NEVER DID...GET TO WRITE MORE ABOUT CANBERRA

Actually, after my return to Corning...

I FELL INTO SOMEWHAT OF A SLUMP!!!
A despondence being perhaps the nicer term

Slumps can be hard to figure out, as one can be in a slump for a while without perceiving that 'in a slump' is where you are.

Slumps can be hard to figure out due to that they are at the convergence of several factors. Or the  the slide into the 'slough of despond'  (taken from Pilgrim's Progress), is so gradual as to be almost imperceptible.  Anyway, there I was for several months.

I put it down, in part, to seasonal mismatch.  I did this to myself once before...going to Australia at the end of  Winter (here) to the early Autumn (there).  Winter really hung on here and was very cold. To give all due credit. Spring 'Down Under' was wonderful.  Lots of fine days with only one day of rain.  The problem seems to be that the days (there) are getting shorter when my constitution, at Winter's end, is expecting them to get longer.  Once back here, it was lots of rain and Spring still struggling to get going.  Perhaps a case of 'Not enough production of that happiness messenger molecule, Serotonin'.

But then too there was the signs that my dearest friend's breast cancer might have reappeared.  Uma had begun to experience pain in the hip.  It was thought that this may have been a feature of ageing. However, since this type of cancer is most likely to metastasize to the bone of the pelvic region, dark clouds of dread began to gather. And so it has proven to be.  So we are into a new round chemotherapy and tomorrow is the day when a PET scan tomorrow morning will determine whether the new treatment regime has been effective.

I suppose that I will write more about this sometime, but not yet.  Being the support for a person so situated is a difficult role and one hard to learn.  Along the way I have learned a lot about cancer; fortunately, reading journal articles is something I have done most of my life, so it has been not so difficult to turn over many in this area.  Always one is searching for the next stepping stone.  Most important of all is to surround the one you love with the best and strongest affection.

So I suppose these two streams, converging, have swept me to a place I would prefer not to be.  I am amazed at how the threads of life can so quickly come to disarray here and there.  However, I am glad to report that they are coming together and am accepting of the reality that they will do so in their own good time, so long as I keep pegging away, usually in no particular order.

Uma being no longer to rider her scooter, I have taken it over.  I thought this picture might brighten this narrative for you.

It is a 2008 Yamaha and very swish.  Just 50 cc, liquid cooled, and fuel injection.  Does 100 mpg but is strictly an 'around town' vehicle,  I had it inspected (for registration) at the local Harley Davidson shop.  They asked me how fast it would go.  They though it very funny when I told them this depended on wind direction and slope of the road!

It had been sitting around doing nothing much and seems to like being around and about.  It gets lots of attention, I can attest!

Now at the end of November. the days are really drawing in. Some are fine and relatively warm in the middle (40 to 50 deg F today), and the mornings, especially after a clear night sky, quite' brisk'




This is what my outside (outsize) thermometer showed this morning!  It got down to 10 deg F.

I think I am picking up.  It has been good to write this little piece.  I find myself looking forward to the snow, a little of which we have already seen.

Thanksgiving was fun.  The church I attend from time to time does a TG dinner for any who have no place to go.  About 100 attend.  This year I served the squash.  Late afternoon, I joined Uma and Tara (her daughter) for drinks and something TGish to eat.  A pleasant day indeed.

78 AND IN CANBERRA

Canberra is the National Capitol of Australia.  I am sitting in the reading room of the splendid National Library.  Today is my true birthday and not a day later were I in the US.

Already this has been a special day for me, my second day staying with my second daughter (my youngest child), Elizabeth, and her family.  I have just come from morning coffer with her, in the cafe at the original Federal  Parliament House, a low-slung, white painted, and stately building and now the National Museum.  A little eerie, conversing with her about her soon-to-be-written essay in her study program on librarianship, as if surrounded by a cloud of long gone politicians!
The new Parliament Building is much more splendorous and cost a great deal more.  I plan to tour it with Elizabeth next week.

The day is fine, somewhat cloudy and, despite the nearness of Winter, comfortably warm (about 60 deg F or 12 deg C).  So here I am, starting out on a new posting for my blog (LifeAccording...this time).  When my net book battery wanes, I will 'do' the newspaper room and then the latest exhibition (the Prayer Books of the House of Rothschild)  After that, a walk beside Lake Burley Griffin and then lunch.  How very pleasant!

Burley Griffin was the architect who won the world competition for the design of this city.  What an excellent job he did of it!  During the struggles leading up to Federation in 1901, the national capital was at times in Sydney and at other times in Melbourne, the capitals of the two earliest and more prominent States (New South Wales and Victoria).  Finally, after very nearly the two states coming to blows, the site of the capital was settled between the two, a little out of the way.

In the 19th Century, the states (formed independently of each other) had little to do with each other, the distance between settlements being quite vast compared with the New England towns in the US.  To go from my home city, Adelaide, to Sydney necessitated a risky sea voyage of more than a week or two.  I did this, together with four other crew, in a 33 foot sailing boat in the early 1980s, taking 11 days of continuous sailing, including one very impressive storm, lasting two days.  The southern coastline, being the Southern Ocean and at the edge of the Roaring Forties (winds), is littered with very many shipwrecks.
I very likely will write more about my time here over the next week or so.

Until then, au revoir!

ABSURDITY AT O'HARE

THEATRE OF THE ABSURD?
Blame it on the French.   Seems this approach to typifying life began with them.  On stage every thing is more than a little weird (clocks run backward and other strange effects come and go).  It all looks and sounds as of a species of insanity.

Sometimes this sense of the absurd  forces into the 'normal', when it really does assume a sense of the insane.  Perhaps to doubt the 'normal' is upsetting...'Am I loosing my mind?'

Here I am in Chicago Airport, waiting for a plane to take me to las Vegas so that once there and half a night to run, another will take me to San Francisco.  Does seem a little odd but, at times, airlines must suspend the simple approach in order to get everyone where they want to go, more of less.
After a day or so, I will board a flight to get to Sydney.  Three days later, I will catch another flight to get to Adelaide.  A week later, another flight will take me to Canberra.  Bliss, oh bliss, I shall catch a train to return to Sydney...how normal that will be.  Then it will all run backwards and, a month away, I will be back in Corning.
As Bill Clinton once confessed, I am doing this because I can.  Does seem a profligate use of energy, not to mention many other resources.  Is it not amazing that i can do such a thing?  The rationale?  I get to see family and friends I have not seen for more than two years.  Hey...I am coming up to 78 years. who is to say that I will be able to do such in a year or two more?
According to its magazine, this one airline completes almost 6000 flights a day, to places all around the globe. Perhaps as many as six million people are in the air at any one time!

Wait for it...When I was a young fellow, this was not 'the normal'.  Very few traveled internationally,  Most who did went by sea (six weeks from Australia to England); only the very rich flew (big old flying boats, seats on which cost a mint).  For most, the best chance to travel was to go off to war.  The odd friend to two who sailed away would only do this once, on their return they would settle down, get married, have children, resuming the mundane.

Amazingly, since 1985, I must have flown across the Pacific thirty or so times, not to mention other trips. So, is this not absolute absurd?

In my grandfather's time, a person who emigrated rarely returned to the land of their birth.  One said a final goodbye, shedding copious tears, then necessarily content to send and received letters to maintain contact with family and friends 'back home'

The absurdity to descends on me, sitting here in the airport, has a greater dimension; I wonder how to express it.

At base, flying is a wonderful thing.  I should know, a thousand hours or so in gliders and small planes...I have been so fortunate and had experiences, some a little hair raising, that beggar description.  There is a core of self-indulgence in this, but I would have it no other way.

But this business of huge airports, hordes crammed into tens of thousands of flying cylinders, the security rigmaroles, the noise, the inconvenience,  the sheer in humanity of it...is certainly absurd.
Not the only absurdity by any means.  We could continue onto motor cars...

How much more pleasant in the very fast train (of course (a long air trip if one lives in the US, or Australia). One buys the ticket, the train glides in on time, we find our seats, the train departs smoothly and noiselessly.  Outside, the beautiful country side, or occasional picturesque town, flashes by.
Or even the noisy, smelly, steam trains of my childhood.  Such panache, such wonder, such excitement, such wondrous noise!!!

Five overnight hours await me in Las Vegas; how about that for an absurd place?
With the wonders of the Internet, I sense the day may come when I will forgo all this and be content to see and hear loved ones.

But I will still travel...it forms the mind.

As the French have it, Les voyages forment la jeuness.

My take on this, travels keep one young.

PLASTIC AND WHAT TO DO WITH IT?

IN THE MOVIE, THE GRADUATE, the young hero, at this graduation party, is drawn aside and given advice what would be a good future....
"Plastic," he learns, "the future is plastic."
At least for the residents of the oceans, this seems to be the case.
According to EcoWatch, a joint US-Australian study estimates that 8 to 12 million tons of plastic waste enter the oceans each year.  I suppose that, over two decades,  this adds to maybe 240 million tons, forming vast gyres.

Much of this is plastic bags like the ones I see blowing around the supermarket parking area,sometimes retrieve, and put in the rubbish bins.
Here in the US, 13% of the 4.5 pounds of trash we throw away each day consists of plastic. A good deal of this ends up buried in municipal tips.
Most of the stuff in the oceans comes from China and other Asian countries, according to the study.

Although plastic bags and the like could as well be made from plant material, petroleum and natural gas are the basic constituents of the plastics we encounter.  That is a lot of fossil material...according to the US Energy Information Administration, it is about 4.4% of fossil fuel produced.  Wow!!!

The plastic gets thrown away, washes into drains when it rains, enters the rivers and, eventually, the ocean.  There some gets into fish, usually killing them.  As the plastic breaks down into molecular sized bits, it enters plankton and rises through the food chain.  At this point, lots of fish are caught by us and we eat them, thus recycling plastic in ways we never dream of.

One wonders what could be done about this.  One might be tempted to think that, if just this is perhaps the one thing that, if fixed, would make a great difference...well worth attempting.

'Dream on, Robert', do I hear you say?

A Popular Science article (The Garbage Man) tells the amazing story of Mike Biddle who unearthed how recover plastic constituents from waste plastic so that these can be recycled as new plastic material for 10% of the cost of making the stuff from fossil fuel stock. He still has a research plant here in the US but had to give up recycling due to not being able to get enough raw waste materials.  Seems we only recycle 13% of plastic over here.  Now he has operations in China, the UK, and Austria.

What blows my mind is the possibility that plastic material can be recycled at a 90% saving in manufacturing costs while, at the same time, providing a powerful economic incentive to get on with crude recycling operations that would prevent plastic ever getting into the oceans.  AMAZING!!!

Here is George Biddle where he loves to be,