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P ersonal Musings...

Photo by Michelle Stokie

'xcuse me... 

But, I was just thunkin'.....

Posts: #1  #2  #3   #4   #5   #6

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For some, Christmas is a sad time...

 

For many, a fun time...

 

For me, a time of joy;

an opportunity to be with family-n-friends

       &

to make new memories...

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That day in March

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The day our worlds changed...

so too the lives of our families

.........

Blogs: one  two  three  four  five  six

 
 

Guess that's ~ a sign of the times...

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Don't know what burbing is!

See here.

Walking miles each day in Kathmandu

Visiting a village in Chitwan

Looking forward to making old bones....

Walking miles each day in Kathmandu

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I can't remember when I last slept in till 8.50 am;

enjoying a dream so much ~ trekking in Nepal and travelling India with my daughter, Jodie.

 

Perhaps it had something to do with this morning being my last 'burb' with Archie (one block and I end up sweating like a pig)...

 

When times get tough, rough or cantankerous

      and, yes, they sometimes do...

I think of a place where I know they'll be tougher, rougher and much, much hotter.

 

I think of my friends in Sealdah, Kolkata.

Drive or walk down one of Kolkata's main arterial roads

This road provides for three million commuters each day

Drive or walk down one of Kolkata's main arterial roads

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Must be my age...

            It doesn't take a lot to get me excited

I was walking around our small patch of turf with my two little sisters,

Margie-n-Patty, showing them what I’d done over lockdown to improve our outdoor rooms. I was just introducing them to my class of Elkhorn puppies when, to my great surprise, I was immediately taken back to Boxing Day, 2019.

See if you notice what got me so excited.

Then click the image to find out more...

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Abnormal Normality

when the abnormal becomes the normal

when the unexpected becomes the expected

when excitement becomes routine

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Just a slight leak

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John, looks like we have a bit of a leak.

No probs! 

I'll get the plumber.

It's just a small leak... 

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A local plumber came ~ two visits later and we are told it could be in the wall...

the question is, "Who would we invite for dinner?"

?

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Peter McCann

Me

Sr Cyril

St Maurice

Auntie Margo

Cabbage Tree Ned

Mary

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St Maurice

If sainthood were more than a political appointment, Fr Maurice Adams would be so named. As a young parish priest from the Holy Spirit Catholic church in comfortable Manifold Heights Maurice went to Kanabea in the highlands of New Guinea as a missionary. 

For him it was a dream come true.

He then qualified as a doctor, established a hospital, built an airfield

and obtained his flying licence.

These were his people until his death from cancer.

 

Sister Cyril

What Mother Theresa did for the dying of Calcutta, Cyril did in education for the poor of Kolkata, India.

As principal of Loreto Day School, Sealdah (an exclusive private school for girls), Sister Cyril established programs for the deprived (which became a world-wide phenomenon).

Recognised in India ( Padmashri award) and invited to speak around the world (including at the United Nations), her programs have been adopted throughout India and many other countries.

 

 

 

Cabbage tree Ned

Edward Devine, born in 1833, brought the art of coach driving to a new height. By 1854 he was driving coaches on the Geelong-Ballarat Road. After Cobb & Co. acquired this route, Devine became one of their best-known drivers.

For a time he drove the 'Leviathan' coach, the largest to appear in Australia, and by 1862 he was earning the very high wage of £17 a week. In that year he was assigned to drive the first All-England cricket team to visit Australia, on their tour of Victoria. His spectacular handling of a new coach with twelve magnificent light greys won him widespread fame.

 

Peter McCann

truly the grandfather of Fyansford, established the Australian

Portland Cement Co. Ltd. in 1889 and then Australian Portland

Cement Co. Pty. Ltd. in 1905.  McCann was chairman and also general manager (managing director from 1946) of Australian Cement Ltd until shortly before his death.

 

 

Auntie Margo

Margaret Enscoe, nee Harrington, from Merino, story-teller and mother with a marshmallow heart, was an unassuming, hard-working and loyal farmer's wife back in the days when trunk telephone calls required connections with two exchanges down the line, outside toilets were standard, lamps were the only form of lighting, water ran directly from a tank through a hole in the wall into the kitchen sink, bath water had to be boiled over the stove, drying clothes were hung over a timber frame from the ceiling, firewood needed to be chopped and cows were milked twice daily.

I treasure those times spent within aunt Margo's embrace.

 

And, of course, seats for both Mary and me.

 

One seat left – Any suggestions?

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