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written under demand in two minutes

Brian Brandenburgh of Wynnum Writers meeting on the 3rd November 2009, requested the profile of a place to be written within two seconds and this is what I wrote:
Brian wants me to write a paragaph about a place, a description of it. There have been many places, so which one? How about the Murchison? Now there's a place. Spring is out of this world in the Murchison. The red soil, stunted mulga trees, winding creek beds lined with eucalyptus and coolibahs; sandy and dry, but now after winter rains, the red soil is smothered with wildflowers. Pink and white everlastings, yellow belly buttons, mauve and green mulla mulla and even that exotic rosy dock. Budgies land on the brilliant red sturt peas turning them to green.

The Sacred Volume Of Law Prospective On Wealth
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Today at 21:29

Colleen O'Grady
David M Lindsey: The Sacred Volume Of Law Prospective On Wealth

David's NotesNotes about DavidDavid's Profile

The Sacred Volume Of Law Prospective On Wealth
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Today at 21:29

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings, But shorter tempers; wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints; We spend more, but have less; We buy more, but enjoy it less. We have bigger houses and smaller families; More conveniences, but less time; We have more degrees, but less sense;More knowledge, but less judgment;More experts, but more problems; More medicine, but less wellness.We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, Drive too fast, get angry too quickly, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too seldom,… and pray too seldom.We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often. We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life; We’ve added years to life, not life to years. We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, But have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor. We’ve conquered outer space, but not inner space; We’ve done larger things, but not better things.
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Colleen O'Grady
wow...am keeping to share on my blog and elsewhere

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a link?

The Lonely Guitar

The Lonely Guitar
Against the lamp post
In the dark of night,
The lonely guitar leant
Mourning its plight.

Along came a stranger
Riddled with gin,
Found the guitar
And clasped to him.

Hastening to his mates
In the hours before dawn,
He sang his joy.
A star was born!

Many a long day
They talked and joked
And drinking grog
'Til they nearly choked!

Then one day
A friend walked in,
Saw the guitar
And cursed like sin!

'You stole it!'
He cied, voice full of scorn.
'I found it'
Screamed the drunken born.

Well! The fight did start
Inside, then out.
Then along came a copper
full of burly clout.

'You've damagd the house!'
Roared the judge from the bench.
'Six months in the stoush
To learn common sense!'

A lonely guitar
In a shop resides
And nobody notices
The tears on its sides.

Then one day
A punk walked in,
Bleary of eye
And covered in sin.

He picked up the guitar
Gave a strum or two
Walked out the door
And came back like new!

Eyes crystal clear,
A song on his lips,
He brought the guitar
And turned out smash hits!

Rape of Mt Whaleback

Rape Of Mt Whaleback

Mighty haulpaks

240 tonne capacity

Mining shovels

70 tonne bite

on mountainside.

Flag-waving vehicles

hurry, scurry

380mm blast holes

red dust.

Crushing conveyor

across landscape,

160 000 tonne ore,

Massive dumps

open cut, terraced,

zig-zag roadways

continually wet.

2.6m train

five engines

carry ore

to ships and sea.

Everything vast,

large scale.

Great tourist

attraction,

moonscaping

Rape of Mt Whaleback.

Passages to the Past: Review: The Tudor Rose by Margaret Campbell Barnes#links#links

Passages to the Past: Review: The Tudor Rose by Margaret Campbell Barnes#links#links

Our youth

Our youth of today face many challenges, but there are some who are busy out there learning. These two groups of youth visited their places of Parliament to learn how the goverment of their nations were run. These are the leaders of our nation's tomorrow. What they learn about, either good or bad, will be used. It would be conducive if youth in other nations, including America, took up the cudgel and went to see how our nations are run!

Young Single Adults from the Chuch of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints visited Canberra and Parliament House. This is not the first time a group of Australian YSA have visited Parliament House in Canberra, but Australia is leading the way. An Australian missionary serving in Namibia organised for the Young Single Adults of that nation to attend their parliament. What nation will be next?

The Glassblower

This poem was written after watching a glassblower at work at the Subiaco Markets in Perth, Western Australia. At the same time I had found through the Wakefield Census records that my great grandfather William Smith, was a glassblower. This poem is dedicated to that ancient art.

The Glassblower
The delicate bubble
the glassblower turned,
Twisting and shaping
as the flame burned.

People stand quiet,
watching the skill
Of an artist at work
for them, a thrill.

Carefully, gently,
he twisted and blew,
Moulding the glass
into Cinderella's shoe.

Then another bubble
he twisted and turned,
Making a basket
As the flame burned

Here - a small swan!
There - a miniature hat!
Then the blower blew
a tiny, wee cat.

Horses that rear,
dolphins that fly,
Soaring birds
up in the sky.

Blowing the bubble
for all to see
Mighty animals
and fish of the sea.

Slowly, softly,
the bubble unfurled,
As the glassblower blows
to show us the world.

Art from the ancients;
skill of the wrist,
Fingers so gentle
as firmly they twist.

Gift from our God,
given to man,
Part of our life
and the overall plan.

We Women Are Special. That's why I like this

By the time the Lord made woman, He was into his sixth day of working overtime. An angel appeared and said, 'Why are you spending so much time on this one?" And the Lord answerd, "Have you seen my spec sheet on her?"

'She has to be completly washable, but not plastic, have over 200 moveable parts, all replaceable and able to run on diet soda and leftovers, have a lap that can hold four children at one time, have a kiss that can cure anything from a scraped knee to a broken heart and she will do eveything with only two hands."

The angel was astounded at these requirements, "Only two hands!? No way! And that's just on the standard model? That's too much work for one day. Wait until tomorrow to finish."

"But I won't," the Lord protested, "I am so close to finishing this creaion. She already heals herself when she is sick and can work an 18 hour day."

The angel moved closer and touched the woman. "But you've made her so soft, Lord."

'She is soft," the Lord agreed, "but I have also made her tough. You have no idea what she can endure or accomplish."

'Will she be able to think?" asked the angel.

The Lord replied, 'Not only will she be able to think, she will be able to reason and negotiate."

The angel then noticed something, and reaching out, touched the woman's cheek. "Oops, it looks like you have a leak in this model. I told you that you were trying to put too much into this one."

"That's not a leak," the Lord corrected, "that's a tear!"

"What's the tear for?" the angel asked.

The Lord said, "The tear is her way of expressing her joy, her sorrow, her pain, her disappointment, her love, her loneliness, her grief and her pride.

The angel was impressed. "You are a genius, Lord. You thought of everything! Woman is truly amazing."

And she is! Women have strengths that amaze men.

They bear hardships and they carry burdens, but they hold happiness, love and joy. They smile when they want to scream. They sing when they want to cry. They cry when they are happy and laugh when they are nervous.

They fight for what they believe in. They stand up to injustice. They don't take 'no' for an answer when they believe there is a better solution. They go without, so their family can have. They go to the doctor with a frightened friend.

They love unconditionally. They cry when their cildren excel and cheer when their friends get awards. They are happy when they hear about a birth or a wedding. Their hearts break when a friend dies. They grieve the loss of a family member, yet they are strong when they think there is no strength left. They know that a hug and a kiss can heal a broken heart.

Women come in all shapes, sizes and colours.

They'll drive, fly, walk, run or email you to show how much they care about you. The heart of a woman is what makes the world keep turning.

They bring joy, hope and love. They have compassion and ideals. They give moral support to their family and friends. Women have vital things to say and everything to give.

They are the most unique and the most precious work of the Lord.

Dust Storms!

Wednesday the 23rd September 2009 saw a fierce dust storm swamp New South Wales and parts of southern Queesland. The dust storm blew from the hinterland as far west as Broken Hill with that town darkened by its swirling dust before the howling wind moved it further eastwards. It reached Sydney and blew north to Brisbane, parts of it travelled over the Tasman Sea and reached New Zealand, much to the dismay of its inhabitants. At this period of time there were also two earth tremors experienced in Melbourne. In Wynnum where I live it had blown a westerly gale since Monday! On Tuesday I had put my washed tin pie pan out in the sun to dry properly so it wouldn't rust and forgot about it! I remembered it today, Thursday and thought that was it, its heading for New Zealand now. But a search revealed it tucked neatly near the pole of the old side gate of this old unit! Dust storms are normal occurrences in this wide brown land of ours.

Circular Quay, Sydney, New South Wales, covered in flying dust
















Surfing anyone? Bondi Beach, Sydney, New South Wales, is barely discernable







Look hard! You might be able to see the Opera House in Sydney!

A floating Sydney Harbour Bridge

The Wonderful Wildflowers of Wetern Australia

There are over 12000 species of wildflowers across Western Australia making it a very popular state to visit in the spring. I have lived all over this big state and love the wildflower season. Here are some of them from the South West of the state.

This is the Blue Leschenaultia found around Perth. Lake Leschenaultia is named after this flower.

Here is the Donkey Orchid, a great favourite that is found all over the South West, hidden under shrubs and around the edges of small granite outcrops

The pretty Pink Enamel Orchid is found in the same places as the donkey orchid!

This is another orchid - the spider orchid or Calendia is its latin name also found throughout the South West.

...and the floral emblem for the State of Western Australia - the kangaroo paw, latin name Anigozantha manglesii! It is mainly found around the Perth region and surrounding districts

These yellow everlastings were taken at Wooleen Station in the Central Murchison, which is over 200kms north west of Paynes Find. Paynes Find is 420ks north of Perth.

There are acres of the white everlastings - Rhondanthe chlorcephala, sometimes with flower heads nearly as big as saucers, all over the Murchison. This bunch on the left was taken near Paynes Find. The picture above was taken at Landor Station on the banks of the Gascoyne River, a couple of hundred kms further north of the Murchison River and much further north of Paynes Find

Wildflowers of Western Austalia

Its my favourie time of the year, August-September and I am separated from my favourite state and all its wildfowers. Western Australia, where I spent most of my life and where I call home. Half of my family lives there, the other half here in Queensland and a continent separates us! This part of my blog I am portraying some more of my favourite wildflowers from my home state. This picture shows yellow everlastings at Thundelarra Station north of Paynes Find in the East Murchison. I used to live near here on Oudabunna Station and had the wildflowers at my back door

..one of the reasons why I get homesick - wildflower season

Some of the pictures have been taken from the history of the sturt pea re South Australian Government. The red blob on the map of Australia portrays where the sturt pea can be found, but as I write in my article, the sturt pea is found a lot further south in Western Australia in the Murchison region, and a lor further north in the Pilbara.

This is the bautiful swainsona formosa - sturt pea. The photograph to the right of the coloured drawing I took when travelling along the Great Northern Highway between Degrey Station where I had been, and Port Hedland near Strelley Station. I was on my way to the remote Warrawagine Station a few hundred kms further east. This beautiful wildflower is the state emblem for South Australia, and the two drawings were by Marion Westmacott. In Western Australia it is seen in the Pilbara region and down through to the Murchison. On Coodardy Station in the east Murchison is an outcrop of sandstone called Afghan Rock. In the spring this outcrop is surrounded by the sturt pea. On approaching the rock one spring for a visit, instead of seeing the expected red of the sturt pea, I saw only a sea of green. On the approach of the Wyllies jeep, the sea of green suddenly rose into the air - budgerigas by the hundreds had been feeding on the seed, which is a pea - when they were disturbed! The pea was named after Captain Charles Sturt, who saw it when exploring between Adelaide and the harsh Australian inland. Often it is called Sturt's Desert Pea or just Sturt Pea. The peas can be found in all states except Victoria and no doubt Tasmania, these states being too cold and frosty for the sturt pea's growth.

So we went bush my son Les and I. He was on afternoon shift at the Mt Tom Price mine and I was still desiring to 'kick dirt' as any good geographer would do in studyuing the area on my field trip from Curtin University. And being a male of course...he took the wheel of my Feroza with an outraged mother beside him. We headed out into the surrounding scrub on the rim of the Hamersly Range, literaly scrub bashing across rough, broken ground, pushing through grasping, squeaking, scratching trees and shrubs, and down stony, pebbly dry creek beds. Morning tea was had in the dry Bellary Creek bed. When I asked him why he went bush when he was outraged at the state of my four-wheeler when I landed at his home after a long, wet, slithery, muddy drive, he said he wanted to test the mettle of my little vehicle. Hmm! I noticed he never offered to use his Landcruiser. Might scratch it! Well, I saw the scrub of cassias, thorn bushes, wattles and gums, and the stony, broken ground that not even the kangaroos were interested in except for bounding through, investigated the outside of the Feroza thoroughly for external damage, and marvelled at this wide brown land I live in that can be so inhospitable.

For I am homesick....

PERTH WEATHER
Roiling black clouds,
Squalling winds
At gale force.
Slanted rain
Sliding along
Windows
Of bus and train.
Rivers in turmoil
White wave-topped
At confluence,
Brushed smooth
In lee
Of Kings Park,
Perth.
Wildflowers.
Jam, mustard, kerosene,
Bushes coming out.
Smokebush,
Bacon and Egg,
Wattle bushes defiant
Under the onslaught.
Banksia,
Grevillea,
Geraldton wax,
Twisting and dancing
In wind and rain.
Train sways
To and fro,
Buses splash
And slip.
Passing trucks
Leave waves.
Ocean heaving
Beyond its bounds.
Perth winter.

Shane - a good poet

SHANE: ALL THAT IS WAITING

SHANE's Notes
ALL THAT IS WAITING
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Today at 11:18

Iron roof glimmers from a fresh summer storm

Children’s laughter from nearby backyards resounds

All relax in the respite from a long summers dawn

Let loose the blind blinded by the glow so warm

Dew gathers and glistens from each blade of grass

While magpies busily work by lessons of past

The garbage truck has come and gone so fast

Morning becomes day like new members of a cast

The early morning joggers trot out their path

Clear mist from a mirror after refreshing bath

All smooth and revived readied to start

The neighbours dog still incessantly barks

What new adventure awaits outside timber gate

The frangipani bougainvillea a perfect picture create

A scene from a painting on a canvas of time

Nature performs the rituals in tune so fine

Leaves drop the jumpers come for winter to stop

Wood gatherers bring fuel and money exchanged

Temperatures plummet with hands stuffed in pockets

Figures dance and seek refuge from wind on a corner

The sun no longer visits so early on mornings

How I complained of the heat on those dawning’s

Birds huddle close and sing only in warning

As endless legions of ants miss crumbs on their falling

We blow in cupped hands as if shouting and calling

Shivering and shaking freezing and aching

Wishing for summer sand beach and sun baking

Wind rattles the windows to a fear of them breaking
The landscape is familiar but constantly changing

From the veranda is witnessed a storm in the making

It’s hot once again and all animals start mating

As I relax in my chair I contemplate all that is waiting

From distance comes lightening and thunder explodes

A crescendo of violence erupts from high in the sky

Huge droplets of rain catch all passers by

As if by coincidence to help quench the dry

Mud trampled floors and dodging the hail

The weekend hustle and bustle of a crowded market sale

To ponder the direction of a slow moving snail

A mosquito or two and milk that’s gone stale

Paw Paw trees that bend under their load

Fruit bats that screech in trees over the road

Cast off the jetty catch a fish called a toad

Rivers swell then threaten to flood your abode

We come together to eat drink and celebrate life

There’s a lizard out back causing the cat some strife

As we watch the sun set through the flies that are rife

The crickets signal the end of a day in my life

The Mystery

The Mystery
A signature
Roman numerals.
Who was he?
Why did he write?
Name in concrete.
A mystery.
But gives away
Secrets.
A fan of
Rudyard Kipling.
Concrete circles
buried
Half a drum.
Out bush
Where dust swirls.
Across spinifex.
Distant station.
Untold story.
21 drums of concrete!
Words written
With knife bold.
And signed:
J. Coten, July, 1960.

Fire!

Scenario: Cue!

Men, fronting up

To the bar

Elbows bent

Tongues wagging

Thirst not spent.

A wife waits

With little ones

Outside

In the heat

On street wide.

Rig roars

To a standstill

Truckie with thirst

Slams door

Weather cursed.

Action: Smoke!

All in the bar.

Wife listens.

'Sizzle!'

'Spit' and 'crackle!'

'Fizzle!'

'Fire!'

She cries.

Men erupt

Faster than flies

Bar empty,

Rig afire.

Men dash

To and fro

One only

Walks slow.

Rig driver,

With extinguisher!

Dales Gorge Pool

Dales Gorge Pool

Lofty battlements

rear their heads

azure sky.

Unfinished forts
of red

confuse the eye.

Built by God

ancient rocks

packed tight.

Creamy spinifex

Snappy Gum

atop scarp.

Deep pools

in the light,

in the cool.

Red earth,

red rock,

dark pool.

This was my four wheel drive that I went all over the North West of Western Australia during 1996 and again in 1997. These photos were taken in 1996 at Tom Price, an iron ore town, at my son's home after a very long and tiring journey from near Gascoyne Junction in the central Gascoyne area, driving 300-odd kms south to Meekatharra ahead of an approaching cloud band, via a very slippery and flooded Landor-Meekatharra Road and crossing the equally-flooded Landor River. On arrival at Meekatharra, it was a further three hundred kms to get to Tom Price via Wittenoom totalling over 600 kms in one day. The easier roads traveling west from where I was were closed by the police and the Gascoyne Junction Shire because of flooding and Meekatharra was the only way out. So off I slipped and slithered just before noon as the pitter patter of rain was heard on the tin roof of Dalgety Downs station homestead, where I had been for the past eleven days! My son was horrified at the vehicle's state when I arrived at his place in the early morning of the next day, having camped behind a truckie parked at Kumarina, but I brusquely informed him it was an off-road vehicle and that's where I had been. Most of the Landor-Meekatharra Road was atop what is called the Cunyu land system, which was really an old river bed that once ran between the Gascoyne and Murchison Rivers. A great adventure. On my arrival in Meekatharra about 8:30 that night, when I pulled up at the post office to call the station I had left, and my son at Tom Price to say I was 'out', two geologist bound for Newman wandered over to my vehicle for a chat, wanting to know where I had come from and where I was going. They were pleased that they would be following bitumen all the way north to Newman and told me that the Landor-Meekatharra road had been closed by the Meekatharra police because more rain had fallen and that there was one vehicle coming through - me! I had to really push the Feroza door to get out, and was astounded to view the Feroza, mud everywhere, and it was dropping in the middle of the Meekatharra main drag in great blobs! And Meekatharra I might add, was bone dry! No rain there at all. The phone call to Dalgety Downs took place and Debbie informed the Gascoyne Junction police that I was out and safe, and they in turn, I knew, would inform Meekatharra. So I grabbed a steak sandwich at the roadhouse and carried on up the smooth bitumen to Tom Price, many miles past Newman in the Hamersly Range.

Lena's Trials

This is my novel, a fantasy, that concerns a ficticious Apache legend involving two poeple, one from Australia the other from the USA. The work has been proofread and is currently in the hands of a literary agent. The novel revovles aroundLena, who goes throug fur trials because she is a reluctant recipientof the legend. The other party, Cabrito, finds himself working hard to beat the trials, get Lena to be part of what she is to do with him, and stay alive! Meanwhile I work on its sequal Cab and Lena whee there is a fifth trial, this one aimed at Cab. A war!

Passages to the Past: Royal Harlot Giveaway!

Passages to the Past: Royal Harlot Giveaway!

Feeding Calves Warrawagine

Brindle, brown and black forms

waiting in the shade.

Hungry, throaty bellows greet

bucket-carrying brigade.

Thirsty mouths dip in the milk

heads pop out and shake.

There is no finger soft as silk

help a thirst to slake.

Blossom slurps and gurgles hers

in seconds bucket empty

Brindle slurps then concurs

with Brownie who was naughty!

Noses nudge with force and strength

Bodies jostle feeders.

Humans give in at length

fingers become feeders.

Sez O'Grady

http://sezogrady.blogspot.com/