The importance of cats

in the workplace is not to be underestimated. Anyone who doubts this only needs to look at the support for "Defib". Defib is a member of the London Ambulance staff but the new station manager apparently thought Defib could be dismissed without consultation, consideration or concern for the well being of his fellow workers. There was apparently a public revolt and Defib will stay.

Seriously, animals do matter in some workplaces. There is a nursing home near here which has a resident cat. It is "just around" but the residents like "Puss". There was a similar cat in a residential school I worked in. It seemed to know which children needed company. There were occasionally disagreements about the presence of an animal and demands for her removal but commonsense always prevailed and the cat stayed.

There were no resident animals in the place the Senior Cat spent his last days in but the staff would often bring in their dogs. They were popular visitors as long as they were well under control. A close friend of the Senior Cat took her dog in too. "Oh, I am not visiting," she would tell the staff, "C... is." C... was small and elderly and happy to sit on the Senior Cat's lap and be gently stroked. They understood each other well.

The matron in charge of the place the Senior Cat's brother lived in told us that the only time they saw him smile was when a dog came to visit. I have seen similar things happen in other nursing homes.

There is a business not far from here which has a resident cat. It appeared one very hot day. Someone put down some water for it. The cat stayed. It is still there eight years later. The premises are mice free so it might be said the cat is earning her keep. She is well cared for with her own sleeping quarters and regular check ups and vaccinations at the vet. The owner of the business would be happy to pay for this but the staff all chip in as well.

Somehow it is cats who make their mark on a place. That there is an official "Chief Mouser to the Cabinet Office" at Number 10 (aka Larry) says more than people realise. There have been mentions of cats there since Henry VIII's time although not always officially recognised. 

Cats worked for the postal service for many years - and were paid for their services as mousers. They are common on railways. I remember the marmalade cat at the station of my early childhood. Mum would never let me pat it but it was actually very friendly. We children knew it was a "working" cat and treated it with respect.

It is no secret. I like cats. I get on well with cats. Yes, I often talk to dogs too, especially to dogs waiting for their humans to reappear outside the shopping centre. Cats do not need to do such undignified things as wait like that. 

The Cathedral Cats may have to wait however. Cantori, Decani, Matins and Vespers...I'll do my best to understand the next story you tell me but the humans may need to wait until Christmas.

 

 

Tea anyone?

Or would you prefer coffee?

If you have tea with me then it will currently be made with rain water and loose tea in a teapot unless you tell me you actually prefer a tea bag. Yes, I have an emergency store of the latter.

The Senior Cat insisted on what he called "proper tea". He might have had milky coffee at breakfast time but by "recess" time he wanted his  tea. The ritual also had to be repeated in the afternoon. I must have made thousands upon thousands of pots of tea in my time.

His mother taught me how to make tea in a tea pot. The tea pot she used was brown earthenware. It was old, very old. She always used the same tea - "China, not Indian" she would say. Grandma drank her tea black and without sugar.  Grandpa had milk and sugar and so did the Senior Cat. Tea was made with rainwater. The pot was warmed first and the water had to have only just reached boiling point. There was an art to tea making - interestingly told me all over again by the woman whose family owned a majority of shares in a very large tea estate.

Mum did not drink tea. She did learn how to make it "properly" but it was my job from the time she thought I could be trusted with the danger of boiling water. We kittens were not encouraged to drink tea...or coffee. Brother Cat and Middle Cat drink more coffee than tea. I have stayed with tea...milk and no sugar please.

I gave sugar away when I was teaching. The last school I worked in was the one where my classroom was next to the school office... and I was the person who had to answer the phone. Going into the staff room after that (if there was any time at all) meant finding all the milk and sugar had gone. (It was sent over from the residential section each morning.) I almost gave up tea entirely.

Going off to university I discovered the joys of tea again. It was an important part of university life. It ranked along with "Hobnobs" and "Penguins" - Upoverites will know what I am talking about. Some people had instant coffee but most of us drank tea...and more tea.  I remember A... making "builders' tea" for me. A... was the secretary to several of my lecturers...and, unofficially, cared for me too. If I came in wet and cold after school visits a mug of the dark brown liquid would appear in front of me with the instruction, "Drink that and warm up." I drank it then but I don't know I could now.

I associate tea with things like the Senior Cat and my godfather sitting at the kitchen table and reminiscing. I associate it with the Senior Cat and some world renowned magicians working out how to build an illusion. I associate it with friends who came in to laugh or cry with him and, now, me. 

I don't even ask whether I need to put the kettle on for W..., for G... or for S...  They need tea. If I offered coffee they would look at me in bewildered anxiety - no tea? 

Perhaps the best I can hope for when I have to move is that at least one of them will be able to find their way to the tea and that I will have rainwater with which to make it.  Tea is important...and they have no idea how to make it in any local cafe. 

"She wears her collar up,"

I was told. I knew what the speaker meant and it was not intended as a compliment.

The speaker was an old acquaintance from my student days. At the university in question there was a sort of "dress code" I suppose. The vast majority of students were aware of it.  

It only applied to one item of clothing and that was the polo shirt. There were a lot of polo shirts around at the time. I had three... one on, one off and one in the wash. They were made of the sort of material that did not need too much care and attention. Yes, convenient when you are spending sixty or seventy hours a week at lectures and then in the law library. 

You could look up from your case notes and see the students either side of you wearing something similar. Mine were sober colours I suppose. Fire engine red, sun yellow, sunset orange and other bright colours do not suit me but there were plenty of those to be seen. Mine were blue and green and navy. I had actually bought mine before returning to university.  I had no idea there was any sort of "code" attached to the wearing of them.

"Where did you go to school?" I was asked. I explained because it is often something students there did want to know. This was my first day and I did not want to appear stand offish or unwilling to engage in conversation.

"Oh, then I am just letting you know that you are supposed to wear your collar up," my informant kindly told me.

I must have looked as puzzled as I felt. Why would I wear my collar up? It sounded uncomfortable to me. Collars like that are made to sit, not stand.

"It means you have been to a fee paying school," I was told. Really? That was enough for me to leave my collar down. I couldn't care less what sort of school you went to. It is much more interesting to find out what sort of person you are.

I have no idea whether the practice continues. I hope not. It is a long time since I have been back. 

But among those I grew to be particularly friendly with nobody wore their collars up. Some of us may have had the "right" to do so but we chose not to do it.  We never really discussed it then but we understood it. All these years later we do not need to say more than someone "wears their collar up" to understand what sort of person we are talking about.  

We were saying "No"

this time last year, "No" to the "Voice to Parliament" for "indigenous" people.  Saying "No" cost the country more than a billion dollars in the end. The referendum alone was expensive.

The cost of that could have been greatly reduced by holding it at the same time as an election.  It would surely be a very good idea to hold more referenda at the same time as elections?

I can imagine this. You enter the polling station and make the declaration you have not voted before in this election and the electoral official hands over the voting papers. You head off and mark them and put them in the boxes holding the ballot papers under the watchful eye of yet another official. Would it really be that hard to add a question at the same time? It has been done of course - and no doubt it will be done again.

So, why didn't they do it this time? There were reasons of course. Most of them had to do with "keeping a promise" if you believe the Prime Minister. Yes, there was a lot of political pressure - mostly from within his own party. The media did not help of course. It never does. 

And then there was arrogance. How could the proposal possibly fail? I was reminded of the vote for this country to "become a republic". Those who failed to get it up like to say it was the way the question was asked. No, it was not. It failed in every state and territory as well as across the country. The majority was not there and those advocating for it knew that. They insisted on going ahead anyway. They tried to tell us that it was a "simple" matter, that it was about "growing up" and "being truly independent". It was all nonsense of course. There would have been a massive shift in the way we are governed. Looking at events in America right now I am glad we did not go down that path even if others still advocate for it.

Last year's referendum was the same. There was no way this was going to fail was there? The demands grew louder and more strident as time went on. How dare we vote against it? To do so would be "racist" and cause more "division". We would not be "acknowledging" the wrongs of the past.

It seems we have not actually manage to learn the lesson. States our still going ahead with "treaties" and "truth telling" and "voices". All this is doing is continuing to fan the flames of discontent among the activists who like to claim "disadvantage". Yes, there is disadvantage out there but it is being perpetuated by those very activists who insist on holding others back.  

It is not special recognition that indigenous people need. They need the same recognition...and perhaps the so-called "Voice" would have denied them that. I don't know but I still think we are approaching the very real issues from the wrong angle.

"I'll save you the price of

an inspection," one of the other viewers of a property tells me. 

I had already observed him looking in places that most people do not bother to look. He showed me. Yes, I could see the crack now he was pointing it out. It had been carefully papered over but, viewed from another angle, it was obvious. Then there was the damp place in the bathroom/laundry area and under the sink. I could smell those. He went on to point out some further issues.

"Don't buy it," he told me, "If you don't believe me...I am about to withdraw my own offer."

Moments later I heard him quietly informing the agent just that. I simply thanked the agent and left. Out in the street the other man was just getting into his car. I thanked him too but wondered what his motivation was.

He must have been able to read my thoughts because he said, "Oh, I know who you are. My neighbour told me you were looking for something.... I am looking for a single mother - one of my wife's clients. She really needs something but not that." 

We discussed the problem briefly. He went one way and Ipedalled off another.  I looked at the other place within pedalling distance but there are two steps at the front and four at the back. I can calculate whether there is room for a ramp by now... and there is no room. That might sound fussy but I really am not capable of taking the laundry basket down steps - even if it is only part full. Middle Cat could not even get up and down the steps the way she is right now.

And that brings me to thoughts of the laundry basket itself. I have mentioned it elsewhere. It is made of cane and came out of the Royal Society for the Blind workshop set up after WWII. It is close to eighty years old. 

My BIL recently said, "Why don't you get a new one?"  

No, it works perfectly well...and I might need the money for a building report if there is nobody around to save me the money. 

"It was the size of a brick"

a friend reminded me. We were looking at an old mobile 'phone and talking about one which was even older.

The one we were looking at was about the size of a thick Penguin paperback I suppose. It was certainly larger and thicker than those owned by my family and friends now.

I remember the phone she was talking about. It belonged to our late friend I... . I...worked at the airport and the phone in question was one of the very earliest phones available. It was not really quite the size of a brick but it was big. It was not something you could have carried around in your pocket.

From memory all you could do was make and receive calls on it. I do not remember seeing a screen. It was more like a "walkie-talkie". Very few people had one and the range seemed to be limited. That is about all I can remember - except that it made I...'s job both easier and more difficult.

Now it seems everyone has a phone and the use of them is causing problems. This country is intending to try and bring in a "social media ban" for those under the age of sixteen. This is intended to prevent them from accessing harmful content, bullying each other, becoming obsessed with them and much more. It is unlikely to work, especially as the tech companies are to be held responsible rather than the parents.

That made me consider the issue of adults and their phone use. Phones are much smaller now. Middle Cat can clip hers to a holder in the car and use it "hands free". If it rings while she is driving the identity of the caller comes up on a screen and she can choose to  accept or reject the call. All this is legal but I do not like it. I still see it as a distraction. 

And so many people still use their phones in the normal hand held way when they are in the driver's seat. They have one hand on the wheel and one on the phone. That conversation simply cannot wait. It may be about the most trivial matter in the universe but the conversation needs to be held there and then. 

I think it would be good if phones were as big as bricks again.  

Clearing out

"stuff" - or, dare I say, my BIL uses a much less polite word? His language might be described as "earthy" at times.

He also tends to "speak his mind" or simply say exactly what he is thinking. 

I had a number of very old photographs on the kitchen table and he picked them up, "You don't want these do you?"

"Yes, I do."

"What for?"

"Well that one is my paternal great-grandmother on her eighty-fifth birthday."

"Yeah, so what?"

"It is part of our family history and she was a very special person, very advanced in her thinking."

"She went to university?"

"No, you don't need to go to university to have ideas ahead of your time. For example, she voted in the very first elections women could vot in and she encouraged other people to do the same." 

My BIL looks disbelievingly at me but I know Great-Grandma's history. Yes,  she voted. She made sure everyone around her was enrolled to vote and that they went to do it. This state was the first to allow women the vote and she made sure women used it. She also made sure that the indigenous people she employed were enrolled, understood what they had to do and also "attended the ballot box". It might not have made her too popular with the men who had opposed the idea of allowing woman and "aboriginals"to vote but she believed in it. She also believed in equal pay for equal work, even if she did keep their post office pass books in her possession because the men tended not to give their wives the money she thought they needed to feed and clothe the children. 

So yes, I do want the photograph of my great-grandmother. I want the other photographs too. There are not many. Other people may not be interested but I am. Just because my BIL tells me I need to "get rid of stuff" does not mean I have to give away the really important things...and that photograph is very important to me.