Quick wave

I feel as though I need a Granny Weatherwax note ...

I woke up in time for two minutes' silence this morning, but having spent several days trying to find a poppy seller, was still poppy-less by the end of the day. Oh Sydney, why so little on the poppy front?

I'm one of those anti-war, pro-armed services people. Having travelled through several war zones in my time I strongly believe that war is almost never worth the cost to a society and that other political solutions are almost always preferable (not always – what else was Europe meant to do against Hitler?) But those who serve in the armed forces are usually motivated by an admirable sense of duty in my countries, and have most often done sterling service in peace-time crises. Their sacrifices should be highlighted in the public discourse, if for no other reason than to remind politicians that their actions can and will waste real and valued lives, and so they should be cautious and not gung-ho. Having grown up listening to those who served in both World Wars, they emphasised strongly that they fought so no one would have to again. Ninety-seven years after the war to end all wars began, we're still fighting. And at the moment it's because politicians over the last 30 years have all acted like economists in pretending that the future is unimportant. In a perfect world, all the politicians who trot out to lay wreaths today would be forced to run all decisions to go to war past foot soldiers and their families.

Anyway, other news. We were out walking at 2am the other morning because I unexpectedly have no work on for the next couple of months and it was 26 degrees Celcius still (MADNESS!), so a walk seemed sensible. I could hear the curling song of currawongs (one of the many big mad Australian birds that looks like a magpie or crow), which is a daytime sound, so I looked around until I found them. (Video of currawong song, not the same ones!)


Up on a wire were two, making a lot of noise and flapping their wings
aggressively. Between them was a tawny frogmouth, loudly clacking its
beak in a bid to scare them off (it sounds like a single clap of a castanet, startlingly loud for a bird that is less than a foot from top to end of tail). We guessed that the currawongs had chicks nearby and thought the frogmouth was after them. Since it eats only insects, they were panicking over nothing. We clapped our hands and tried to send the currawongs off, but they would only go a little distance away, and the frogmouth wasn't moving. Since they were scared of the frogmouth, we decided it was unlikely to be hurt and continued on our way, bemused by the wildlife in the city moment.

I still have not taken photos of the new bike, due to being too busy chasing down freelance work, tidying the house for our lovely Kiwi visitor (hi neep1!) or being out on rides. It remains a thing of beauty, though those who warned that it sounded heavy were quite right. But I knew that. I am, however, up to the physical challenge and my muscles are rapidly toning up to meet their new demands! Give me another few months and I will have the lifting capacity of a Greek grandmother.

To tie things up, I read this comic written by an 86-year-old former soldier a few days ago. I think it is one of the most hopeful and beautiful things I have seen on the internet, so if you have a few free minutes, do check it out!

And now off to wash clothes, dye red stripes in hair, write words and try to get some sleep before I have to get up for a ride in the morning. Hope you're all very well and I will be back in the world of the functional and socially capable next week after I knock over everything that needs to get done this weekend!

Quick wave

I feel as though I need a Granny Weatherwax note ...

I woke up in time for two minutes' silence this morning, but having spent several days trying to find a poppy seller, was still poppy-less by the end of the day. Oh Sydney, why so little on the poppy front?

I'm one of those anti-war, pro-armed services people. Having travelled through several war zones in my time I strongly believe that war is almost never worth the cost to a society and that other political solutions are almost always preferable (not always – what else was Europe meant to do against Hitler?) But those who serve in the armed forces are usually motivated by an admirable sense of duty in my countries, and have most often done sterling service in peace-time crises. Their sacrifices should be highlighted in the public discourse, if for no other reason than to remind politicians that their actions can and will waste real and valued lives, and so they should be cautious and not gung-ho. Having grown up listening to those who served in both World Wars, they emphasised strongly that they fought so no one would have to again. Ninety-seven years after the war to end all wars began, we're still fighting. And at the moment it's because politicians over the last 30 years have all acted like economists in pretending that the future is unimportant. In a perfect world, all the politicians who trot out to lay wreaths today would be forced to run all decisions to go to war past foot soldiers and their families.

Anyway, other news. We were out walking at 2am the other morning because I unexpectedly have no work on for the next couple of months and it was 26 degrees Celcius still (MADNESS!), so a walk seemed sensible. I could hear the curling song of currawongs (one of the many big mad Australian birds that looks like a magpie or crow), which is a daytime sound, so I looked around until I found them. (Video of currawong song, not the same ones!)


Up on a wire were two, making a lot of noise and flapping their wings
aggressively. Between them was a tawny frogmouth, loudly clacking its
beak in a bid to scare them off (it sounds like a single clap of a castanet, startlingly loud for a bird that is less than a foot from top to end of tail). We guessed that the currawongs had chicks nearby and thought the frogmouth was after them. Since it eats only insects, they were panicking over nothing. We clapped our hands and tried to send the currawongs off, but they would only go a little distance away, and the frogmouth wasn't moving. Since they were scared of the frogmouth, we decided it was unlikely to be hurt and continued on our way, bemused by the wildlife in the city moment.

I still have not taken photos of the new bike, due to being too busy chasing down freelance work, tidying the house for our lovely Kiwi visitor (hi neep1!) or being out on rides. It remains a thing of beauty, though those who warned that it sounded heavy were quite right. But I knew that. I am, however, up to the physical challenge and my muscles are rapidly toning up to meet their new demands! Give me another few months and I will have the lifting capacity of a Greek grandmother.

To tie things up, I read this comic written by an 86-year-old former soldier a few days ago. I think it is one of the most hopeful and beautiful things I have seen on the internet, so if you have a few free minutes, do check it out!

And now off to wash clothes, dye red stripes in hair, write words and try to get some sleep before I have to get up for a ride in the morning. Hope you're all very well and I will be back in the world of the functional and socially capable next week after I knock over everything that needs to get done this weekend!