The PR Blog

When I was a kid, we used to play a game called “ stacks on the mill “. It essentially meant that a kid would lie down and the rest of us would jump on and form a pyramid and chant “ stacks on the mill, more on still “ until the pile of kids collapsed and the poor kid at the bottom of the stack would be able to breathe again. To the best of my knowledge, it referred to the collapse of a mill stack or chimney which would be destroyed under its’ own weight.

It was a great game to play – unless you were the poor bugger at the bottom of the stack.

It reminds me of what is happening in the world today with world population and the importation of “ refugees “ and economic migrants from Third World Nations.

We are the poor bugger at the bottom of the stack and soon, we will collapse from the sheer weight of numbers. But, when it was my childhood game, it was game over. Today, it is the start of the game.

The current immigration from other countries to our countries is unsustainable. We cannot ever be robust enough to withstand the sheer pressure of the weight of numbers that is overwhelming us. Is that what “ they “  want?

I would like to thank people who have expressed concern  with regard to my accident.   But what I would really  like to bring home to everyone who has one of those plastic foot step stools in the house is to dump it now before  an accident occurs.  

 We need something to give us a little extra height , but we oldies are told don't get up on a stepladder, don't climb onto a chair to do anything that requires  extra height.   No one tells us where we can find at a moment's notice a helping hand to help with a particular chore.  

Without a friendly neighbour, I don’t quite know what would have happened to me.   I could not get to the telephone.

My Mum, has had a fall.

Some months ago, I wrote an article for this blog about when my Mum was in the middle of a bushfire alert and, at midnight, I did not answer the phone. Given that my Mum is 87, lives alone, how dreadfully irresponsible I was for not leaping to the telephone just in case it was my Mum, letting me know that she was about to be burned to a crisp and she thought it would be a jolly good time to remind me that I hadn’t cleaned my car for 2 years. Or that she was not about to be burned to a crisp but was heading off to the beach with the neighbours, given that the roads were closed.

An email I recently received contained some very interesting maps. If you have an interesting map, please feel free to add it to the article in the comments section.

If it works well, maybe we could have a weekend slot for interesting things?

I read the article and I have to admit that I found it hard to understand, It goes against all the stories I had grown up knowing about the horrors that the Australian soldiers faced at the hands of the Japanese. Starvation and ill treatment were the order of the day, Imprisoned in cages for some misdemeanor. Building railways , working with very little food, skeletons doing hard manual work, falling by the wayside and either they died or got up and tried again. I have to honestly say that I believe what was told following those dreadful days when they were finally released and saved.