Two Becs in an Overgrown Paddock: Working in regional Australia

I once had a good friend from the city bewilderingly ask me – ‘what do you do up there on your hill? How do you fill in the time?’ Conversely, I received another comment from another friend on what a lot of work a farm can be. A third recently wondered how I fit all my different jobs into a day. Well… Continue reading

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It was my birthday and I cried because I wanted to


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** In a sad note today, we have heard the little boy passed away peacefully this afternoon (Wednesday Nov 25). There are no words, except to say we are thinking of him and his family.

With my four-year-old at a not-for-profit community preschool, I sit – not very well admittedly – amidst a wonderful preschool committee. Not so long ago – about 8 weeks ago actually – our committee heard about the sibling of one of our preschool children. The seven-year-old had once attended our preschool but was diagnosed with cancer early this year. Now, after several months of treatment, they stopped it. It wasn’t working.

I wonder at the power of empathy and if humanity listened to it more would the world be a better place?  For myself, after I heard the news I would just start crying at odd times. I have shed tears all over the place, and I don’t even know the family. And it wasn’t just me.

It very quickly became obvious to us all that we had to do … something. After all, though nothing could fix this, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps there is some small comfort in knowing that your community cares.

So, the preschool committee kicked into gear and this is the result. Continue reading

Summer’s Story

“Out on the patio we’d sit,
And the humidity we’d breathe,
We’d watch the lightning crack over canefields
Laugh and think that this is Australia”

Sounds of Then (This is Australia), GANGgajang, written by M. Callaghan, released 1985

I love this song. To me it encapsulates the feeling of summer in Australia. That refrain particularly. I can’t articulate why or how, but when I hear it, images flash across my mind, fleeting yet intense, all hot and sultry. Cotton, sweat beading on skin, heat that means you can’t move, the click of a ceiling fan in motion, icey drinks. For me, it’s evocative and takes me some place else. Continue reading