Griffith Visit.

G'Day,
Today I went for a dawdle around the arts precinct here in Canberra. My husband Pete was working night duty and needed to sleep so I stayed out of the house.
This is some of what I discovered to share here in my blog.
O.K. the first pic above is of a superb fairy wren. I love these little guys, they are so tiny and delicate and are quite common around this area. The one in the pic is a male in his breeding colors, you might need to enlarge the pic to view him better (click on the pic). I have had quite a few tries at photographing them before but with my cameras in the past I have been unable to get close enough or take the picture quick enough before they flitted away. He was in the gardens outside the National Gallery.
The next pic is of a sculpture that is outside the front of the National Library of Australia. It has the sounds of reeds in the wind and water playing, and is by an aboriginal lady,an artist, whose name escapes me just at this moment.
These are also in the area between The National Gallery and The National Library of Australia. The area is known as Reconciliation Place. An area dedicated to reconciliation of the Aboriginal people of Australia and displays some indigenous artwork and stories of their journey since white settlement of this country. A sad and horrible story as is the story of many indigenous cultures worldwide. This sculpture is of a male and female yam. A staple food . It is by an indigenous artist named Thancoupie, also known as Gloria Fletcher. I have written about her before in here. She is a special favorite of mine and a ceramic artist whose work I love.

The pic above is at the front of the National Library of Australia and shows a wider view of the sculpture in the earlier photo. The front bit where you can see the water ripples is really cool. It sprays a foggy mist onto the air, the ripples are made from metal of some sort.
I went into the library to have a look at the treasure's gallery. I had worked in there during the renovations, cleaning, that were finished last November and wanted to see what it looked like finished and fitted. I looked around at everything and thought, Haha. I have been inside that display case, I polished that glass, I swept, washed and polished that parquetry.
There is a major exhibition in one part of the gallery there at the moment. It runs until March 2012.
"Handwritten , Ten centuries of manuscript treasures from Berlin."
There were hand written manuscripts by Erasmus, Bach, Galileo, Napoleon, Newton, Mozart, Curie, Goethe, Dickens, Einstein, Machiavelli, Nightingale, Beethoven, Dante, Luther, Darwin and Michelangelo. Amazing stuff. Though the galleries were a bit crowded to look at many of them. My favorite thing there were the old books. Perfectly hand written and beautifully decorated manuscripts from the days long before printing presses were invented. The oldest book that I saw was made in the 600's A.D. Amazing!
And yes! Hahaha, I copied that off the post card otherwise I wouldn't have remembered the details to share with you.
This is a view of the stone artworks and area in the center of Reconciliation Place. The building at the side that you can see is the Portrait Gallery. It is a fairly new place less than 2 yrs old (from memory) I had my lunch in there today.
Closer looks at the rock sculptures from the above picture in reconciliation place.


This is a passage way that leads to the edge of Lake Burley Griffin that defines the center of the city. It shows the war memorial at the other end of the passage way, across the other side of the lake. Also through this passage are flags along the edge of the lake from all countries around the world. I thought it looked good the way it all lined up.
These are some of words carved into the other side of the rock sculptures in the pics above. I liked the wise words. They were quotes re; reconciliation.
This one is a little harder to read but well worth the effort. You may be able to see it better enlarged.
I parked my baby car in the area at the east of the National Gallery and walked through the sculpture garden there. I hadn't noticed this particular piece before today. Strangely fascinating isn't it? The restaurant overlooks this lake.

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The rest of the photos were taken on the trip I took a few days ago to visit my cousins and Aunties and Uncle in Griffith, Ne South Wales. It was a 5 hour drive each way and I got home yesterday evening.

I visited the Griffith cemetery. My grandfather Joseph Trenerry was the only undertaker in town for many years. So he is directly responsible for much of the stonework and burials in Griffith. My uncles, Bill and Wally continued the business and it was then passed on to my Uncle Bill's daughter, Carol and her husband, who still operate the business today.

Justin Potter was my cousin Ruth's son. He died of leukemia, a cruel disease he fought for many years....... too young.
Oh O.K. so these are out of order now. I didn't post them that way.
Oh Well!
This is another of the sculptured stones in Reconciliation Place Canberra.
Sorry about that folks. Lol.
The plaque above is my Uncle Joe. He was my Mum's eldest brother. He died from pancreatic cancer. He was a father of 2, a small business owner and wind instrument player in the family band. How do you sum up a person's life into such a few words. Of course you can't.
These people were my maternal grand mother's parents. They died before I was born. They immigrated from Scotland and settled first in South Australia where my grandmother was born in Mt Gambier, later moved on to Broken Hill, then settled in Griffith N.S.W. They were very thrifty people (scots) and short of stature. Miner's I think, in those early years.
John and Jane Trenerry were my maternal great grandparents. Jane's maiden name as Pearson. they were English and Welsh as far as I know. Both gone before I was born.
Essie and Joseph Trennery are my mother's parents.I picked the posy from my Aunty Joan Hearn's garden. My grandmother Esther had the same christian name as my Mother. She was mother to 6 children and one adopted, though related son. She was a child prodigy and played piano concerts in the Opera house at Broken Hill when she was very very young. She was also a music teacher and played the piano at the local picture theatre in the days of silent movies in Griffith. She had a family band named the Gloom chasers, I think they had another name at one time and were called the rhythm aces. They traveled around the riverina area. My Uncle Joe played the trombone. My grandfather Joe played sousaphone, my uncle Wally played drums, my Mum sang. Can't remember what all the others did but they were all involved. My Grandfather was an undertaker. He owned a gypsum mine, he built cob and co coaches, he was a stone mason, head of the masonic lodge of Australia for quite a few years. Worked as a farmer, I think he worked as a plumber as well , quite the jack of all trades. I remember when I was tiny he would always tell me that he used to suck his fingers, (like I did) when he was a little boy and they fell right off. He had lost three of his fingers while he was up trying to repair a windmill and the cogs turned suddenly and cut them off, he only had his thumb and index finger left as a result. He did everything so well with that hand it amazed me as a child, he was known to pick a bone clean with a knife and fork and never use his fingers to do it, hahaha.
This is the plaque on my Uncle Jim's grave. I had a lot to do with him growing up. When my own father was away working, my sister and I used to call him Daddy Jim. He was a gentle giant with a sense of humor. A truckie and farm worker, most of his working life and father of my cousins, whom I visited. he died from pancreatic cancer also. Love you guys.
So today and my Griffith visit are strongly linked by my thoughts of family and it's continuity. My aboriginal heritage, no matter how small, tied in there as well.
I wrote this after my walk around today.

.................................

I am a miniscule part of a long story
So I try to seek knowledge
To link fragments of my country's history
To myself
And I find parts that I identify
Though my words are too different
And you lose interest
I am lost
in my own history.

.........................................................

I know that I could elaborate further here. Time ties my hands as does lack of skill in my writing. My story would run off on too many different tangents to be well done.
Bye
Love Linda.

Merry Christmas 2011

G'Day,
As you can see from the date on my last post my blogging has dwindled somewhat this year. I do try but face book and it's voyeurism seems to take up my spare time.
I will get back to my blog periodically.
Anyhow!
I had a lovely Christmas this year. My Hubby Pete had holidays that ran across the silly season this year. It is the first year after many others that we have both been off work over christmas together. One or the other of us (though usually Peter) has had to work for many of them. He returns to work on the 1st of January, I on the 10th. I can't remember having a break that long for a looooooong time.
I was vacillating on how to spend the day but had a few welcome invites that we all were able to follow up on. I got to see all of my children and spend precious time with them, as well as see all my Hearn cousins and some of their grown children and grand children. Magic.
For the evening meal we went to my husband's niece's house. Then after that we went to my daughter's boyfriend's house and spent time there with her much loved adopted Nan , her partner's Nan. Most entertaining.
Peter and I stayed in a motel for 2 nights and came home to the boxing day sales for a few bargains. I bought underwear and sleep ware. It was pretty good price wise, even though all the clothing I buy is always on sale, hehehe.
On Christmas morning the streets of my old home town seemed so strangely deserted. You could have shot a cannon along the main street and not hit a soul. Boxing day was the same. Hardly any traffic at all, in the morning when I saw it anyway. The photo above is of an ancient tree that is on the bank of the Murrumbidgee river at Wiradjiri reserve in Wagga. I have had pics and stories of this spot in my blog quite a few times. I think last time the pictures I posted were during the drought and the old river was very narrow and shallow. It was lovely to see one of my favourite places green and full of life giving water again. I have always loved those majestic big old river red gums that grow down there. If you look closely at that photo, I am standing at the bottom of the tree to show just how big it is. I am a bit over 5ft & 3 inches tall.
Now THAT is a tree!
I was also interested to see that the local council has at last started to develop the reserve and have tarred part of the road into there, and are in the process of building a boat ramp. It is about time.
I guess if I was to say that some of the things I prayed for during the year; for my kids to be happy and have love, for water and rain, for my marriage to survive another year, have been answered. There were some rough patches.
So......Here is to another year. Another year with it's ups and downs , twists and turns to go through, with lots of love and laughter, work to keep our hands busy, um what else?
A year of enough.

Publish Post

That's all Folks!
Love Linda.

Sunday Scribblings "Life is Good"

G'Day,
This weeks Sunday Scribblings prompt this weeks asks us to write on the subject"Life is Good"
I am sitting at the traffic lights at the intersection of Yamba drive and Hindmarsh drive. It has taken me three light changes to get to here and I am enjoying spending my waiting time doing some people watching in the traffic on my way to work.
The people in the car beside me are enjoying their wait too. Their car is on my left and half a car length in front of me. The neck of the lady driver is all I can see of her, and her hands. She is nicely proportioned and her soft brown hair is drawn up tightly into a pony tail as she bops her head talking animatedly to her pasenger. They are laughing. She is driving a green Holden commodore, about ten years old, a strong sensible, reliable car. I guess they are in their late twenties. She is telling him a story and using her hands to accentuate the tale, holding them to show the size and shape of something, and waving her hands about in her description, they are happy and their life is good.
On the right hand side of me is a man in his early forties. His hair is cut short and he is thin and pale. I think he has that office worker look about him, but he is not dressed for the office today. His car, a white Mitsubishi magna, needs a wash. He is intent on the lights changing and he is sitting with his hands tightly clenched on the steering wheel. I can see the cords in his hands and knuckles as he grips the wheel. He is impassive in his facial expression but I imagine as he clenches his fists that he is going through his "to do" list and wondering how he can get it all done this afternoon so his day off work is productive, as his time is so precious.
The car behind me is an aging brown Mazda two seater. The lady inside it is probably in her 60's. She has dark brown hair which is perfectly groomed, never a hair out of place and if I touched it it would crackle from all the hair product it contains. Her make up is the same as her hair, perfect and she is wearing red lipstick. I imagine her working in a fashion boutique, she is probably the owner. This is a very attractive woman, one which is confident in her looks and ability. Her face is 1/4 covered by her large sunnies and she looks content to wait and enjoy her music as she sings along happily, she has noticed me watching her in my mirror and smiles back at me. Yes her life is good.
In the far left lane is a man in a Volvo. I watched behind me as he swapped lanes forcing his way across from the right hand side of the road, weaving through traffic until finding himself poll position to turn left towards the hospital. He is stressed, in a hurry. Tapping his fingers impatiently as he waits for the next change of the lights so he can be off and away around the corner.
Then there is the girl waiting behind him in that lane. She is driving a shiny red baby car, a Toyota I think. I bet she is on her way to work too and she turns the corner and then left again into the hospital car park. Then jumps out with her tea packed neatly into a plastic lunch box and runs across Yamba drive for the shift change and nursing handover. She likes her job, and her life is good.
My life is good. Like anyone's. Weathering the storms, riding the crests and troughs of the waves and keeping my head above water.
Bye.
Love Linda.

Sunday Scribblings" Omen and Operation".

G'day,
I didn't manage a post last Sunday but today I would like to combine that last prompt word with this weeks prompt.
I have been thinking about a friend of mine, an old work mate. I will share her with you.
For the purposes of my blog post we will call her Elaine.
Elaine has been on my mind because ...well, she is a long time friend of mine. I have known her for probably 15 years or more. Our children went to school together, and we worked together for many years as well. We still see eachother sometimes for coffee or lunch, though not as often as we would like, and I keep in touch with her on face book, so the miles between us are shortened that way.
She is a pretty lady and is only about 5 ft tall , but her size belies her strength.
I have seen her go through many trials. She lost her first husband to cancer. During those terrible end days of his illness she went beyond me, to a place inside herself that only someone who had gone through such trauma has had to go. Out of my reach she was switched off to many of us in her outside of the moment world. Yet in the following months I saw her not understand the people who judged her and her actions in that grief. Which was not a help to someone who was supposed to have been their friends. They didn't have the flexibility to see that each of us may react differently to that situation.
Several years later I had the privilege of seeing her rediscover love, a new husband who absolutely adores her and had a new child. Yeaaaay all cheer for Elaine!
This was all happening to her with the time of life stresses that bringing up teenagers can bring as well as several nasty other health scares with her daughter, youngest son, and a very recent one of her own to deal with. Is this a strong little lady or not?
Elaine is an inspiration to me.
A few years after her new marriage she became a small business owner and is now doing well for herself. She is sometimes challenged by the pressures of making a business work but keeps progressing through it with fresh new ideas. I am so proud of her.
Some of my favorite memories with Elaine are when we spent time together in my pottery shed and she wanted to make something out of clay.
Another memory with her was when her new husband had bought a little canary yellow corvette to renovate and play with. The day they picked it up she came around to my house and took me lapping the main street in the little car, so funny, especially so as the main street in the town where I was living consisted of probably a dozen shops or less and a couple of pubs, hahaha.
But....my very favorite memory of Elaine and one which always makes me laugh is....
In that small town where we lived you meet many people who have different personalities.
One woman in particular had a not so good marriage.(I wonder why?) Her favorite thing to do was try to flirt with other people's husbands, hopefully, in front of their wives. Well! This woman decided she liked the look of Elaine's first husband at a function one night and decided to try her games out on him, in front of Elaine. Oh I do love this story LOL. Which resulted in Elaine going over to the woman in question and smacking her fair in the face. Hahaha. My little tiny 5 ft tall Elaine sat her on her backside in front of everyone for her trouble. Needless to say the shocked look on her face and resultant sympathy from her friends was most amusing too. The same vixen lady, who shall remain nameless has some sort of weird need to try to upset other women with her games, is that a power game on her part, I don't know. She did the same to me.
But herein lies the two prompt words I am writing about.
Omen; don't mess with Elaine or you may find out you need an operation. Lol.
Love You Elaine.
Bye
Love Linda May.

Sunday Scribblings, "My Back Yard".

G'Day,
Sunday Scribblings prompt asks us to write about our Back yard. I often do, as you know.

Symbiosis.
The earth made up of particles,
broken down
from it's own plants and animals
over millenia,
there for eternity.
A true wonder.
Nourishing all before
and after itself.
My whole world
My Backyard.
********

Short and sweet.
I hope so anyway.
Bye.
Love Linda.

Sunday Scribblings "The Call".

G'Day,
Sunday Scribblings prompt asks us to write about "The Call".
Ok.
The call we all have to accept sooner or later.
I got the call late at night. It was after I had gone to bed and I was awoken by my husband who called me to the phone where I accepted "The Call" and was passed on to my Mum who gave me the news. Mary the lady at the hostel was sitting up with her and giving her support.
I made the appropriate phone calls, some then that night and a few more the next day. My sister was hard to track down because she was away from her home. She went to Sydney the next day to carry out arrangements etc.
I wasn't there.
I was stunned, though I knew that it was inevitable. I didn't go back to bed that night I sat up in the lounge room. Inevitable for us all sooner or later.
He had been receiving treatment in Sydney, radiation therapy, on a nasty lesion that had kept reoccurring on his poor chin. Good old Aussie sunshine had left it's mark on another victim.
I had seen him just a few weeks earlier and sat with him in the hospital. Spent a week there at the hostel nearby the hospital.
He couldn't shave his chin and it was really bothering him that he was untidy. I tried to very carefully trim some of the whiskers away from the lesion but it was too painful and he didn't trust me not to bump him there. He had become attached to a young nurse there and he wanted her to trim around there instead and I thought" oh well that's OK", she has his trust and she has more experience too. The heart attack came a few days later due to the effects of morphine used for pain relief.
We spent time together in the common room there, after noon tea and sessions with the other patients designed to share laughter and therefore relief from their respective situations. I told a joke and he watched the other patients faces as I spoke then grinned with pride when they all laughed at the punch line. Hahaha. Well I guess the other jokes were a bit tame compared to the one I told.
He said to me there, "How am I ever going to get your mother to stop talking?" and I said to him "If she hasn't stopped now she never will, that is just her". And he liked that too. He never said so, he wasn't very verbal, but the acknowledgement showed in his face.
On the last day I went to say goodbye. I was sorry to go but I was eager to get on the road and back to my children waiting for me at home 5 hours away from the city.
The doors were security doors and they closed and locked and you had to ring a buzzer to get back in. I said my goodbyes and he hugged me and went to kiss me but I drew away because the lesion on his poor chin smelt terrible and was weepy and I didn't want to get it on my face. I felt so bad about that. You can't imagine the guilt I felt afterwards. I went out the door and I knew right there and then that it was the last time I would see him. I turned around and started to go back for another hug and to kiss him, but the door had shut. He had turned away and headed back inside.
And I knew.
Mum looked at me and said "What is wrong?"
I couldn't tell her.
I put my head down and we went to the car.
I just wanted to get home to my children.
But I knew.
It is funny but, I knew when I saw his brothers and his sister, my dear Aunty Marion, in the same way, that it would be the last time I saw them.
My Dad has been gone for eleven years now. He didn't quite see the new millennium in. He died just short of a week after my birthday on 26th November 1999.


Good Night .
Love Linda.

Sunday Scribblings "Present"

G'Day,
The sunday scribblings prompt site has presented us with the word present.
So the biggest present of all.

For my present
I present to you
The biggest present of all.
She will feed you,
and care for you,
and you must feed her,
and love her,
and care for her in return.
I present to you
Earth, our mother.

That's all.
The ultimate present we all have.
Bye for this week.
Love Linda.