At dawn today (30th July) mid-winter in sunny Queensland, it was zero degrees on the lawn outside our kitchen and the small water tub for our chooks was iced over.
Every morning, as soon as it gets light, Judy puts a winter coat over her jamas, adds gloves, glasses, rubber boots, a beanie and a walking stick (icy grass is very slippery). She then trudges down the hill to check any new-born lambs and then lets the sheep out of their dingo-proof night-camp into their paddock for the day. As soon as they are let out, they dribble into a long line and, led by the wisest old ewe, they wend their way across the frosty flat and then make their way up the hill to the highest point facing the morning sun.
The term "the sport of gentlemen" is most commonly associated with cricket. This phrase reflects cricket's origins and the culture of fair play, respect, and sportsmanship that traditionally surround the game. One such sportsman who displayed all of these qualities was Sir Don Bradman.
He belonged to an era when being a sportsman involved sportsmanship. Unlike so many men who identify as women and seem hell-bent on destroying sportsmanship along with fair play and display so much of that thing that gives truth to the words " It just ain't cricket. "
Playing by the rules is about decency and being a gentleman. And while being a " gentleman " as a term can be deemed in today's insane woke world as ' sexist " .... being a gentleman is so much more than a word. It is a code of living. A rule book for Life if you will. And there are no loop holes in a gentleman's rulebook.
With the latest debacle over the opening of the Paris 2024 Olympics, I find myself looking back to when we could, as Nations, do it and do it right. Politics has always been part of the game,but there was a time when the competition was fought out on the playing field, not the media.
The Olympic Games were held in Melbourne between 22nd November and 8th December, 1956. The first time they had ever been held in the Southern Hemisphere.
Australia’s sporting prowess was well known world-wide through the triumphs of our tennis players and cricketers but when it came to Olympic sports we were virtually unknown; despite our success in all Olympiads since the inception of the modern era.
The simple fact was that generally speaking Olympic sports were not huge spectator sports in Australia so the world wondered what this little nation of 9 million people and 170 million sheep at the bottom of the world was thinking about when it had the audacity to apply to stage the Olympic Games.
Read more: A Trip Down Memory Lane - the 1956 Olympic Games in Melbourne
We the people, all around the world, just witnessed one of the most morally bankrupt and depraved displays of woke exhibitionism that it is possible to have endured. What were the organisers of the Games thinking? Our young children and grandchildren sat wide eyed watching images of mockery and ridicule beamed across the planet. Men mocking women, people mocking the Christian faith and laughing at our love of normality.
What a disgraceful insulting and horrific way to " celebrate " the so called leading sports event in four years. No wonder the organisers are frantically removing videos of this appalling orgy of debased exhibitionism. They dishonoured the Church, the women and men and the children. In fact, they celebrated the downfall of humanity.
Is this what we have come to? Satanic rituals beamed across the world?
I have to ask the question: What comes next?
Read more: Going Woke and Going Broke is not just about Money... It is Morally Bankrupt as well
It was many, many years ago, we went horseback riding. In true style, Redhead ( Mum, now aged 92 ) approached this task with true grit. She had never ridden a horse since her childhood. Like most of us in the " club. "
A friend of mine went horseback riding . Up a beach on a sunny Queensland day. She trotted, galloped and felt the wind in her hair as she and her friends celebrated a birthday of a man now in his 78th year. '
It must have been glorious. A group of friends celebrating the joy of life on an open beach in the sunshine and leaving the cares of the world behind.
And it took me back to a day, about 50 years ago, when Redhead rode a horse and her bra strap broke. I republish this today for those who never read it last time. Enjoy my tale about the day my 92 year old mother was Bodicea.
Read more: A Story about Big Bright Bouncing Beautiful Boobs... and a Horse Ride
Here we are on the doorstep of the 2024 Olympics. Personally, I find them to be lacking in joy, expectation, or anticipation. For some reason I am more concerned about seeing someone keel over from a stroke or myocarditis - or worse, being attacked by rampaging thugs in the streets of Paris. Or worse......
I wonder if the games will be more opening a Pandora's Box or a very large and unpleasant can of worms.
It was 2016 when I fronted up to watch a film called " Eddie the Eagle. "
It was a story inspired by the British Olympic Ski jumper, Eddie Edwards who represented Britain in the 1988 winter Olympics in Canada.
This remarkable young man dared to do something that he knew would not end in a medal. He dared to take a Leap of Faith and give it a go.
There is only one major social media platform that is relatively free of censorship. That is X, once known as Twitter, and owned by Elon Musk, who has preached free speech for years and sacrificed billions in advertising dollars in order to protect it. If we don’t have that, he says, we lose freedom itself. He also maintains that it is the best path to finding the truth.
The crisis that broke out after the attempt on Donald Trump’s life put the principle in motion. I was posting regular updates and never censored. I’m not aware of anyone who was. We were getting second-by-second updates in real time. The videos were flying along with every conceivable rumor, many false and then corrected, alongside free speech “spaces” in which everyone was sharing their views.
During this time, Facebook and its suite of services fell silent, consistent with the new ethos of all these platforms. The idea is to censor all speech until it is absolutely confirmed by officials and then permit only that which is consistent with the press releases.
This is the habit born of the Covid years, and it stuck. Now all the platforms avoid any news that is fast in motion, except to broadcast precisely what they are supposed to broadcast. Maybe that works in most times when people are not paying attention. Readers do not know what they are missing. The trouble was that during these post-shooting hours when nearly everyone on the planet wanted updates, there were no press releases forthcoming.
Read more: During the Recent Crisis, Free Speech Worked Brilliantly
Both solar and wind energy have fatal flaws – solar stops when the sun goes down or if a cloud blocks the sun; wind fails if the wind is too strong or too weak. But every day we hear of some fantastic and expensive plan to keep the lights on when these unreliable energy twins stop work.
The latest thought bubble from Mr Bowen (the Australian Minister for Generating Blackouts) is for him to be able to drain the energy from electric car batteries to back up a failing grid. He suggests that batteries could also power the house or sell energy into the grid. (They are already scheming on how to use smart technology to prevent homeowners from charging their own batteries when flicker power is fading.)
Bowen’s sole sensible comment was “electric cars are batteries on wheels”.
It was many years ago that I first heard Kris Kristofferson's lament about Sunday Morning Coming Down. It was back in the days when I woke up with optimism and delight in my heart. Whilst I enjoyed hearing his sad song about loneliness and misery, I could not really identify with it on a mental or physical level. I was too full of the joy of life and the pleasure of what the new day would bring.
In fact, I almost enjoyed listening to his pain and being reassured that I, as a young 15 year old girl in the far off land of New Zealand had no idea what that song was about all those years ago. I truly did not.
The music of Bob Dylan and the likes were almost foreign to me, yet I enjoyed the songs and their laments about freedom and breaking chains. The worst chains I had experienced were the chains of parental dialogue: which involved me asking questions about my ability to do something and them saying " NO. "
While I was taught at school, I was taught to always question " Who? What? Where? When and Why "
Mum and Dad put food on the table and if I wanted to eat, I would sit down, shut up and eat what was put in front of me.
It never struck me until recently that this is what our governments are doing today.
Read more: It's Sunday Downunder and Normal is a Long Long Way Away..........
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