Just droning on

 

 

No, I haven't bought a fancy drone with an inbuilt camera; instead, I "stole" this aerial photograph from an online real estate advertisement. Thank you, Elders! It shows our walk from "Riverbend" across the bridge to the village and back.

 

The RIVER CAFÉ before it opens

 

We haven't walked for a few weeks but must start again before our lethargy turns terminal. Perhaps, as the days get cooler, we may feel more energetic and start walking again. Anyone interested can join us, either as a mental traveller or in person. We even offer them a cup of coffee at the RIVER CAFÉ if they can correctly locate "Riverbend".

 

Googlemap Riverbend

 

I have a confession to make

 

Soundtrack from Western "Once Upon a Time in the West"

Tiefstes Niedersachsen im Jahre 2006.  Eine Ecke von allen guten Geistern verlassen bis auf diesen letzten Posten der Deutschen Bahn.  Wenn über diese Schienen ein Zug rollt, ist ein Mann zur Stelle: Schrankenwärter Laumann.  Er bewacht diesen Bahnübergang am Ende dieser Sackgasse bei Großdüngen.  Und dieser Bahnübergang ist einzig und allein für die Bewohner dieses gottverlassenen Häuschens da.  Ein einsamer Job.  

"Dort zu linker Hand ist Richtung Großdüngen und sonst ist ja hier weiter nichts außer diesem Posten hier und diesen zwei Familien hier drüben."

Ein Posten für ein Haus mit zwei Familien.

"Heute ist ein Auto noch gar nicht rübergefahren. Pferd hab ich heute auch noch nicht gesehen."

Wenn ein Zug kommt, muss Schrankenwärter Laumann so schnell wie möglich handeln - WENN ein Zug kommt.  (Telefon läutet) Wenn dann also ein Zug kommt, muss jeder Handgriff sitzen, denn jetzt zählt jede verdammte Sekunde. (Schranken schließen sich) Alles sauber vorbereitet.  Der Zug kann kommen.  

"Schranken geschlossen"

In Momenten wie diesen ist Erfahrung gefragt.  (Er winkt und der Zug fährt vorbei) Der Zeitplan ist eng und heute steht noch einiges auf der Tagesordnung.  

"So heute ist Dienstag.  Dienstag müssen wir Signalmittel prüfen.  Fangen wir 'mal mit dem Signalhorn an." (Er bläst ins Signalhorn)  "Signalhorn ist in Ordnung."

Irgendwann ist die Schicht zu Ende.  Laumann ist einer von drei Schrankenwärtern die hier im Schichtdienst arbeiten.  Gleich kommt die Ablösung.  Alfred Laumann hat Feierabend und fährt nachhause.  Und so überquert heute dann doch noch ein Auto die Schienen.

[Translation]

 

I have a confession to make: at five o'clock this morning, while the kettle was still boiling, I had a quick look at BHP's overnight prices in London and New York and both are up — again! —by a little over a dollar on yesterday's closing price in Sydney. Will Sydney open higher by at least a dollar? Of course it will!

Here's another confession I have to make: there are some days when, just like Schrankenwärter Laumann, I feel bored and I need to remind myself of what one of my ex-colleagues from my New Guinea days keeps telling me, "Peter, you've done enough for at least two lifetimes."

Schrankenwärter Laumann's weekly highlight is Tuesdays when he checks the readiness of his signalling horn (2:32); mine is on Thursday when I wheel out the garbage bin for next morning's collection, which takes care of two days of the week as I wheel it back in again on Friday.

As for the rest of the week, I read books on Sundays, and also on Wednesdays and Saturdays and Tuesdays and Mondays. Ocassionally, I break my schedule and ponder what the hell made me retire so early instead of working on challenging overseas contracts for another ten, fifteen, even twenty years - enough years for at least a third lifetime!

No more navel-gazing! It's Thursday! Time to wheel out the garbage bin!

 

Googlemap Riverbend

 

Our beautiful neighbourhood

 

 

During yesterday's visit to Innes' Boatshop I once again admired the beautiful "South Coast is Calling" images by 'The Canberra Times' cartoonist David Pope. In the style of vintage travel posters, the images remind people of what they love about the beautiful Far South Coast, which for many is a place to visit and "reset at the end of a year".

 

 

These images are inspiring even to us lucky few who call the Far South Coast home, and are available at redbubble.com/people/coastiscalling.

Each is available as poster, a framed or unframed art print, a greeting card or a notepad, and visible in an 'also available on' link on each page.

I may order some greeting cards to mail to my friends here and abroad.

 

Googlemap Riverbend

 

That's good "ENOUGH!" for me

 

A chart is worth a thousand words

 

The share market can teach you a lot about life. Yesterday, by mistake, I pressed the SELL instead of the BUY button, which cost me a couple of thousand dollars. This cost, more an opportunity cost than a real cost, increased by $14,200 today when the shares went up another $1.42.

And yet, it's pointless to look back, since yesterday's mistake could just as easily have been a blessing if the shares had dropped in price today. And so it is also in life, although we do keep looking back and either flagellate or congratulate ourselves in hindsight about something that at the time had been completely unknown to us and outside our control.

And then there's the other thing: when to say "ENOUGH!" Making money is a bit like stamp-collecting: unless you clearly define and put a limit on it, there is always another stamp you will be chasing. So instead of collecting all stamps, why not limit yourself to Australian stamps of the pre-decimal period, so that one day you can happily say, "ENOUGH!"

I reached the "ENOUGH!" stage when I read that overnight in New York BHP had gone up another 2.1% to US$79.65 which, when converted into Australian dollars, equals $112.34 or $56.17 a share (the American Depositary Shares (ADSs) equal two Australian shares). Right on cue, BHP was up $1.60 to $56.35 when we left just after 10 o'clock to have a lunch of fish'n'chips with two good friends at Innes' Boatshed in the Bay.

 

left-to-right: yours truly, Frank, Frank's wife Robyn; Padma is hiding behind the camera

 

Of course, you never get away from the Bay before you've met several other people and spent several more hours talking and talking and then talking some more. The bad news is that a friend's wife up the road has been diagnosed with multiple myeloma and is receiving chemotherapy.

Being no stranger to cancer myself, we stopped at their house on the way back but no-one was home. It once again reminds me how quickly life can take a nasty turn, and of how little importance money is when the health is gone. It's just after 3 o'clock and the market is still open for an hour but I won't bother to check again. BHP was still up $1.42 to $56.17 when I last checked the chart. That's good "ENOUGH!" for me.

 

Googlemap Riverbend

 

The Bonegilla Migrant Hostel

 

 

Today's asylum seekers get put up in beautiful inner-city hotels and often live off the government's purse for years without ever giving anything back to their host country. Not so back in 1965 when I arrived and in 1961 when this photo was taken.

We were bundled into ex-army camps, of which Bonegilla was the biggest, and lived under spartan conditions, which made some of us wonder what we had got ourselves into. We were quickly bundled in and quickly bundled off again to such inhospitable places as the Snowy Mountains, to do jobs no locals wanted to do. We were grateful all the same, and quickly learned the language and integrated and assimilated.

Take a good look at this brilliant photo taken in February 1961 at Bonegilla. All those young faces - all Germans who had arrived on the same flight - ready to start a new life in a new country. They helped to build the nation that some of today's aylum seekers want to tear down.

 

Googlemap Riverbend