Bad Therapy

"Why the kids aren't growing up" is the title of a book I am currently reading. (Senintel/Penguin 2024).  I am reading it before I tackle another book. The other book is called "Irreversible Damage: the transgender craze seducing our daughters". Both are by Abigail Shrier. 

I was alerted to the second book by Nicola Morgan's post suggesting people should read it - even if they do not agree with everything the author has to say. It will be very interesting to read what Shrier has to say about "transgender" issues because I find myself largely in agreement with the issues she raises in "Bad Therapy".

On Saturday I had a letter in our state newspaper. I had written it almost a week before. They kept it for Saturday publication which suggests the staff member dealing with correspondence decided it was something which needed to be said by someone.

What I was saying was something which should be obvious. The proposed "misinformation/disinformation" bill going before the Senate is not about protecting us from "bad information" but about preventing us from obtaining information. The proposal is a direct contradiction to any democratic notions about "free speech". Despite claims to the contrary, it could and would be used to try and stifle any criticism of government or any questioning of "politically correct" ideas.

Of course at least one person had to argue with me. I could not, he told me, possibly know that. I could not possibly have written all those letters nobody would have responded to an unknown like me. Nobody in a country like this or the "civilised" (his word) world wants to prevent "free speech".

Really? I beg to differ. Yes, I really did write almost eight thousand letters to people all over the world. Yes, I really did write them before the internet existed. Yes, it did cost me a lot - and not just financially. What did I get from doing it? A great deal but by no means was it all good, far from it. 

There is one thing I can be absoutely certain about however and that is this - literacy skills, the freedom to gather information from many sources and disseminate it again is what underpins what we like to think of as "democracy". 

That the information we get may not always be "correct" is part of that process. We need to educate our children to read and listen with "critical comprehension". They need to be taught to research and question what they see and hear.

So far (and I am about halfway through) Shrier's book suggests this is not happening. I am waiting to see if she raises an issue I believe is very important. What are children being given to read? If they are reading fiction what sort of fiction are they reading? What are the themes present in those books? At one time it was, as a child in the library told me, "(I'm sick of) AIDS and death and divorce". Now it seems books dealing with racism, gender issues, climate change and the like are flavour of the month or year. Children are a captive audience and many of those books will be well written and written with the best of intentions. Whether they are really in the best interests of the child and the future adult reader is something else.

We need literate children. That means much more than being able to read what schools provide. It means more than giving the "correct" answers when asked to show it has been "understood".  I would argue the highest forms of literacy involve the skills of seeking out many sources of information and using critical thinking to evaluate them. It won't be perfect but it is surely better than being denied sources of information because they do not conform with what others think we should know.

 

"Nobody else in my class likes

doing things like this," a child told me yesterday.

She had come with her sister and her mother to the knitting and crochet group which meets at the local library. Anyone is welcome to come to this group. We will try to teach anyone to learn or help anyone with a pattern or process. 

It's a good group, a very good group. G..., who teaches most of the crochet related things, is an outstandingly good teacher. She had her work cut out for her yesterday. There were the two girls, eleven and nine, and a young Chinese woman who had brought along a young man with obvious problems. He wanted to learn something but he just wanted to sit and watch for a while. There was also the mother of the two girls. She was also going to try crochet for the first time.

I am not much help with crochet. I know a good deal but I am a left pawed cat and that is not much help when trying to teach a raw beginner. It is easier if that person is an adult but I feel children should have a good example from a competent person if such a person is available and willing.

The new students all made progress. The eleven year old was almost silent with concentration. It was her mother who told me that coming to the group was "part of E..'s birthday present". The gift she had been given was a zipper bag containing hooks, yarn, tape measure and the like. These were the tools needed to start on what I hope will be a life-long venture for her.

It was at the end of the afternoon, after G... had rushed off to catch her train, that E... joined in the conversation as the rest of us were starting to pack our things away. She told me, "Nobody else in my class likes doing things like this." 

I asked her what they liked to do instead. "They like playing on their phones."

Oh. It is not an activity I see as "play". They are not creating anything, not even an imaginative game. I doubt they are learning anyting at all, let alone learning to socialise. Yet, it seems they "like" this activity.  Instead E... had spent a couple of hours starting to learn a new skill which, if she persists, will lead to a potentially life long hobby of creating items for the pleasure of doing so.

I spent some time trying to help a woman who comes occasionally. She is still very new at the craft of knitting. She said she had finished something with which we had been trying to help her but did not show us. Now she wanted to try something much more difficult. It requires advanced skills and techniques. Would I show her? 

She is impatient. "Just show me" and "I know how to do that so go on to the next bit". I tried but, unlike a child who really wants to learn, she is not going to succeed. I know she will think I am a bad teacher. I tried to make her undo the twenty stitches she was working on but she simply went on to the next row. Eventually, as we had to all leave, I suggested she look at a video on the internet. 

"You can stop and start it as you need to," I told her and she went off happily enough. Perhaps it will work for her but I looked over at the eleven year old who, on being asked if she wanted to come back for another lesson, said a very enthusiastic, "Oh, yes please!"

It was another moment which made me feel there is hope for the next generation. 

RIP Maggie Smith

I found your acting extraordinary.

I suppose most of us will remember her for her roles in the Harry Potter movies or in Downton Abbey but there were also other places where her brilliance shone. 

The one I remember is the moment in Sister Act where she says just two words, "I lied". So much goes into those two words. It is the mark of a truly great actress that they can make something of just two words.

I am no actress. I have never had any desire to be one. School plays were torture for me. I have written plays for children to use in the schools I worked in but I did not want to be on stage. 

One year there was a Playwright's Conference held at a university I was attending. Most of the students had gone home for the Easter break. I had remained behind in the hall of residence. The playwrights, the actors and actresses, the set designers and more all descended. Within half an hour of his arrival I had the playwright David Williamson, placed in the room next to mine, banging on the door and wanting to know was there a kettle. (I provided not only a kettle but everything else.) 

He wanted to know if I was there for the conference of course. No? I explained who I was and why I was there when the students had gone home. "You are absolutely safe," I told him, "I have no desire at all to appear on stage or screen."

He laughed but word must have got around because that evening one of the other conference attendees introduced me to a table of people whose names I recognised as, "This is Cat and she does not want to be an actress". They cheered me, someone pulled out a chair and they included me in their conversation. I was not a rival.

I remember Maggie Smith, Judi Dench, Vanessa Redgrave and others coming into the conversation. These people were talking about technique and what they could learn from such actresses. They might have been rivals for roles in other places but here they were talking about actual acting. I know very little about such things. Yes, I have read Stanislavski. No, I do not understand the actual process he was talking about, not from the inside. I am not an actress.

I think Maggie Smith would have understood perfectly. On screen she would always come across as the person she was acting as being, never herself. It is a remarkable gift perhaps but it must also be immensely difficult to do. 

I know very little about training to be on stage or in film but I hope that young hopefuls are told, "Go and watch what Maggie Smith does and how she does it...find out how Judi Dench does this or that...look at the way X... or Y... uses this or that...". 

And perhaps the rest of us can learn something from them too, something about humility. It may not always show on the surface but I am sure the best of them know about that...and are willing to learn from each other. 

Do you match your dog?

No, that heading is not a mistake. I am not talking about "washing" your dog. I want to know if you physically match it.

A post by E... on Facebook about dogs in London has prompted me to ask this. E...was talking about dogs she sees out an about.

It is possible that dogs and their owners in London have changed since I was there but I think it is unlikely because I have observed the same thing here. Some humans match their dogs and this happens more often than would seem to be by mere chance.

As poor, very poor, students we would take our entertinment where we could find it. If it was absolutely free even better. That would often mean someone saying, "I need to get out. Anyone else feel like wandering over to the park and watching the dogs?"

That would be followed, "Anyone got biscuit crumbs left?" That would be for the birds.

Suitably attired for whatever the weather was like we would head out on a Sunday afternoon and go to Regent's Park. It was much more entertaining than any of the "squares" around our area of the university. The others would always patiently include me in the invitation and see me safely across the heart-stopping roads in central London.  We would eventually reach the park. If it was fine and dry we would sit or sprawl in the grass and watch the dog walkers. 

There was an afghan hound. The owner needed to be long and thin and preferably hairy. There was a dachshund. A dacshund owner, preferably male, needed to be very smoothly dressed.  A highland terrier needed an owner wearing tweed. There were others too of course. The dog owners we most appreciated were the owners of poodles. The poodle need to be wearing a ribbon, preferably pink, and the owner had to be wearing what  we considered to be fussy or frilly clothes. Even more important than tht they needed to be wearing what we called "Dame Edna glasses" - with rhinestone wings. If the frames were pink or purple they would be given even more marks. 

We would give the owners points for grooming and behaviour. "We need a ten before we leave," a Welsh friend would say. The rest of us would groan and leave M... to go on watching. We would feed the ducks and S... (from Bristol) would hold her arm out, steady as could be, so that the sparrows could feed on the crumbs in her hand. She always seemed to attract them with no trouble at all. We would go on dog owner watching for a while.

We would leave the park as it was growing dark. Had weall found a ten today? M... was usually the one to decide we had. 

I remember someone else in our hall of residence being absolutely shocked by what we were doing. He thought we were dreadful, that we were making fun of people in a cruel way. I don't think we were. The dog owners never knew what we were doing. We just delighted in watching the extraordinary variety of dogs and their owners. It was even better when the dog and the human "matched" each other. 

Today is Gabriel's "birthday"

perhaps. It could be any other day of the year. It might be this year he is forty or he might be thirty-nine. He could be forty-one although that seems less likely. He doesn't know. I don't know.

I have "known" Gabriel since he arrived in the camp once run by a late friend of mine. She was a nun and Gabriel will tell you that she gave him his life.

I do not normally put names here, just initials but this time Gabriel has told me, "If you tell the story then tell them how I am called Gabriel."

I am not going to tell the entire story. It would take too long to write and too long to read. Let me just say that Gabriel has no hands. He was mutilated by "soldiers" who killed his family. A young girl in the same village escaped with him. L.. carried him on a bike belonging to a man who had been killed during the massacre. She eventually "sold" the bike to pay for a passage across a river into another country. Through all that time she cared for Gabriel who was very, very ill. Somehow they both survived but Gabriel only survived because his hands had to be amputated after infections set in. 

Both children ended their journey at the camp for unaccompanied children run by my friend. For weeks Gabriel did nothing more than lie in one of the hammocks they used as beds for some of the sickest children. He was too traumatised to speak. The language, although similar, was not the same.

It was at that point that I was asked to see if I could build a communication board for him. Would he perhaps use it to indicate something if he did not want to make eye contact with anyone? Doing it from a great distance and knowing so little made it a real challenge. There was no internet to help with communication when we began, even getting a fax through to the nearest large town was difficult. 

There was something about Gabriel which made Sister C... persist. She told me, "I watched him and he was watching us. He was watching us very closely." He went from lying in the hammock to sitting wherever L.. or Sister C... were working, to exploring and to occasionally kicking the precious soccer ball belonging to the boys in the camp.

It took months before he made the first tentative moves to communicate. For a while we thought he might never "say" much at all, let alone actually speak. Then one morning he was sitting on the ground listening to the basic airthmetic lesson being given to the other children. Asked for an answer the child next to him got it wrong and Gabriel, without being asked, answered correctly.

From then on he made progress, rapid progress. At that time all the boys in the camp would go on to manual work if positions could be found for them. It was all they could afford to find for them. Gabriel of course had no chance of manual work. What was to be done with him?

He loved numbers. Sister C... went as far as she could with him. Our friend Z...sent textbooks for them. Recognising very high intelligence we all sought a solution and eventually a priest who had been educated at a university abroad offered to help. It would mean Gabriel needed to leave the camp. Could he manage? L... offered to go too. She would help. She could get a position as a domestic servant somewhere. It was not what Gabriel wanted at all. 

"I wanted to study but L... had already given up so much time for me and I very frightened at the idea of leaving the place where I felt safe."

He was told he must go and that this was how he could pay the debt he felt he owed. Rather than be a domestic there was a chance that L.. could train to work with young children.

They went and the rest is history I suppose. Gabrield has a degree in mathematics. He teaches. Sister C... is no longer with us. The camp is no longer there. Gabriel has not been back for many years.

But on 26th September each year he celebrates his "birthday" because that is the day Sister C... chose with him. She gave him the name "Gabriel" because, she told him, he was "almost an angel".

"I was a demon once I started talking again," Gabriel says, "I was always asking questions. Poor Sister C... and Sister A.... They had no idea what to do with me. The others just did not ask questions like that."

And of his "birthday"? He reminded me it was coming up. It has nothing at all to do with wanting it to be acknowledged. He has never wanted a present. He just tells me, "I was given the best present of all - a special day on which to celebrate being a real person."

Happy Birthday Gabriel!

 

"We have never used it"

is something most people have probably said of something - and perhaps said more than once. How many people regret buying something because they have never used it - or rarely used it.

Going through things in this house I have not come across much which has not been used . There are one or two things that have not had as much use as they might have had but, for the most part, the Senior Cat and I used what we bought.

"Even the bread machine?" I was asked recently. It is apparently something many people regret buying. We had the first bread machine given to us by a friend...and we used it. When it failed I bought a second one because the Senior Cat loved to have the sort of bread he called "real bread" - full grain with added seeds of various sorts. I used the machine about once every four days - the time it took us to eat the loaf. I have not used it quite so much since then but I have used it often enough to justify having bought it in the first place. 

I have come across things my mother bought and did not use. I am aware of when she bought some of those things and I suspect that it was around about that time she began to feel very unwell. Perhaps, given her beliefs, she thought she was going to be fine and would get on with the baking and sewing and gardening she had planned. 

Yesterday Middle Cat and I tackled part of the dining area cupboard and the mugs in it. I rather suspect many people have a collection of mugs. Some they may have bought because they simply liked the look of them. Others will have been given to them. There might be others they have "rescued" when other people have thrown them away. All this is true of us. I have a "cat" mug I bought in the local charity shop. The cat reminds me of one we once had. I have another one, a large one. It is my breakfast mug, given to me by Middle Cat. The cat on that is called "the Mouser" and is holding a computer mouse in his mouth. There are other cat related mugs including the one given to the Senior Cat which says, "real men like cats".

Among all this there was a box of four mugs. They have never been used. We think our mother must have bought them for some reason. It has puzzled us because it was not the sort of thing she usually bought. Was it intended for a raffle prize at her church guild? It is the only thing for which we can think it might have been intended. What to do with it? Give it to charity?

A friend is coming to lunch today, the friend who comes on a regular basis. She has been heavily involved in the Lions for many years. I know they have a regular Christmas raffle. It is a substantial one where a trailer (not the American sort) is donated and filled with a variety of household goods. I sent W... a message. Would Lions perhaps like the mugs? Yes, they would.

I am glad they are going to be put to a good purpose...but I do rather wonder whether the winner of the raffle will need any more mugs. 

The "misinformation/disinformation" bill

currently before our federal parliament is not designed to "protect" but "prevent". It is not there to ensure we cannot get "harmful" information but to try and prevent us from getting information the government does not wish us to have.

Yes, there is a lot of harmful material on the internet. The legislation is not going to stop that. There can be an attempt to prevent it by trying to make "big tech" responsible but it won't stop the dissemination of such information. You can get a story around the globe in seconds now. The story can be taken down at the source but the damage will have been done. Like the old game of "Chinese whispers" the story will grow and/or change the more prevention is tried. The only way to stop such things will be to prevent people from accessing the internet. This is what happens in North Korea and like regimes. 

Where the government controls the "internet" then the free flow of information is restricted. It allows the government to "inform" people and tell them what they "need to know".  Is there anyone who really believes a government, any government, does not have an interest in doing that? This is bureaucracy at its finest. 

This country has a very high rate of "literacy" - around 99% - but literacy can mean many things. It is no longer considered to be "the ability to read and write". It can also mean the ability to understand and use images, use a computer or use an ATM or more.  In other words it now considers whether someone can actually do what is required of them by government entities like Centrelink. By no means everyone can. More and more organisations are "going digital". My health fund recently did this. It means many older people who are not comfortable with computers are struggling to do what was once an easy paper based task. They are being told "get used to it".

I read newspapers "on line" now. For years it was delivered each morning. There were actually two delivered. The state newspaper and the national newspaper. Delivery is now rare. It is expected people will read the paper on line. I note there are still many people who read the printed papers in the library. How much longer will that go on? 

I know more and more people who rely on commercial television news services for their "information". It is alarming how poorly informed many people are. They will "believe" something simply because they "heard it on the news". Is that really enough? I think not but they are "time poor". It is becoming increasingly easy to "educate" people about issues like "climate change", "renewable energy", "racism" and "gender diversity". Attempting to prevent discussion of these issues will simply lead to more people with little or no knowledge of these things. They will believe they know and that they can make an informed choice. What will really have happened is something different. They are being told what to think in ways over which others have control.

If we really want at least some people to be better informed then we would perhaps do much better to teach real literacy in school - literacy which leads to comprehension and critical thinking. The government's proposal is in direct contradiction of this. It needs to be condemned for that reason.  

 

I think the computer has died

and I am struggling to write this on the lap top. I find that much more difficult to use and, right now, I am much more concerned that there may be a major recovery problem. 

There was a very brief outage this morning. I can only assume it was a power surge of some sort. As there were some minor issues before that this seems to have been too much for the computer to handle. 

To say this is "frustrating" would be putting it mildly. If I was the sort of cat who swore I would be swearing. As it is I am giving mews of frustration instead. I do not need this on top of all the other issues going on right now. 

Somebody please send tea (in large quantities) and sympathy! 

Student accommodation is

something I think I am past wanting to live in.

I went to boarding school for one unhappy year. I worked in another boarding school for rather longer. It was an experience I tolerated in order to be able to do what I wanted to do. I volunteered in a residential nursery school at the same time. That was something I did enjoy. It was a challenge trying to communicate with very young and profoundly deaf children.

When I went to university in London I stayed in a student hall of residence. Many of the students were older and they came from all over the world. They were very interesting and often highly amusing companions. I hope they enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed theirs.

Later still I lived in university accommodation here at two different universities. I was tutoring by then. I was not a young student. There were times when I felt the need to get away from them however nice and friendly they often were. 

I am not "into" modern "music", late nights, booze, pot and other drugs or emotional scenes over romantic break downs. Noisy cars and washing still on the line a week later bother me. I am simply too old a cat to be bothered with any of it.

So, yesterday's trip to one potential place of residence was over before I looked inside. The building was dirty, untidy and generally not well looked after. Even if the accommodation had been a good size I would have hesitated. This is not about "being fussy". It is about living with other people. In fairness they would not have wanted me there - except perhaps to mother them if they were ill or in need of someone to listen to them.

The other place has been on the market for some weeks. This is warning enough in itself. I went to look at it. I intended to go inside as there was an "open". I did not bother because even I could see the problem. There is a large crack in one wall, large enough for me to put my fingers in. I wonder what sort of repairs they are looking at. Will it be the same sort of issue there is with the place Middle Cat and I looked at recently? She managed to get hold of a report on that on Friday and discovered that some major structural work had been done but there was much more to do. If I had moved there the value of the place may soon have plummeted and there would have been very, very expensive repairs in the near future. 

So, I keep looking...and looking.  

Rent out a room?

This is the latest idea from an academic in another state. She claims there are thirteen million unused bedrooms in this country. Many of them are in the houses of elderly people living alone. Now she is suggesting that the bedrooms could be rented out to people in need.

Good idea? I think not. I can see all sorts of problems with this suggestion.

This house has four bedrooms - but really has only two. There is the bedroom my parents and then just my father used. There is the bedroom I use as both sleeping and workspace. That is not an ideal arrangement but the way we had to set things up.

There is the room we call "the office" which is where the Senior Cat had the professional part of his library and his teaching materials. It is a very small room. There are bookshelves and cupboards on three sides and they were crammed with material.  Used as a bedroom there would be room for a bed and a small wardrobe and nothing much else.

There is the room we call "the sewing room". It was my mother's den. She did her sewing in there of course but it also contained (and still contains) many things she owned - books, other craft material, the photograph albums of her grandchildren and more.  After her death it became a dumping ground. The Senior Cat would tell me, "Put it in the sewing room" if we did not know where to put something. Things have piled up in there and it is the next room I must tackle. It is the one I am looking forward to the least. It will not be easy. I doubt I will be sentimental about much of it but it will be a struggle to know just what to do with what is there. Too good to throw away? Who can use it? Who in the family might want that? There will be these sort of questions and more. 

Before we knew we would be required to sell this house there were discussions about whether we could work out a way of me staying here. The bedroom my parents had also has an "ensuite" bathroom. There is an area which might be called a "dressing room" too. It sounds very fancy but it is all really very ordinary. There was however a real possibility that it could have been converted into a very comfortable "bed-sit" for a student. We talked about it and decided against it. 

The potential problems and issues were just too many. Would they be noisy? (I need quiet in which to work.) Would they need English tuition? Would they be clean and tidy? What times of the day would they be coming and going? Would I be woken at night by their activities? How much would they be able to pay? What would happen if they did not pay their rent? What if they became ill? 

These were just some of the questions we started to think about. Now I think of even older people trying to adjust to someone else living in their space without even the benefits of the more separate accommodation we could have offered here. There is the potential for so much harm to be done, demands which might be made and more.

I don't see simply renting out a room as the answer even if there was no financial penalty for doing so. 

There was a bag of puzzles

in among the items which needed sorting out. Middle Cat had packed them altogether and put them to one side. Yesterday we gave them away.

They were not jigsaw puzzles but three dimensional wooden puzzles. Some require the pieces to be locked or unlocked. Others require a set of irregular blocks to be fitted together into a cube or sphere. There are yet others which require a ring to be removed from a seemingly impossible position. Some of them are relatively simple, others are very difficult indeed.  I have wondered at the minds of those who have created such devilry.

The Senior Cat made these. He was fascinated by them and the people who designed them. He began with the very easiest models and went on to some very complex pieces. He would make multiple copies of each puzzle and sold some. Most of the time however he would give them away. He was particularly fond of making them from special native timbers to give to overseas visitors. They were made to be small enough and light enough to be welcome gifts. I wonder sometimes what has happened to them. He was once asked to make several as gifts for a very senior diplomat to give visitors. From the reports back they were delighted to have something very different from the sort of thing they are usually given. 

But, like so many other things, we gave the last of them away. They went to one of his former conjuring students, now a young man. I have no doubt he will treasure them. He came to the Senior Cat's funeral, indeed participated in the service. His entire family are the sort of people usually described as "lovely" but they are more than that. 

They really did care about the Senior Cat. It was J...'s father who put the magnetic catch on the front door. It keeps the door open if you need to take things out or bring them in. For the Senior Cat it made using his walker so much easier. Recently it has been wonderful for us as we pack things and take them out for recycling, reusing and more.

I said this to J..'s parents as they were leaving. I know they meant it when they said, "If there is anything we can do...and please don't lose touch..."  So often those things are said and perhaps meant in a casual sort of way but this seems different. Their children are all going into "caring" professions, roles where they can and will make a difference. 

All the Senior Cat ever did was teach their eldest to do some conjuring tricks. They have given us so much more.   

Letters written by my parents

and my grandparents and even by my great-grandparents have appeared during the sorting and packing going on here. There have not been a lot of letters but the few which are there are interesting.

I have looked at each of them of course.  They are there on thin, yellowing paper. Almost all of them use pen and ink rather than a biro. The oldest ink has gone that unique shade of brown. The most recent is still blue but it is fading. The biro remains blue...or black but there is very little written in it.

My mother wrote letters, a lot of letters. There was a time when she wrote one letter each night of the week. Six of them would be sent to the three of her four children living away from home in order to go on with our schooling. The seventh, written on Sunday evenings, would be sent to her mother. Our letters were short, sometimes not filling a page. Mum simply wanted us to know she was there, our father was there and our youngest sibling was there. They never said a lot. The letter to her mother was longer. It had to be or her mother would have complained she was not being told "everything".  

Mum found letter writing physically easy. She had lovely handwriting and her pen just flowed across the page. It is little wonder that she was on what they called "the Handwriting Committee".  She despaired of all of us, particularly of the Senior Cat and me. 

The Senior Cat wrote to his parents. I saw little evidence of that but he wrote to them on a regular basis from the time of his first (and very remote) posting as a teacher. He was a very long way from home and letters took several days to arrive. His mother would write to him and his father would add something to these.  Once married the letters continued. Grandpa also wrote regularly to his cousin in Scotland and to his siblings.

I found two letters written by my  paternal great-grandmother and I wish the family had saved hers. She was a crofter's daughter but, like many Scots, she had a very good education for as far as it went. Her actual handwriting is of that era, almost copperplate style. Her language is brisk. I am told she wrote to every one of her children who was not within her sight on at least a weekly basis. Yes, she had eleven children and, in her late sixties and her seventies, she was running a dairy farm. When she returned to the city in her eighties she continued to write. The letters are lost of course but they might have made fascinating reading. She had a social awareness far in advance of her time.

On the other side of the family my maternal grandmother wrote to a cousin in another state but there was little contact between anyone else apart from Mum. We did not even know she had a second brother until I found evidence of him in genealogical records. He was never mentioned. My maternal grandfather had siblings in the same city. They visited each other occasionally but none of them seemed to write to him or each other. Still, I found a letter from his father while doing "missionary" work at an aboriginal settlement. It makes curious reading being full of flowery religious sentiments. 

I doubt there will be any more unexpected finds but the little I have found is of interest to my generation and will be to the next. They are there waiting to be passed on for others to read. I look at them and think the art of letter writing has been lost. We email each other or phone. It is not the same. What we have to say to each other will not be there for the next generation. How will they find us?

 

 

We need to rethink housing

in this country. We need to think how it is done and how much space we need to accommodate the future population.

Yes, I am looking for housing right. Yes, it is a problem. It is a big problem.

What has interested me is that it would appear to be much more difficult and expensive here than it is in Scotland. I have been looking.

Why Scotland? No, I am not going to move there. I would if I could - despite the weather! I have no right to live there. My interest is simply that the chief of our clan has his home on the market right now and I was sent a picture of it on the website belonging to the real estate company. It was interesting in that it was a rather large house of a certain style and would, if the clan had been able to afford it, have made an interesting B&B perhaps. 

That was not really interested me. Out of curiosity I had a quick look to see what the price of the sort of housing I am wanting was selling for there. I expected it to be at least as expensive and almost certainly much more than it is here. I was shocked to discover it was about half the price I expected. (Yes, I am correct. I double checked and considered the exchange rate.) 

This morning I looked again on a site called "Right Move" because someone I know has her house up for sale. Even a property in central Edinburgh of similar size to one here was cheaper, much cheaper. Taking into account the difference between the likely annual salaries of people does not begin to account for the difference. So, what is going on? I have not looked at the rental market there. That may provide some clues.

Still, all this made me wonder what has happened here. I have talked elsewhere of people wanting their free-standing houses on what used to be "quarter acre blocks". In my several times a day perusal of the real estate sites here I came across a piece of land for sale. It was said to be "127sqm". The minimum size for a "unit" (attached housing) is supposed to be almost twice that. I can only assume anyone who buys that tiny spot will go "up" rather than "out". 

Two story housing is becoming more common in this country, indeed is common in some areas. Nevertheless there are still a lot of single level dwellings. A friend who was here yesterday mentioned a house she had seen on one of her early morning walks. It has been up for sale for some time. It is in a "nice" area where the housing tends to be very expensive but perhaps this is too expensive or perhaps the two levels are putting people off? 

I wonder what will happen next. I really do not see the plans of the present government succeeding. They say they are trying to provide people with the ability to "own" their own homes but there are major flaws in their arguments. They say this housing will be available for people who cannot save a deposit and for domestic violence victims who will otherwise be without housing or homeless women. That last I find highly improbable because their plans do not include me. 

I really do believe there are other and better ways of handling the housing crisis.  In doing it we may all need to lower our expectations about what we live in and where it is situated.  Yes, I know what you are now thinking but I hope my expectations are not unreasonable. I will just keep looking...and hoping.  

I have not watched the ABC

for many years. By "ABC" I mean Downunder's ABC, our supposed equivalent of the BBC, not the United States' ABC.

There was a time when the Senior Cat would turn the television set on at about a minute before the 7pm news and then we would watch. For many years, or so it seemed, the person who read the news each night was John Ovenden. He was the best newsreader around, by far the best. As I remember him he is possibly the best I have ever known. He had an outstanding speaking voice, well suited to the BBC World Service for whom he also worked at one time. 

These days he has retired comfortably into the hills behind me. He has written a couple of plays and no doubt does other useful things in his "retirement". He would be that sort of person. 

What really needs to happen is for him to be pulled out of retirement and given the task of teaching this generation of news readers and reporters how to do their job. My grammar is far from perfect - and yes I do know about those "split infinitives"! That said I picked up no less than three grammatical errors on SBS last night. There were also errors in the news stories. 

I have come to expect errors. SBS is particularly prone to them, perhaps because of translation issues. It is supposed to be an international news source. Things do get lost and mislaid in translation. The general gist of a story however is usually there. I can make sense of it. The bias is obvious. "Political correctness" is everything. SBS material tends left, even far left at times, rather than right. SBS made no secret of support for the referendum on the "Voice". The bias was not subtle and it is often not subtle at other times but this is to be expected. It is part of the charter under which SBS works.

The ABC should be different. It has a legal responsibility to present the news without bias. It fails to do this and it fails miserably. I have not seen the footage but apparently the sound of gunfire was added to a story. Allegedly? I asked the question but no, it has been admitted. The only reason to do something like that would be in order to suggest something which was not true. 

All this came up last night when someone called me about another issue and the conversation veered off into that direction. "And did you know X... was considering running at the next election?" No, I did not know that one of the ABC journalists was considering running for parliament. It did not surprise me. More than one person has gone from the ABC to politics -  and been the partner of someone heavily involved in politics. It is almost inevitable that any strong political bias will influence their reporting. 

This time however even the ABC has gone too far. There have been questions asked in places where questions should have been asked much earlier. It is going to take much more than a rap over the knuckles to alter behaviour there. I doubt that anything much will change. The present team is too useful to the government eight months out from an election.

It is a good reminder to try and keep getting my news from a variety of sources - but I can find alternatives to the ABC. 

If the Prime Minister believes

he can legislate to somehow control the "big tech" companies and tell them how to run their businesses then he is an even bigger fool than he makes himself out to be. It won't work.

There are around twenty-seven million people in this country. There are around thirty-nine million in California, the place where so many of the big tech companies began business. The reach of big tech is international. It is only regimes like those of the Kim family in North Korea which try to prevent people from accessing the services provided by big tech. It is only when governments have something to hide they attempt to limit access.

Our Prime Minister is saying that the proposed legislation to limit access by under sixteen year old students is intended to hold big tech responsible for everything that goes on there. It is apparently not intended to hold those who (ab)use the internet responsible. No, big tech can do much more to prevent it. 

Yes, perhaps big tech can and should do more but it is clear that the Prime Minister's proposed legislation has very little to do with this. He is taking on big tech because he believes he can. He believes he can actually prevent access to information he decides is "misinformation" or "disinformation". The proposed legislation is actually written in such a way that shows it is intended to prevent access to information with which the government does not agree. Despite claims to the contrary it will have the capacity to wipe out discussion about climate change, sexuality and gender, racism, nuclear power, migration and any other issue where is a strong view which opposes government policy. 

As it is currently written the proposed legislation has the potential to influence the conduct of elections in this country. That is of particular concern when attendance at the ballot box is compulsory.  Does he also propose to ban the use of VPNs? 

It is all very well to make claims about what legislation is or is not intended to do or what it will mean we can or cannot do but the reality may be very different. When it has been passed and there is a challenge to it, perhaps in the High Court, then unintended consequences might arise. The case "Commonwealth v Tasmania" (or the "Tasmanian Dam" case as it is popularly called) showed just how the Commonwealth government was able to manipulate the law in order to suit their own agenda. We might applaud that outcome on environmental grounds but the power given to the government as a consequence has had far reaching consequences. 

The idea that the government of a country with a very small population like ours can hope to control big tech is nonsense. However they may attempt to dress it up this is not about being able to control those companies. It is about being able to control us.  

Packing to move house

is proving more and more difficult.

I am being "helped" by Middle Cat and my BIL. If I did not need their actual physical assistance it would be much, much easier to do it by myself.

I mentioned this to someone I know. She also had to "downsize" recently. Her husband died very suddenly and, sensible woman she is, she had already given thought to what might happen if he went first.

"It was much easier for me Cat," she said, "I had the finances and the ability to drive."

I sighed. Yes, this is true. My finances are even more limited because of the Black Cat's behaviour. Not being able to drive has meant that I cannot simply load items into a car and take them to the nearest charity shop or to the metal recycling place. 

Middle Cat keeps insisting that she will "sell" something on a FB page and that is, despite her intentions, not working well. It is not because these are things people will not be interested in. They will be interested in some unused Bundt cake tins our mother collected. There are still people out there who make those sort of cakes. They will be interested in some "quirky" glassware and other little oddities she collected. Middle Cat showed me the site and it is clear that there are strange people who collect this sort of thing. It might not bring in much but it might bring in something for Middle Cat if she can actually get around to doing what needs to be done. Therein lies one problem. She procrastinates. She means to do things. She really does have good intentions but she reminds me of a great aunt we had. In so many ways she is just like R...  People loved R... but they knew she was more than a little eccentric...and not to be relied on if something else caught her attention. None of this sort of thing in Middle Cat's makeup is helping me right now. It is an outright hindrance.

But then there is my BIL. He is an engineer. In many ways he is the exact opposite of Middle Cat. He is very tidy and very, very organised. He has lists for everything. He does not keep things he considers he does not "need". He doesn't read so he has no understanding of the need for books. He has a workshop but he sees it as a place where practical and necessary things are done and the  go-karts are given their tender loving care. The idea that I might like to knit or indulge in any other sort of hobby which requires "stuff" is something he genuinely does not understand. 

"Just buy stuff when you need it Cat. You don't need all this," he tells me, "What do you want two packs of paper for? You probably don't even need one...and what's this for? Where are you going to put this stuff?"

I love him dearly but he has no idea at all. He went through a box yesterday at lightning speed and I had to stop him. We argued and I suppose we will argue some more.  I love them both but they are not helping in a helpful way.

He tried to come out on top in the end by saying, "Without engineers the rest of you would get nowhere."

And I told him, "Without language you engineers could not even function."

He didn't understand that at all.

 

  

"There is no need to go to lectures"

 or so it would seem, "because you can do it on line from home. You can do it at a time which suits you too."

Ooh...sounds so good if you are a young university student who would prefer to use the morning for sleeping in or the student juggling a full time job and a part time degree.  This is so good if you simply do not want to crawl out of a cosy bed in winter or go out in the hot summer sun. 

Is it really so good though? The universities here are now playing with "remote teaching and learning". Where possible lectures will go on line. They can then be accessed at a time convenient to the student and it will free up staff to do whatever it is they do when they are not facing the students.

I can see problems with this. At teacher training college we actually had to sign in to each lecture. An attendance sheet would be passed around and we had to put our initials next to our names. Missing a lecture had consequences too. Medical certificates were much more difficult to come by back then and some students found themselves in real strife. Unlike me, dutifully working my way through as a (very) junior housemistress in a boarding school for girls, they were state bonded and attendance was compulsory. Of course people got around it. It was expected other people would forge your signature, that students would take it in turn to attend and more.

I had no such chances there. I was there under sufferance. I made sure I turned up to lectures and that I handed in my assignments on time. The one occasion on which I did not was in my final year. Mum's mother had died. She came over to the city. I went over to the island we were living on at the time. I taught her class in her absence (unpaid) and still managed to write the assignment but not type a clean copy. I managed to get an overnight extension to do that but was told I would only get a "P" for it. (P was for pass.) That was the ruling of the college principal, a man who made it quite clear he thought I had no right to be there. 

Life might have been much easier if I had not needed to go to lectures but would I have wanted that? I doubt it. Our lectures there ranged from very formal to informal. You knew which lecturers you could ask questions of in class and which lecturers you did not interrupt.

A couple of years later I headed off to London. I went to university there and discovered that you could ask questions. Questions were encouraged. Suddenly learning really began to mean something again. We could come out of a lecture all "fired up". We talked about what had been said, about the assignment we had been given, about a teaching point and much more. This seemed to me to be what a university should be about. For the first time in my life I felt as if my capacity to learn was being stretched.

Much later I went back to being a student for a while. I needed to know some law, rather a lot of law. I enrolled in a law faculty and kept myself together by tutoring in psychology and teaching the finer points of the English language to students from other backgrounds. The contrast was often interesting. In the first year of law school it was all very different. My reading speed dropped dramatically. I mentioned this to my first year tutor. She laughed when I told her what it had dropped to and said something like, "I think you might find that is about three times faster than those straight out of school." It still seemed slow to me and my good friend C..., much smarter than I am, agreed.

We got away with a lot though because we could ask questions in class. Lecture styles varied and some lecturers were more able than others. On more than one occasion one of the older students doing law as a post-graduate would ask a very pertinent question and there would often be a "thank you for asking that" and a new case example might be given or the Latin explained. 

Jurisprudence was no longer a compulsory subject but one I knew I needed to do. It was not a popular subject. There were just sixteen of us in the class. The lecturer would engage us from the start. How? What? Why? Who developed this? I would happily have done an entire degree in jurisprudence. We were treated like intelligent adults. 

I discovered gaps in the knowledge of my lecturers. On one occasion I found myself explaining a statistical procedure to one of my tutors. She stopped me and went to find another staff member so I could explain it to both of them. On another occasion I had to explain what language planning was - and that led to yet another thesis. It was as new an idea to the staff as law was to me but we respected each other and communicated.

I doubt any of this would have happened without face to fact contact. The "give and take" would simply not be there. I would not have mixed with my fellow students. I would not have had the thrill of one of my English language students rushing in to me and flinging her arms around me and saying, "I passed! I passed!"

University is not simply about listening to a lecture at a time which is convenient. Time spent there should be about challenging our ideas, about exchanging ideas, about searching for information and responding to questions which are set. It should be about new ideas, new arguments and discussions which stimulate these things.

"Going to lectures on line" is not going to do that. The standard here is already far too low...and about to get lower still. 

Expelled for burning

an item of clothing?

There surely has to be more to the story than we are being told but it seems that a boy in his final year has been expelled from his Catholic school for doing just that. 

If the story in the press is to be believed then he was one in a group of over twenty who took a jacket from someone in an opposing school's team and set it alight. This was not just any jacket either. It was a second hand jacket that had come from a charity shop. 

Yes, it was the wrong thing to do. The kid in question has admitted it. He is not the one who took the jacket. He was the one who, after attempts by others, managed to set fire to it. It all sounds very much like the sort of thing that can happen when a bunch of boys get together, get excited, egg one another on and then find themselves in strife. 

It doesn't make them "bad" boys. It doesn't even mean they will ever do anything like that again. That's unlikely given what has happened. But was an offence which should have resulted in expulsion? The media thinks not. 

What is particularly interesting here is that the kid in question has admitted he was wrong. He has apologised. His parents are not saying he is a little angel. The school has admitted to only two instances where he has received detention - one for throwing paper from an upper floor and the other for throwing an egg outside the school grounds. If that is the worst he has done then he doesn't sound too bad to me. He could of course be a bully, a liar, a thief or something equally awful but there is absolutely no suggestion he is any of these things. His expulsion means he cannot finish his final year at school and it means that his entire future is now in question. It is a punishment which seems to be far in excess of the crime committed.

Why the school has taken this stance is a mystery. It is the subject of a column in the paper and half the editorial. I wonder what will happen next and I am very glad I am not the school principal dealing with the situation. If he is not regretting his actions then I would wonder why he is the principal.

I can remember some misbehaviour at schools I attended. I was no saint but there was no suggestion that I be expelled for sending a paper dart from one side of the room to the other. I got detention for that - and the same number of lines to write as everyone else. (It was a far worse punishment for me as it took me a lot, lot longer to write them.) Looking back we considered the day we all threw a paper dart at the same time as "fun".

There was the occasion on which one of the most senior boys put sugar in the petrol tank of a teacher who, he felt, had humiliated him. That was dealt with by the Senior Cat quietly but firmly. The boy did not put a foot out of line again for the rest of the year. He did not come back the following year but that was his choice. He simply wanted to leave school and work on the farm. He's a grandfather now and a responsible citizen. 

Graffiti was dealt with by having to remove it - in full view of everyone else during lunch time. Fist fights were dealt with by apologies and, depending on the severity, some sort of activity which required cooperation between the warring parties. Littering meant you spent lunch time clearing rubbish. 

Had someone managed to burn an item of clothing I suspect the Senior Cat would have informed the parents of the kid involved and made the kid pay for it after the usual apologies. The parents would have backed the Senior Cat and I cannot think of any parent who, back then, would have paid for the damage themselves. It would have come out of pocket money.

So, what's going on here? This seems to have been blown out of all proportion. Unless there is something we are not being told then this is not punishment to fit a crime. It is something else altogether.    

So this is "baby food"?

I was startled to see a short article in this morning's paper about the lack of nutrition in some food which is intended to be for babies. The article complained about the high sugar content, the lack of protein and vegetables and more. It mentioned something called a "yoghurt pouch". What on earth is a yoghurt pouch?

No such things existed when I was a kitten. I was breast fed out of necessity (formula was unobtainable) and, according to what I have been told, I went on to mashed potato and mashed pumpkin. When I started teething I was given homemade "rusks". As soon as I could chew I was given the same sort of food as my parents. 

My observations and my memory suggest this was the same for all four of us. Our mother did not have the time or the inclination to make special meals for us. We really did eat what was put in front of us. I remember one occasion when I was not feeling at all well. Mum put a plate of what we called "white stew" in front of me that evening. I could not eat it. I did not want anything to eat. Of course I was not "sick". We were never allowed to be "sick". 

I sat there staring at it...and staring at it. It grew cold and the fat congealed. Eventually I was sent to bed - as a punishment for not eating. In the morning the stew was put in front of me for breakfast. I still did not eat it and was sent off to school without breakfast. This was Mum's way of handling the situation. My paternal grandmother must have been told what had happened (probably by the Senior Cat) and she turned up at school with food for me. She checked my temperature and it must have been elevated as I was, quite happily, kept quietly in the classroom during the recess and lunch break. I could read in there. What was not to like? The stew did not appear again. 

I wonder what my mother would have done now. What would she have fed us on? Would she have chosen some of those "convenience" foods on the baby shelves in the supermarket? Would she have used formula for our bottles? Was there any way she would have sent me to school without breakfast because I refused to eat that stew? 

I see young children sucking on these delightfully named yoghurt pouches. They are brightly coloured and look attractive but the contents look anything but attractive. Middle Cat's boys were given yoghurt from a very young age but it was plain yoghurt with no flavouring at all. They had Greek style "rusks" made by their Cypriot yia-yia (grandmother). Middle Cat was back at work but she still found time to feed them and her MIL made sure Middle Cat knew how to cook Cypriot style. (She made sure I knew something about it too - for which I am duly grateful.)

Someone on my regular bike route is in her late 80's now. Her granddaughter had a medical emergency recently and reluctantly left her two young children with great-grandma for a few hours. It was not something she wanted to do. They arrived with "food" and toys. They ended up in the kitchen making their own lunch after a morning spent "working" in the garden. Neither child wanted to go home. It was "fun" and every last crumb of their home-made "pizza" (slices of bread with grated cheese and tomato slices and olives toasted in the oven) was eaten. 

"I had time," their exhausted great-grandmother told me, "Do me a favour Cat and take that rubbish out while I put the kettle on."

I dropped two sugar-laden packs of something into her compost bin. The little boys did not want it. The "pizza" was "awesome". 

"So how are you going to stop them?"

The proposed "ban" on social media for those under sixteen was being discussed yesterday and that was the question being asked.

I was doing my last day for this year as a steward at our annual show - mentioned elsewhere in this blog. There were people coming in to pick up their exhibits and there was some chatter around me about the proposed ban. Most people seemed to think it would be a good idea and then, someone asked the question. It is the big question, "So how are you going to stop them?"

Yes, how do you stop under sixteens from using social media? You can try of course but how effective is "age verification"? 

I thought back to the time when I set up my "social media" account. I simply typed in the relevant information. Nobody checked. I could have lied. Presumably the government is relying on people to tell the truth about their date of birth. Quite how they plan to check I am not sure. Nobody else talking about this could work it out either - except in ways which would be highly intrusive. Even then it seems likely that any computer savvy child could bypass all this...and how do you get around the VPN issue? 

The government proposal seems to suggest that those who own things like Tik-Tok and Snapchat are going to be held responsible for ensuring that those under sixteen do not have accounts. There was general agreement yesterday that this was not the right approach. It was generally held that parents had to be responsible for this, not the service providers. This is like asking the person who grows the grapes to be responsible for the consumption of alcohol in those under sixteen. 

"It's just going to make kids want to use it even more," someone said and she may be right.

Perhaps what we need to do is look at providing substitutes for social media use among the young. I looked around at the needlework, the knitting, the crochet, the paper craft, the woodwork and more which was still awaiting collection. Perhaps we could start by involving more young people in that sort of thing?

Deep fake footage

or real?

There is a story in the paper this morning of some "footage" which appears to show the former leader of one of our political parties using an illegal substance. He denies it and says it is "deep fake". An "expert" disagrees.

Who is right? It is impossible to tell. There will be plenty of people who want to believe this is real, particularly if they vote for an opposing party. Even if someone else now came out and said, "No, I made that footage to show you it can be done" there will be people who still believe it is real.

This sort of thing is incredibly dangerous. It is has the potential to seriously damage every one of us. We need never to have done anything wrong but it will still seem as if we have done something wrong and people will believe it. 

Smear campaigns are very, very nasty. I was the victim of one. It could have been stopped immediately by a simple statement in a meeting. All it would have taken was a statement, "I was wrong and I apologise" by someone else.  The person who should have taken the responsibility to do that did nothing. Who wants to admit they are wrong and have the humiliation of saying so publicly? It is apparently easier to allow others to think badly of someone who has done no wrong. Even when a story comes out in the open and is shown to be false or wrong there are people who will believe it because they want to believe it. It suits their own agenda to believe it.

Now it is easier than ever before to harm others. How old are you before you understand what "AI" is and how to use it? Put the means in front of a child who has grown up with computers, coding, social media and anything else you care to throw in and they can almost certainly produce something like that. They may get caught out on the finer details and it may not hold up to finer examination but they may well produce something good enough to fool most of us. We will get examples of AI being used to try and sway us at the next election and it won't be pretty.

Where are we going with all this? Will every part of our lives end up being controlled by this? It's possible. That frightens me.  

"P.... has died"

the clan chief informs me in a phone call yesterday.

P... was the Senior Cat's cousin - my first cousin once removed. There is just one member of that generation now living, a cousin in his late 80's. P...was 93.

I liked P...  He was a very likeable man, a man people describe as a "gentleman". He was the MC for the second clan reunion and had everyone aware of the importance of such events and the rather extraordinary relationship between us all. 

He lived in another state, about as far away as is possible and I only saw him twice after that. The first time his wife came too. N was the one who showed me the easy way to dice a mango but N... was diagnosed with Alzheimer's not long after that. P.... visited her every day in the nursing home when he could no longer care for her at home. He was that sort of person.

He came back here once after that but it was a "farewell" sort of visit. P... would phone me occasionally to inquire after the Senior Cat and it was always a pleasure to talk to him, to find out what his family was doing. I was never sure how he had grown up to be so normal when his mother was one of the strangest and most scatty people I have ever known. Perhaps it was because she was, in her own way, also a lovely person? 

Later in the afternoon I was clearing a file of the Senior Cat's papers and I came across a photograph. There was P... and N... and the Senior Cat  - and me. We are standing on the docks and smiling. It was the last trip they made here. It was possibly my uncle who took the photo because my mother was not alive. I looked at it. Three of them gone. Photos are such strange things. They bring back memories but they are static in themselves.

I put it to one side. It is the sort of thing I don't think we can throw away.  

It is the responsibility of parents

to ensure their children are safe. It is not the responsibility of "social media".

Now let me say here that I do think social media is a problem, a very real problem, where children and young people are concerned. There is far too much time spent on it and much of what is there is harmful. That said the idea that the owners of social media should be held responsible for the harm done is rather like saying those who sell tobacco or alcohol are directly responsible for the harm done.

Tobacco and alcohol are legal and so is social media.Yes, there are age limits and penalties for supply to those underage but we are dealing with the actual physical exchange here. A shop or bar can refuse to supply those goods to anyone not in possession of a "proof of age" document. 

"Social media" is not like that. One of the big problems is that transactions on it are conducted at arm's length. There is simply no way of knowing who you are really dealing with at the other end. How on earth are you going to stop an adult obtaining a social media account and simply handing it over to a child - complete with password? 

Looking back I see how easy it would have been to do this for the Whirlwind - and do it without her father's knowledge. We were fortunate in that she simply did not want any such thing. She always used the same personal email account her father used. Even that was not often used. "I haven't got anything to hide," she would say.

I don't know how much longer that would have lasted but she appeared to be genuinely lacking in interest. The computer at home was there for homework, for finding out how to cook something, or because she had a problem in the garden. Once in a while something else would capture her attention and she would look it up but social media was not the way she wanted to operate.  "I can talk to my friends at school."

That school does have a very strict social media policy and it seems to work. It may also work because it has the very strong support of the parents. The head of the senior school once told me, "It has not been easy but it has been very worthwhile." 

Perhaps that is the problem. It is not easy to enforce such things. Does that simply mean that others should take on what should be our responsibility? 

Prohibition of something like tobacco or alcohol is a powerful way of making the demand for it even stronger. I still see younger teens smoking while in school uniform. They are clearly not of an age to have bought the cigarettes legally. My good friend M... knows that the teenagers he still keeps an eye on have sources of not just illegal drugs but alcohol as well. The same will be true of trying to ban social media or restrict it to only approved sites.

We could try the route of everyone having to prove their identity and their age to use social media but I doubt it would work. There are too many very clever people out there, often those we are trying to protect, who would find a way around it.

The best protection has to be careful parenting. Careful parenting is time consuming and asking for a degree of responsibility for one's own young. I suspect that the time and the willingness to do that is lacking.  

Walking to school

seems to be a thing of the past around here.

One of my favourite dogs was being rushed away from all the delightful smells this morning because his human had to take the grandchildren to school.

"They could walk there but my daughter won't let them. She says it is not safe. I suppose she's right but I walked to school and so did she."

I thought about this as he walked briskly off tugging at the lead of the reluctant dog.

I went to school on my own from  a very early age. I rode my little red "dinky" tricycle with my school case on the tray on the back. In my first year I went with the Senior Cat for the first few weeks and then I was on my own. We lived in a small country community and everyone knew everyone. 

I was joined by other small children walking or riding their "dinky" trikes as well. In the afternoons we reversed the journey. It was just expected we would get to and from school safely and alone. 

The following year we moved to the city. There was a lot more traffic and further to go. I could have gone to a closer school but I went to the one where the Senior Cat was teaching in the "big" school (the Primary School) and I was in the "Infants". Again he went with me for a few weeks and then I was on my own. I knew the way. I knew the road rules. It was expected I would I get there and back safely. 

Now remember this was the child who had problems standing up and who was continually falling over. The idea that I might be allowed travel alone was probably not accepted by everyone. So why was I allowed to do it?

There was no way Mum wanted to take me to and from school. She had two more under the age of five and no desire to see me to school if I could do it myself.  The Senior Cat had other responsibilities. It was considered perfectly reasonable by Mum that, rain or shine, heat or cold, I went alone. 

It never even occurred to me to make a fuss. I was just doing what children right around me were doing. Yes, some of those in the Infants were delivered by their mothers but we rarely saw a father in the school grounds. We dinky riders simply parked with the "Big School bikes" (and there were a lot of those) and went into school. 

There must have been accidents and incidents but we were largely unaware of those. The vehicular traffic was much less - and slower - than it is now. There was a great deal more foot traffic. We knew which houses we could go to for help if we needed it. Sometimes they were pointed out to us, "Mrs.... lives there. If she is home she will help" and Mrs.... would almost always be home. 

Now Mrs... would be at work or, if older, getting her own grandchildren from school in a car.  The children are being taken to "out of school" activities - if they are not waiting at school in "out of school hours care". Very few of them have the pleasure of talking to the dogs, observing the men at work, playing games with their friends on their way to and from school. My brother, who joined me the following year, and I knew a lot of people along our route. The other children were the same. We lacked a Pied Piper perhaps but there was always a trail of children which gradually grew more or less as we went to and from school.

As far as I know I was never late. I was not allowed to be "sick" because Mum, a Christian Scientist, did not believe in illness. It did not matter how I felt I simply pedalled to and from school until I was in my penultimate primary year. We moved and the school house we moved into was next to the school. All we had to do was walk over to the school. It was not the same. Getting taken to and from school in a car must be even worse.

  

"They might have to sell the house"

 the Reserve Bank Governor has warned.

As someone who is still hunting for accommodation within my budget I am, yet again, wondering what sort of stress people with families must be under.

"It's all about interest rates," someone told me a few months back. Really?

I think it is about much more than that. There is still a widespread belief in this country that you should be able to buy your own home. Within that belief there are many people who believe you should be able to buy a free standing dwelling on a fair sized block of land. That dwelling should also have at least three bedrooms, a family room, a lounge, a bathroom, an ensuite for the parents as well as a kitchen and laundry. There should be a "patio" for outdoor entertaining and the garden should already be landscaped to be as "easy care" as possible. That dwelling should also have parking for at least two cars. 

Phew! That is going to cost a bit. 

People are complaining it is harder to do this now even though both parents are working. Where people once managed on one income and one, almost always the wife and mother, stayed at home this is no longer considered possible. Why?

I know there is no easy answer to this but I do believe that part of the problem is people now believe they "have to have" and this causes them to over-extend themselves financially. They want a house which has everything they think they need and they want it now. It is not the basic structure their parents and grandparents were prepared to accept and then work on. 

A young man I know is severely dyslexic. He really struggles with reading and writing but he has always had a job. He has been prepared to do anything to earn money. While at school he had the usual sort of jobs students get but he was happy to do the less attractive jobs. When he left school he went to work for a company which unfortunately failed. Was he out of a job? He was unemployed for three days before being interviewed for another low level job. When could he start? This afternoon if they needed him. He now has a responsible position in the same firm because he was prepared to travel to work and make early starts. 

Through all this he saved. He saved all he could. He found out about what sort of home loans he might be able to get and how he might be able to pay them back. When he went to the bank he was able to show them exactly how much he thought he needed and how he could pay it back. He got the loan because he had done two things. He had, with his grandmother's help, worked out what he would do if the interest rates rose and he had shown them plans for a very modest dwelling but a dwelling he can add to later if he so wishes. All this has also been done with his relationship with a very lovely girl in mind. They will marry late next year when she has finished her course and can work full time. Like him she is prepared to wait for some of the things that others consider essential. They are prepared to put the work in. 

One of his more distant relatives commented to me, "It's terribly old fashioned of them. They could just go ahead and get it all now and save themselves all that hassle." Yes, they could but they would be in much more debt. They would be struggling to pay their debts off. This way they are managing. 

I can't help admiring them. They are resisting the pressure to have "everything" now and it seems to be working for them. I think of them when I look at yet another place...and another. I know I won't get everything I want either - even though I believe it would be nice to have it and have it now.

I skived off yesterday

and took Middle Cat off to the state's agricultural show. We ignored the horrendous packing mess for a few hours. 

Nephew Cat was actually free and took us there which made it a cheap day out. (I get two free tickets as a reward for being a steward in Handicrafts.) I packed sandwiches and some chunky pieces of tomato, cucumber and lettuce for sustenance, added some of the small apples Middle Cat has fallen in love with and plenty to drink. Food and drink is available of course but it is very expensive and not the sort of food I  want to eat.

We parted inside the gate and I headed off to Handicrafts while Middle Cat went to talk to the dogs, the cats and the goats. I could have gone with her for a short while but I dislike seeing animals penned in. (Middle Cat somehow manages to persuade owners that she is the one who can best de-stress them - and she does.) 

Handicrafts was busy. I took a seat at the information desk, answered questions, showed people where to find their items on display or where to find the items of friends and relatives. I explained how some things were made, why certain things they liked had not won a prize when other things they liked less had and was greeted by quite a few people I know in the craft world. I knew Middle Cat would turn up when she was ready to eat something and that it would be later rather than earlier.

Yes, she appeared with that dreamy "I have been talking to animals" look on her face. Yes, she liked some of the quilts on display and thought the cake decorating was "amazing" but she had not looked at the knitting, the crochet or the embroidery. We went out of the hall and found places to eat our sandwiches. Middle Cat chatted to two people here from the country who were finishing their lunch. When they left we were joined by three people. They were a bit hesitant and asked if the seats were taken. No, please join us. I could tell why instantly. The boy, about eighteen, was autistic. He was non-verbal but I sensed the noise, the people, the constant movement and bright colours were beginning to overwhelm him. Middle Cat involved his parents in conversation and left me to try and make contact with him.

Suddenly he pulled out a white cardboard box and undid it carefully. Then he showed me. It was a new mug, clearly intended for hot chocolate. Yes, he told me with gestures, it was his. He had bought it. He was obviously thrilled with his purchase. I asked him about whether he liked hot chocolate, whether he liked the colour of the mug and whether the lid was to stop the drink spilling out. He answered all this in his own way. 

Out of the corner of my eye I could see his parents, still talking to Middle Cat, watching us. Then the person they were waiting for arrived. Middle Cat and I rose to leave.  As I was turning his mother put her hand on mine and squeezed it very gently and I heard his father say, "Thanks." The boy was carefully returning his purchase into the box but he looked up and there was a proper smile on his face. It was absolutely the best part of the day.  Skiving off can pay off sometimes!

Native Title?

I had heard rumours about this but thought that at least they would be able to remain until the end of the lease. No. It seems that "native title" is more important than education and encouraging young people take part in a range of physical activities while also caring for the environment. There will be people who say that "an elite private school" should never have had access to the area anyway but they did have a lease and they used it wisely.

What this supposedly "elite private school" had access to was a small island off the coast. It was leased from the government, not the native title holders. They have come later. 

It is the native title holders who demanded an early end to the lease. They want their land back. They want it back to "reconnect spiritually" with it and "explore new cultural tourism opportunities".

The school tried to negotiate. It was not successful. 

This does not surprise me at all. It is the way anything like this is being handled. There is an immense fear of "insulting" anyone or anything which claims to be indigenous. It is easier and cheaper to give in to such demands than fight it in the courts. 

As regular readers of this blog know I am hunting for somewhere to live. It is proving very, very difficult. I discovered that one of the places I looked, a place which might just have been possible, has a tenant and that tenant has a lease until well into next year. Under the law it is not possible to remove the tenant or raise the rent (which does not cover the expense of having the tenant there). Why then is it possible for anyone to demand a lease be terminated before time simply because a "native title" claim now exists? Native title to any land did not even exist when the lease was granted.

I know someone who went to this school, her husband went to this school when it was boys only, her children went to this school, her grandchildren are going through the school and a great-grandchild will start there in the new year. They have all worked on helping to develop and care for the environment on the island. There are many other people in the same position. Nobody is saying much for fear of upsetting those claiming title over the land. They do not want to be seen as "racist" but they do wonder just how all this could happen. 

I also wonder how well the proposed plans will work. Will people really want to travel there for "spiritual re-connection" and "cultural purposes" or will we have lost another chance to teach young people that the environment matters? 

Meeting a new neighbour

as I am slowly clearing this house was yet another reason to regret having to move out.

The new "over the road" neighbour moved in the weekend before the one just gone. My mother would probably have been over there on the day with the offer of tea and freshly baked cheese scones - the latter being her specialty. I stayed out of the way being all too aware of the likely chaos when it is enhanced by a dog with a madly waving tail.

During the week which followed we never seemed to both be outside at the same time. I just left things and hoped the new owner would not think I was being unfriendly. Her immediate neighbours are pleasant enough but the parents both work and their two children never play in the street. We rarely see them.

That all changed yesterday when I was struggling to put the over loaded bin out for rubbish collection this morning. I had just put it in position when the new neighbour's car came down the road and a face smiled at me. I waited and yes, sure enough, the car door slammed in her driveway and she looked out with a cheerful,"Hi, I'm S..." 

She came across the road and I said, "I'm Cat..." We smiled at each other and I said, "I haven't interrupted because I know what the chaos can be like." 

We had a conversation. Canadian? I asked and she said "Yes, but here for years." We talked about that and why and the fact I needed to move and why. She agreed about executor companies and offered me a couple of empty boxes. "Yes please!" 

Her daughter came back from walking the dog in her lunch hour. Her daughter was friendly too - and the dog even friendlier.

Later Middle Cat arrived to collect some things. I introduced S.... who was now putting their bin out. I had told Middle Cat where this woman had worked before retirement and, such is this city, they discovered that they knew people in common. 

Why do I have to leave when the new neighbours are so nice? 

Why are we counting these people

in the next census? 

The Prime Minister has just announced that "gay, lesbian and bi-sexual" people will be counted in the next census. Why?

There is not a lot of room for questions in any census. The number of questions and what they are about is something which needs to be very carefully considered. They need to be questions which allow governments, at least to some extent, to plan for the future. 

There are questions which are obviously very important. We need to know how many people were here on the night. We divide that into residents and non-residents. We find out how old people are. These things help provide education services to the young and aged care services to the old and health care for everyone. If we know where people live then we know something about the need for power and roads. It also helps in providing services to agriculture and fishing - things which feed us.

If you ask people which language they speak at home then you can provide essential language services if the policy is to be "multi-cultural".  If you ask people if they have a disability then you can plan services to support people with disabilities. If you ask if they have any form of religious belief then you can see which religious communities are growing and what impact that might have on future policies.

But if you are gay or lesbian or bisexual or asexual or transgender or something else does it really matter? Do you really need special government services - or have you simply been led to believe you need them? Have we really reached a point where this group is somehow so disabled and disadvantaged they need a place in the census? Are we really going to need planning for vast numbers of children and young people to need gender services? 

I am in no way trying to denigrate people who are happier in same sex relationships. Why would I? I think it is so very, very good that these can now occur in this country without fear of prosecution under the law. But do these people really need additional services? What sort of additional services might they need that are not already there in the community and included in the census? Surely suggesting they do need something more is to mark them out as somehow not simply different but somehow not normal?  

I may be completely wrong about this but I know at least four same sex couples who see no point in the question.