DON’T STOP THE MUSIC...

 

Presently, there is a battle going on here at my desk...between Shama, my female cat, and me.  Shama is insisting on taking over the computer – my computer, by the way, not hers!  I think she believes she has a better tale to tell than I have.  She has a tail...I’m not sure about the “tale”.   Maybe she has a better story to tell...perhaps I’ll let her take over the keyboard next week, but this week I shall retain control!  Who is the boss in this household?  Okay! Okay! I know my place!  It’s not me!  Obviously, I’m a very slow learner if I’m only waking up to this fact now!  Remy and Shama are often snuggled up together on the bed, giggling about my denseness.

Sadly, on 20^th March, 2020, at the age of 81 years, country singer, songwriter, record producer, actor, entrepreneur Kenny Rogers shuffled off this mortal coil.  Fortunately, Kenny didn’t pack up his music and take it with him.  He left it behind for the rest of us to enjoy forever more.

After telling “Ruben James”...”Don’t Fall in Love with a Dreamer”...Ruben, who was unfairly referred to by some as the “Coward of the County”, did the exact opposite to what Kenny advised. 

Alas! Ruben James ran off with “Lucille”.

 “She Believes in Me”, Ruben yelled out at the inquisitive “Lady” next door who was furtively peeking through her curtains.  

“Ruby, Don’t Take Your Love to Town”, his constant pleas to his first love, had fallen on deaf ears.  Ruby’s excuse for running out on Ruben was she didn’t like the similarity of their names.  For her, it caused too much confusion.   

Rumour has it she ran off with “The Gambler”.  Very soon those two became like “Islands in the Stream”...with no one in between...

For years, from the late 50s forth, Kenny Rogers selflessly shared his wonderful music with the world; and, more particularly after he embarked on his very successful solo career.  However, he didn’t do it alone all of the time. 

Kenny took a gamble, and shared the stage and recording studios with others. His memorable duets with Dolly Parton and Sheena Easton remain dear to our hearts, especially when he sang side by side with the one and only Dolly. Even though he had told Sheena, “We’ve Got Tonight”... he wasn’t cheating on one with the other.

A memory of an evening back in mid-1995 at Collinsville’s Town and Country Hotel-Motel (now called ‘The Pit and Pony” in honour of the ponies that were once used, many years ago, to venture underground at the coal mine) always brings a smile to my face.

I was the well-patronised hotel’s cook, catering for the hungry hordes’ breakfast, lunch and dinner needs seven days a week. 

The tavern boasted a large public bar, which included four pool tables.  A doorway led to an expansive function/dining room that ran the length of the rear section of the hotel. The room also had a long bar, a further two pool tables, and four or five poker machines.  A small restaurant with seating for around 30 diners was off to the side of the main dining/function area.

Across a driveway at the rear of the building were...from memory....10, maybe 12, motel rooms, and the owners’ accommodation. 

Most weeks, at times twice a week, live musical entertainment from far afield, mostly country music artists, performed in the large room.  Those crowded nights were lots of fun, filled with great music, and happy patrons. 

One evening...I forget who the visiting performer and his backing group were...during one of their breaks, a local likely lad of around 21 years took over the mike.  He was the son of a couple who owned and operated the sole take-away shop up the street a bit. 

Grabbing his moment in the spotlight, the young bloke was prepared to make the most of his stolen moment...and make the most of it, he did. 

Full of Dutch courage, beer bravado, and/or rum spirit, perched on a chair in front of the microphone, the blonde-haired lad commenced singing Kenny Rogers’ “The Gambler”. 

At first nobody took much notice of him, but then the crowd realised they were witnessing a unique performance.  Unaccompanied, he had the lyrics and melody down pat.  He didn’t need musical backing.  

Everyone, including the visiting musicians, was held in awe of his rendition, proven by the lengthy applause he received at the end of his faultless interpretation.

The young fellow probably has forgotten that night, and his flawless, entertaining performance....but I haven’t.  

I can still see it as clear as if the spotlight is still beaming upon him... I can still hear his interpretation as if the microphone was switched on....

Some of the best times I've had in my life, to this point in time, were when I lived and worked in Collinsville...the coal-mining town in the coal-rich Bowen Basin, which contains Australia's largest coal reserves.    For me, such fun times will not be repeated, nor will they be replaced....

Addendum:  Prior to working at Collinsville's Town and Country Hotel-Motel, I was the chef/manager, in the employ of the Morris Corporation (aka Morris Catering), who held the contract with Mount Isa Mines.  Mount Isa Mines Limited operates the Mount Isa copper, lead, zinc and silver mines near Mount Isa, Queensland, Australia. as part of the Glencore group of companies.  My job, and that of my staff was to feed the hungry single miners, both in the Mess/Canteen, as well as supply meals to them at the mine..."Collinsville Coal"...plus manage the single men's quarters....accommodation. I had relocated, within the company, from Glenden,  In the early 1980s (a decade before I moved there) Glenden was constructed by Mount Isa Mines to provide accommodation for workers at their Newlands coal mine....and their families.  The town is 30kms from the mine.  

The family of one of my staff members owned a large cattle station between Collinsville and Bowen. When the pit ponies finally retired from mine duty in 1990, they spent their well-earned retirement years leisurely grazing on the cattle station, sharing their stories with the beef cattle   The pit ponies play a very important role in Collinsville's history.

Country Brekkie: Cook 4 bacon rashers, cut into 2-1/2cm pieces, until crisp; drain, leaving about 2tbls of drippings in pan. Add 1.2c chopped onion and 6c cubed frozen hash browns, or fresh potatoes, to pan; stir to coat in drippings; cook 2-3mins. Add 1/4c water; cover. Cook 15 mins or until soft; flip once or twice. When you let the potatoes sit without flipping, they get nice and brown; stir in 1minced garlic clove; cook 1min; season. Make 4 wells in spuds, exposing pan base; crack an egg in each. Cover pan; cook over low heat 8-10mins. Sprinkle shredded cheddar and bacon on top during last couple of minutes; sprinkle with chopped shallots; serve.

Breakfast Quesadillas: Whisk 6 eggs, 1/4c milk, salt and pepper; add ½  green capsicum, diced; stir to combine (If you prefer softened capsicum, sauté in a little butter before adding to eggs); set aside. In a large pan, melt 2tbs butter over med-heat; add egg mix; cook until no longer runny, stirring often; remove to a plate. In same pan, melt 2tbs butter over med-heat. Using 6 soft tortilla shells, place 1 soft tortilla shell in middle of pan. Top with shredded cheese, leaving a ½ inch border around tortilla. Spread eggs in an even layer on top of cheese, followed by bacon and a sprinkling of more cheese, if desired. Place second tortilla shell on top of egg mixture; lightly press down. Heat 2-3min on both sides, or until shell is slightly golden and cheese has melted. Repeat with remaining tortilla shells. Serve immediately. 

Country Oatmeal Cake: Preheat oven 175C. Grease or spray 9″ x 13″ cake pan with cooking spray. Mix 1c quick oats and 1-1/4c boiling water together bowl; set aside. Sift 1-1/3c plain flour, 1tsp baking soda, 1tsp salt and 1tsp cinnamon; set aside. In bowl of mixer, using blade attachment, mix 1/2c (113g) butter and 3 eggs together on medium speed for about 1min.  Add 1c light brown sugar, 1c white sugar and 1tsp vanilla; mix on medium speed until mixture is light and creamy – about 1min.  Add about half of flour mixture while mixing on low speed; followed by the soaked oats; then add other half of flour; mix on low just until the dry ingredients are incorporated. Pour the mixture into prepared pan.  Bake 30-35mins until toothpick inserted into the centre comes out clean.  While cake is baking, prepare topping:  Place 1c light brown sugar, 1/4c cream, 1/4c milk and 4tbs butter in pan over medium heat.  Stir, and bring to boil. Remove from heat; add 1c shredded coconut. Mix well with large spoon.  Spread mixture onto hot, cooked cake.  Place under grill for about 1min until topping starts to bubble, and the coconut begins to turn a golden colour; keep a close eye on it!!!  Serve cake at room temperature...or slightly warm.

PARADISE LOST....PARADISE FOUND....WHAT IS PARADISE? No.2

Paradise has a different meaning to each one of us, I suppose.  For me...not being a religious person...i.e. a person who manifests devotion to a deity...I don’t look upward believing paradise to be behind the clouds...beyond the wide blue yonder.  

Of course, I could be wrong. I’m wrong about many things. There is always someone at the ready to point out that fact.  This is not to say I don’t look upwards to see if it’s going to rain...or to growl at the endless expanse above when something goes awry...or because of the widespread stupidity and hypocrisy that engulfs our world on a daily basis, unfortunately.

To some paradise is a sacred dream of perfection...of supreme bliss.  Both are impossible to find on planet Earth presently...if they ever were, or, even more disturbingly, and sadly, ever will be.  Humans prove time and time again, they never learn from past mistakes.  It’s about time humans did!

Paradise is where love outweighs hate; where peace replaces violence; where empathy is the permanent substitute for apathy.  Paradise is where common sense is the norm.

Paradise is where respect for one’s fellowman reigns, no matter their creed, culture or colour of their skin; where human life is valued most highly.  It is where cowards do not exist.

Paradise is where children are not harmed in any way; where children are valued, loved and nurtured.

Paradise is where all people are equal; where prejudice doesn’t exist; where self-esteem is encouraged, and held precious.

Paradise is to be able to laugh - openly, freely, joyfully...but not at the expense of another, or others. 

Paradise is where poverty doesn’t exist; where greed is unknown. 

Paradise is where corruption, duplicity and deceit are non-existent; where the only games played are those played in sports’ arenas, on playgrounds, in the yard, or in the manner of board games around the dining or kitchen table.

Paradise is for everyone throughout the world to be free...to be free to live in democratic societies; where one is allowed, and encouraged to be an individual; to have the right to be an individual without fear of reprisal. 

Paradise is a civilised world, free of chaos; a world filled with civilised people behaving civilly...and kindly towards each other.

Paradise is to live in harmony with nature and animals....

Paradise for me is also a place where no flies and sand flies/midges exist.  I guess that rules Tin Can Bay out.  When we used to visit Tin Can Bay during my childhood I was the main food supply source for the sand flies. They loved feasting on me.  I’m sure they flew around in circles doing a joyful jig every time I arrived at the Bay. To them, my presence was paradise.

From what I’ve expressed above, I guess some would say I live in a Fool’s Paradise.  That’s fair enough...they could be right.  On the other hand, they could be wrong.  

Paradise is not being dictated to, or dictating to.

Paradise is where morality is held in high stead; where the right principles of human conduct are exhibited and adhered to; where justice, fair play, decency, and ethical conduct are of the greatest importance.   

Paradise is a place – tangible or intangible - of beauty, not ugliness.

Paradise is a state of happiness, and of peace; where fairness is paramount...

Paradise is where crime in all its forms and guises is non-existent...

Imagine John Lennon’s lyrics.   Imagine the words of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow....where troubles melt like lemon drops...”   

Imagine living our lives by the sentiments of both songs. That would be paradise! 

Yep!  And for me...as long as Cherry Ripes, Connoisseur chocolate-coated ice creams on a stick are included...and my two furry mates, of course.  The three of us living in a little cabin on the foreshore with an uninterrupted ocean...and no nearby neighbours!

Chocolate Paradise Pie: Preheat oven 175C.  Melt 3tbs butter; add 1/3c digestive biscuit crumbs and 3tbs sugar. Combine well. Transfer to 946ml ovenproof dish. Press firmly into base. Top evenly with 1/3c choc chips. Bake until chocolate melts; spread melted choc out smoothly. Combine in bowl, 1/c plain flour, 1/4c sugar, 3/4tsp baking powder; add 1tsp vanilla, 1/3c milk, 1tbs canola oil; mix on low until smooth. Still on low, add 1/3c choc chips, 1/4c shredded coconut and 1/4c crushed walnuts. When thoroughly mixed, pour over crust. Bake, uncovered, 35-40mins. To serve; top pie with ice cream, and/or hot fudge and caramel toppings; sprinkle with walnuts.

Paradise Slice: Grease 20cmx20cm tray tin generously with butter. In bowl, using fingers, rub 225g plain flour and 115g butter together until it resembles bread crumbs. Stir through 30g caster sugar before adding 1 lightly beaten egg. Mix until combined into a soft pastry. Roll pastry to the size of greased tin; transfer to baking tray; push pastry into edges; trim excess: prick pastry all over; line with greaseproof paper; top with dry baking beans. Blind bake 5 mins in 190C oven. Remove beans; evenly spread 3 or 4tbs raspberry jam over pastry. Cream 115g butter and 115g caster sugar until light and fluffy; add 1 lightly beaten egg; mix until combined. Add 80g quartered glace cherries, 120g currants and 150g ground almonds; mix well. Spread evenly over pastry, edge to edge. Bake 30mins. Take from oven; sprinkle caster sugar on top; cool in tin. When cool, remove from tin; slice. 

IT ALL BEGAN WITH THE MAN IN THE IRON MASK!

With masks suddenly and unexpectedly having become the latest fashion accessory my mind darted off into fun childhood games of the distant past. 

When we were kids, my brother, Graham and I were always tearing around the place pretending to be one super hero, or another.  Bare-footed, free and happy as larks, we soaked up the sun and fresh air, as we allowed our imaginations to run wild.

The Lone Ranger and Tonto featured often in our games.  Batman, and his side-kick, Robin had more than their fair run.  Somehow, I never got to be Batman.  Robin was the role I played. 

Although mask-free, Superman, the Man of Steel flew in often, not always wearing his red undies on the outside.  

Even Mighty Mouse, as flighty as he was, landed in our yard, interrupting his flight to elsewhere. 

The Phantom, of course, paid regular visits disguised as my brother, or was it the other way round?   

Who didn’t love The Phantom, the Ghost Who Walks?  We certainly did! Who didn’t wear a Skull ring?  We did. Who had a Skull Cave?  We did.  The cave was anywhere we imagined it to be.  Many adventurous games we played disguised as The Phantom. 

Joining the fun, with his top hat perched on his head, and his cloak flying in the breeze, Mandrake the Magician magically appeared, too.   He was full of tricks, with even more up his sleeve. 

Davy Crockett didn’t wear a mask, but it was impossible to mask our admiration of Davy. A mask would not have helped disguise him.  Davy’s distinctive hat was a dead give-away.  

I ‘fess, after we went to the Saturday matinees to watch Fess Parker play the role of Davy Crocket, the King of the Wild Frontier, there wasn’t a kid in town who didn’t create his/her own Davy Crocket hat, or cajole Mum into purchasing one.  Ours weren’t made of coonskin, but the nearest simulated pelt made do.  That hat did wonders for us and our imagination-filled games as we tore around the yard, sometimes gaining stone bruises along the way. 

Our backyard laundry became the Alamo. Using poetic licence, we altered history to suit.  We escaped our mortality at the hands of the Mexicans, and lived to play out more exciting, fun days. Wearing a Davy Crockett hat added unmatched bravado-filled adventure to our adventures.  We feared nothing...we were invincible.

This should go without saying...when I wasn’t demoted to being Batman’s off-sider, Robin, I grabbed the bullwhip and morphed into the one and only...Catwoman!   

Ahhhh!  She was my heroine!  

Intrepidly, I’d slide down the railings of our high front stairs, sometimes swinging off the side onto the concrete garden path, or onto the fern-filled garden beneath the stairs. 

Fortunately, the crushed ferns bounced back before Mum noticed the disarray.  Somehow, I managed not to get splinters in my hands, or elsewhere.

  

Catwoman ruled the world!   So what if I all I frightened away were the Wanderer butterflies and little common garden skinks!  My imagination was what mattered...an imagination that was wild and audacious!

The weirdest home-made mask I created was a powdered milk face mask. 

In 1972 the brain-shattering brainwave came to me. At the time I was living in a townhouse in Toowong, an inner western suburb of Brisbane.  

I was plastered...not with alcohol...but with my stiff, set hard, immovable powdered milk face mask.  

As I stood at my bathroom sink trying to remove - yank - the stubborn mask off my face, Sasha, my ginger cat decided to assist.   He thought it a fun moment to be shared with me! 

Leaping onto the sink, without hesitation, Sasha began to enthusiastically eat the cement-like mask from my face.   He was extremely annoyed when I shoo-ed him away!   Sasha was determined to assist, but I won the battle, both against him and removal of the obstinate facial mask! 

Since that particular Saturday - that one and only time - I learned my lesson.  Never again have I bothered with facial masks of the powdered milk variety, or any other kind.  I allow drinking lots of water to do its trick.

What you see is what you get if or when we cross paths.  My apologies if I scare the living daylights out of you, but my face is the real deal...no tucks; no nips...no mask...just me, as is!  Sorry!

Powdered Milk Buns: Dissolve 1-1/4tsp active dry yeast in 1/4c warm water in small bowl; let stand until foamy. In large bowl, combine 3/4c warm milk, 1 large egg, 1/4c softened butter, 1/4c sugar and 1tsp salt; stir well; stir in yeast; add 3c plain flour; gradually add a little more flour until dough gathers together into a ball as you stir.  Turn dough onto floured surface; knead 6-10mins, until smooth, elastic and stretches thinly. Place in bowl; cover; let rise 1 to 1-1/2hrs, until doubled. Gently deflate dough; use sharp knife to divide into 50-55 portions of about 1-1/2 inches; shape each into a smooth ball; arrange close together on greased 9x13-inch baking pan; cover loosely; let rise, 1hr. Combine 1/2c sugar and 1/2c powdered milk. Brush tops with egg wash. Sprinkle half of milk-sugar mix over risen buns; bake in preheated 175C oven, 17-20mins, or until buns are golden. Cool buns slightly; then sprinkle with remaining powdered milk-sugar mixture.  

Powdered Milk Pedas: Heat heavy based pot on med-low heat. Add 3tbs butter or ghee; once melted, pour in 1x397g can condensed milk and 1/4tsp almond extract; stir. Add 2-1/4c powdered milk in two parts.  Add half; stir to combine; add 1/8^th tsp ground cardamom, and other half milk powder. Stir mixture until it feels slightly stiff; let cool a minute or two before rolling.  Rub some oil or melted butter on a plate. When mixture has cooled, rub some melted butter on both palms. Use a small spoon to scoop out about 1tsp mixture; roll into a ball; slightly flatten with palms; place on oiled plate. Continue to roll pedas, buttering hands as you go. Work quickly before mixture cools. Garnish each peda with pistachios or almonds. Let cool a few hours to firm up