Last day of our not autumn. Now on to winter. The cat and I just sat in front of the heater until the house warmed up for breakfast. It's very unusual for the cat not to bolt for the brekkie dish but he didn't move. The heater is set for 24 but this morning it was 6. Every creaking bone did it's best to break the pain barrier so I joined the cat in meditation.
We're in lockdown again so our Crime Minister has left to visit New Zealand leaving the Cabinet to stuff everything up again. All care home staff were first in line for vaccination but it only took one to infect this care home and probably another since once again they are having to work two jobs to make enough money to live. We've had another anti-vax protest on Melbourne streets which is confusing to me because it's not compulsary. I did hear through the shouting, the same old rubbish published on facebook, the exact words I've read too many times. How ridiculous to yell at a passerby, "It's a lie! Have you seen anyone with Covid?" No, because I don't go near a Covid ward and no, because I don't see dead people. No more on that or I'll have the drum beaters turning up here.
My life has become more complicated when it should be simple so cleaning up is something I'm going to ignore. The cat agrees with me but only as long as that doesn't include not opening his food cans.
Now this will not be my last word on this subject. RUBY PRINCESS, the plague ship that sailed into Sydney. Instead of people blaming everything and everybody, let's remember who let passengers off this ship with no quarantine.
I'm going back to the heater, I'm cold inside and out.
19 comments:
That is an absolutely beautiful vase. I firmly believe we need beauty - now more than ever.
Smirko and his cronies make me despair. And I am still in recovery mode (very wobbly recovery) after enduring one of the 'independent assessments' more than a week ago.
It is a beautiful vase. Humankind can do wonderful things, just not organise vaccinations.
I think the anti vaxxers know that while vaccinations won't be compulsory they will be disadvantaged, and rightly so for their lack of responsibility towards community.
That's a gorgeous vase, but it looks delicate so wouldn't survive at all in my home.
it may be the last day of autumn on the calendar, but I'm following my own internal calendar and calling June the last month of autumn. It's the only way I can accept the freezing September nights and mornings, telling myself it's still winter then.
I've finally got my first vax shot booked, I get it next week.
El Chi, I've heard that the 'independent assessments' are brutal. I would hate anyone but Doc Marvin to come anywhere near me and I don't have to explain my aches and pains to him. On Twitter I read about the poor man with leg amputations who was asks was his conditions ongoing.
Andrew, you're talking about humans but we are dealing with the Liberal party, an entirely different animal. Greedy, lying, incompetants who couldn't even keep toilet rolls on supermarket shelves. Just keep to the front of your mind, 'RUBY PRINCESS' because they want us to forget.
River, don't forget the flu shot either. Us with dodgy lungs need all the help possible.
I had my flu shot in late April.
we are all in a dozen different kinds of hell my dears.
never forget that Ruby effing Princess was full of religious fanatics on their way to a conference they paid in excess of $200 per ticket for. How Christian is that eh? and health minister Brad Hazzard assessed them as risk free then set 'em loose across Australia.
as if being cold & aching isn't enough.
I hope the person who created that pretty & delicate vase is in a better place than me right now. Joining you Coppy in the bionic woman category: Getting a new non-bone hip in 6 days. Sawing & hammering involved. that ought to be funny. love to youse all
Late to the party and to the discussion -- both my computer and I have been afflicted. The computer has been cleansed and my innards will soon be put in order. I count my medical team as blessed beings for continuing to show up despite the Covidiots.
Our local economy is raging back to life. Huge buildings in new industrial parks are under construction, roads are being rebuilt, housing estates are popping up, and employers are competing for the able young. Caregivers for both home and assisted living facilities remain in dire demand, as do kitchen and front-of-house personnel for real restaurants. I'm hearing from young friends that while wages ARE rising in these fields, so are the chances of being assaulted on the job by both the Variant and/or Covidiots. Ah, summer in the Midwest...
Like you, dear JahTeh, the cat and I are resting hors de combat (for us it's an air conditioner vent rather than a heater). Thank you for sharing the image of that exquisite vase. It's an antidote to the evening news feeds. I've discovered fresh flowers on my desk have a similar effect, and I now order them in with my groceries. Do give it a try -- send yourself roses. The cat may even enjoy nibbling on them. Makes a nice change.
Hi trendsetters. Yes it's me, poor RH; blog Copperwitch is an event that will never fade, a turn from a dark street into a blazing mall. A Santa Monica.
Words, laughter, people come and gone, blog copperwitch opened its doors and let us all in, let in bigot RH. Racist, homophobe. Yes I am.
Four degrees here, and rain. lockdown: perfect. An expanded landscape. You can go on the prowl, go where you like. I'm touring lanes, backstreets, old bricks, mortar, putting my hands on it, no one cares. The nabobs of Nth Fitzroy crave company, bustle, noise, macchiato!
Going crazy. Gyms closed, cafes closed, nought to do. And poor RH with all his scrags of yesteryear would have liked something cultured, but nabob scrags are out of reach; they charge too much.
Lockdown, empty streets, glorious! I love it. And you, compassionate you, loving-you, big woman, come back.
Happy Birthday darling & I send you warmth
Happy birthday big thing. I missed it but there will be plenty more.
good to see you too RH. keep your mask on.
The edge of big woman
Expanse of Soul
Blurred
Smudged
There is no edge.
A poet is never deterred. Toss what you like. Poetry is personal. Poetry is honesty. Poetry can get you killed.
There now, you have it all: the life and shenanigans of poor RH.
-Robert.
Fully vaccinated.
How rude of me not even to visit and see if I had any messages. In the new post under the writing you might see the depression trying to creep out but I've kept it at bay. I demand that all of you keep well, we'll need you for the next election to eject that foul object that calls itself a brilliant Prime Minister.
Good to see you Annie.
Robert you would be so great over on twitter, as @jah_teh is and of course
me too @AnnieBrownie4
Many of the old 2005 blogs crew are there slinging the same hash.
It's just made for you snide comments in 280 characters. #Caturday jokes
put @roweafr into the searchbox and see all his great vicious cartoons. #dogsoftwitter too. fun can be had
https://twitter.com/AnnieBrownie4
Good heavens!- my snide comments!
Dear Miss Brownie, A while ago I found one of your old blogs, about Ballarat. I was intrigued because i know the places you mentioned there, particularly the Mechanics Institute, and a little alley across the road, at the front of where you stood at the bus stop. And so, after standing there myself, I emailed Coperwitch to see how you were, and was relieved to find out you are still getting around.
I've heard of twitter. It's famous. I could go on there and say "Why are these lady footballers so ugly?" and cop a barrage. Having given what they want
I haven't the time.
There's always time to see what big woman is up to, and Miss Brownie
(if you were still blogging).
Blog Copperwitch, Highriser, Sills Bend, Miss Brownie, and probably others, were/are gems. I wouldn't have met these people in ordinary life, and I'm grateful.
More later...
Your blog was the first good one I discovered. Through you I found Copperwitch, and others. It was marvellous.
People are attracted to warmth, personality. Blogs fail when they lack it. They fail when they're just an act.
You are real. Copperwitch. Sills Bend. Highriser.
Time is cruel; Laura is divorced, her cat has died, and she's now an ash blonde. I did leave a few little comments there, but was uncertain of my welcome, and how long I could remain un-snide.
I could go to twitter, who knows, I'll take a look anyway.
But Whatever I do, wherever I go, to the blogs I've mentioned here, my only world is thanks.
Well, in my last sentence (non-custodial of course) I've typed 'world' instead of 'word'.
Sorry.
-Robert.
Pardon me, reading through all that I can't make much sense of it. I did it longhand on a seat in Coles. A checkout woman with a hen's-night hairdo had called me 'love'. It set me off. I brought it home and typed it verbatim. Say what you like, it is honest. Blogs I enjoyed most are where they hit the streets. Highriser is never home. Big woman is always home. But big woman has the streets in her glassware; her cat knows geography.
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