Oz ‘government’ set to break most promises


Downunder we have the first of the budgets handed down by this rabble of wicked children that is referred to by some as ‘the Government’ due early next month.

It promises to be an absolute stinker. And that degree of smelliness appears to be predicated on the ongoing total lie that when they got in they found there to be no money left at all. Such is the song they have sung since last September, and it gets no truer, no matter how many of them sing it. Just as one example, the bloke wearing the Treasurer’s hat managed to find from somewhere many billions of dollars to hand over to the Federal Reserve Bank ! Clever trick, eh ? – not to say absolutely mind-boggling … Nine billion bucks from an empty cash-tin. Gosh !

He’s now constantly trickling out some of the bad bits – as they all do – in advance of the budget, so as to prevent screaming and yelling and attempted general massacre of the Inner Cabinet on the night.

Click on The Drum icon to read the latest, and to help you understand why this Aussie is mostly in a rage, these days.

And btw: I’m not enraged because I stand to lose my age pension. I have no property (nor assets worth speaking of), so will not actually lose anything. I can pass any means test the bastards come up with. No, I couldn’t give a shit about anyone who’s working outside the system to the detriment of the rest of us. What gets my goat is the lies – the NEVER-ENDING STREAM OF LIES !  – that these revolting children keep uttering, supported by every reporter who works for the Murdoch Press.

Journalism ? — don’t make me laugh …


Daily Prompt: Showdown at Big Sky


How do you handle conflict? Boldly and directly? Or, do you prefer a more subtle approach?

This grim old bird is who you take on … [grin]

I met up with a very old friend (meaning, from 35 years ago, not that she is very old – because it turns out she is 12 years younger than I !) a few days ago. She came to have lunch with me.

We had a totally enjoyable time – well, I did ! (Nono, I’m doing it again, eh ? Sighh … Let’s just go with the original statement there.)

We had worked in the same place for a couple of years, and had even lived on the same Island, ditto; so there was lots to talk about as well as lots of new stuff. It was ace to see her.

When it became time to go, I realized I needed to undertake a local chore, so we wandered together out to the lift, chatting about an issue to do with my landlords. She said to me something along the lines of: “So what do you do when they don’t agree right away ? – do you do anything about it ?”

And as I opened my mouth to reply, she laughed at the question, and at me: “Don’t bother to answer that !”

I closed my mouth and grinned.

Definitely a blossom


Remember that ? – my incredulous discovery of a baby flower on my several-years-old hoya-in-a-basket ?

Well, here’s an update:


I almost got it in focus, this time ! Went out yesterday morning and had a go; but it was SO out-of-focus that I was enraged, and commenced thinking I’d never get a shot that would show the bloom.

Had another go this-morning, as you see. Still not showing you anything like a decent shot; but at least it does prove that the hoya plant had a baby that is growing up.

Writing Challenge: Great Expectations


Think of a time when someone, or something, didn’t meet your expectations. How did you come to terms with the disappointment?

In May 1959, the W.A. Education Department had all schools – even private ones – do a census on the ages of the students in their final year (which was then called ‘Leaving’, in Perth, where I was born). Why this was I have no idea: knowing now a little of bureacrats, they probably didn’t either … but the fact is that one schoolday morning Mother R stood at the head of the Leaving classroom and called out our names one by one, to which we had to answer in years and months.

When it came to me and I responded, she stopped very briefly and gave me A Look, but said nothing. Later, I came to understand that her Look meant my life was to be changed pretty radically.

Having been called to her office a couple of days later, I found to my amazement that my parents were there. They were looking … not grim, but determined.

Mother R told me that they were all in agreement that I was not to sit for the public exams that year and then leave school; but that I would return to spend a second year in Leaving, and sit for them the following year. I gaped. Kindly, she explained that it was felt I was too young to leave school, let alone to attend University. (Being indeed immature, I did not pick up the implied compliment – it never crossed my mind, until many years later.) I swung the gaping glance in the direction of my parents, who, while continuing to look determined, also looked somewhat uneasy.

Let us pass over all the “But, Mother !” stuff that ensued: it is not important, for it was entirely wasted. And it didn’t last all that long, as it had already struck me that I was going to have a very easy rest-of-year indeed. Which I did.

At the beginning of the following school year, when all the setting up of who does what occurred, I found that I had been elected Head Prefect. This was such a weird situation that it’s difficult to describe: suffice it to say that I had, a couple of years before, been more used to being carpeted than not, really. But there I was, elected to bear the responsibility and very proud to do so. I thought the nuns allowed it because they hoped it might make me A Better Person – that, or it might take my mind off having to spend another year in school …

It was strange that all the girls with whom I’d spent the years from kindergarten onwards were gone, and I was there with the lot beneath, so to speak. Took a bit of getting used to; but at that age kids are pretty resilient. Besides, the class ‘beneath’ were a very nice group: I was lucky.

I hope none of ‘em minds – I did make it small …

I had become a boarder because the Head Pre had to be one: she could not simply shut up shop and go home and the end of each school day. All of us sisters had boarded from time to time – the two oldest girls for many years, in fact. But this was different: there were places I had to be and rôles I had to play in my new position. For instance, after meals, which the boarders had in a dining-room reached along a long wooden and semi-enclosed verandah, I had to stand at the top of a set of stairs that were the final exit and watch for crimes like talking in the exit queue and … I can’t remember any others. It’s all gone. (Why everyone had to be silent in that queue waiting to leave, I didn’t know: one didn’t question these things – They Were, and that was that.) Of course there were criminals who did talk in the queue, and I would allot them punishments to suit the frightfulness of their crimes, such as an extra half-hour in the study period for boarders at the end of school days, when the others would be out having ‘play’.

And this was where the frightful disappointment affected my life: affected it so badly that I lost all will to ever again try to be a team player, and have remained a somewhat difficult individual for all my long years.

Mother R, who was also Mistress of Schools and in that position overseeing all things behavioural in the students, was keeping her eagle eye on me. It transpired that she had never been confident I could be Head Prefect with anything like the necessary gravitas and dedication; and having come to that decision, she simply acted as if it were the right one without bothering to wait and observe.

Whenever I gave a student one of these fearful punishments, she would cancel it behind my back. Nothing was ever said to me: her negation of my position was carried out in secret, as it were; and the frequent sinners, forgiven their sins for what reason no logic can possibly ascertain, then or now, kept shtum. It took me a good long while before I realised what was going on; when one evening a kid I’d sentenced to helping the lay sisters clean up the dining-room turned up within moments on the tennis-court. When I called her to come over to me, she turned to Mother R, standing nearby, and that worthy woman made a gesture to me that let me know beyond doubt the kid was, so to speak, under her ægis and not mine. Light dawned. Explanation of several puzzling events was instantly at hand. I turned away in utter rage.

I mistakely blamed my parents for this: I thought they had connived with her. In fact they knew nothing of it; and when I finally addressed the issue with my beloved father, he was very angry – and not with me. Had I spoken to him about it immediately, I would’ve saved myself many months of misery and isolation, and this was a salutory lesson that I’ve never forgotten: now I take issue whenever something arises, and don’t let it lie there and ferment.

My father spoke with her, and my situation was somewhat improved thereafter – but I had no more faith in my position, and certainly not in her. She had created the situation; and once I knew my parents had had nothing to do with it, I simply went through the motions without dedication. I obtained my Matriculation (an amazing thing, as I scarcely studied at all) and walked away from the school in which I’d spent twelve years of my short life with a fairly nasty taste in my mouth.

There were no winners: it was lose/lose.

Tea For Margaret Rose


I laughed and laughed …! :-D

Originally posted on Photos by Emilio:


(Click on image for detailed view)

Margaret Rose does not like over-processed images- for an example of which, see my previous post Live And (Let) Die. So the above image is for her! This does not mean I will eschew Lightroom. I’m having way too much fun. And I don’t think I have ever been able to use that word before: eschew.


Oh, and about the title for this post: Abraham Lincoln said, “If this is coffee, please bring me some tea; but if this is tea, please bring me some coffee.” Margaret Rose did not like the coffee I served, therefore….

View original

Six MONTHS ? – crikey !


Six months today I’ve been maintaining this site.

Six months of it you’ve had, and yet you’re still around. If my mate Matt were, I’d ask him to do me another of his awards – like the one he did for me that’s on the Re Awards page on the menu bar up there. But he’s not, which means I can’t. (I wish I knew where he is …)

As to what it would be, the award for you whose input is so welcome, and whose posts ditto – not sure. Maybe something like


I think. Or perhaps


might be relevant.   :-)

You could all put it on your sites, and laugh like anything (I hope) whenever your eye fell upon one on someone else’s.

Or Matt could have his arm twisted very severely so as to have him create dozens of ‘em …

Steve would reckon he should have


I imagine; while Mary-Jean’s opinion would run along the lines of


and Lizzie’s would probably be


or the like.   [grin]

Simon and one or two others – AB, for instance – would without doubt need


and my ‘general’ cooking gurus, including Lea, Michelle, and so on, would want to be given


while people like Maria and Elaine might want one that’s


Photog.s like Lignum Draco and Lynne and EM and Marc and everyone else would definitely want to given


as well as


My French and Italian friends – e.g., Ava and Patrizia – will definitely want the one called


and Laura and Gerardo would queue up for


and Katarina for the same re Swedish; while I think that Sue would probably deserve


There are so many more of your who deserve awards as well; but I have had such a frightful Sunday with spam and trying to solve it that my brain (such as it is) has given out on this topic. Those of you who know perfectly well you are very important to me, please forgive me for not being able to come up with an award relevant to you, yes ?

I could always do it on another pass on this topic; I think it’s amusing, and wouldn’t mind doing another set at some stage. Stand by, then, the rest of you(se) … or, alternatively, you could email me (do NOT send Comments, please !) with your own suggestions, which might well be cleverer.   :-)

Lots of help: only one answer

And the answer is that I must stop letting Comments be open: I have to approve them. What this is going to mean to my time in the mornings I can’t think. But it appears that it’s either time spent on clearing spam that Akismet has lovingly kept for me, or on manually approving comments.

I forgot to say a HUGE “thank you !!” to all who took the time to respond. I really am grateful, I promise !

That is what I currently see every morning – or the like, of course, as there are varying numbers of Akismet’s “OTY”s in the spam queue.

That is the remaining duo (of something like a previous dozen, all of which I deleted) that I’m keeping for Akismet if they ever get back to me by email. You will observe that they both state they’ve been cleared by Akismet; and if anyone can suggest WHY, I shall be grateful.

That is what I THINK I must change my settings to. In fact, the only change to what is already set and has been forever will be Before a comment appears, where I tick the Comment must be manually approved box.

Any further kindnesses available on this, please, team …?


If I show you this, you may begin to understand my grief and chagrin …

Who’s a spam expert ?

I just sat down at my desk and fired up the screen, going as I always do first to my blog dashboard so as to be able to clear that bloody list of spam comments, only to find that since I was last here – roughly 3½ hours ago – there were TWENTY-TWO SPAM COMMENTS in the list !!! Jesus.

Now, I know I’ve visited this topic before, and I remember that people offered me helpful responses, but my rapidly ageing brain has failed to sort and collate them. Which means that I never grasped it. Sorry.

[hangs head]

So. Here are my questions all neat and tidy, to be answered (again) by those feeling kind:

  • when Akismet “blocks” spam, as per the green thinggy in my sidebar, does that mean the spam THEN GOES INTO THE COMMENTS LIST ?
  • or does it mean that Akismet burns it out of existence and it disappears in a puff of smoke from my blog ?
  • and following on from this, is what I find when I open my dashboard – to my incredulous RAGE –
    “Akismet has protected your site from 3,696 spam comments already. There are 22 comments in your spam queue right now”
    the spam mentioned in that somewhat vainglorious boast in the greenwidget ?
  • or are they spam that Akismet has temporarily removed from my Comments so that I can check them and then destroy them myself ?

Let me see if I can be less confusing (cross yer fingers !) …

Is Akismet blocking a one-stage or two-stage process ?: i.e., does it shift spam from Comments to that list in the dash and let you do the burning ? – or does it burn most of them and leave some it’s unsure of in the dash list for you to decide about ?

And what is the link between Akismet and that Comment Moderation command in Settings ? – for it’s that command that makes me think Akismet is simply not doing its job.

Daily Prompt Photo Challenge: On Top


In a post created specifically for this challenge, share a photo that means ‘On Top!’


Stringer and a very old friend of ours had climbed Sacré Coeur inside, and this was what he shot once out again. You don’t get to see the Eiffel Tower so far away all that often …

Dunno what that thing on the left in the distance is: it can’t be Le Défense because there’d be other high things as well …