills.  Note on the calendar says Mercury Retrograde.  Good, I'm staying in bed until Friday when the cat is out of kibble and I'm out of pills and not a chocolate for the day.  But I did find my Christmas reading books.  Memo to self, do not hide things at my age.

I have found and lost Christmas cards.  Everybody's presents are in a line to be wrapped but there's no time to post them.  You'll love your Christmas in January goodies. River sent mince tarts, very tasty and medicinal for falls.  Elephant's Child has not lost her cake making abilities, yes I know I promised to not eat until Christmas day, I lied.

I know it's been a while since I blogged but what are all these new thingies on the header.  I know I'm posting as Jah Teh, I've been posting as her since 2005 and now I can put a funny face somewhere, no it's 'insert special characters' none of which I understand.  I wish that Windows 10 could understand that I am too old to change from XP and I want it back.  You've got enough zillions to support the few non-experts who don't like change.

Some kind person email me on Thursday night to remind me I must buy chocolates on Friday.  Just in case dementors turn up unexpectedly.

Monday, November 21, 2016

I'll have to wash the blog now.

It's been rumoured that Melania Trump will not move into the White House but stay at home to look after Barron.  She wants him to remain at his exclusive expensive school where, presumably his exclusively rich friends will not stuff his head down the expensive toilets because they don't like Daddy President.

So while I am reading this tear jerking mother and son problem, my eye kept wandering over to the photograph of father and son.  It reminded me of some other photograph or couple or film and then the bell chimed and clanged my brain into reality.  Us Potterites still have not forgotten the 'fingernails down the blackboard' scene from Deathly Hallows Part two where Voldemorte tries to be human by hugging a horrified Draco.  Now look at the father and son photo again, it's there as plain as day.  Barron is as far apart as he can be while being held by two hands, he knows Voldemorte has returned.

Friday, November 04, 2016

Almost ten years to catch up.

Friday, December 14, 2007


Back in September 2006 I blogged about salmon farming and how the fish were given chemicals to achieve the level of colour that they got naturally by eating krill and wondered how long before it was realized it was cheaper to feed them the krill.

It wasn't long. Antarctic krill is already being overharvested to feed farmed salmon. Krill are tiny shrimp like creatures and are the staple diet of polar marine animals including penguins and whales. The krill are already under threat with the loss of the sea ice and parts of the ice shelf which forms the krill nursery.

The US National Enviromental Trust says fishing-industry figures indicate that a catch of 746,000 tonnes will be made n the coming season, 25 per cent above the quota set by the Commission for the Conservation of Antarctic Marine Living Resources.

The krill eat phytoplankton, everything else eats krill or the creatures that feed on krill. It's all about balancing the environmental ecosystems that exist in polar waters. I'm all for stopping whale hunts but we also have to take a good look at the smaller picture. 

Well anyone who watched the ABC programme this week will now know about the chemical they give Salmon for it's nice pink colour so we will pay a fortune for it.  Also the other stuff they feed the salmon instead of free ranging for food.
I'm all for Aquaculture but feeding great fish to Tuna so that it can be sold to some snobby Japanese or Australian restaurant for more money than I could rake up is right there with the salmon.
If the salmon don't get the krill or the chemical, the flesh would not be the bright jewell like colour everyone adores but just an ordinary fishy grey. I think it's nuts to find fish to feed other fish so we get to feed the profits.  Fish is a treat for me, I love it but not salmon, too rich and not raw tuna so I'm no fish snob.  Throw me a Barramundi like sardines to penguins and I would catch it without hesitation.

A gourmet meal for me is fish and chips from Queenscliffe, which has the best shop on the Bay. Find a nice corner on the sand, out of the wind, watch the waves and if one does want to put on airs, two paper napkins instead of one.