It is now summer - in autumn

 or so it would seem. We are having the sort of weather and the sort of temperatures we should have had in December, in January, in February. It has not rained for weeks now. 

I am trying to remember what it was really like when I was a mere kitten and I am certain I am not mistaken. Summer really was warmer then wasn't it?

 We had many hot days in the long summer holidays from school. Mum would still toss us outside to "find a shady spot" unless it was too hot even for that. We played games outside even in the heat. We wore shorts and floppy linen hats.

By the time school went back in the first week of February it would still be warm. There would be the occasional very hot day - "over a hundred" in the old Fahrenheit units - but the temperatures would gradually be settling down. By March the temperatures might still be "rather warm" but they were cooling down.

Right now we have had temperatures which are unseasonably warm. No, this is not "climate change". Global temperatures may be getting warmer but this is not climate change. There are apparently other things affecting our weather. I do not pretend to understand the science. I do know that the "cyclone" on the east coast probably had something to do with it all - but the cyclone itself was, thankfully, a  bit of a fizzer. They may have had too much rain and consequent flooding but, while bad, the whole thing could have been much worse than it was.

I looked at the weather forecast for the rest of the week. It still says over 30'C for each day. There is a hint, just a hint, of a possible shower or two over the weekend even with a forecast of temperatures in the high thirties. I wonder.

"Can't they make it rain?" a small friend asked the other day. His "garden" (in two pots) has died in the heat but he has said, "I'll do it again because I want to take it to school for show and tell."

It reminded me of taking my saucer of wheat to school. It was grown  on a small wad of cotton wool and kept damp until the wheat sprouted. We all had to do the same thing. When that was done we had to follow the story of the wheat right through to the end result of a loaf of bread. As a kitten from the country I already knew far more about this than any city child. I was bored by the simplicity of what the teacher was telling us. I had seen farmers plant and harvest. I had seen bags of wheat (as they were then) and I had been to visit the mill which had supplied flour to the little bakery. I had watched the baker too...and eaten the results still warm from the ovens in the bakery.

Brother Cat and Middle Cat went through the same lessons. I found a page of Middle Cat's work about it when we were clearing the house. Mum had kept it for some reason.  Mum was not sentimental but the occasional thing came to light. There was nothing at all belonging to me but something from each of the others. It all made me wonder how they remembered their own kittenhood.

It has to be different now. I doubt that little T... learns about bread in the way we did. His "show and tell" garden if he does remake it may be the only "garden". He is learning about gardens from his grandfather not his father and not his teacher. There is no time for that at school.

Things are changing and perhaps the weather is changing too. I still doubt that weeks of temperatures in the thirties and no rain at all is "normal" now. It is a blip in the system. Things will go on changing but they will do it slowly. 

"We have processes we have to follow"

is the response Middle Cat is going to get from the executors of the Senior Cat's estate.  No, it is still not settled after three years. It is more than twelve months since the Black Cat took the rest of us to court and demanded more than she was entitled to - and won.

Middle Cat being the one who has dealt with the financial issues (because her partner is very able in this area) she is also the one trying to move the executors on so that we do not have the added issue of Capital Gains Tax. I do not think it is going to work. The executors could do this but they have no reason to do it. They can delay the final stages of settling the estate, indeed seem determined to do just that.  

The entire saga has had major financial implications for me. I was prepared for some of the issues of course. I was looking for alternative accommodation long before it became essential. Many of the difficulties were caused by what I could not do rather than by what I could do.

In all this the executor company has not been supportive. Indeed it has gone out of its way to make even more difficulties. I expressed some concerns when the Senior Cat's affairs were handed to an employee I had previously had dealings with. We were told she would always be "monitored" and if we had "concerns" they would be "listened to" but they were not prepared to change the arrangement.  In the end I was proven right. She was "asked to leave". 

At that point we had already done most of the work. We had another plan in place, one which would have allowed me to stay in the family home at least for some years. Instead of that there were delays that were never explained to us. Despite repeated inquiries we were given excuse after excuse. People outside the executor company were blamed for delays even when documents had not even been sent to them. 

All this allowed the Black Cat to become impatient and talk to other people who encouraged her to believe that something was not "fair". The law working the way that it does meant that the outcome was not what the Senior Cat intended. There was another delay. It is now fourteen months since we learned of the Black Cat's challenge. Everything had to come to a halt. I was told I could not do anything. We could not remove anything from the property, even things belonging to me.  The executors wanted to come into court with us even when they stated they would not be part of any challenge. On legal advice we told them to stay out of it. The judge and the barrister both said we had made the right decision. The executors would simply have delayed things further and charged us more.

Settlement on the sale of the property came at the end of February after a great deal of work and stress. It has caused friction between all of us at times. The executors tell us the delays are our fault. They would have sent a company in to "clear" the property - at a very high fee. We would not have had any control over anything and a great many things of value would simply have been placed in a skip to be dumped. The executors were not happy we did not use their "clearance" people.  Of course they weren't. It meant no extra fee for them. 

I sat down with my financial adviser. He is a man I know well. I like him and trust him. Once the issue of the codicil was resolved there was no cause for any of the delay. The Senior Cat's affairs were simple. They were in good order. His tax returns were up to date. It should have taken no more than six months at the most to finalise the matters that needed to be dealt with. 

Three years later we are now facing another hefty bill. This time it will be for "capital gains tax" because the executors are once again dragging their feet. All the information has been with them for weeks. It was only settlement which was holding things up. 

My advice to other people is this - do not use an executor company. Get your will properly drawn up by a solicitor. Appoint someone you trust as an executor. That person does not need to do all the work. They simply need to see that it is done. It will be much faster. It will also save your estate a lot of money. 

"Fritz fritters" or "devon" or "German"

"luncheon meat" or "sausage" - those of you reading it in America might also think of it as a type of "spam".

"Fritz" is generally how it is known in this state - pale pink, floppy and full of fat, salt and other items best not talked about. It is cheap enough for butchers to hand over "free" slices of it to young children. There is even a version which has a "smiley" face right through it in slightly darker "meat".  

It is vile stuff but beloved by many. I have a cousin whose favourite form of sandwich is "fritz and tomato". For many other people it is "fritz and tomato sauce" (ketchup to some of you). 

I was forcefully reminded of this a few minutes ago when I read of someone admitting he did not know too much about cooking but he could make "fritz fritters". Yes, it all came flooding back to me. I was back at high school in the city for just a short while and I was living in a hostel for female students. Most of the students were at university or teacher training college. There were just eight of us still at school and I was the youngest by far. It was not a happy experience for me - only marginally better than the boarding school I went to the following year. 

The food was dreadful - although again not as bad as the food at boarding school. There would be a revolt now but back then we put up with it because at least there was plenty of it. We were supposed to get our lunchtime sandwich somewhere else but I had no extra pocket money - just enough for the bus pass to and from school. I took the Vegemite sandwich I made myself from two slices of bread filched at breakfast. I ate the cooked breakfast - except on Fridays. 

I could never face the Friday breakfast. It was always the same - "fritz fritters". These were slices of the dreaded "meat" dipped in batter and deep fried. They were greasy. They were soggy. They smelt vile. My fellow students devoured these with apparent pleasure. They would clamour to have my share. I was happy, only too happy, to pass them over. I tried not to watch as they slathered them in tomato sauce.  I am allergic to an ingredient in tomato sauce so I would have been eating them without the flavour disguised by tomato sauce.  Ugh! 

Now these things would be regarded as seriously unhealthy but they were eaten with apparent enjoyment. I do not remember anyone being fat. I do remember all the bicycles stored at the back of the building so perhaps the fritz fritters were worked off during the day.

I remember telling my mother about these things. She thought I was making it up in an effort to get some pocket money to spend at school. If it was true then I should just have eaten them. I just could not do it. Even now the thought of them makes me feel queasy.

I do wonder what would happen if they were presented to a group of hungry teenage boys. Would they eat them?

 

"Are you going to get another dog?"

I ask my friend. 

It is not the sort of question I would normally ask a very elderly friend but it is the right sort of question to ask on this occasion. She  loves dogs and has not actually had one of her own since she could no longer walk one on the twice daily basis she deemed essential.

No, T... has a dog in other ways now. She "adopts" an assistance dog in training. She has done this since her neighbour's child was given one. That dog was trained to alert an adult to the little boy's epileptic seizures.  A dog like that can make a vast difference to the life of not just the person who needs the dog but all the family.

The family has moved on but T... has gone on adopting a dog in training. Each time one dog goes she has adopted another by paying for all that needs to be done. Training a dog is not a cheap exercise.

"But it is so worth it," T... tells me. 

I can only agree. There was an assistance dog in the shopping centre yesterday. It is paired with a woman who has poorly controlled diabetes and anxiety related to that diabetes because it can lead to unexpected incidents. The dog was just sitting quietly at her side as she spoke to someone she knows. As I went past she acknowledged me. On my way back from the greengrocer I saw her sitting at a table outside one of the coffee shops. I stopped and asked if she was okay,

"Yes. Thanks for asking. I'm getting something. This one knew." She looked down at the dog who appeared to be asleep by her feet. She was actually alert. One ear twitched slightly.

I had no qualms about leaving them. The owner of the coffee shop knows them both. 

This woman can go out and about, do the shopping and more because of her dog. Her husband can still go to work.  The dog does her job too.

And yes T... is going to get another dog. She will take an interest in it and how it goes during training. It is the dog she cannot have herself now she can no longer care for one. 

 

$20 for lunch?

Ouch! How many people can afford to let their child buy lunch at school if that is the sort of price you have to pay? 

Okay that was one of the higher prices. In the article one of them went up even higher than that. 

The lowest price seemed to be $6.50 at a school where the canteen is still run by the parents on a volunteer basis. That lunch consisted of a sandwich, a piece of fruit and a drink. 

It seems however that "time poor" parents do not have time to see that their children take lunch with them. Are they the same parents who buy that daily coffee and their own lunch? 

Buying our lunch at school was a major treat. It was almost unheard of for us to be allowed to do it. Our parents did not do it either. Most of the time of course we lived in rural areas where there was no school canteen. Everyone brought their lunch to school. There were Vegemite sandwiches, jam sandwiches, meat left over from Sunday sandwiches and 'roo sandwiches. Cheese and gherkin sandwiches appeared once in a while if your mother was feeling generous. If there happened to be a tomato handy it might get added to the cheese. On rare occasions there might be an egg sandwich. That was a treat too.

You would probably get a bit of cake or a biscuit - homemade - and you might get a bit of fruit. You drank water unless your mother let you have "a bit of cordial" in the bottom of the drink bottle - which you then filled with water from the tap. 

The only "bought" thing which appeared with any regularity were the "Bush" biscuits. These were about the size and shape of some mobile phones. Some of the boys would have two of these - sandwiched together with butter - for "recess".  

Other bought biscuits appeared more often in the city but there was still homemade cake or biscuits to go along with the sandwich. Sandwiches were white bread of course. Brown bread was almost unknown. Grain breads, rye breads, wraps and other forms of "bread" were unknown. 

If you bought your lunch the choice was limited to pie, pasty, sausage roll, roll or sandwich. There were things like "cream" buns, "finger buns" or "custard tarts" for afters...if you were very lucky. Now most of these things are considered to be unhealthy by the food police so the "vegetarian wrap" comes into play instead. 

"Most of it is yuck" I was told by one earnest seven year old. 

Last Sunday Middle Cat and I spent all day at the Fibre Feast. I cut lunch for both of us - multigrain rolls with ham for her and cheese for me. I added cherry tomatoes and small celery sticks. There was a rather special biscuit for later in the afternoon. We drank water and then, as a treat, iced chocolate for me and iced coffee for her. That was all we bought. We might not even have bought that but we wanted to support the vendors who were making the effort to be there. 

It did not cost us $20 even for two. If we had not bought the drinks it would not even have cost the $6.50 it would cost for one at the school. Yes, I had the time to prepare it - or rather, I made time to prepare it.  I was able to observe some of the other stall holders around me. Some of them did as we did. Others bought the hot chips and other treats which were available.  

One person in passing said, "That looks so good". I did not say "You could have done it too" because I knew she had come from interstate and was probably in a motel for the night. 

It was good. It is not to say we would not have enjoyed fresh hot chips or a wrap prepared by someone else or liked to have taken advantage of the "bacon and egg" breakfast offering earlier in the day. It is just that we did not need it and we did not need to spend the money...but we still had that small treat. We had the treat, a day out and money to spend on something else which would be a permanent reminder of the day if we wanted one.  

There is a cyclone heading

towards the north east coast of the country! Help! There is a major disaster at hand! There will flooding! There will be high winds!

I do not for one moment want to suggest that a cyclone, any cyclone, is not a serious weather event. They are. They can do a lot of damage. People can lose everything, including their lives.

The problem here seems to be that, unlike some parts of the world, a cyclone is a rare event. There has not been a cyclone of this forecast magnitude for over fifty years. The vast majority of people will have no memory of such an event. They do not know what to expect. It is the unknown which is as frightening as the reality. 

I am not in the cyclone area. My home is a very long way from that. I am actually hoping for something positive from it. That positive would be water, a lot of water. It is just possible that the potentially devastating floods from a cyclone could also help by adding water to our river system. We need it. This state has not had any rain for weeks and weeks now. We need rain. They are carting water in the hills behind us. Yes, it is that serious.

Of course the cause of the cyclone has been said to be "climate change". The warmer surface temperature of the ocean is apparently the trigger. I won't discount that as a cause - although I wonder what happened last time. 

All this has political ramifications as well. Up until the point where the cyclone looked like causing damage in that part of the country it was possible that we would go to the election on April 12. Now it may not be until May. It would be difficult to hold an election while there is widespread flooding and damage. After April 12 we have Easter and Anzac and neither of those week ends are available. We will be heading into May instead. 

It may suit the government but if they want to avoid bringing down another budget then it will be a six week campaign. That is something they may also want to avoid. My guess is that our Prime Minister will be praying for the cyclone to go south at sea and for the damage to be minimal. He will also be praying for the result of a state election on the other side of the country to still be strongly in his favour.

I am glad I do not live in the likely cyclone zone and I am glad I am not the Prime Minister weighing up when to go to Government House. I hope there is not too much damage caused by the cyclone but, naughtily, I am happy for it to cause concern for the politicians.  

"70+hrs saving lives"

was the response from one of those who finally responded to Elon Musk's demand to know what they had been doing in the past week. As a doctor she simply did not have the time to respond even if she had wanted to do so. 

Her colleagues wrote similar things. It was her husband who sent me the responses he had gathered. He does not work for a government department but his fury matched that of some of those required to respond to the ridiculous demand.

I know that there is a lot of wastage in any "public service". I have no doubt that there could be greater efficiency but this is not the way to achieve it. It is also obvious to me that some of the most "precious" ideas, items and plans could be cut without any harm to anyone. A great deal of paperwork and duplicated paper work could be removed at no harm to anyone. 

I know about these things because I have had to waste time on them myself. I am not an employee of the US government but I have worked with many people who are. More than once I have been required to fill out forms which do not apply to me in any way but they are "required" by someone or "it is what everyone needs to do". Apparently this is essential even if you are not being paid. Many of these forms run to multiple pages. The language is arcane and the demands sometimes outrageous. Is it really necessary to show the addresses of everywhere I have lived? There is no security issue involved in my role but someone clearly thinks it is a good idea to ask the question. 

I have resorted to keeping a file with all sorts of such information in it so I can access it readily without having to think. I make sure that the person demanding the information knows if it is - or should be - on file already. That is part of the problem. They are so overloaded with information they cannot find it. File it on the computer? Apparently their systems do not allow for that.

I am now waiting for that email from Elon Musk, unelected hit man, asking me what I have been doing in the past week. It is almost bound to come. Someone will think I am an employee, an unpaid employee, and send it to me. It will be a great pleasure to respond to it but my response will not be printable here or in other public space.