Friday, March 22, 2024

UNIVERSE SWALLOWED ME

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Trent Dalton - HarperCollins Australia :HarperCollins Australia
Author Trent Dalton

 



 

Have we finally said, “Bye, bye, to Tay-Tay?” here in the Land of Oz?   Last year we had the Matildas shoved down our throats every which, and loose. And then, for weeks on end, with no swift relief we were inundated with Tay-Tay left, right, and centre.  I tried to shake it off, but it became more than I could bear after a cruel summer.   I kept telling myself, “you need to keep calm”, but it became more difficult day by day. With a few problems tossed in to upset my normally quiet existence, it felt like the universe had swallowed me. I needed to come up for air; for a glimpse of daylight.

I’m sounding like an old grouch, aren’t I?  I do have the perfect excuse.  I can’t deny it.  The wrinkles and grey hair give me away. Because the years don’t lie, I won’t attempt to do so. Every line has its own story to tell.  Half the time they won’t even share them with me.

On the other hand, Tay-Tay, despite the repetitive hype we were hit with, brought much joy to many.  In these bleak times filled with so much gloom and bad news, that is a good thing.

At present, I’m at a bit of a loss because I’ve lost some friends. They’ve gone their separate ways.  For the past few months, each day I watched one or two episodes of the series, “Friends”.  After watching the final episode it truly was like losing good mates.  Such a fun series it is/was.  One would think with all the streaming services available these days there would be more good shows worth watching.  Again, I guess I’m showing my cranky old age, but, to me, there appears to be so much rubbish around I won’t waste my time watching it. I’m sick of seeing characters in the different series with their heads buried in their various devices, sending and reading text that I certainly can’t read.  Talk, for goodness sake.  Give us dialogue, not words on a damn mobile/ cell phone screen!!

Over the past couple of months or so I’ve been doing a lot of reading.  I’ve lost my heart to Trent Dalton.  It’s his to keep. My admiration for Dalton, for his courage, for his bravery in disclosing much about his own troubled, disheveled childhood, troubles not of his choosing, in his semi-biographical; “Boy Swallows Universe” grew with each passing word I read.  When I thought my admiration for Trent Dalton had reached its limits, I read, “Lola in the Mirror”.  Dalton, in both stories, proved when the chips are down, you look life squarely in the eye, and even though it’s difficult, and in far too many instances life can be, one has to pick up the chips/pieces, and continue forth with determination in a valiant attempt not to be defeated.  In both books I laughed, and I cried, and I cried some more. 

Obviously being a glutton for punishment, yesterday I finished reading “Love Stories”, written by…yes, you guessed it…Trent Dalton.  Setting himself up on a street corner in Brisbane’s CBD in front of a fold-up table, a couple of chairs and a blue Olivetti typewriter, Dalton asked people as they passed by, and paused at his table, their stories of love, and what it meant to them.  It’s no Mills & Boon soppy sop, but the book is full of wonderful, emotion-filled, inspiring stories,

Trent truly is a writer of worth. His belief in himself is something we should all strive for…belief in our own self, knowing we can pick up those damned fallen chips if we don’t give up, but just keep trying. Dalton’s “Lola in the Mirror” highlights in vivid black and white the terrible, heartbreaking reality of the current plight suffered by many…far too many. A plight suffered by those who are living in tent communities and in cars throughout Brisbane, and elsewhere.  This is a disgraceful blight on our present day society. Sadly, nothing appears to be being done to rectify this extremely distressing situation.  It’s far from satisfactory….this is 2024…not the Dark Ages!

One’s own history and the history of every country in this world are real. History cannot, and should not be destroyed, erased, by anyone, or any group.  No one has the right to do so, even if they, in their own muddled confused brains think they have such right.  One day I will be history, but that won’t mean I wasn’t here!

I’ve been trying hard to maintain my sense of humour, even though the universe is trying its best to swallow me.  Eureka!  I can see a dim light at the end of the tunnel. Bit by bit I’m coming out ahead, albeit slowly.  

 And, slowly, bit by bit....I am going to catch up with all your blogs.  My apologies for being so tardy of late.

Vegie Chips: Combine 2tsp salt and 2tsp chopped fresh rosemary in bowl. Peel 1 med (approx 350g) kumara; cut into 2mm-thick slices. Do similar with 2 large carrots, 2 large beetroot, and 2 large parsnips. Pat all dry on paper towel; line baking dish with paper towel. Add enough light olive oil to large heavy-based saucepan to depth of 3cm. Heat oil to 180C. Add 1/8th of vegetables; cook, turning occasionally, 2-3mins, or until golden.  Using slotted spoon transfer to lined tray in heated oven. Repeat other 7 batches, adding to remaining vegetables, and reheating the oil between batches.  Place the chips on a serving platter; sprinkle with the rosemary salt; serve immediately.

Apple Chips: For oven: Preheat oven 200C. In large bowl, toss 2 thinly sliced apples with 2tsp sugar and 1/2tsp cinnamon. Place metal rack inside rimmed baking sheet. Lay slices on top of rack, not overlapping. Bake 2-3hrs, flipping apples halfway through until they are dried out, but still pliable (sounds a bit like me). They will continue to crisp while cooling. Air Dryer: In bowl toss apples as above. Working in batches, place slices in single layer in basket of air dryer (some overlap is okay). Bake at 350C about 12mins, flipping every 4mins. 

 

Monday, February 12, 2024

WHERE DO I BEGIN?

 




My apologies to you all…to my blogging mates for me being missing in non-action of late. I’ve not been spending much time on my computer.  To be honest, I’ve not been feeling 100%, but I’ll start picking up soon.  It’s just been shitty couple of months, one way and another.

 

First, I need to get something off my chest. I thought, or at least hoped, as I got older I would cease being surprised by the attitude and behaviour of some humans, but apparently it’s not to be.

A couple weeks ago I was talking with a fellow who doesn’t live up here on our mountain. He lives in a nearby area, and had come to do a job for me.  His blasé comments annoyed and angered the “you-know-what” out of me! He discounted the seriousness of the destruction, the devastation this area suffered on Christmas night, and the resultant distressing aftermath.  With a smirk, he pooh-hoohed the whole thing!  Why are some people cynical, seemingly heartless and smug?  His indifference to the hardships suffered by many, towards the ferocity of what we were hit with on Christmas night was inconsiderate, unfeeling, and wrong.  Biting my tongue, and as difficult as it was to do, I contained my anger caused by his ignorance; fuming alone and in silence. As if it wasn’t already more than hot enough without me boiling and adding more steam.

There’s always at least one idiot in a crowd.  It seems they are multiplying more rapidly than rabbits these days…no offense intended to rabbits. Some folk are adept at walking around with their head stuck up their jumper. No thongs necessary!  I’m not embarrassed to admit in some areas I’m old-fashioned.  I believe thongs should be worn on the feet, if worn at all. Having someone’s bum on full display in the public arena thrills me not.   (To non Aussie readers “thongs” are what some other countries call “flip-flops”.  Also the G-string bikini briefs…and I mean “briefs’ with just a string up their “you-know-what” is also called a “thong”).  Have some decency and dignity for God’s sake!

When I was much younger I wore bikinis…having purchased my first hot pink bikini when I was 16 year old.  As I said…”when I was much younger”.  Every weekend was spent at the beach, but my friends and I kept our dignity intact…and our bums!

On the flipside of human behavior, there are those who do care; those who do understand, even if they live many kilometres away.  For instance, a cousin, who is the same age as me, and I are in regular contact. We chat on the phone often, and we exchange emails.  Now retired, my cousin spent his working life as a highly-respected cop in north Queensland. He is a decent, caring, empathetic person, and one I’m proud to know. Even when going through the threat and aftermath of Cyclone Kirrily, he took the time to check on my welfare. 

And there I was, for more than a month after Christmas night, blushing, not flushing.  I built up muscles even Arnie would have been jealous of; there was no need for me to visit a gym.  Regularly throughout the days and nights I was lifting bucketfuls of water to flush my toilet as my cistern had gone on strike. Thanks to the Angels, who once again lived up to their name, I’m now flushing, not blushing.  My muscles have rapidly diminished in size. Arnie can relax.

Just right when I needed him, Just Rite Video Service’s Bruce came to my aid.  My old television was a victim of Christmas night’s chaos. My new Smart TV insisted on showing me it was far smarter than me.  How rude! Gradually, much to my delight and surprise, I was becoming familiar with its tricks, proving I’m not as dumb as I look. It thought I was getting too big for my boots, and therefore got its nose out of joint. The smartie pants Samsung decided to make things difficult for me. Luckily, Bruce came to my rescue, saving the day, and my sanity.

Previously, at times I’ve written that I’d “given myself kick up the butt (without falling over)”. Well, that’s not entirely true.  A couple of weeks ago, I didn’t give myself a kick up the butt, but my walking stick did slide out of control on the damp kitchen floor. Before I could steady the situation, down I went, face first, flat out, on my belly and chest, bum in the air. I admit my fall from grace was not gracefully executed.  I’m not sure who received the biggest shock, me or a friend who was visiting at the time.  Fortunately, the only thing that was bruised was my pride.  The fun things one does to amuse one’s self.  I don’t want it to become a habit, though.  Surprises like that one I really do not need. From now on, instead of trying to emulate Torvill and Dean, I choose to be a spectator from afar as I watch the Winter Olympic skating events. To be fair, my style and ability are unmatchable, which would make me impossible to beat.  However, I’ve retired now, and other skaters have nothing to worry about.  My skating, slip-sliding days are over…I hope….

 

Watermelon-Kiwifruit Ice Blocks: Peel and chop 400g watermelon; blitz in processor. Add 2tbls icing sugar; blitz again until combined. Divide watermelon mixture amongst 6 popsicle moulds; fill each to 2/3rd of the way up, leaving room for next layer; freeze for 2hrs. Once firm, peel and chop 3 kiwifruit; blitz in processor, along with 2tbs icing sugar. Pour kiwifruit mixture on top of partially frozen watermelon; put the popsicle sticks in. Freeze 6hrs or overnight. 

Strawberry-Banana Blocks:  Place 2c strawberry yoghurt, 1 mashed ripe banana and 1tbs honey in bowl; stir to combine. Pour into ice block mould and freeze. 

Fruity Ice Blocks: Place 410g can sliced peaches in light syrup and 425g can Golden Circle Crushed Pineapple, with juice, into processor, or blender; add zest of 1 orange; process until smooth.  Pour into ice block moulds. Freeze 6-8hrs.

Lemonade Ice Blocks: Add 3c hot water, 1c sugar and zest of 1 lemon to small pot. Bring to boil, stirring; simmer 5mins. Remove from heat; add 1/2c lemon juice; strain to remove zest and pips. Pour into moulds; freeze until solid.     

 


Friday, January 12, 2024

LOST IN A WORLD OF MAYHEM

 

 
 
 
 

And, this is what I’m trying to do at present…look at life from both sides.   It’s been a very difficult time, but, sadly for many others, it’s a much more difficult for them.  Too many suffered great losses, their homes, their possessions, and it will take years for them to recover.

I live very quietly and humbly in an equally small humble dwelling, which is actually a rather small shed that was converted into a cabin.  Nothing fancy, not a threat to Buckingham Palace.  Somehow this little, unassuming, shabby abode withstood the ferocious, unforgiving onslaught of Christmas night’s tornado.  Its four walls and roof still, intact, surround me.

I think all of us in this area a suffering PTSD to some degree from the “event”.  I know I am.  My anxiety levels are through the roof and beyond…my nerves are shot to pieces…to smithereens.  I jump at the smallest unexpected sound.  And that is not the “normal” me…whatever the “normal me” is or was.

Finally, power was restored.  Until it was there was no electricity, no refrigeration (I lost all contents of my fridge and freezer), no phone, no internet, and no water (which meant no flushing toilet, as well).  We here on the mountain are reliant on our own water supply/tanks, and septic.  No power to operate the pumps to the septic tanks and water outlets.  Such fun it has been!

My television blew up so I’ve had to purchase a new one that was delivered yesterday, Friday, 12th January.  It won’t be installed until Monday or Tuesday this week ahead.  I need and miss watching television.  I need to dull down my over-active, non-stop mind.  My mind is running out of control like an out of control kaleidoscope.  When I do eventually fall asleep, my dreams a vivid and active.

I never, ever thought I’d say this, but I’m sick of reading!!  So far since the horrendous event and its aftermath I’ve ploughed through six books, and am now on my seventh.  Other bits and pieces have added to my reading material, as well.  I love doing puzzles and buried my head in those, too, but I had to cut down on doing so.  I found when I tried to catch some very elusive, evasive sleep, when I closed my eyes all I could see were squares, letters and numbers.  My brain was constructing its own cryptic crosswords!!

I’ve been feeling like shit, but hopefully all that will pass soon, too,

Once communications were back on line, back in working order, I have been sincerely humble and overcome by the generosity of so many…of the goodwill and care shown.

Thank you, thank you, thank you…..Take very good care, each and every one of you.

 

 


Monday, December 04, 2023

THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS

 




As I have done for the past number of Christmases I'll be flying under the radar once again during the Holiday Season.  Gone are the days when I catered for the 'masses', whether privately or in restaurants/resorts...thank goodness!  Often I wonder how I did so!   Nowadays I seek a peaceful, relaxed Christmas, alone with me and me.

The last year or so that I lived in Cairns, I wanted a break from the hospitality industry, so I gained work in a real estate office in Smithfield, a northern beaches' area of Cairns. Therein, I was employed as receptionist, secretary, and property manager.

A couple of weeks prior to Christmas, tenants, a young family of five, came to me in search of cheaper accommodation. The 'thirty-something' father, an upright, gentle man who was, obviously, a hard worker and, who obviously cared dearly for his wife and young children, had run into a few difficulties on the work-front. I hated the thought of losing them as tenants as they took very good care of the rental property in which they lived, and they always paid their rent on time, if not a day or two earlier. They were a very nice young family.

I tried my utmost to find alternate housing for them, but I had nothing suitable on our books. The whole situation saddened me deeply. It was the week before Christmas. Their lives were being turned upside down and inside out. I was losing a lovely family, decent, good tenants. I felt for them. They were battlers trying vainly to do the right thing. They may not have had much, however the children were loved, always clean, well-mannered, dressed simply, but immaculately.

With cap in hand, the father came to me one day, saying he had found a house through another agent. Apologetic, he said he hated having to go to someone else but he could see no alternative. I understood. As hard as I tried to help him, it was out of my hands as I didn't have a property to suit his needs. Our mutual dismay and disappointment was clearly visible to anyone who may have witnessed the drama as it unfolded.

Feeling glum and defeated, I rang the owner of the rental property to inform him of the situation. I had never met the owner of the house face to face. He lived way out in Weipa, situated far up north on the west coast of Cape York, on the Gulf of Carpentaria. In detail, I explained what had been happening with the tenant and his property, leaving nothing out of my report to him. In silence he listened.

Finally, he said to me. "Lee...thank you for keeping me informed. Here's what I'd like to do. Has the family moved out yet?"

I answered, "No, but, they are in the midst of packing their possession etc., and will be moving out tomorrow."

"Okay," continued the owner of the property. "You ring him, or go around to see him, and offer him this. I hate to lose good tenants, and from what you have told me these are good, worthy people. I'm prepared to forego his rent for four weeks. And, I will not raise the rent in the foreseeable future...and that could be a far distant future. I would rather take care of worthy tenants than have a vacant property. That might help them out a bit."

When I found my voice, I thanked him profusely as we completed our conversation. Grabbing my car keys, without wasting a minute, I raced out of the office. As I drove up to the rental property, the father was in the process of loading up his vehicle. He looked surprised when he recognised it was me leaping out of the car. Breathlessly, I related the conversation I had had with the landlord. As I passed on the offer to the tenant, I couldn't stop smiling. I will always remember the look on the father's face.

Overcome with emotion, he reached out and hugged me. I returned the favour. Both of us had tears running down our cheeks.

Now, that's what I call a 'Christmas present'!

The family remained in the house and were still tenants when I left Cairns to live on Newry Island. I can't remember the name of the landlord, but what a generous, wonderful, empathetic man he was. I hope Karma treated him well.

Friday, November 24, 2023

HERE I GO AGAIN….REPEATING MYSELF!

 



                                       

 




This time of the year, every year, I’m in awe at the beauty that surrounds. I offer no apology for, once again, sounding like a broken record by describing the joy I always feel when I drive along to and from my local supermarket at this time of the year.  As is my choice, I’m not one to be out and about much.  Mostly, I prefer to stay at home, not only to my own delight, but, probably to that of everyone else, too.

At this time of each year the blooming jacaranda trees never cease to enlighten, and brighten my spirits when I do dare venture forth.  Like purple raindrops, the brilliant blossoms fall. Rich purple carpets enhance the roadsides and walkways.  All too soon jacaranda season comes to an end. Appreciating every possible moment during their brief, colourful performance, I give thanks to each and every one of the beautiful, blossoming tree I see.

Overcome by the intense splendor of jacarandas in full bloom, tears often well in my eyes (where else?).  Certain childhood memories enjoyed during jacaranda seasons flood my mind.  Playing on the swings, seesaw, and slippery slide in Gympie’s Memorial Park surrounded by the purple brilliance; playing “chasey” around the rotunda, the well-kept lawns and the rose-filled garden beds, were frequent, much enjoyed childish pleasures.

Julie Andrews made a boo-boo by incorrectly singing the lyrics, which actually are; “The hills are alive with the colour purple.”  This hill, also, is alive with the colour purple at present. For too brief a period each year, this beautiful area we’re fortunate to inhabit is covered in a purple haze.  Surrounded by the stunning lavender array, one may not be far off the mark in thinking jacarandas were the inspiration behind the music of Jimi Hendrix and Prince.

I guess, too, my ever-lasting love of jacarandas was one of the reasons, the “Singing Cowboy” aka Burl Ives’ version of “Lavender Blue (Dilly Dilly)” from the 1949 Walt Disney film, “So Dear to My Heart” was so dear to my heart when I was a kid.  You youngsters out there (that means anyone younger than me…which is just about everyone)…do a Google search on Ives.  He was a well-loved character of many shades.

In past years, life wasn’t always a bed of roses, nor was life a magic purple carpet ride, but it’s better for one’s equilibrium to preference joyful memories over upsetting ones.

A chilling moment, the memory of which never failed to make me laugh once I’d calmed down, occurred when my brother, Graham, our Nana, and I were sitting at the top of our front stairs late one afternoon,  The previous evening Graham had watched the 1960 Alfred Hitchcock horror movie, “Psycho”, which starred Anthony Perkins and Janet Leigh.  During Graham’s purposely dramatic, detailed, sombre, nail-biting relating of the movie’s storyline, engrossed, Nana and I soon became lost within the scary story.  Without prior warning, Graham bellowed loudly. His unexpected, loud outburst frightened the hell out of both Nana and me, causing us to almost fall down the stairs!  Having the reactions he’d aimed for by his Oscar-worthy performance, Graham laughed his head off.  Instead of an Oscar, I presented him with a thump on the arm!

I’ve many happy memories from past jacaranda seasons.  Nana was a Scorpio, as am I.  A couple of days separated our birthdays. When I was still quite young, I decided to surprise her by making her a birthday cake.  It was to be the first cake I’d ever made without adult guidance. The way it turned out, it was a miracle I ever made another.  With little forethought, I chose to make a sponge.  It would’ve been a far better plan to have purchased a bath sponge, smothered it in icing, and stuck a few candles on top!  My sponge was a disaster from go to whoa. I used too many eggs – our bantams were prolific producers that year - and not enough flour. My future catastrophe rose to the high heavens. To my dismay, once removed from the oven, it collapsed flatter than the flattest pancake, as did my confidence and mood. As time passed, through the ensuing years, that particular episode…my valiant, well-intended effort… also caused us much laughter.

 

Purple Grape Cake: Preheat oven 175C. Grease and flour 23cm round cake pan. In bowl, mix together 1-1/2c plain flour, 1-1/2tsp baking powder, and 1/2tsp salt. Set aside. In large mixing bowl, cream together 1/2c softened, unsalted butter and 1c sugar until light and fluffy. Add 2 large eggs, one at a time; beat well after each addition; stir in 1tsp vanilla. Gradually add flour mixture to butter mixture, alternating with 1/2c milk. Begin and end with the flour mixture, mixing until just combined. Gently fold in 2c fresh purple grapes. Pour batter into cake pan; smooth top. Bake 50-60mins, or until inserted toothpick comes out clean. Remove from oven; let cake cool in pan for 10mins; transfer to wire rack to cool completely.

Nana’s Easy Sponge (Obviously not the one I used): Preheat oven 160C. Grease and flour 20cm cake pan. In bowl, sift together 100g plain flour and 30g cornflour; set aside. In large bowl, add 4 room-temp eggs and 100g sugar; beat for 15mins; add 1/2tsp vanilla; beat another 2mins. Gently fold half sifted flour into beaten eggs; combine; then add remaining flour; gently fold until smooth and completely combined.  Pour into pan; bake 30-35mins. Cool in pan, 10mins; move to wire rack to cool completely.  Go wild…decorate to your heart’s delight!