G'day! Pull up a chair! Join me at the kitchen table for a chat...let's toss a few thoughts around about the state of this crazy but wonderful world we inhabit. There's lots to discuss! Make yourself comfortable! Would you like a glass of wine?
Where to begin…sitting at my
keyboard, I guess this is as good a place as any to start. Below I’ve expressed
some personal thoughts in three poems I penned…
ANZAC Day Dawn Service 25th April, Elephant Rock, Currumbin
Time certainly is flying by
at a rapid rate of knots.At the pace
it’s going, if it doesn’t watch out, it’ll be booked for speeding. Perhaps that
would be a good thing, making time slow down a bit. Don’t look now but, very
soon we’ll be half way through 2023!Someone removed the sand from the hourglass and replaced it with
quicksilver aka mercury when we weren’t looking, or when we were sleeping.
On Tuesday, just passed by, 25th
April, once again, ANZAC Day fell…a special day here in Australia when we
honour our men and women of the Australian Defence Force, and those of our best
mates from across “The Ditch” (New Zealand)…who fought, and fight. alongside us…past
and present.
From the Elephant Rock Dawn
Service held at the Gold Coast’s Currumbin Beach, through to the afternoon (AET)
in witness to the Villers-Bretonneux Dawn Service in Northern France, tears
filled my eyes constantly…tears that overflowed frequently. As time goes by the depth of my emotions felt never
lessen.As time goes by, we must never
forget the valiant deeds of our men and women of the Forces. They deserve, and are
worthy of our gratitude and our respect.
It’s very disturbing humans
still haven’t learnt, nor heeded, lessons from past horrors. Are we slow
learners, or just plain ignorant?
Old-fashioned, I am…and old,
am I.Both are impossible to disguise. So
be it.
In years of yore, back in
the 1700s to be exact, (I wasn’t around then, if that’s what you’re thinking) author,
Jonathan Swift, in a moment of great wisdom said, “Everything old is new
again…” Further along the track, Aussie entertainer,
the late Peter Allen, played and sang the similarly named song, while also
kicking up his heels, and all that jazz. As time went by, I forwent kicking up my
heels.
Once upon a time, Friday
night dances were held in local halls. On
Friday nights, Gympie’s (the town in which I spent my childhood and teenage years)
RSL Hall was a hive of energy.The
young, old and “in-betweeners” clad in their Friday night finest crowded the
floor while performing the Fox-Trot, Quickstep, Waltz, the fun Progressive Barn
Dance etc., etc, et al.Over in a far
corner those feeling hip dodged the Quickstep, and chose to jive away to a
rocking beat. Each Saturday night country dances in the outer realms were well attended,
too. The dances were not to be missed. And, then, to add to the fun, record
hops became hip. No wonder we were trim, taut, and terrific back in the day. As
time has flown by, the trim, taut, and terrific part has passed by. I’m
referring to me, of course. I’m no longer a spring chicken…these days I’m an old
winter hen!
Much time has gone by since
hula hoops became the craze of the day. Every kid in town, including me, had a
hoop. Yo-yos made their resurgence around the mid-50s.Between hoops and yo-yos, we kids of the era
enjoyed loads of fun timesSpinning, twirling, and defying gravity
simultaneously became challenges worth attempting. We didn’t care if we tripped
up. As time went by, with practice, every now and then, we mastered the feat,
with both feet still on the ground, and our pride intact.
Upon a shelf here my high
school Oxford Dictionary sits gathering dust, as does my Pitman’s Shorthand.Both, like me, are ancient.As time’s gone by, I guess, shorthand is old
hat, too.
Returning to ANZAC Day…I was
a “goner” from the commencement of the Elephant Rock Dawn Service. It was a bleak, cool, damp early morn. Amongst
the crowd a father and his young daughter sat. The child looked like she was around
the age of seven years, give or take. The
little girl, curled up on her father’s lap, snuggled up closely, hugging him and
nestling her head under her father’s chin. Holding her close, the love shared between the
father and his little daughter was palpable. The scene tore at my heartstrings. My unexpected,
uncontrollable tears flowed freely. Suddenly,
like a giant boulder, the reason for my feelings of deep sorrow hit me. Not once
in my life have I ever experienced the loving arms, the tender embrace of my father’s
arms around me. He never played a role in
my life, other than the obvious one of how I was created. My late brother and I never knew our father…and,
likewise, he never knew us. Our parents separated
when my mother was pregnant with me. That
sight of the little girl and her father really struck me. Sad, though, it was (for me)…it was a beautiful
moment….one, I know, I will vividly remember….
As time goes by…the memories,
and the thoughts, the wondering do not diminish, nor do they go away…..
Quick Chick: Preheat
oven 220C. In bowl, combine 1tsp salt, 1tsp paprika, 1/2tsp garlic powder,
1/2tsp thyme, oregano, parsley, or other herbs of choice, and 1/4tsp ground
black pepper. Coat 4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts in 1tbs olive oil; generously
rub spice mix over chicken; place chicken in baking dish; cook 20-25mins, until
cooked through.Rest a few mins, then
serve.
Chicken Stroganoff: In pan heat 1tbs olive oil; add 600g diced chicken breast or thigh; cook
on high heat, 5mins, stirring, to brown all over. Tip chick and juice onto plate.
Lower heat; add small knob of butter to pan; melt; add 1 diced onion and 100g sliced
mushroom; cook 3mins, until lightly browned. Add 2 crushed garlic cloves, 3tsp smoked
paprika, salt and pepper, to taste, plus chicken and juices; cook over low heat,
3mins, or so. Add 150ml sour cream; heat gently; don’t boil. Turn off heat; add
2tbs chopped parsley. Serve with cooked rice, pasta, mashed spuds or crusty bread,
and green vegetables.