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Today's quote:

Saturday, February 28, 2026

Welcome to my blog!

 

 

𝕴 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖘𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖇𝖚𝖇𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖒𝖞 𝖔𝖜𝖓 𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖇𝖚𝖙𝖊 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖆𝖎𝖑 𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖙 𝖗𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖇𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖓𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖊𝖓[𝕬𝕿]𝖒𝖆𝖎𝖑.𝖈𝖔𝖒

 

I had to add this little preamble because something has gone wrong with the software. For some reason the sidepanel does not display unless I add this fixed "Welcome" post and a second "blank" to the top. The mysteries of computer software. Perhaps I should stick to playing my accordion. Last night a neighbour hammered on the door. It was already past midnight! Luckily, I was still awake and playing my accordion — I'm only joking; we live on seven acres and the only neighbour is the river.

 


I love a good nap

 

 

I love a good nap. Sometimes it's the only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning. This afternoon I fell asleep on the old sofa on the verandah with the radio still playing. Then I woke up again and heard four people discussing their messed-up family affairs.

A woman's voice said, "My parents came to visit. My partner told them that she ..." I didn't care about what she said; all I heard was the personal pronoun. Then a male voice chipped in, "It was the same with my partner. He said ..." Again, all I heard was the personal pronoun.

That was two out of four participants in a family discussion on ABC Radio National being queer! Surely, that is not representative of our nation, so why push it down our throats? They are, like Muslims, only a tiny percentage of our population, and yet, like with Muslims, we are expected to adjust our lives to their totally different way of life.

Homosexuality is not normal. A man kissing another man is not normal. A man wanting to be treated like a woman is not normal. Before their professional associations were taken over by outside pressure and internal subversion, every psychiatrist treated it as a mental illness which comes from early childhood sexual or emotional trauma.

And it's all shoved down our throats in the name of political correctness, a doctrine, fostered by a delusional, illogical minority, and promoted by mainstream media, including the ABC, which holds forth the proposition that it is entirely possible to pick up a piece of shit by the clean end.

And to all those shining wits who wouldn't recognise a spoonerism if it hit them in the face, I say, "Get a life" or, better still, "Get a job". And to the ABC, I say, "Please be more representative of Australian society."

 


Googlemap Riverbend

 

Once upon a time ...

 

Same book, different reader - click here

 

In 1935, with a doctorate in art history and no prospect of a job, twenty-six-year-old Ernst Gombrich was invited to attempt a history of the world for younger readers. Amazingly, he completed the task in an intense six weeks, and "Eine kurze Weltgeschichte für junge Leser" was published in Vienna to immediate success. It is now an international bestseller and available in almost thirty languages across the world.

In forty concise chapters, Gombrich tells the story of man from the Stone Age to the atomic bomb. In between emerges a colorful picture of wars and conquests, grand works of art, and the spread and limitations of science. This is a text dominated not by dates and facts but by the sweep of mankind’s experience across the centuries, a guide to humanity’s achievements and an acute witness to its frailties. The product of a generous and humane sensibility, this timeless account makes intelligible the full span of human history.

 

To read it in its original German, click here

 

The book was written for younger readers, but isn't old age supposed to be a second childhood? Anyway, there's nothing better than to listen to this beautifully read audiobook while reclining in my usual position on the sunny verandah. I could even listen to it in its original German - click here - but, strangely, after more than sixty years away from the (c)old country, even a German book sounds better when read in English.

 


Googlemap Riverbend

 

That's about all I can shut up in my own house ...

 

 

When Padma went to the post office yesterday to pay the next twelve months' mailbox fee, she also picked up a 2026 calendar for the kitchen. "If it's Monday, it must be lentil soup; if it's Tuesday, it must be Chinese stir fry ..." She is such an impulse-buyer: I had expressly told her to wait until June to get it at half-price!

While there, she met an elderly acquaintance whose friend in Sydney is bedridden with advanced pancreatic cancer. This elderly acquaintance now drives to Sydney once a week and also phones her each night to talk to her over the phone. Human kindness at its best! But here comes the kicker: his friend has now registered him as one of her NDIS-carers and the government pays him a fat professional fee. Next thing I know he'll get himself his own ABN! Human kindness monetised! Ka-ching!

By the way, that kitchen clock emits on the stroke of each hour the sound of the bird shown. All the birds are European ones unknown to me. Mercifully, they stop calling during the night; in fact, I can even shut them up during the day by putting my hand over the light sensor.

That's just about all I can still shut up in my own house these days; everything else is up to the gods and whatever mood Padma is in.

 

 

Speaking of which, I have just joined the 3-Day Challenge which may make me a little short-tempered and abrasive in the next few days.

 


Googlemap Riverbend