Right Here I am siting in my Benalla home of almost 58 years, and Right Now I am in my 93rd year of living.

My wife, Bernadette, and I both are in excellent health and enjoy a relaxed retirement. We are, indeed, a fortunate couple.

As one would expect, because of my age, I ponder the future - how long do I still have  to live???, I ponder the past - could I have done better in life???

What of the future? - My death must be imminent.  Is there an after-life? My Catholic upbringing  tells me that there is, - but the  seemingly,  general belief is that there is a nothingness!

My faith puts me in a quandary!!

And so, I ponder the past and the many injustices which I endured.

I was the youngest of seven siblings. I am the only surviving one.

My mother died of cancer when I was 4 years old. My father was an alcoholic (whether  through his own fault or not I don’t  dare to guess). His sisters determined that he was not capable of caring for his young family, aged 18yrs, 16 yrs, 13 yrs, infant death,  9yrs, 6 yrs and 4 yrs. Consequently we all went in our different directions and didn’t have the opportunity to grow as a family.

One of dad’s sisters belonged to the hierarchy of the nuns, (Sisters of Mercy), therefore I was sent to be housed and educated at Villa Maria, a boy’s boarding school/home in Ballarat East, until at grade 8 I obtained my merit certificate. I then gained a scholarship which entitled me to accommodation and tutorial at St.Patrick’s College, also in Ballarat.

School holidays were spent  with my aunts and uncles. Of them all, Aunty Kath and Toby O’Shannessy,  and Uncle Ned Caine were the only ones who showed me any affection. Aunty Kath was absolutely wonderful. Generally I felt unloved. Consequently I have always felt envious of people with mothers.

I don’t have the words to describe the emptiness of a life without a mother.

Now, having a loving wife in Bernadette and four children of my own, family means much more to me.

One can have ups and downs in life but a positive attitude is a ‘must’.

Which brings me back to the point ‘RIGHT NOW’.

Right now, I can possibly take the opportunity to make some suggestions, or maybe to give some ‘wise words’-

            Mothers are ‘special persons’ who love you unreservedly. Repay that love twofold.
            Always consider your family before others
            Don’t undervalue yourself. You are as good, or even better than others.
            There is always some good in everyone.
            No matter how disadvantaged you may be, there is always somebody worse off.
            Develop a good work ethic.
            There is no substitute for hard work.
            Be prepared to ‘walk that extra mile’.
            Develop an enquiring mind.
            We all make mistakes. Acknowledge your own.
            Tomorrow is ‘another day’.
            DON’T “dwell on” or “stew over” an injustice to you.
            Think positively.
            Be truthful.
            Don’t be too outspoken, but have your say.
            Look people ‘in the eye’ when shaking hands.

In making these suggestions, I am re-iterating some advice I have given to my grandchildren. You may, or may not, agree.


Ray O’Shannessy
November 2024
​

Convenor's response:  "As the audience knew nothing, or very little, about Neville's writing to respond, I decided to ask ChatGPT  'Do the following propositions stand up to scrutiny?'  

"Your propositions present an intriguing intersection of philosophical inquiry and scientific speculation. Let’s examine each idea for its coherence and alignment with current understanding of physics and philosophy:

1. "Right Here, Right Now" and the Nature of Time

• Philosophical Interpretation:
  The claim that "Right Here Right Now" is unattainable aligns with the philosophical view that the present moment is fleeting. In many traditions, such as Buddhism, this impermanence is a fundamental truth. In physics, time is considered continuous, meaning it flows without stopping, reinforcing this impermanence.
• Scientific Perspective:
  Time, as measured by a clock, progresses continuously in our everyday experience. However, quantum mechanics introduces uncertainty and discreteness at incredibly small scales, suggesting that the flow of time might not be as smooth as it seems.

2. Einstein’s Insights on Time and Gravity

• Einstein’s general theory of relativity demonstrates that time is not absolute. Time dilation occurs in strong gravitational fields or at high velocities (close to the speed of light). This has been confirmed through experiments, such as observing the behavior of atomic clocks on satellites.
• While Einstein's theories bend our understanding of time, they don’t fundamentally negate its passage—they show that time is relative and linked to space and gravity.

3. Studying Time at Nanoscales

• Light and Time:
  Time and light are interconnected. The speed of light is a constant in a vacuum, but its behavior can be influenced by gravity or other physical forces, as shown by relativity.
• Precision in Measurement:
  Atomic clocks, such as those based on cesium or strontium atoms, are already used to measure time with incredible precision, down to femtoseconds (10^-15 seconds). Exploring nanoscale (10^-9 seconds) phenomena might yield insights, but these timescales are relatively large compared to what’s already achievable in advanced metrology.

4. Quantum Theory and Time

• Quantum Mechanics and Classical Physics:
  Quantum mechanics indeed operates under rules distinct from classical physics. Phenomena like entanglement and superposition defy our everyday intuition. However, quantum mechanics does not discard time—it incorporates it differently, such as through time evolution in quantum systems described by Schrödinger's equation.
• Time in Quantum Contexts:
  Time at quantum scales is an area of active research. Some physicists propose that time might emerge from deeper quantum phenomena, rather than being fundamental.

5. Matter, Space, and Building Blocks

• Objects as Mostly Space:
  Atoms are mostly empty space, with a dense nucleus and electrons moving around it. This idea, central to quantum mechanics, explains why matter is composed of discrete building blocks (quarks, leptons, etc.) but appears continuous on macroscopic scales.
• Time and Quantum Theory:
  Whether time has "no effect" in the quantum world is debatable. Quantum field theory unifies quantum mechanics with special relativity, suggesting time and space are deeply connected even at these scales.

6. Potential Research Directions

• Investigating time and light at finer resolutions might deepen our understanding, but it’s not clear that slowing time (conceptually) would aid quantum theory. Time dilation is already a well-understood phenomenon in relativity. However, finding ways to measure time and quantum events more precisely could lead to breakthroughs in areas like quantum computing or gravitational wave detection.
• Combining nano-time resolution with quantum mechanics is a compelling idea but requires experimental evidence and theoretical frameworks that bridge these domains.

Conclusion
Your propositions touch on profound questions about the nature of time, light, and quantum mechanics. While some ideas are speculative, they highlight legitimate areas of inquiry. Refining these concepts with a clearer scientific basis—rooted in relativity, quantum mechanics, and advanced metrology—could pave the way for deeper exploration.'

Thank you for helping out, ChatGPT!

​Beverley Lee, Convenor

​Whilst I was growing up my mother volunteered at the school, the church, Red Cross, and raised nine children.

When I got married, I volunteered at the St James Fire Brigade, the Red Cross, the Church and at both schools my two children attended. 

​When they left school, I fantasised about all of the free time I was going to have, and all the wonderful things I was going to do. Like write a book, paint, garden and spend time having a coffee or two with my best friend.

Instead of that, I volunteered to write for grants to renovate the St James Hall, to appeal to the County Fire Authority (CFA) to build a new fire station as the old one was falling down. Then came the silo art, the notice board and restoration of a heritage jail, as well as reproducing the photographic history of St James and District. There were also the Victorian Farmers’ Federation (VFF) and the Victorian Rural Fire Brigades Association (VRFBA). All took time away from home and family.

While I don’t regret any of those things, I wonder what the future holds for the communities where most of the young people have gone away to university or to jobs

We, the present volunteers are reaching the end of our use by date.   I worry that we are not planning for the future by getting the younger people more involved in continuing the tradition of spending at least some of their time helping others.

Our Red Cross branch is over 80 years old, but now we only have one meeting a year, with about five dedicated members in total from Devenish and St James. The VFF Branch has folded. The Tennis Club has folded. The Fire Brigade is struggling to keep enough numbers to manage what is shaping up to be a bad fire year. Our Community Group is made up of the older population, mostly exceeding 80 years old, and it is the same couple who prepare the hall, make the coffee or tea, bring the morning tea, then clean up afterward.

As older members of the Community with a fair bit of experience over the years, some of the blame for the above problem lays at our feet. We need to move over a bit, and not hang on to control. Yes, we are good at what we do, but we need to share this with the younger generation. Encourage them to participate and praise them for their efforts. Show them that becoming a volunteer has great benefits. Job opportunities are increased with a CV that shows that they are prepared to give up some of their spare time to help others.

I have enjoyed my life as a volunteer but realise I’m running out of time if I want to write that book. So, here I am.
 

Kathy Beattie
November 2024

This story goes back to August this year when I discovered that the Federal Government had introduced taxation for not-for-profit community groups in the 2023/24 federal budget.

I was encouraged to investigate the matter after one of the clubs that I am a member of, was assessed for a taxation payment of $6,000 for the 2023/24 year. Not-for-profit groups are now required to pay tax on any profits over $416 or any funding that is contributed for the direct benefit of the members. In the above case the group provided a small subsidy for the annual membership fees.

I commenced my investigation by contacting a number of groups that I am a member of, to see if they were aware of these new taxation requirements. To my dismay almost all had no idea that these laws had been introduced.

In 2023 a report was issued by Prof. Ian Hickey advising that collectively, volunteer contributions to Australia’s social prosperity were valued at $287.86bn, equating to 14% of Australia’s GDP in 2021.

During my investigations I received adverse reactions from a number of volunteers who have taken exception to the requirement to provide their myGov details to confirm their identity. Many have stated that they will simply resign. These new regulations require one person to accept responsibility for reporting and compliance for a community group which will almost certainly be managed by a committee.  It is suggested volunteers will find this ‘all too hard’ and we will see a massive drain from this valuable resource. These taxes will go down in history as being the greatest disincentive for volunteers that Australia has ever seen.

Further investigation took place and to my dismay the whole process of the introduction was an absolute debacle. I assembled the information that I had, and sent a copy of this to our local MP Dr. Helen Haynes on 12th September. She assessed the content and then forwarded a copy to the Federal Treasurer Dr. Jim Chalmers, on the 16th September, asking him what could be done about the issues that I had raised.

After almost a month an undated response was received from the Assistant Treasurer, Andrew Leigh on the 18th October. This reponse did not address any of the issues raised which will have adverse impact on the community, but simply stated the details of the current regulations. It was simply a ‘go away and don’t annoy me’ response.

Following this I received some further information about the processes introduced by the Federal Government. The main issue that arose from this was the fact that there was no provision within the regulations to allow for an off-set of volunteer hours contributed to running these community support organisations, any fundraising that they may undertake, or the time required to comply with the new taxation regulations. My response to this is:

Whilst the Federal Government is holding out its hand for the revenue raised, there appears to be no offset allowance for volunteer hours contributed, even at the minimal rate as assessed by the Governments in each state, each year. Does the Taxation Department think that somebody waves the ‘magic wand’ and the funds mysteriously appear in the community group’s bank account??

Three weeks ago a report from a Senate Inquiry was released which highlighted the issues that I had raised in my original submission of 12th September. However, the Senate report did not include the issue of off-set time allowance for volunteer input to community support functions.

The situation is perhaps encapsulated in a comment made to me recently by a fellow volunteer who said,

“I have no problems whatsoever volunteering my time for the benefit of the community, but having been a taxpayer all of my working life, I will not, under any circumstances, volunteer my time to raise money for the Taxation Department.”

I have prepared a media alert, highlighting the adverse impact on the community and other issues created by these new laws, which will be released to key media outlets and Federal Parliamentarians over the next two weeks.

To be continued………………..

Barry O’Connor.
14th November 2024.


References:
​
Ms Kristen Tran, A/Professor Jo-An Occhipinti, Professor John Buchanan, Dr Sebastian Rosenberg, Dr Christine Song, Professor Ian B. Hickie (2023)  A Contributing Life: A Snapshot of the Value of Social Production  The University of Sydney Brain and Mind Centre

Sydney University News (15 March 2023) - 'Australian unpaid social contributions valued at $287 billion' 

​I am writing this right here, right now before I forget what I am writing about.

Yes, that has been a large problem for me this year—getting older.

​In my seventy-second year on this planet, I forget which planet I was on previously to this one.

This year, I have noticed how I seem to be getting older each day. Well, there would be a problem if I wasn’t getting older each day. I would either be six feet (or about 1.8 metres, for the younger folk) underground. Or, I might even go up in smoke. I guess I will never know.

I once knew a man who, every time I said goodbye to him, would answer, “See you when you’re a bit older.” At first, I would think about it. Then I realized—yes, I would be older, even if it was only five minutes later.

I know I am getting older. A couple of things stand out—for example, I don’t work around the garden for as long as I used to. I get tired and exhausted long before I ever used to. I could work all day, with the occasional break for coffee and lunch, then get back into it. These days, it’s more of a lengthy coffee break and a short spell of work.

This reminds me of a job interview I went for many years ago. It wasn’t in a factory or an office building, just a few people sitting around a table. Over in the corner was a small shed with a workbench in it. A few tools sat on the bench, but not much action was going on.

I thought to myself, What sort of workplace is this? Anyway, I was directed to the manager’s office. A guy was sitting at his desk. He told me to come in and relax. He said my number one priority in this place was to relax—not to get too stressed and just enjoy myself.

He said he thought I would enjoy working at his business. He told me I would be tasting tea and coffee for eight hours each day. Then, for fifteen minutes in the morning, and again in the afternoon, I would have a break to go and work in the small shed. Lunch was wherever I wanted it.

I didn’t take the job because I was never meant to sit around all day. I liked to be busy, active, and doing something. Then I reached my seventy-second year—that’s when the memory of the tea-and-coffee job came back to me. It’s because I only have short-term memory loss at this stage.

It seems I finally started that job this year. I have no control over it.

It’s technology and climate change. It’s ruined everything. I know it’s not just me—a lot of people at our weekly coffee meetings say the same thing. All sorts of weird things happen. Our keys are never where we leave them, things jump out in front of us... The list goes on.
The Sun is hotter. The Winters are colder. That’s a fact. Things are further away than they used to be—especially the toilet in the middle of the night.

One thing I do know: I’m Right Here, Right Now.


Tom Barnaby
​November 2024

Earlier in the year, a friend gave me a bookmark: “It’s Not Hoarding If It’s Books”.  So impressed was I with that sentiment, that I bought a t-shirt flouting the same message. To my mother and grandmother the idea that a collection of books, not matter how large, could ever be construed as hoarding, would have been bizarre. A collection of books equalled a library, size was irrelevant.

I remember when my grandmother migrated from Rome to Australia. She was in her early nineties and had finally acknowledged that she could no longer look after herself. This was the seventies, and she had come by boat, not aeroplane. At the docks we waited and waited for grandmother to emerge from customs. It turned out that all her belongings, the bulk of which were her books, had been packed in recycled wooden boxes. Because of biosecurity, they could not enter Australia. Everything had to be unpacked and repacked.

But I digress. Is it hoarding if it’s books? Generally, there is much more leniency towards a house overflowing with books than one overflowing with shoes. Think Imelda Marcos and the flack she bore for her shoe collection.  I’ve often wondered whether this is a remnant from the days when illiteracy was linked to poverty; books with education and comfort. Punch had a great cartoon: two obviously upper-class men looking at a bookshelf with three or four tablets leaning on it – “That’s a fine library you have there, Bertie.”

These meandering thoughts followed my failure earlier in the month to find a book which I had bought just a few days earlier. In the chaos that were my book piles, and the chaos that was my insomniac’s brain, I could no longer remember where I had put it. The more the book hid, the more that was the book I definitely wanted to read next; the more I searched, the more I began to doubt my personal  ‘holy writ’ that “if it’s books, it’s not hoarding”;  the more I looked, the less irritating became the frequent tactless question: “Have you read them all?” It also made me doubt my certainty that each book I bought, would of course be read.

That was my “Right Here, Right Now” “One Moment This Year” rolled into one. Hoarding is hoarding, I decided, and I would from that moment stop buying books. I would cull what I had and have a neat, immaculate, restrained library.

Pigs will of course fly. The next day I met a friend at Hyde’s for coffee and, needless to say, the devil made me look in Redb4’s window. The devil had also cunningly displayed a book which was on my “want to read” list. On a roll, it was the devil who forced me to buy three other books, which he insisted looked very interesting.
​
In my 30 years plus as a second-hand bookseller I have seen some amazing libraries. Two however hit me with fear. It was out and out hoarding. No matter how many people were invited to buy, or to help themselves to the books, the quantity never seemed to diminish. In one case the remnant books were eventually burnt in a Guy Fawkes type night; in the other case the books were simply taken to recycling.  In both cases we were talking quality, but the reality was that the families had no other choice. There were just too many volumes. Many municipalities now have a recycling shop at the tip. Benalla does not.

I also suspect that Imelda would not have had this problem selling/gifting her shoe collection.

So, this is really my fear. What will happen to my library, and to Good Reading’s stock? Both include rare volumes, some bought for the shop, others inherited from my mother’s and grandmother’s libraries.

As this was supposed to be about hoarding, I will finish with a story told me by a friend. When she shifted from number 33 to number 39 Striling Street, she decided to move the smaller stuff herself.  All day, as she moved from one house to the other, she was watched  by a neighbour, a young Vietnamese child leaning over the fence. When her mother eventually summoned her in, the child called out:

“Lady, you got too much stuff.”

From the mouth of babes…..
 
Postscript: ‘After Imelda left Malacañang Palace, press reports worldwide took note of her lavish wardrobe, said to include 15 mink coats, 508 gowns, 888 handbags, and 3,000 pairs of shoes.”

Who would quibble over 4411 books? Proving that if its books, it’s not hoarding.
 
Delfina Manor
November 2024

​This is the first time this year I have been stumped about what I would write about for this month’s memoir.

Early in the year when I read the topics for each month, I was sure I had a story ready and waiting to be written.

Right here, right now, this current life I am living is so full on, so busy.
​
The thing is, I don’t regret a minute of it. In the last 12 months, since hearing about U3A when I attended the Benalla Festival, my life has been nonstop.

My story started with attending the ‘Family Research—Beginners’ class. It was great learning about my ancestry.  I found, and still find, it fascinating,

I came across a newspaper story from March 1928, where a lady had committed suicide by cutting her own throat with a razor blade. The lady was my Great Grandmother.

I also did a DNA test with Ancestry.  Once I got the results back, it was great, they told me where I had come from, parts of the UK, and parts of Europe.

Then I got a list of hundreds of people all around the world that my DNA was matched with by Ancestry. They came from everywhere, especially the UK, around Europe, America, Australia, Canada.  There was only one person I was matched with that I knew, a niece living in Melbourne. There were second and third cousins, through to about eighth cousins.

This is where it starts getting exciting. I received an email one day from a man in Warwickshire, England, which is where I came from.  He claimed he was a second or third cousin and that we had the same Great Grandparents on my mother’s side. He told me he was sorry to see that my mother had passed away recently, and she had. He knew a lot about my mum, her family, her husband and how many kids they had, but not their names.

Over the course of a few emails to each other, he told me about another person who was in his eighties, who he thought might be a distant cousin too. We got in touch through my late cousin’s daughter who knew of him by name, because he visits her grandmother, who is also my Mum’s sister and my Aunt. This man’s son emailed some information from my Mum’s side. It was a 111-page document which he asked his son to send me. Certificates, stories, photos. One particular photo showed my Mum as a two-year-old flower girl at a wedding. Wow!

I also enrolled in another U3A course. “As Time Goes By” Memoir Writing.
Both Family Research and Memoirs are consuming my current life, my past life and to a degree, my future life.

What I have learnt and continue to learn about my predecessors through Family Research and by reflecting on my earlier life through my Memoirs, is certainly keeping me very busy ‘Right Here, Right Now!


Tom Barnaby
October 2023

This is not so much a memoir as a confession. Few days would go past without me reminding myself to be aware of Right here, Right now.

I find it so easy to be planning what I need to do for the rest of the day – or tomorrow. I don’t seem to include what I want to do, just need. It’s very easy when you live by yourself to be eating a meal you’ve just prepared and finding your thoughts wandering off to something that happened today or, more frequently, might be on the agenda for tomorrow, instead of, ‘Wow! This is delicious!’

This sort of attitude immediately leads to the making of lists. Yes, my kitchen bench is never without a list for the day (and often the beginning of tomorrow’s list as well). I keep a small pad and pencil by my bed and occasionally, in exasperation, jot down in the complete dark, some idea I can pursue in the future so I will stop thinking about it.

Our sons frequently used to make CDs, singing songs about the idiosyncrasies of their parents (and sometimes those of the neighbours, in which case we played it very softly). So of course there was a song about Carmyl making lists – there might be an erupting volcano outside the door but Carmyl would still be at the bench making a list.

And I suppose one of the problems of list-making is that if you manage to get seven out of the eight items accomplished for the day, you feel a tinge of failure that number eight is not crossed out and will have to be transferred to tomorrow’s list.

Magda Szubanski headed a National Health Check series on TV last year which included a program running in Mansfield to give people healthier lives. One of the three things they suggested to do each day was to go for a walk around the block and listen. Put away each time you think of something you did yesterday or have to plan for today, and just listen. We think of past and future for 85% of the time and only 15% about what is happening here and now.

Last week I came across a quote from the Dalai Lama on Facebook.

‘There are only two days in the year when nothing can be done. One is called yesterday and the other is called tomorrow, so today is the right time to love, believe and mostly live.’

I’d better put it on the frig!            

Carmyl Winkler
October 2023

Here are the words to 'She'll Make a List'

“She’ll make a list…”
 
When the final trump shall sound, when the judgement’s all around,
When what was written in Revelation is writ large in every nation,
When the world is covered in haze and we’ve reached the end of days,
Carmyl will pause and make a list.

She’ll make a list, she’ll make a list, she’ll grab a scrap of paper get a biro in her fist,
When the final trump shall sound, loud enough to shake the ground,
Carmyl will be there making a list.
 
When the lookout turns volcanic and the town begins to panic,
As the town sinks beneath a pile of lava,
Tallangatta is the new Vesuvius and although I have no proof of this,
I think I know what tactic Mum would rather...

She’ll make a list, she’ll make a list, she’ll grab a scrap of paper get a biro in her fist,
When the final trump shall sound, loud enough to shake the ground,
Carmyl will be there making a list!
 
When a freak Hume weir tsunami wipes out half the Bandiana army,
As the tidal waves come surging from the west,
While the folks will all aspire to find some ground that’s higher,
Carmyl will go to the bench and do what she does best

She’ll make a list, she’ll make a list, she’ll grab a scrap of paper get a biro in her fist,
When the final trump shall sound, loud enough to shake the ground,
Carmyl will be there making a list!

Reprise..  (‘One more time…’)
​
She’ll make a list, she’ll make a list, she’ll grab a scrap of paper get a biro in her fist,
When the final trump shall sound, loud enough to shake the ground,
Carmyl will be there, (…will be there… ) making a list!...
Carmyl will be there … making (… making ..a) …a ….list!

Courtesy of Carmyl and the Winkler Brothers!

Right here, right now, I am reflective.
 
I was returning from my post operative consultation visit to Royal Melbourne Hospital where, a month previously, I had undergone a two hour procedure to untwist my stomach. Through neglect, my stomach had turned beyond 180 degrees, and 80% of my stomach had been pushed by a hernia, above my diaphragm. This was not where it should have been.
 
After post-op consultation with my surgeon, I decided to take better care of myself by taking a taxi home to my son’s place in Greensborough.
 
The driver, a young Pakistani man and I enjoyed our conversation as he shared with me his family, his trip to Australia and his aspirations and hopes. He then asked me what I did.
 
I greatly surprised myself by saying ‘I pray’. My response startled me for its transparency and vulnerability. The conversation though continued comfortably as if I said something more benign such as, “I care for my grandchildren’ or ‘I read’.
 
Perhaps Muslims are more comfortable sharing their religious practice.
 
********
 
I am now reflecting on the last 10 months, which has been a quite fascinating and an unexpected journey for me from a teacher and political activist, to what others may call, a recluse.
 
Carl Jung suggested that the challenge in the second half of life is to develop personality characteristics, the opposite of our natural disposition. Thus for me this journey involves:

• as an extrovert, developing introversion,
• as an intuitive, developing my sensate skills,
• and as a ‘feeling’ type person, developing my ‘thinking’ skills.

 
At the beginning of the year, through ‘Google magic’ of algorithms, I found myself increasingly being offered material linked to writings of who are often characterized, as mystics.
 
Examples of Christian mysticism were recorded as early as 150 AD and by the mid fourth century were recognised partly as a response to and in opposition to the ‘Christianization’ of the Roman Empire. Christian mysticism was most commonly reflected in the practices of the early monasteries and convents.
 
Mysticism, defined by Wikipedia:
 
 ‘becoming one with God or the Absolute’, but may refer to any kind of ecstasy or altered state of consciousness which is given a religious or spiritual meaning’.
 
As I pursue a journey of contemplative prayer, I discover others on this path.  Muslims, Jews, Sufis, Hindus and Zen Buddhists!  Each offering their unique insights and experiences on this inner journey. 
 
Right here, right now I am remembering an observation that Thomas Merton, a modern day mystic, offered to his novices. Two of the challenges to the contemplative life are cowardliness and laziness. This is unsettling as I uncomfortably acknowledge these characteristics in me.

More recently I read the words of a Muslim mystic who identified two characteristics of the contemplative or spiritual path.

Transparency and vulnerability.

On reflection, perhaps writing our memoirs for ‘As Time Goes By’, invites us along this same path as we explore, with each other, the uniqueness of our individual journeys. 


Graham Jensen
​October 2023​

​September 25, 2023

Would you believe it?  Right here and now we are still living at Clarke Street, Benalla in the house which Bernadette and I had built for us in the year in which we were married some 57 years ago.
 
We had purchased a cheap block of land on the outskirts of Benalla for $750, and with the aid of finance of $8100 from the Benalla Co-operative Society we paid Ken Grant, our builder, the sum of $10,100 for the erection of a 12.2 square brick veneer home.  A garage cost us an extra $250, and we moved in on 31st December 1967.
 
This was the one and only childhood “home” of our four children.
 
In the mid to late 1970’s we added a new family room and also purchased the block of land directly behind us.  We later added a swimming pool.
 
In 1985 we had considered building a new home, but that idea had been scuttled by the actions of a fraudulent office manager.  We settled for a refurbished kitchen.
 
RIGHT NOW, we are both fortunate to be healthy retirees.  We have satisfied our travel appetites and COVID has put a halt to any further ideas.
 
Bernadette is still a playing member of the Benalla Golf Club and loves gardening and mowing the lawn.  After a stint of 51 years, she has retired from delivering Meals on Wheels, and also her ‘Vinnie’s’ counselling.  Being now in my nineties I am not so active.  I ceased playing lawn bowls after fracturing my pelvis in 2014, after 60 odd years of competition and more than 700 games of pennant bowls.  I am a ‘life member’ of the Bowling Club.  My main activities are now Probus and U3A membership, where I am a regular in the ‘Singing for Fun’ group and the ‘As Time Goes By’ memoir writing group.
 
Also, being in my nineties, I am taking the time for reflection on the following:
 
I have regrets that I lost my mother to cancer when I was 4 years old, and so, have no knowledge of the love of my mother.  At the same time, I generally lost contact with my five siblings and so did not grow up in a family environment …
 
In early 1940 my brother Pat enlisted in the army for World War 2 and went overseas to the battleground in the Middle East.  He returned to Australia in 1943 and was discharged, medically unfit, in September 1944.  He had visited me after his discharge, and to my everlasting regret, I did not know him and treated him as one would a stranger …
 
I also have regrets that, in my twenties, I boarded in country hotels and, to my detriment, succumbed to the ready availability of alcohol …
 
On the brighter side I recall that, through my hotel connections, I commenced playing lawn bowls at a young age, and have spent a very rewarding 60 years in that field …
 
From my early working life, my lot has been made brighter through meeting with the Hernan and Elliott families who both gave me the family life of which I had no prior experience …
 
In my late twenties, I became re-aquainted with my second brother John and his family and lived two of my happiest years with them …
 
1967 saw me marrying the love of my life, Bernadette, and commencing our own family of four children (of whom we are immensely proud) and our eleven adorable grandchildren …
 
In the late 1960’s, while working in Wodonga, I had occasion to visit a specialist who counselled me to “…study accountancy and work for yourself’.  I am forever grateful to him, and, although some ten to twelve years later, I graduated, firstly with the Australian Society of Accountants, and secondly as a Chartered Accountant where I also obtained a ‘fellowship’...
 
I am also proud to say that these qualifications led to my business partnership as a Chartered Accountant …
 
Further to these two qualifications I have been awarded an Order of Australia Medal (OAM) for ‘Service to the Community of Benalla’ ...
 
And so, RIGHT HERE and RIGHT NOW, I feel contented and satisfied with my life.  As I face the ultimate demise I do so at peace with the world and within myself.
 
 
Ray O’Shannessy
October 2023

​Right Here, Right Now, I’m looking at a framed, slightly crumpled, A4 poster ‘1990 Labour Day Concert’ featuring human rights activist and musician ‘Mercedes Sosa, the Voice of Latin America, Guitarro y Canto, with Yorta Yorta, Archie Roach and Mixed Relations’.  The place and time, Melbourne Concert Hall, Monday 12th March, 1990 8pm.

Even before living in Spain in 1976/7, I’d been interested interest in South American politics.  I can remember being disturbed by the death of Chilean president Salvadore Allende and the return of the Dictator, Augusto Pinochet in 1973.  When teaching English in Madrid in friends introduced me to the music of exiled Chilean musicians in ‘Inti Illimana’ and ‘Illapu’ and the bars at which exiled Chilean musicians could be found.  I remember the haunted faces of the singers and the moving, troubled words of the songs they sang, the poetry they shared.  When I left Madrid, friends gave me cassettes of their music, one of which I still have.  On return to Australia, I built up my collection of the music of the Chilean exiles, and in doing so came across the wondrous voice and music of Bolivian human rights activist, Mercedes Sosa. 

In 1989, Chilean exile musicians Illapu came to Melbourne.   I attended concerts at the Melbourne Concert Hall, and also two concerts in Castlemaine, near where I lived in Daylesford. 

The following year, in 1990, Mercedes Sosa came to Melbourne.  Advertisements appeared in ‘The Age’ for her Labour Day public holiday concert at the Concert Hall, I booked my ticket, thrilled to be able to see Mercedes Sosa in person, but also interested in hearing the music of the First Nations Australians who were her supporting acts.

While Mercedes was incredible, the high point of the concert for me was my introduction to the music of Archie Roach.  Archie had a way of quietening, of soothing his audience to a reflective state which enabled them to take in the words of the beautifully crafted songs he sang.  This certainly was my experience that night.  He had not long released his first album Charcoal Lane, which included ‘Took the Children Away’.   I can still remember the incredibly powerful effect it had on me, and still does. 
​
During interval, I noticed Archie standing alone at the side of the room, quietly watching the mingling crowd.  I had been so moved by his music I felt that I wanted to let him know this.  In a brief encounter, I went up to Archie, explained how profoundly moved I was by his music, and thanked him.  He nodded, thanked me quietly, and I moved away.

The treasured poster, which I’ve had for over thirty years know, evokes vivid memories of listening to Archie sing on Labour Day, 1990, and of speaking to him after the show.

At 9am this morning, before leaving Melbourne for Warrnambool; Archie’s cortege drove through inner Melbourne, briefly at places including Charcoal Lane and Cleveland Gardens .  At 2 pm, as we began our class, Archie’s cortege is expected to arrived at the Gunditz Mara Health Service, Warrnambool for a gathering from 2 to 3pm.

Rest peacefully at Framlingham, Archie.  Thank you for your music.


Beverley Lee
August 22, 2022

Post-script - I searched on Trove to see if they had information about the Concert - other sources may appear over time, but I did find this one from 'the Tribune'

​Bushfires came, houses burnt, lives changed forever,
Animals died and people too.
 
Floods came, houses and possessions washed away,
Animals drowned and people too.
 
Covid came and affected us all
Mentally, physically, financially, or all three.
 
The rain came back,
More floods, more damage, more death.
 
Covid came again and again and again,
Until we thought we couldn't take any more.
 
Now there is war and famine
And global warming affecting us all
 
But we are still here,
With family and friends around us.
 
How shall we live in this new normal,
What will we do?
 
Give thanks for what we have,
it is greater than what we have lost.
 
Treat yourself kindly
That you may bring joy to others.


Jenny Monger
​August 2022

​Right here, right now, I am struggling to fulfill a promise I made to my cousin, Des Ryan, to write my father's story. I realised this would not be an easy project and so farmed it out to my siblings, seeking their input. In many ways this has made the project more difficult as we all suffer from Procrastination to some degree or other.   I initiated the process in September last year and had hoped to have completed it by Easter, but four months later the end is nowhere in sight.
 
In the intervening months there have been several deaths.  After attending another funeral last Friday, I decided to bite the bullet and issued a deadline warning to all involved. As Des turned 91 this year, I feel a sense of urgency to complete this task whilst he is still with us. Thus, I have stated all contributions need to be with me no later than the end of September.
 
My daughter, Michele, in charge of the technical side, has suggested we do a timeline of his life, with insertions from his various progeny relating to their memories of their Father. As there were ten children over a twenty-year period, one can imagine memories and opinions of him vary greatly.  Added to this, my father worked as a doctor in many different locations which adds another layer to his story.
 
Des has been the main contributor of his cousin's early life, although Des was sixteen years younger. The two cousins remained close throughout my father's life and visited one another regularly, although on opposite sides of the globe for the last forty years.
 
To date, no one has the story of my parents meeting, but who knows, this mystery may be solved during this undertaking. Fortunately, his school and university days are available in various archives and some of the photos have been a surprise.  I had never thought my father was involved in sport to the degree that is obvious from the various teams he participated in.
 
I have found this whole process to be a test of my endurance, but there have been several discoveries along the way and, as a result, an increased awareness of my father and the influence he has had on all our lives.
 
It has been suggested that “we” need to do a similar project on my mother's life, but that is in the future.  As to who “we” is, I have my suspicions that it is none other than yours truly.
 
Right Here, Right Now, I am looking forward to completing this project and presenting Des with a copy of the finished article.
 
I think “Herding Cats” might have been easier.
 
 
Margaret McCrohan,
August 2022

​I originally prepared this memoir talking about a friend who is 101 years old. He is my inspiration for living a rich, reflective and to a degree, risk-taking life.
 
In planning to use him as my example, I think I was hiding the uncertainties and ambivalences I am presently experiencing. As an alternative to talking about him, which can be done at another time, I am driven to be more authentic.
 
I first visited Benalla in November last year. I had walked one block from the railway station and was enchanted by two murals, a young boy with rainbow hair and a tall Rabbit on the corner of Benalla and Carrier Streets. I knew then that Benalla was where I wanted to live. I love and have grown a variety of roses.  I am attracted to the warmth and friendliness of a city that feels in many ways like a country town. I am very grateful for the wisdom and succor of U3A and making tentative steps to renewing a relationship with the Uniting Church.
 
A few years ago, I wrote a family history based upon the lives of the fifteen individuals and families who, for a wide variety of reasons, left England, Scotland, Ireland and Denmark and came to NSW.  I prefaced my history with a quote from a Nobel prize winning author, Andre Gide:
 
‘You cannot discover new oceans unless you first lose sight of the shore.’
 
A third of my ancestors had no choice in leaving the shore. They were convicts.
Another third arrived on these shores as a result of economic necessity.
The final third came seeking opportunities to create a more prosperous life.
 
Leaving Tathra on the southern coast of NSW, I have literally left the shore perhaps looking for an inland sea.
 
Right here, right now! I am interrupted by an email from cherished friend:
 
‘Looking forward to discussions about what we run toward and what we leave behind’:
 
Oh, oh!  Here is the challenge.

My ancestors left much behind. Most left family never to see again. One left a young child too small for the journey with a single dad and his three other daughters. One, a convict in his late thirties, left a wife and children, whom family researchers until recently knew nothing about.

But some also were running from - poverty, lack of employment opportunities, perpetual incarceration and perhaps one or two with a broken heart.

In addition to running towards, I have also run away!

From a toxic environment which diminished self-esteem and which at times raised questions about my own safety.

From a failed relationship which challenges my pride and diminished my ability to give to others.

Right here, right now, I am feeling grateful.

For, at that most difficult time, finding friendships and opportunities for self expression, from which I had turned my back.

For now, a warm house, a lovely garden and a bolt hole which will become a nurturing environment for my growing grandchildren.

For the opportunity to live alone, to take full responsibility for the decisions I make, my good health and an environment nurturing of my expanding skill set, my commitment to sustainable living and my spirituality.

Right here, right now. I say thank you. To you who offer time to hear my stories.
 
Graham Jensen
August 2022

​RIGHT HERE, I am in my adopted hometown of Benalla.
 
I arrived here in February 1950 as a 17 year old school leaver for my first job, as a clerk with the Victorian Producers Co-Op (VPC).
 
Within a short period, I had met with the Hernan family, (John, Francie and their 7 children).  They gave me the home which I had never previously experienced.
 
(My mother died when I was 4 years old and I was taken from my father and housed and schooled with the Sisters of Mercy at Villa Maria in Ballarat East.)
 
I settled into Benalla and over time:
 
I married a Benalla girl – Bernadette Cooke

We built our own home,

Operated the Benalla Coin Laundrette for 17 years,

Had 4 children who succeeded at school and obtained secure employment,

Have 11 grand-children,

Studied for 7 years as a “mature aged” student,

Graduated as both a C.P.A. and a Chartered Accountant,

Went into business in an accountancy practice,

Became heavily involved in an honorary capacity in community affairs,

Was awarded an O.A.M. in Queens Birthday Honours of 2013 for that involvement,

Have been a member of the Benalla Lawns Club for 60 years,

Played more than 700 games of Pennant Bowls in the Ovens and Murray Association,

Was a Trustee of the Benalla Cemetery Trust for 43 years,

Have been a Rotarian for 37 years.

 
RIGHT NOW, I am in my twilight years, having recently celebrated my 90th birthday.
 
On looking back, I reminisce on a negative:
 
In the mid to late 1950’s I worked with the VPC in St Arnaud and Wodonga and boarded in rural hotels.  This was a backward move and I suffered from nervous debility.
 
But I can also reminisce on the many positives.  I had a very strong work ethic and can thank a Wagga Wagga neurologist for counselling me to – “study accountancy and work for yourself”.  I also had a loving family life, a successful business career and a relaxing sixty seasons on the bowling green.  I now live a contented, satisfied life.
 
Looking forward, what do I see?  A continuance of this contented life until the approaching, ultimate ….. death….. and the hereafter which cannot be too far away.
 
What of the hereafter?  My Christian upbringing tells me that I can expect retribution for my transgressions or eternal reward for a life well lived.
​
However, seemingly, current popular belief tells me that I can expect a “nothingness”.  This belief contradicts my Catholic teaching of a “resurrection of the body and life ever after”.
 
I wait in anticipation, and am comforted by having read only last week, a book titled “Heaven is for Real”.  It details the experience of a four-year old boy, Colton, who suffered a ruptured appendix and was critically ill.  Despite the adverse odds, (the surgeon thought he was beyond recall), the boy miraculously survived to tell his startled father that he had been “in Heaven, on Jesus’ lap” and told of meeting deceased family members, whose youthful photos he actually identified.
 
The rest I leave up to you!
 
 
Ray O’Shannessy,
15 August 2022

​While bath-time was happening, our father disappeared into the shed only to reappear when the bathing was over. Then he inspected everyone’s shoes. Out came the Nugget polish and polish brushes. He polished our shoes until they were gleaming. He would tell us stories of how soldiers had to have well-polished boots, not that he had ever been in the army.

He would also tell us how some people only polished the front of their shoes. They only half did the job. He said that when they were kneeling in church the unpolished heels were on display for all to see. This seemed to be his way of deciding who were competent workers. I sometimes glance at the back of shoes in church and think of my father.
 
When our shoes needed repairs his cobbler skills came into play. He was adept at mending our footwear. He had all the cobbling equipment needed for repairing worn shoes and boots – a cobblers last, a paring knife and an awl, hammer, brads, a sheet of rigid leather, hemp string, and a chunk of hard wax to coat the hemp.

Post Script....

"Right here in Benalla, right now there is an earthquake!"
 
One hour later: This month’s prompt was very apt for this story. While writing the above the earth rumbled, the ground shifted, and the house shook – a 5.9 earthquake at 9.15am on 22 September 2021.

Our house was violently shaking. I was shaking. Sean was shouting “get out”. The dog was barking. The cat was running all over the place to find somewhere to hide. I was calling the cat. Never having experienced such a phenomenon before it caused uncertainty and was frightening. All is calm now...

Elizabeth

I have always loved and related to old houses and antique furniture.

The only new house we have ever lived in was a mid-century box shape on stilts at Broulee, a seaside village on the South Coast of NSW. We had some happy times there in our holiday house with four of our six children, but as you can guess, life became too busy with weekend sport, etc., so we let it go (at a good price).

The most exciting house we ever lived in was “Blue Haze”, a 16th century thatched house in Berkshire, UK, not far from Oxford. It comprised three farm cottages formed into one house, set in a large formal garden. It oozed history. It had a fresco on the wall of an upstairs bedroom where the Catholics used to hide from Cromwell. It had the original four poster bed in it. The locals had many stories about who used that bedroom but we kept it for guests from Australia who came to stay. We were very poor living on Frank’s Fellowship allowance but rich in accommodation.

Right now we live in one of the oldest cottages in Benalla, “Barkly Cottage” in Barkly St. When we decided to down size on to flat ground, we sold Market St with its lovely outlook over the park and looked for a smart villa with a courtyard garden – nothing to be found in Benalla at that time. When I walked into 66 Barkly St with its pretty front garden, I felt a sense of “I’m Home” come over me! The front bedroom was derelict, every window and door seemed to need attention, but the newer part of the house was in good condition.

I saw the courtyards on either side, while the ancient grape vine hovering over one of the courtyards offered a piece of Tuscany for outside dining in hot weather.

The backyard was an uneven paddocks of weeds. My idea of a courtyard had grown beyond all expectations and now is too much for us. The back is now landscaped, but needs little kids to play on the huge flat lawn.

The front bedroom is now a study with bookshelves filling the wall. Peter Maher did the renovation over a 12 month period. He built cupboards and shelves, fitted them in place both in the study and other rooms, then turned painting the exterior along with general maintenance to exterior cladding. The kitchen remains dated but a joy to work in with its lovely timber benches.

The history of Barkly Cottage is interesting and goes back to the original Crown Grant of the land to James Swords in 1853. The Blackburne family lived here with nine children!

One of the interesting and well known occupants was Lorna Blair, residing here between 1962 to1981. By this time the block had been subdivided from 2023m2to 927m2. I sometimes feel her spirit in the house.

NOW

On Wednesday 22nd September I was in the kitchen at 9:18 am when I heard a tremendous roar. Suddenly everything started vibrating, until it became more violent. The house shook, a strong wind blew inside the house (nothing was open to the outside). I thought a helicopter had crashed on the roof. The floor rose and fell in waves. Yet we don’t seem to have any damage.

At 9:20 am I wondered if Lorna was disturbed in her grave.

NOW really, during an earthquake, you don’t want to be sitting in a kitchen of a house with home-made bricks and with the original hand-made glass, and wonder about its history!

At 9:20 am it had all stopped. We were lucky, and amazed that even the old chimney is still standing.
​
Thank you Lorna!


Valerie Dunin
​September 2021

​Is it possible to channel Leopold Bloom and Ivan Denisovich? Can I make my life interesting enough to compare to these two gentlemen? Can I write what is happening in my life and not divulge til after halfway through that I am Jewish? Can I write the complete description of one whole day where the best I can hope for is to not get ill?  I know it's possible to describe the events of one day, but what are we to make of it?

Lots of things still happen. In spite of all the worry we have not yet come to a complete standstill.

In a way we have reached the living standard of the 19th Century Aristocrat. Our lives have become exercises in doing nothing. We indulge in ritual to keep up medication. We spend more time on dressing. And are things worthy of consideration where we are only at the periphery of events. Can we ever describe things truthfully?

We might well ask – what is going on with the world. Can we possibly say what is happening?

How could we put the minutiae of what is happening in the world in a bottle.

At this particular time on our planet we are immersed in a great argument over whether a worldwide pandemic is legitimate. We have a substantial minority who believes that the Covid 19 virus has been hoisted on the world by a Deep State of elite figures headed by Bill Gates amongst others in order to increase their own power. Indeed the previous President of The United States advised that the pandemic was a hoax and the illness infecting the population was nothing more than a mild flu. We have close family members who believe passionately that they should have the right to refuse a covid vaccine. We have family members who passionately believe that vaccines produced by pharmacy manufactures are only experimental and are therefore dangerous to the public. We are told by others that the Pharmacy Companies are taking advantage of the situation and are enjoying great profit taking from the manufacture of vaccines.

We have friends who passionately believe that there is a worldwide push to unite the forces of the left in a conspiracy to take over the world and shut down the much cherished freedoms enjoyed by individuals up to this point. The virus which supposedly originated in China has been hoisted on the rest of the world to hasten this takeover. The deep state is infecting everyone who accepts the vaccine with a miniature chip that can then track that person for the rest of their life.

After the virus spread amongst the general community we have been subject to a series of lock downs. The public has been confined to their homes to stop the spread of the virus. So far this has been relatively successful. Australia has an advantage in that it is an island with secure borders and each state has the power to shut the borders tight. This has led to complaints in some quarters. Self interest has generated most complaints. The Government has however been able to convince the public that considering the bigger picture is the most responsible tactic in dealing with the pandemic.

On an individual level some of us have enjoyed the lock downs more than others. Anyone who previously enjoyed watching Television has been able to indulge themselves without feeling an enormous amount of guilt. People who were previously accused of wasting their lives watching television have had their revenge. Except it has transpired that unfortunately there is a limited amount of worthwhile TV to watch. The suppliers of streaming services have had a bonanza but even this source of enjoyment is close to drying up. No one knows what will occur when this happens.

Sometimes people have been able to experiment with things they often thought about but did not have the time to indulge in previously. People have been able to spend more time on the preparation of food and have been able to make slight charges to their diet. Hopefully for the better.

If I were to channel Ivan and Leopold I would say my day is this.

I get up and feed the birds. I try and commune with both Cockatoos and King Parrots. The Cockies re introverted and uninterested in me. The King Parrots are much more friendly and appear much more intelligent but are intimidated by the Cockies.

I indulge myself in long showers because there is no hurry to be anywhere.

I prepare myself a vegetarian breakfast that I hope includes all the required nutrients for a healthy body. This procedure takes approx an hour but I have the time and I listen to the BBC as I am preparing the ingredients. The Micro wave oven makes this an easy exercise. What did we do before we had microwave ovens.

I check the daily TV guide and set my recording box up to record anything worth while that is being transmitted on that day. I have the ambition to not watch what is on TV at the moment but to watch what I have considered worth watching on TV. Hence I record a number of programmes in order to watch at a later time.

I have a leisurely breakfast catching up on what I have recorded over that past few days or even past few weeks.

I sometimes have a post breakfast snooze. This can be guaranteed to always fill up my energy tank.

I cannot get through all these rituals before 12 noon.

In the afternoon I might go out and inspect the garden. And consider what I should be doing for its upkeep.

But I can always claim that the lock down says I should be inside and return to the safety of the lounge with its relaxing pillows.


Neville Gibb
​September 2021

At the close of 2019 we had a wonderful family Christmas at our daughter’s house, sharing hugs and looking forward to the new year.  At that stage there were whispers of a new virus in a province of China, a deadly and very contagious disease. We wondered if we were remote enough in Australia to dodge it.

In the New Year, our worst fears were realised -- planes and cruise ships brought thousands of people into Australia in a very short time, and some of them already had the virus. Sadly authorities were inexperienced in coping with the situation, isolation was not strict enough, or in the hands of experienced people, and the virus had a hold.

New rules for living were put into place for this disease spread by droplets. Everybody was to social distance, no socialising in groups and masks to be worn in public. Sadly this meant family gatherings like funerals and weddings were very limited, theatres and restaurants closed as well as sports venues and markets. Schools needed to be closed to all but special needs children, so lessons were done at home via internet.

Sadly, numbers kept climbing, and stage 3 restrictions came into play. People in the cities were allowed out only for urgent reasons eg. Food shopping, medical and banking, and travel was limited to a short distance. Active cases and deaths still rose, so stage 4 was activated in Melbourne. This meant 1 hour exercise daily, and a curfew between 8pm and 5am, and only 1 family member allowed out shopping. Of course essential workers and those still lucky enough to have a few hours work were exceptions. Masks were to be worn at all times in public and fines handed out to those people who took the rules lightly.

In a short time our lives had changed so much. We wondered is this the future, continual isolation and masks, and worst of all, no face to face contact with our families. At times it seems like something out of a science fiction movie.

The world has had plagues in the past. Especially in the Middles Ages, when villages shut themselves from the rest of the world. There have been serious influenza epidemics, Spanish flu took 1000’s of lives (more than ww2), Asian Flu, Sars and Aids have all been very worrying. Influenza mutates and is difficult to keep up with, but yearly injections have helped. COVID 19 will also mutate and if and when a vaccine is found, it will most likely be a yearly event.

We are old and vunerable, and have had a good life, but I feel for our children and grandchildren. What will happen when our borders are opened again to overseas travellers. My husband and I being farmers are used to relative isolation and growing our own vegetables, but the future generations will need to alter their style of living. A vaccine is the only hope, but from past epidemics eg. Polio, we know this can take time. 

On a brighter note, we have computers and mobile phones to keep up contacts. How I look forward to video chats with the family, birthdays celebrated by video (even Thomas and Caitlin’s toys have birthday parties).

Perhaps by Christmas we will all be together again.
​
 
Margaret Nelson
August 2020

A week or so ago, I helped farmer friends marshal their cows and heifers into a crush so a veterinarian could pregnancy test them.

I don’t think the cattle I’ve worked with over the years have ever been willing participants in an operation that forces them into a long race and then into the ultimate indignity of a 40cm probe with camera being inserted into their back ends. (For those who once watched All Creatures Great and Small, the probe was always a vet’s long arm).

The heifers on this day were maybe easier to handle because they were smaller and had not suffered such treatment before. But they all emitted voluminous streams of urine and faeces, to indicate their extreme nervousness, as we herded them up to the race. Strangely they seemed more settled once they were in the race and could see their colleagues moving along it and eventually exiting its confines.

Armed with a plastic paddle to prod the girls into place - the paddles are designed to emit much more noise than pain - my job was to extract about 10 cows or heifers from a yard of say 30, into three smaller pens and ideally reduce that number to four, closest to the start of the race. That was a number that gave me room to avoid aforesaid liquid projectiles and the odd kicking hoof. Strangely I nearly avoided all that as we jostled the best part of 200 cows and heifers up the race.

Towards the end of four hours I knew I was getting tired and attempted to be even more careful around vigorous back ends. However, I eventually copped a firmly planted hoof in my left calf and not much later, one cow strongly objected to my urging and simply bowled me over as she charged to the back of the yard.

The kick hardly hurt and being knocked over, thankfully, affected me little, apart from my clothes being considerably messier.

Shortly after the second incident, while questioning me about my health, the herd’s owner asked me if I had noticed that the cow that knocked me over, had also jumped over me.
​
On reflection, 'right here, right now', I'm most grateful for that, because if she hadn’t, it might have been more like a fairly gory moment from the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona.
 
David Palmer
August 2020

​Right here, right now, our world is in the grips of a pandemic known as Covid-19.  There is so much going on around our own state to keep us confused.  Rules and regulations change daily, how does one remember it all?  I am saddened to hear of so many deaths of the frail and vulnerable in nursing homes.  Others who live alone must feel so isolated from the world right now.  I can’t see any of my family as they all live across the border, yet we keep in touch the best we can.  I am patiently waiting for the day I get to see my children and grandchildren.

Coping in isolation has been relatively easy for Geoff and I.  We have both had many and varied tasks to complete, we also created extra’s.  Geoff spent many hours during the first lockdown cutting firewood for family and friends.  This he would mostly do alone, sawing the wood for others to collect in their own space and time.   He has since closed in two sides of our back veranda, creating an open ended laundry, so much nicer on cold wet days for the washer woman.  He has also completed the capping bricks around the house.  This was about 22 years after the house was built, it looks so much better now.  Geoff also made a lockable carry box to fit the caravan which holds a generator.  He is temporarily back at work near Mitre 10.

He and I have been helping a friend by feeding hay to 4 or 5 paddocks of cattle twice a week.  This gets us out of the yard for a couple of hours at a time.  Some weeks this is my only outing.

I have been completing many UFO’s (Unfinished Objects!).  Strip pieced placemats/coasters started in 2006; cushion tops x 5 almost done; a crocheted jug cover(too far back to remember); knitting beanies/ scarves for grandies and charity; making masks / pot holders; shopping bags;  lots of gardening.

The best part of lockdown has been Geoff and I spending much more quality time together, completing many chores in each other’s company. He reinforced Dad and Mum’s wooden box before I painted it.  He made a new step stool for the caravan, I painted it.  Geoff dug areas of the vegetable garden which I filled with seeds or plants.  We pruned every plant needing attention.  We have also enjoyed many hours in the evenings, watching his personal videos of music festivals, fishing trips, tractor treks, horse riding trips or general holidays.

I hope this pandemic ends soon so I can be re-united with my family and friends in NSW, re-join U3A groups, go to the library or out for dinner/coffee etc, get back in the pool, and no longer have to wear masks.

Maxine Gardiner
August 2020

​This continued isolation for Covid 19 is doing my head in right here, right now!!!!!!!!!

At times I have been talking to the walls. Any day now I swear they will answer and I will know then that I have really lost it.

Living alone with these restrictions is not for sissies and requires dedication Prior stage 3 lock-down I had no great problems with the restrictions. My project was to paint the inside of the house and that certainly helped fill in the time.

Immediately after that I found myself in hospital for 3 weeks and on arrival home found myself with little energy and even less motivation. That was when the rot started to set in. I thought jail might be an easier alternative. No housework, no shopping, no gardening and best of all no cooking!

After getting our of bed on one occasion I thought to myself “Why should I make the bed? No one sees it but me”. So I didn’t make it. I also figured with no likely visitors I could swan around for the rest of the day in my PJ’s ……...so I did. Next day I gave myself a really good talking to. I realised it would be really easy so slip into lassitude and daily monotony.

I asked a friend around for Devonshire Tea on a Saturday afternoon. The sun was shining and we enjoyed a good chat soaking up it’s rays. The sun really does lift the spirits even if the air is chilly. I also organised a Trivia night on Zoom for the Gliding Club. That was the most people I have conversed with in one sitting. It was therapeutic to enjoy the company of others even if contact was via a tiny photo on screen. It was great to have a laugh.

I now set myself a target of some sort for the day to give myself a sense of purpose. It may be something simple such as clean the fridge or tidy that cupboard. I find reaching those little goals allows me to feel happier in myself.

Like us all I miss family contact and hugs………..I really miss my hugs…………

​The fact that we know there is light at the end of the tunnel is a time to work toward.

The walls and I can’t wait

Claire Rudolph
August 2020

Listening to Dan talk about our incredible amazing time with this Virus has become a way of life for me. And I have to confess: Covid Isolation suits me nicely! I am an Isolate. During this worrying incredulous time in our lives has been a time of self realisation.

I moved to Strathbogie thirty years ago and lived a life with my Cavaliers and my Garden and my Tutoring. I only ventured into town for my work and shopping. The rest of the time I stayed tucked away in the Hills of the Strathbogie Ranges. I did not realise I was an isolate at the time; all I knew was that I loved living in my home tucked away beside the noisy creek; and across the road from the sheep lambing in the paddock. If I woke at night I would hear the newborns bleating for their first nurture from their Mum. I could hear the creek letting me know it was still moving and rumbling across the rocky base. And I could hear my Cavaliers snoring in their kennels. All I knew was that I was content. I never knew I was an Isolate.

Time to move out of the Hills and down I came. First Violet Town and now Benalla where I will stay. It was quite an adjustment. The mobile phone worked; the TV reception worked; my garden was smaller; I could walk to the shops and I did not mow for three hours a week. Cars travelled past the door and so did people. There was even a Supermarket and a Library. A vast civilised change from one General Store and four cars a night going past the gate.

Benalla has offered me; company, hobbies and wonderful people to share my interests with. Then I could scurry back to my home and be content that I had been out socially Active. I loved my time away from home. Society demands that we be social to some extent. Then Covid hit us like I have never experienced before. And self realisation set in.

The first thing I discovered was that I am a Vulnerable. Not just old but a vulnerable. And that was scary. The Virus is and has killed people with my auto immune problems in my age group. So I follow the rules to a T. This because I don't want to go out to any virus.

And I was fascinated with the development of this virus. The adaptations of the media and us general population people. I look forward to Dan's reports every day. I feel I am doing the right thing by listening and hearing other people's views. If I didn't do this I would be a true isolate who did not care; or an isolate who cared so much that life held nothing but fears.

​Privileged absolutely; I am comfortable in my multi roomed home with good heating and all my lovely memories around me. Plenty of food and Supermarkets within walking distance. I love the fact that no one is coming in the door. That I can plan my day without interruption and without feeling bad that I am not being social. Because I am not social. Lunches are my thing.

I just love to be invited as I have been socialised to believe that to not be invited is to reflect something wrong with myself. And I still love to be invited and I probably answer an invitation by attending but I am always an early leaver. Unless there is dancing and then I stay on to dance and enjoy the music. But that is not social. Just loving movement and dance and music of all kinds.

Did you know there are orchestral concerts on Utube. Did you know there is ballet on Utube. Do you know that you can feed in any artist or instrument and Utube tells you where to find them. I fed in OBOE the other day and I found great Oboe concerts to love. And listening to them in isolations is superb for me. Comfortable, warm and great music playing through the home. Magic stuff!

​I am playing Bridge online and enjoying Demystifying Psychology and now I am writing again. None of this would have developed without The Virus/Covid. And I wouldn't have discovered that Isolation suits me. I am an Isolate and quite frankly I love it.

But my family is all Over the Border or in Melbourne. So one thing I am missing is them and HUGS. They don't mind me not being around all the time because I am an Isolate and some of them are too. But those HUGS will be looked for as soon as the Restrictions are done with. HUGS AND LAUGHS and then back to being a Happy Isolate again. Doing my own thing but making sure people know I Love Them.

Helen Duggin 
24/08/2020

​Judy Perry
August 2020