I’d forgotten how interesting gathering the news is. And how the oddest things lead to another item. Take the poem on page 7 for example. I guess I had to be naïve to imagine that our troops weren’t used as guinea pigs. It changes my perspective of the virgin beaches of the north somewhat.
This spring has given us some early storms. By my reckoning they are about a month early. Along with the storms we seem to have a wider variety of bird life this season. A bower bird has taken up lodgings in our fiddlewood. His repertoire entertains me and confuses the poor dog. I figure the bird is tempted by a blue glass bead welded in the wind-chimes near where he camps.
Hawks are prolific too. They hover and swoop over me as I take Bandit for his run. Both of us are a bit big for them so I guess it is just curiosity or the thermals which they come for. My speed on the road is legendary.
We have a new neighbour behind us. Where, I believe, the Bank and manual Telephone Exchange used to be. Mrs Clark wasn’t home the day I called to say, “Hello” and I haven’t been able to get back again. That brings our population back up to 19. Wow.
Alice Folkart has written another piece. I hope you enjoy her exploring? This story reminds me of discovering our ghost when we first arrived here. I still hear him occasionally, but it is not the same as when he used to turn on our television between 4 and 5 am. That happened until we finally unplugged the television before we went to bed.
Christmas season is on us again. Mad shopping and shipping ahead, even with the economy the way it is. I plan to be early this year, no leaving things to the last minute. I’ve learned my lesson. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas break and next year will be all you can wish for. Frances.
Small Town Syndrome?
Our small township's divided,
We aren't speaking again!
They feel they are God's chosen -
what's that say for Them?
We stir pots in the kitchen
huddle in a gossip's conclave,
dream of a life without Them,
isolation makes them act brave.
Burdens are layered upon Them,
slandered by whispered word
so, ignorant of misdemeanor,
no disclaimer is heard.
Festering grudges and hatred
is how all wars begin.
Feuding fuels fragile egos -
there's no way We or Them win.
Frances Mackay (c) 19-7-08
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