Take a running jump into your day…and throw caution to the wind!
Janet waving at the camera for me at 12,000 feet…
You just wouldn’t be dead for quids, hey!
Baz, The Landy
inspiration
No Ordinary Moments; No Ordinary People; No Ordinary Lives
There are no ordinary moments, no ordinary people, no ordinary lives…
No matter who you are, where you are, or what you are doing…
This photograph was captured in the village of Menari, in the jungles of Papua New Guinea with myself and a truly remarkable man.
He was one of the “fuzzy-wuzzy angels” who helped Australian and American troops in the fierce jungle battles along the Kokoda Track and other places along the Papuan Coast during the second world war.
We have much to thank them for…
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Dope on a Rope
Just hanging out, on a climb called “Sweet Dreams”…
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Tawny Frog-Mouth and Baby (Too Cute)
Photo: Baz – The Landy
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You don’t know how lucky you are
Today marks a very special occasion for Janet’s family, it would have been her father’s 100th birthday.
Archie was in his 99th year, before slipping away from us last year.
He never experienced any major health problems during his lifetime, and his love of life alone would have been enough to see him through many more years, but his frail body said it was time for him to hang up his hat for the final time…
We were lucky to have been able share his charm, wit, wisdom…his warmth, for so long.
We will celebrate his wonderful life this weekend, surrounded by family and friends, and whilst perhaps there will be a tinge of sadness there will be plenty of laughs in what will be a joyous occasion for all…
And as I went for a walk through the park this morning I swear I heard him whisper his most famous line, the one that always brings an infectious smile to your face, the line that sums him up perfectly.
“You don’t know how lucky you are”…
Ps: How cool is Archie on that motor-bike!
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The loss of a loved one
The enormity of losing a loved one, a friend, is only surpassed by the haplessness one feels that they did not hear or recognise those faint cries for help…
Six years have now passed since we lost a very dear friend, a sister, a daughter.
Marion, one of four Fawthrop girls and Janet’s sister, suffered greatly from a terrible affliction called Meniere’s disease. Tragically, just ahead of her 50th birthday the pain of Meniere’s, which had come and gone throughout her life, became far too much to bear any longer and she sought the refuge, the comfort of another world where she could be freed from the bondage of the pain it caused her.
In those early times following Marion’s passing we all shed many tears, and a day never passes where Marion isn’t still a part of our lives, a casual smile here, your mind’s eye seeing her dressed up in all her finery.
Marion loved to dress up, to party.
And still, there are those moments where the tears well in our eyes…
Please take the time to understand the suffering that people afflicted with Meniere’s experience, and if you are able, please support either the Australian Meniere’s Research Foundation, or perhaps locate one in the country you live in.
Personally, I take great comfort knowing that wherever Marion is, she will be dressed to the ‘nines, holding court, a small glass of champagne in one hand, and a packet of fags in the other. It wouldn’t be any other way – and crikey, ain’t that the truth…
Baz, The Landy…
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As Dry as a Dead Dingo’s Donga
We are off into the Australian Outback tomorrow, in fact it will be a journey of epic proportions through some of Australia’s most remote desert country.
You can read some more about our trip by clicking here.
But hey, no need to fret if you don’t spot me around your blog for a couple of weeks or so I haven’t given you the flick or anything like that, after all what else would I do during the daily commute at 6:30am in the morning if it wasn’t for your blog?
Crikey, where else could you read about a woman in a bikini or get a fill of skinny pirates or hear some bent woman using a very naughty word hell I love it when she talks like that as she was sweating it out.
Okay, and don’t go thinking you’re not a favourite either just ‘cause you didn’t get a mention, strewth you’re a fickle lot today, aren’t you!
I just won’t be in range for the normal communication devices to work! You know, those techo gadgets, iPhones and WiFi thingy’s…
Although, you will be able to keep tabs on me.
Yeah, that perked you back up a bit didn’t it, I can see you’re excited about that prospect… 😉
If you get a chance make sure you take a bloody look at the blog posts I have scheduled each day and by clicking “The Landy“ link in it you’ll see a map that shows just where we are “lost” in this Sunburnt Country of ours…
How cool is that!
Every so often I’m hoping to be able to share some of the magnificent landscapes I capture on my trusty Nikon 600 Camera, so keep an eye out for that!
I will actually be doing some running while I’m crossing the desert to prepare for the 100-kilometre running race I am lining up for this September. Yeah I’m hearing you– talk about dumb ideas spawned out the bottom of an empty beer bottle, but if you’re in need of a bit of a giggle just click here.
Rest assured the desert country will be as “dry as a dead-dingo’s donga” so you know what that means – a couple of beers a day to quench that thirst. Strewth, you wouldn’t be dead for quids!
Hey, take care, and I can see it is no use telling you to be good, and remember the motto I live by… if all else fails, just remain out of control and see what develops!
Photo: Baz – The Landy
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Touring the Australian Outback (Where is Baz – The Landy)
Whilst it may seem I have disappeared from the face of the earth, rest assure, I am alive and kicking, still larger than life, head-down and exercising…
And I have been preparing the troops, and yes, that would be Janet and TomO, for an upcoming adventure into the Australian Outback.
In about one week’s time we will be pointing ourselves westward towards the Flinders Ranges and the Birdsville Track.
In fact, this will be a sentimental journey, of sorts, for us as Brian, my father, longed to take a trip along the “Track” in the footsteps of Tom Kruse, The Outback Mailman.
Many may recall that Brian passed away last year and so as a tribute to him we are making the journey accompanied by my mother, Fay, the love of Dad’s life for near on 60 years! But he’ll be with us….for sure!
Our trip along the Birdsville Track will take us in the footsteps of the famous Australian Outback Mailman, Tom Kruse.
Tom delivered mail to the many cattle stations along the track in a “Blitz Truck” arriving at Birdsville, in far Western Queensland, before loading up for the return trip to Marree. His story is one of human endurance, courage, and perseverance. Despite facing considerable challenges each and every day out on the Track, Tom got the mail through, a lifeline to those who lived and worked in the area…
Before arriving in Birdsville, we will pass through one our most well-known outback towns, Broken Hill, and visit Wilpena Pound in the Flinders Ranges.
Wilpena Pound is an ancient landscape over 800 million years old, a mountain range rising out of the landscape that has the appearance of being an old volcano. It is also home to the Adnyamathanha people.
After a couple of days resting in Birdsville following our trip up the “Track” we will head towards Innamincka, a small locality that is infamous for being the end of the ill-fated Burke and Wills Exploration.
Passing back down into New South Wales though Wari Gate, we will overnight in Tibooburra and visit the family hotel where the famous Australian artist Clifton Pugh, who once painted a mural on the hotel walls. In fact, he even owned it at one time.
A favourite place we like to visit is Trilby Station. Trilby is a working sheep and cattle property on the banks of the famous inland river, the Darling River, and as usual, we will camp by the Billabong. And whilst in the area we will take the time to revisit Toorale National Park to further our knowledge of Australia’s first people.
And as we make our way back to Sydney via Narromine, Orange, and Bathurst I’m sure there will be plenty of stories to recount from our couple of weeks “Out and About with – The Landy”.
As we tour I will put up some photographs of the Australian Outback, perhaps just to whet your appetite for a visit, Downunder!
So keep you eye out for those…
Photos: Baz, The Landy
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Living the Dream (You have imagined)
“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams, live the life you have imagined…”
Henry David Thoreau
Sound advice Henry!
Photo: Baz, Climbing on Fox Glacier, Southern Alps, New Zealand
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No ordinary moments, no ordinary people, no ordinary lives (A note from a wonderful son)
“But there are men for whom the unattainable has a special attraction. Usually they are not experts; their ambitions and fantasies are strong enough to brush aside the doubts which more cautious men might have.
Determination and faith are their strongest weapons. At best such men are regarded as eccentric; at worst, mad…”
These are words penned by the legendary mountaineer, Walt Unsworth, and they have had a profound effect on me since I read them a number of years ago.
These words summed me up perfectly, I thought.
I’m sure many will be able to relate to them equally, regardless of what your pursuits are…
Over the years I have pursued a whole range of activities, some adventurous, others less so – but I have always been driven by a desire to simply embrace life…
And I have never considered myself an expert in any of them, but it has always been a fierce determination that has seen me through; a strong faith in my ability to grasp the key things, to put them into practice.
I’ve never considered anything I’ve done as a failure, but I’ve had plenty of learning experiences, set-backs that have helped me to learn, to grow, and to develop. I’m thankful for those set-backs, as they have made me stronger.
Eccentric; mad; yes, I’ve been referred in that way many times.
Today, I wear those comments proudly, like a badge.
Walt’s words have encouraged me to have the confidence to pursue my dream of climbing large mountains, to consider making an attempt on the summit of Mt Everest, in the least, to have the courage to admit that I want to climb it.
Every day on Wordspress, millions of words are written by ordinary people, stories about the challenges life has thrown at them, what they have done, and continue to do to overcome them.
About their dreams and aspirations; their highs and their lows…
Ordinary people who want to improve their fitness, to lose weight, to cycle across a city, or across the world.
Many have their sights set on a fun run, and others having completed one, setting their sights towards running a marathon.
For others, it is their challenge to become stronger, to be able to lift more, or about capturing that once in a life-time photograph, perhaps testing a new recipe to share with friends, or with people they have never met.
Others talk about health and lifestyle challenges they struggle with, that they have overcome.
I read as many of them as I can, they motivate me and they provide me with much needed inspiration…
Seemingly, there is always someone in this cyberspace community ready to reach out, to congratulate, to console…
Usually these people aren’t super-elite athletes, or neither five-star chefs, nor are they fitness gurus.
They have a much greater status than that, for they are simply ordinary people, the same people that Walt Unsworth wrote about when he penned those words…
To those who aspire to do their best, to challenge themselves, I say never give in, you’re not alone out there, dream big, and pursue your dreams…
But on ordinary people, yes I’ve referred to people as ordinary, but in reality, there is no such thing as ordinary people, we are all unique, we all contribute to the mosaic that makes up the world we live in…
It would be a boring place if we were all the same…
We’d never learn, grow, or develop as people.
Take the time to read over Walt’s musings a couple of times, because he was speaking about you…
Draw on the strength of his writing, it is powerful…
Above all else remember,
There are no ordinary moments, no ordinary people, no ordinary lives…
Baz – The Landy
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Success Isn’t Permanent (And Failure Isn’t fatal)
Not a bad thought to keep in mind, and it is one of the things I like to remind myself of each day as I chase my dreams…
Picton, Australia
Waimak River, New Zealand
Climbing Sweet Dreams – Blue Moiuntains
Sweet Dreams, Blue Mountains, Australia
Tough Mudder
The Boys on a mud run
Southern Alps, New Zealand
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Contemplation (Aussie Beach Culture)
Merewether Beach, Newcastle, Australia…
Photo: Baz, The Landy
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The Shed (The Sweat Room)
The training shed up in the backyard was in full action this morning with a 10,000-metre row to the sounds of Deep Purple at silly o’clock…
As much as I enjoy strength and weight training, I can’t expect to be a 100-kilogram gorilla and climb mountains, but the weight training has kept me going over these past few months…
Hey, keep your fingers crossed that my Achilles tendon that I had surgically repaired earlier this year holds up!
And it seems to be as I start ramping up the cardio exercise and I must say it makes a pleasant change to the weight training.
As part of training for the mountains I am working towards a 100 kilometre-running race (I use the term running sparingly) through the mountains that I regularly hike and that takes place in September 2014.
And I’ll need every bit of that time to prepare, and the last mountain running I did was in one of the world’s toughest endurance races, the Speight’s Coast to Coast Adventure Race in New Zealand in 2012.
And yes, that Kiwi brother-in-law of mine is hot on my heels pushing me, again!
I’m also planning to cycle the iconic Birdsville Track in outback Australia in April 2014. It is roughly 500 kilometres in length and the aim is to ride as much as I can on my Canondale 29-er Mountain Bike.
Dream big I say, and of course, live to the motto that “those that don’t think it can be done shouldn’t bother the person doing it.”
Cheers, Baz – The Landy
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Temari Ball – Marion’s Artree
Temari is a Japanese art form that involves intricate weaving of fine threads and this wonderfully crafted example was offered for sale at Marion’s Artree.
Recently, I wrote about the work that Janet and her sister Leah were undertaking to raise money for a research and support group for Meniere’s Disease and it culminated last week with a stall they ran in Leah’s hometown, Newcastle, a beautiful city the north of Sydney, at the Hunter Valley’s Art Society summer markets.
Meniere’s disease led to the premature death of Marion, Janet and Leah’s sister a few years ago. She was much loved and had many friend’s in the art world…
Marion’s Artree Stall was the most popular of all the stalls on the day and they raised a substantial amount of money that will now be donated to the Research Foundation that is working towards a cure for this disease.
The local member of State Parliament, Tim Owen, spent time helping out the girl’s on the stall, and the local TV Station took an interest, which gave them some prominence to highlight what they are endeavouring to achieve with Marion’s Artree.
And there were some lovely pieces of artwork that was donated by artists’ from all over Australia in support of this project.
Bravo to the girl’s, what a great success!
Photo: Baz, The Landy
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Dope on a Rope (Over Australia)
How good is this… just hanging out, a dope on a rope…
Strewth I’ve got to get back to some climbing, and what better place than a climb on Sweet Dreams in the Blue Mountains just to the west of Sydney…now there’s a thought!
And hey, remember, if all else fails, just take a running leap at life, see what develops and live to the motto…
“Those that don’t think it can be done shouldn’t bother the person doing it”…
(Big Bad) Baz…
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Living Works Of Art (In the Australian Bush)
Perhaps this will come as little surprise, but today we were Out and About in the Australian Bush…
TomO was having a sleep over at a friends place, although the term sleepover is used merely to highlight that he wasn’t at home with us, because if I know those boys there would have been little sleep happening.
Hell, come to think of it, the poor bloke was probably cleaning up the aftermath of the dinner party we enjoyed with the parents of TomO’s mate last night…
Now nothing ever seems to happen in our house before a cup of tea has been taken, which shouldn’t be that surprising as Janet’s father, Archie, was a tea importer, so after our mandatory cup of tea this morning we boarded The Landy, camera gear at the ready, and headed about 50-kilometres to the north of Sydney into Yengo National Park.
This park is a favourite of ours and we have spent many hours atop Devil’s Mountain watching the sun set on the the park’s western horizon, or Burragurra as it is known by Australia’s first inhabitants.
The mountain has many aboriginal rock engravings etched into its surface, including the spirit footprints of Wa-boo-ee, the creator of heaven and earth. In aboriginal legend he stepped from here to Mount Yengo in one stride and then ascended back into the sky.
All this, just to the north of Australia’s most populous city, strewth, how did we Aussies’s get so lucky?
And you know how I tend to rave on about the Australian Bush and Outback, well just take another look at the beautiful example of a Fringed Lily. They are so minute and in flower presently.
And as harsh as the Australian Bush can be it is such a fragile environment producing what can only be described as Living Works of Art…just like the Fringed Lily!
Crikey, all together now, say it!
(Big Bad) Baz, we wouldn’t wouldn’t be dead for quid’s!
Photos: (Big Bad) Baz, The Landy
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The Pain of the loss of a loved one (Meniere’s disease)
The enormity of losing a loved one, a friend, is only surpassed by the haplessness one feels that they did not hear or recognise those faint cries for help…
Five years have now passed since we lost a very dear friend, a sister, a daughter.
Marion, one of four Fawthrop girls and Janet’s sister, suffered greatly from a terrible affliction called Meniere’s disease. Tragically, just ahead of her 50th birthday the pain of Meniere’s, which had come and gone throughout her life, became far too much to bear any longer and she sought the refuge, the comfort of another world where she could be freed from the bondage of the pain it caused her.
In those early times following Marion’s passing we all shed many tears, and a day never passes where Marion isn’t still a part of our lives, a casual smile here, your mind’s eye seeing her dressed up in all her finery.
Marion loved to dress up, to party.
And still, there are those moments where the tears well in our eyes…
Marion was a great lover of the Arts and had many friends in the art world. And it is something that runs in the family, as Leah, the youngest of the girl’s is a wonderful artist, having studied artistic photography, among other things…
As a tribute to Marion, Leah came up with the idea of creating Marion’s Artree, where works of art with a Christmas theme, along with Christmas decorations are handmade by artists’, craft workers and designers.
People whom Marion touched, and others whom she never knew generously donating their time and works for sale, with proceeds going to advance Meniere’s Research.
Please take the time to understand the suffering that people afflicted with Meniere’s experience, and if you are able, please support either the Australian Meniere’s Research Foundation, or perhaps locate one in the country you live in.
Leah and Janet’s Facebook Page, Marion’s Artree, provides more detail…
And bravo, Leah and Janet, and mother, Clare, you have all shown tremendous courage these past few years. We can’t bring Millie-Marion back, but she is always with us, and what a great way to bring an awareness of Meniere’s disease and to help and support others who also suffer…
Personally, I take great comfort knowing that wherever Marion is, she will be dressed to the ‘nines, holding court, a small glass of champagne in one hand, and a packet of fags in the other. It wouldn’t be any other way – and crikey, ain’t that the truth…
Baz, The Landy…
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We can’t Let our Old Bushmen die (A tale from the Bush)
The gathered crowd were anxious to witness a remarkable feat by a man and his whip and with little effort it coiled down the road accompanied by the sound of a thunderous clap.
Mind you, this was no ordinary whip, and no ordinary man who gripped its handle firmly. This is a whip measuring 66 feet in length, and weighing in at 17-kilograms.
Richard had done this a thousand times before and it made my attempt to crack a whip a fraction of its size rather feeble indeed.
The small township of Murringo, situated in the Central-West of New South Wales, was abuzz, and it was almost a carnival atmosphere as people travelled from both nearby, and further afield, to celebrate the opening of the 150 year old Hancock’s Store with owners Richard and Leah Taubman.
The sign above the small, but quaint, building proudly announced “Taubman & Webb, Trading Post – A Tribute Centre to Richard Taubman and the Late Syd Bayliss”.
The Webb part of Taubman and Webb, referring to Craig Webb, a best mate and earlier partner of Richard in a leather making business.
But the store, lovingly restored by Leah and a close family friend, Paul, over a period of two-years and supported wholeheartedly by the local community, is more than just a Trading Store, equally, it is a fine tribute to a true man of the Australian Bush, Syd Bayliss.
Syd’s story is one of a boy who served his country in the First World War after enlisting in the army at the young age of fifteen. It is a story of his passion for the timeless craft of leather plaiting, and one of a man travelling our wonderful country in search of work, of the hardships he endured, and the laughs he shared with those fortunate to meet him.
Syd was no ordinary man…
Mind you, Syd was born into a time in Australia’s past when it was hard to find any ordinary man or woman.
At 13-years of age a young Richard Taubman became entranced by Syd’s story and willingly sought him out, encouraged by his parents to learn the craft that this man of the bush had perfected so beautifully.
Despite the large age difference, Syd took Richard under his wing, becoming a mentor, and more importantly, a lifelong friend; a friendship that spanned the decades until his death in 1983.
Richard has dedicated a large part of his life to ensuring we don’t forget Syd and the men and women like him who forged a path, a tortuous one at times, for future generations of young Australians.
He has written a self-published book about Syd titled “One of The last” and ensured the story of his life is preserved for all in the Stockman’s Hall of Fame at Longreach, in Queensland.
On learning the old Hancock’s Store was for sale, Leah jumped at the opportunity to acquire it and Sunday’s grand opening was the culmination of her vision of restoring it to its former glory. It now stands proudly as a living tribute to the store that Syd owned in the town of Tumut, a tannery and saddlery store named The Valley of the Whites Trading Post, a tribute that Richard has long dreamed of doing.
And rest assured Leah has renovated Hancock’s Store true to its original form.
But it wasn’t all hard work, as Heather, the owner of the Ploughman’s Inn situated next door and now used by her as a private residence attested in a wonderful speech that she gave on behalf of the local community. She fondly recalled how the sound of country and western music serenaded her as tea and scones were served for morning tea on the verandah of the store as the restoration progressed.
Country and western music was a feature of the day with Syd’s brother-in-law, David, penning and singing a song as his own tribute to Richard.
And a highlight was witnessing Joy McKean, the wife of the late and great Slim Dusty, doing the official honour of cutting a ribbon to officially open Hancock’s Store after giving a wonderful account of her and Slim’s first meeting with Richard, and of her own childhood days of growing up, in the Australian bush.
Joy spoke about how both she and Slim where enthralled all those years ago by the passion that this young man and roustabout, Richard, held for the Australian way of life, our culture, our heritage. Something Slim and Joy wrote and sang about together to generations of Australians prior to Slim’s passing in 2003.
All Australian’s owe a great debt of gratitude to Leah for having the vision, the patience and the perseverance to bring Hancock’s Store back to its former glory. Too often we see buildings like Hancock’s Store slipping into decay in our rural towns, in our own communities, and I swear that as I walked through the store I could hear the echo of voices long gone whispering their thanks to Leah…
And I am certain that when Slim penned the song “We’ve done us proud” that he had men just like Richard, a big bloke, with a big heart, and a hat and whip just as big to match, at the forefront of his mind.
Thanks to Richard the inspiring and moving story of Syd Bayliss lives on and so does his craft through his skillful hands…
On the drive home to Sydney, back to the big smoke, I quietly reflected that for as long as we have people like Richard and Leah, visionaries with a love of the Australian Bush and of the people who have made Australia what it is today, there is little risk that our “Old Bushmen will ever die”.
Photos: Baz, The Landy
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Mutawintji Gorge (Outback Australia)
Mutawintji Gorge is spectacular for its towering rusty red rock cliffs and overhangs, its magnificent rock pool, cool and soothing on a hot outback day…
We took the time to wile away the hours at the base of the cliffs, and later climbing them…an oasis in the desert, a timeless place, inhabited by an ancient people.
Photo: Baz, The Landy
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Chanel No. 5 (Chanel No. 30)
They say that diamonds are a girl’s best friend, and exquisite perfume is probably not too far behind in the “pecking order”.
This weekend past, Janet, my beautiful partner and mother to our equally beautiful son, TomO, celebrated a significant milestone by turning fifty-years young!
Anyone who knows Janet would be in disbelief, unless they were aware, and of course it gives weight to my view that “how old would you be, if you didn’t know how old you were”?
Never mind, she is not fazed by it, and nor should she be as every year she blossoms even more so than the last, like a rose, timeless, delicate…
Not that she is a wallflower, not by any measure, we’ve jumped out of planes together, chasing each other across the wild blue sky, we’ve leaped tall buildings in a single-bound in a race to the ground, she always wins…
We celebrated in style with a cocktail party, “glammed-up” with family and friends.
Yes, I did buy a brand new black Tee shirt for the event.
And Janet loves a party, I wouldn’t call her a party girl, but she loves being around wonderful family and friends, all of whom adore her.
Crikey, didn’t I luck out by living next-door to Janet, yes, Janet was literally the “girl next door” and our coming together simply developed over time.
But how is this, Janet is a wonderful gardener and mows our lawn each week, strewth, if I was to go near the lawn mower I would incur her wrath, okay, a slap on the wrist…
Seriously, going down to see Bluey and the boy’s at the local footy club for a few beers is quite okay, but don’t you go touching that lawn mower Baz!
Anyway, in amongst the birthday celebrations, Janet and I held each other, and remembered that day thirty years ago, yes on her birthday, when I asked her to marry me!
Most people were surprised and didn’t actually know until I gave a small speech!
She said “yes”, phew!
I never buy lottery tickets, or gamble, after all my luck was all used up on that beautiful day…
I shared our story, of giving Janet a bottle of Chanel No. 5 perfume on that birthday, and there was a quip from the gathered that I must have flogged it, ‘cause there was no way I could have afforded it back then!
It was worth every cent I scratched together, and every birthday since that is what I have given Janet on her birthday.
But a couple of weeks ago, I asked here, “what do I buy you on this very special occasion”?
Janet looked at me, in her cheeky little way and said, “you know, it is traditional, I wouldn’t want anything else”!
So sweetie, Chanel No. 30 it is!
Happy birthday!
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The Bush Christening (On the outer Barcoo)
Rivers, creeks, and billabongs, they have a way of drawing you in, somewhat like a divining rod in search of water.
Australia has a wonderful maze of inland river systems, which, at times dry up leaving waterholes, or billabongs, as we know them…
They feature heavily in stories and poems, songs and prose, of the Australian Outback.
Recently we camped beside a billabong, nearby to the Darling River, one of Australia’s largest, which slowly meanders its way towards a confluence with the mighty Murray River at Wentworth.
Steamboats plied their trade along the river as far north as Bourke, carrying supplies to the towns that dotted the Darling, transporting wool bales back to the cities on the return trip. Of course, drought, of which there were many, could see the boats stranded for long periods of time.
This land attracted many writers, inspired by the wide open spaces of the Australian Outback, and included Henry Lawson, whom I wrote about recently, and Banjo Paterson.
They are two of my favourite Australian writers.
Simply, their writings are timeless, despite both passing long-ago, you can sit by a billabong or a river and hear the echo of the men, and women, they wrote about, the friendly banter, the sorrow, the laughs, the tears, the highs and the lows.
Both men travelled extensively in some of my favourite parts of the Australian Outback.
One such place is the Barcoo River, nearby to the town of Jundah and the Welford National Park in far western-Queensland. A small town of not too many people, where the pub, owned and operated by Monica, is the go to place to hear news, a social epicentre for the area.
Lawson and Paterson, parched from travelling the dusty land, would have quenched their thirst at establishments just like the Jundah Pub!
Banjo Paterson was especially inspired by the Barcoo and surrounding area.
We travelled to this area to visit the site of Maggee’s Shanty and Richard Magoffin’s Grave which were not too far from Jundah and the Welford National Park. Those familiar with the writing’s of Banjo Paterson will recognise this is the place immortalised in his poem A Bush Christening.
The grave of Richard Magoffin, who perished in 1885, is nearby.
Magoffin came to Australia from County Down in Ireland in 1853, digging for gold in Victoria and fighting at Eureka. Later he settled with a brother at Chiltern, Victoria, before moving to Bourke, where they sank dams and ran a carting business before tough times sent them further north, to Queensland.
There was very little to see of Maggee’s Shanty, although a plaque indicated its site, but Magoffin’s Grave was very well kept.
And under darkened skies, with the threat of rain present, we huddled together at the site of Maggee’s Shanty, and read…
The Bush Christening – By AB ‘Banjo’ Paterson
On the outer Barcoo where the churches are few,
And men of religion are scanty,
On a road never cross’d ‘cept by folk that are lost,
One Michael Magee had a shanty.
Now this Mike was the dad of a ten-year-old lad,
Plump, healthy, and stoutly conditioned;
He was strong as the best, but poor Mike had no rest
For the youngster had never been christened,
And his wife used to cry, “If the darlin’ should die
Saint Peter would not recognise him.”
But by luck he survived till a preacher arrived,
Who agreed straightaway to baptise him.
Now the artful young rogue, while they held their collogue,
With his ear to the keyhole was listenin’,
And he muttered in fright while his features turned white,
“What the divil and all is this christenin’?”
He was none of your dolts, he had seen them brand colts,
And it seemed to his small understanding,
If the man in the frock made him one of the flock,
It must mean something very like branding.
So away with a rush he set off for the bush,
While the tears in his eyelids they glistened-
“‘Tis outrageous,” says he, “to brand youngsters like me,
I’ll be dashed if I’ll stop to be christened!”
Like a young native dog he ran into a log,
And his father with language uncivil,
Never heeding the “praste” cried aloud in his haste,
“Come out and be christened, you divil!”
But he lay there as snug as a bug in a rug,
And his parents in vain might reprove him,
Till his reverence spoke (he was fond of a joke)
“I’ve a notion,” says he, “that’ll move him.”
“Poke a stick up the log, give the spalpeen a prog;
Poke him aisy-don’t hurt him or maim him,
‘Tis not long that he’ll stand, I’ve the water at hand,
As he rushes out this end I’ll name him.
“Here he comes, and for shame! ye’ve forgotten the name-
Is it Patsy or Michael or Dinnis?”
Here the youngster ran out, and the priest gave a shout-
“Take your chance, anyhow, wid ‘Maginnis’!”
As the howling young cub ran away to the scrub
Where he knew that pursuit would be risky,
The priest, as he fled, flung a flask at his head
That was labelled “Maginnis’s Whisky!”
And Maginnis Magee has been made a J.P.,
And the one thing he hates more than sin is
To be asked by the folk who have heard of the joke,
How he came to be christened “Maginnis”!
The Bulletin, 16 December 1893.
As a footnote, the heavens opened up as we walked back to the vehicle bringing much needed rain to the area, but turning the roads into a slippery brown sludge.
The Landy, with Tvan in tow, arrived in Quilpie a few hours later covered in mud!
Such is life, but what a great day with my two favourite people…
Photos by: Baz, The Landy
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From the Outback
The author of a blog titled ‘tiny lessons blog’ contacted me recently and asked could she use one of my photographs for a poem she would like to write.
Of course, I told her, and she has done the photograph great justice in the way she has digitally altered the way it presents, and with the poem that the photograph inspired her to write.
The photograph was taken a number of years ago in the Simpson Desert, Outback Australia. It is the fourth largest desert in Australia and it is the world’s largest sand dune desert.
Travelling from East to West, I spent around five-days in the desert crossing about 700 sand dunes and covered around the same distance in kilometres, so a sand dune almost every kilometre.Accompanying me on the trip was my father Brian, my mother Fay, and son TomO, who was around three-years old at the time.
It was a wonderful trip on many levels, my parents loved being taken to a place they had never travelled before, especially with their grandson. They had a passion for travel, but would never had contemplated a trip like this, and lived vicariously through the travels that I undertook with Janet…
For TomO, I weaned him off his bottle on this trip, and he threw away his night-time nappy…
And me, well it was great to be out with a wonderful family, although we did miss Janet, who was spending time with her sisters in the Margaret River Region of West Australia…Please be sure to visit tiny lessons blog, where the author describes herself as a, happy beach bum, former director, active world traveller, so-so wife, mother, grandmother, and good friend. And adding, that she is not a photographer, but a pretty creative illustrator.
Thanks tiny, and to all, be sure to visit “down under” one of these days, we’d love to see you!
I got a post card
from the Outback
sent by me in the future.
It simply said:
I had solitude for breakfast
and bird’s song for dinner
my soul is embedded
in the vastness of nature
a magical, golden place
where the trails are marked
“This way to heaven.”
Thanks Baz, the Landy, for permission to work on one of your wonderful photos from the outback. Folks, check them out at https://thelandy.com/ .
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Dawn breaks over Australia’s Outback (In a brilliance of colour)
Dawn and the hour or so before the sun pierces the eastern horizon is a favourite time of day for me.
And when travelling in the Australian Outback I am often rewarded with a view like this one, captured at Welford National Park…
Crikey, tickle me pink, how good is this sunrise over in the Outback.
Photo by: Baz, The Landy (how can I tell? Janet and TomO aren’t early risers!)
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Sand Dune Country (In the Australian Outback)
I love the colours in this photo they take me to the Outback, no matter where I am…
What do you reckon?
Photo by: Baz, The Landy
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“The Hill” (In search of the real gems)
Australia has many outback towns that are full of charm, old buildings, magnificent pubs or watering-holes, and of course, just as many characters to fill them.
There are also some hidden gems to be found, if you scratch the surface deep enough and spend the time to fossick around, talk to the locals who might be just willing to point you in the right direction.
And you can bet there is always some healthy and good natured banter at the coming together of the city and country folk, especially if it is over a cold beer.
Broken Hill, a frontier town on the far western border of New South Wales, is one place that will need little introduction to most Australian’s. A town built on the back of silver and the hard toil of the men who worked the mines, and the women who supported them. It is the original home of the Big Australian, the Broken Hill Proprietary Company, or BHP as it later became known, and the nearby area of Silverton was the site of the Mad Max Movies starring Mel Gibson…
It also has a great pub, The Silverton Hotel!
It was with great anticipation that we drove The Landy into town a couple of weeks ago as it was the staging post for our travels into Mutawintji National Park.
And speaking of characters, we were able to catch up with a local resident of The Hill, a man who oozed knowledge of the area and a passion for sharing it, over a cold beer of course!
Dave Beharre was aware of a love I have of Broken Hill and the Corner Country region. Contacting me ahead of our visit, Dave offered information on places that we might find of interest, knowledge collected from the many years spent as a tour guide operating out of Broken Hill.
TomO, an avid reader, was thrilled to be presented with some books on the area from Dave…
Such is the way of the people of Australia’s outback, a tough, no-nonsense people, embodied with a pioneering spirit and a heart of gold…
And talking about scratching the surface and finding a gem, we visited the Living Desert Reserve just outside of town and situated on a hill that provides majestic views over the harsh, but wonderfully beautiful countryside.
Country of the Wilyakkali People who traditionally occupied the lands around Broken Hill.
The Reserve is set on 2,400 hectares of land and has a number of walking trails that you can traverse. At its centre-piece, perched atop a hill, is a number of sculptures carved from sandstone rock, around 52 tonnes of it brought in from the MacCulloch Ranges, a range situated about 250 kilometres to the east of Broken Hill.
The sculptures were completed in 1993 by artists from around the world in collaboration with Australia’s first inhabitants, the aborigines.
The story of the bringing together of all these different people and cultures, sculpting by day and at night, dancing and singing by the glow of a warm fire under a sparkling outback sky, and in tongues native to their own lands, is one that portrays a spirit of human co-operation.
The sculptures include Nhatji – the Rainbow Serpent, Thomasina – the Water bird, the Bride, Motherhood, Moon Goddess, Tiwi Totems, and the Jaguar – Bajo El Sol Jaguar.
The latter, a creation of an Aztec Sculptor from Mexico.
Broken Hill is more than an Outback Town, it is a living beauty, touched by sunrises whose rays reach out to breathe life into the land, and of sunsets that redden the parched, dusty ground with a brilliance that is hard to define, but awe-inspiring as the sun slips below a far-off western horizon…
Above all else, “The Hill” is a town full of endearing people – they are the real gems that you will find there!
Photos: Baz, The Landy
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“When the Ladies Come to the Shearing Shed” (Toorale Homestead)
Being an avid reader of colloquial poetry I welcomed the opportunity to once again be out in the countryside that inspired the great Australian Poet, Henry Lawson…
For those not familiar, Henry Lawson was a poet, a writer of fiction, and many will argue, Australia’s greatest writer.
Earlier this year we packed ourselves into “The Landy” and headed to Grenfell, his birthplace in the Central West of New South Wales, to attend the Henry Lawson festival, as well as just getting Out and About – of course!
On our most recent trip to the outback we visited Toorale Station which was a vast sheep and cattle property before its purchase by the Federal Government in 2008 and development into a National Park in 2010.
The purchase of the property did have political overtones, and was done, in part, to release water that was used for cotton growing back to the river systems.
At the time it drew a mixed response, but that is a debate for others…
Toorale had at its centre, a magnificent homestead, with a glass ceiling ball-room, sprawling verandahs, wonderful gardens and hand-painted wall paper.
Standing at the gate, my mind’s eye could picture a by-gone area, of women in long-white dresses sipping tea from delicate porcelain china, shaded by the afternoon sun by one of the many trees in the manicured garden, while men toiled on the land..
Janet, with a sly grin, casually mentioned how things had changed whilst casting an eye towards TomO and I…
Set at the confluence of the Warrego and Darling Rivers it remains a place of cultural significance to Australia’s first people, specifically the traditional owners, the Kurnu-Baakandji / Paakantji People.
Ross Morris, a member of the Kurnu-Baakandji / Paakantji family, showed us around and was enthusiastic about the opportunities ahead for the park, especially the cultural centre, which is teaching their traditional language, heritage and beliefs to younger members of their community.
In fact, it is now a language module offered at the local school in the nearby town of Bourke…
Ross spoke fondly of the time his father and grandfather spent on Toorale, and of the original owner, Samuel McCaughey, later Sir Samuel.
And it was Ross’s proclamation that it is no longer Black and White, a nice pun I thought, when he explained that we all have a bond to Toorale, whether through traditional ownership, or the heritage created by earlier settlers to the region.
His attitude brought a smile to my parched lips, as I love learning about aboriginal culture and history, something TomO shares in common with me…
Ross’s viewpoint was also echoed by other first Australians’ we spent time with on this trip, on our visit to Mutawintji and Peery Lake.
Samuel McCaughey was by all accounts a big-hearted bachelor and built Toorale for his much admired niece, Louisa, but tragically corporate ownership of the property in more recent times saw it decay and it is currently very dilapidated and in need of substantial repairs.
Janet and I asked each other how could such a treasure be left to ruin in the elements, Ross shook his head…
But what of Henry Lawson I hear you ask?
Henry spent the later part of 1892 working as a roustabout on the property and it has even been suggested that he penned one of his poems “When the Ladies Come to the Shearing Shed” whilst working in the shearing shed on Toorale…
Perhaps he did, but I cannot say that was the case with any certainty, but nor does it matter, as the “Toorale Shearing Shed” is typical of shearing sheds all over this great country of ours…
TomO, Janet and I were presented with a great treat whilst admiring the shearing shed.
A lady who was travelling with us on this particular day, Janice, stood in front of the shed and recited, with great aplomb…
“When the Ladies Come to the Shearing Shed” – By Henry Lawson
‘THE LADIES are coming,’ the super says
To the shearers sweltering there,
And ‘the ladies’ means in the shearing shed:
‘Don’t cut ’em too bad. Don’t swear.’
The ghost of a pause in the shed’s rough heart,
And lower is bowed each head;
And nothing is heard, save a whispered word,
And the roar of the shearing-shed.
The tall, shy rouser has lost his wits,
And his limbs are all astray;
He leaves a fleece on the shearing-board,
And his broom in the shearer’s way.
There’s a curse in store for that jackaroo
As down by the wall he slants—
And the ringer bends with his legs askew
And wishes he’d ‘patched them pants.’
They are girls from the city. (Our hearts rebel
As we squint at their dainty feet.)
And they gush and say in a girly way
That ‘the dear little lambs’ are ‘sweet.’
And Bill, the ringer, who’d scorn the use
Of a childish word like ‘damn,’
Would give a pound that his tongue were loose
As he tackles a lively lamb.
Swift thoughts of homes in the coastal towns—
Or rivers and waving grass—
And a weight on our hearts that we cannot define
That comes as the ladies pass.
But the rouser ventures a nervous dig
In the ribs of the next to him;
And Barcoo says to his pen-mate: ‘Twig
‘The style of the last un, Jim.’
Jim Moonlight gives her a careless glance—
Then he catches his breath with pain—
His strong hand shakes and the sunlights dance
As he bends to his work again.
But he’s well disguised in a bristling beard,
Bronzed skin, and his shearer’s dress;
And whatever Jim Moonlight hoped or feared
Were hard for his mates to guess.
Jim Moonlight, wiping his broad, white brow,
Explains, with a doleful smile:
‘A stitch in the side,’ and ‘he’s all right now’—
But he leans on the beam awhile,
And gazes out in the blazing noon
On the clearing, brown and bare—
She has come and gone, like a breath of June,
In December’s heat and glare.
The bushmen are big rough boys at the best,
With hearts of a larger growth;
But they hide those hearts with a brutal jest,
And the pain with a reckless oath.
Though the Bills and Jims of the bush-bard sing
Of their life loves, lost or dead,
The love of a girl is a sacred thing
Not voiced in a shearing-shed.
(© Henry Lawson)
If you are travelling in this part of the world, be sure to give Ross a call, he can be found at the National Parks Office in Bourke…
And remember, if all else fails, remain out of control and see what develops!
Photos: Baz, The Landy
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Western Plains (Outback Australia)
Strewth, you wouldn’t be dead for quids…
I could get lost out here for ever!
Photo: Baz, The Landy
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Reflections (In the Australian Outback)
Gumhole Waterhole, Diamantina National Park, Outback Australia
Nothing better than sitting by a billabong, looking at reflections…just reflecting, as the world passes by!
Photo: Baz, The Landy
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Shop till you Drop (Gold Medal Result)
The jet-setters, Janet and TomO arrived back home from London this morning and for sure it is about time we got something to smile about into our lives once again.
And you’ll be pleased to know that Janet stood at the top of the podium…
You remember – the big event. The dash to spend cash down The Stand, suitcases under one arm, credit card in the other, you know, shop till you drop.
Okay for sure, I did say give it your best shot Janet, you deserve a great win.
But let me tell you – she’s won the gold, hell, a world record…
And I know the little rooster, TomO, would have been cheering her on, but just how did she manage so much, in such a fast time?
Strewth, I’ve had to take a Bex and I’m now heading to the couch for a lie down after lugging all those suitcases from the baggage carousel to the car.
Um, welcome home, darling…and TomO,
And by the way, where’s my present, I did get one didn’t I?
😉
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A Beautiful Sunflower (A Final Tribute to Brian)
Brian… Dad, has never been a man of many words,
choosing them sparingly when he spoke.
An excellent listener,
always willing to hear what you have to say.
Today, I don’t intend to give a long account of
Brian’s life, because without a doubt he’ll be listening.
After all, he has planned much of today.
And if I was to indulge in his achievements,
Of which there are many…
He’d get grumpy,
In a nice kind of way, in Dad’s own special way.
Beside, I know that you all have your own memories of Brian
that when joined together create a beautiful mosaic of his life.
Moments that you will be able to share together.
But I do want to share a story with you,
A story of a Sunflower…
Of two beautiful Sunflowers.
Sunflowers are a favourite of mine, big, bright, colourful and
beautiful.
And they have always been a favourite of Brian’s… Dad’s.
As a kid growing up I can always remember them growing at his parents home…
In Pop and Nana’s backyard.
At Scarborough, on the Redcliffe Penninsula,
there are two very special Sunflowers that are blooming…
You won’t miss them if you drive that way,
For they stand majestically
Overlooking the cliffs towards Moreton Bay.
What makes these two sunflowers so special is they are growing,
in the very spot where Dad asked our mother to marry him,
More than fifty years ago…
Last Sunday morning Dad slipped away peacefully…
As I held his hand gently the first rays of light were piercing the
Eastern skyline over Moreton Bay…
The rising sun is a beautiful thing,
Turning darkness to light,
Signalling the dawning of a new day,
Lighting the pathway to a new life…
And as he made his way, peacefully,
I was comforted knowing that Nana and Pop would be waiting at the gate
for their little boy,
To hold him dearly, once again…
I was comforted that his faith has given him the courage,
to make this journey home,
His journey to eternal life.
I looked out over the bay at the rising sun and I could feel the
warmth from its rays touching these two sunflowers…
Breathing life into their delicate petals.
In the golden glow I could see a handsome young man,
holding his beautiful young bride…
A smile eased the tension in my face.
Over these past few days we have shed tears…
We have laughed…
But above all else we’ve felt so much joy that we have had Brian…
Dad, with us for so long…
Always looking out for us all, and never far from Fay, the love of his life.
Yes, Fay, the love of his life…
To my mind one of the greatest gifts a father can give his
children is to love their mother, with all his heart,
Forever…
Mum, Dad will never stop loving you, he will never stop loving us all….
And to all here who have joined with us today
to farewell Brian,
I leave you with this thought…
When next you see a sunflower, take the time to stop…
Bask in its golden glow,
And look into its heart.
I know who’ll you’ll see and he will help wipe the tears you hold
He will bring a smile to your face…
Yes, Brian…
Dad…
Big, bright, colourful and beautiful…
Ps: Brian hasn’t smoke a pipe in decades, but we snapped him “mucking” around recently…
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Life, Death, and Grief (We’ll miss you, mate)
During these past few days following the passing of Janet’s father, I have been pondering on the cycle of life, death, and grief…
Surrounded by his loving family, Archie peacefully slipped away from us last week, while Clare, his partner of almost 60 years, held his hand, tenderly…
There was a feeling of deep sorrow and sadness as Arch let go of his final breath, tears were quietly shed as we sat silently in the dimmed light.
But there was also much to be thankful for.
Archie was in his 99th year and he never experienced any major health problems during his lifetime. His love of life alone would have been enough to see him through many more years, but his aging body had simply become too frail to stave off what would normally be a minor illness for most…
We were lucky to have been able share his charm, wit, wisdom…his warmth, for so long.
In the predawn darkness following his passing my thoughts drifted to memories of times I had shared with Arch.
The early childhood stories that Janet and her brothers and sisters have shared many times. Of the travel to wonderfully exotic places that Clare has spoke excitedly of at every opportunity, and with whom she had shared with the love of her life, Archie, Archie Fawthrop…
A smile eased the tension in my face.
I thought about Archie’s life that began with his birth in Burma, of growing up in India, and boarding school in England, of his time as a Captain in the British Army during the war years. Of a sea voyage he took with his young daughter, Mary, to the country that claimed him as one of its own, Australia, and of the family that Clare and Archie so beautifully raised at Garden Grove…
Archie welcomed me into his family with open arms and over the years I have valued his advice, his friendship, the stories he has told me…the laughs we have shared together.
The mere mention of his name will surely bring a grin to your face, and we’ve all got an Archie story, for there are many. And as the years pass they will be recounted like it was only yesterday that we were all together sharing the moment.
But on life, death, and grief…
Yes, we will all pass one day, but for me grief suggests I have lost something; that something has been taken away from me.
But quite to the contrary.
Archie has given me much to be thankful for, beautiful memories, his wonderful daughter, Janet, with whom I am lucky enough to share my life, and our son TomO, who has more than just a shade of Archie in him, an overabundance of that wonderful “boyish-Archie-cheekiness”.
And as first light was beginning to pierce the eastern horizon and the warmth from those first rays of light filled my body, I swear I heard him whisper his most famous line, the one that always brings an infectious smile to your face, the line that sums him up perfectly.
“You don’t know how lucky you are”…
Take care Arch, we’ll miss you, mate…
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Fair Dinkum – A Teenager (Strewth!)
Like an acorn planet years ago,
Our little fella has started to grow,
With each passing day, another night gone,
We wait patiently ‘cause it won’t be long,
He’s a special little bloke,
Part of you and me,
We’ll love him forever,
That’s how it will be…
Can you believe this our little fella, TomO, joins the ranks of the teenage brigade today. A very special baby so bursting with life that he couldn’t wait the usual 39-weeks and arrived on the scene almost 6-weeks prematurely…
We nicknamed him Smiley before he was born and he’s never stopped smiling…
Happy birthday, mate!
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The Outback, Fly Veils, and other Veils (Happy Anniversary!)
Visit the Australian Outback in the warmer months, especially after rain and most likely a billion flies will join you.
And yes, I meant a couple of billion.
It is a funny occurrence, they turn up at the crack of dawn, literally, and as the sun shimmies below the western horizon in the late afternoon they disappear, seemingly from the face of the earth.
I’ve often pondered where do they go…
Personally, I try to ignore them, which is hard when they crawl all over your face, up your nostrils, and heaven forbid, don’t breathe through your mouth, lest you want some additional protein for breakfast.
Strewth, I hope I haven’t painted a picture that turns you away from visiting, after all we do like to share the experience of the never ending outback!
A never ending sky kissing the parched red earth in the far off distance…
But don’t worry, we have a solution, a veil, a fly veil that you can put over your head, and bingo, they’re out of your face!
Crikey, speaking of veils and kissing, 29 years ago today Janet was wearing a beautiful veil and lovely dress as we walked down the aisle together. Talk about a radiant bride who has blossomed into the kindest and most beautiful person you could ever be lucky enough to meet… 😉
She was literally the girl next door, how’s that hey!
Happy anniversary sweetie!
photos: Baz, The Landy
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We all die (But how many of us truly live?)
Recently I had an exchange of thoughts around the notion that “we all die but how many of us truly live”.
But what does “truly live” really mean?
Does it mean we need to push beyond what others are doing, or scale the tallest mountain, travel the world endlessly, perhaps run the fastest marathon or lift the heaviest weight?
Maybe it could just mean sitting with a loved one and watching the sun pierce the eastern horizon as another day dawns…
And with plenty of time on my hands as I recover from recent surgery I pondered this question, in between snoozing on the day-bed, of course!
I am strongly of the view there are no ordinary moments; no ordinary people; no ordinary lives.
Crikey, therein lies the key, I thought!
There are no ordinary moments…
Whether you are travelling the world, caring for a loved one, climbing the tallest mountain, putting out the garbage, or even eating brussel sprouts.
Treat all the moments of your life, whatever you are doing, as something special and then you are truly living.
Being a climber and mountaineer, of sorts, I am inspired by Sir Edmund Hillary, not just because he was the first person, along with Tenzing Norgay, to summit and descend Mt Everest, but because he was a very humble man, a man that always had his hand out to help others, a man who truly lived his life.
And Sir Edmund had this to say…
“I have had the world lie beneath my clumsy boots and saw the red sun slip over the horizon after the dark Antarctic winter. I have been given more than my share of excitement, beauty, laughter and friendship.
Each of us has to discover his own path – of that I am sure.
Some paths will be spectacular and others peaceful and quiet – who is to say which is the most important? For me, the most rewarding moments have not always been the great moments, for what can surpass a tear on your departure, joy on your return, and a trusting hand in yours?” – Sir Edmund Hilary…
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Remembering our Courageous Fallen (ANZAC Day)
The 25th of April is a day that Australian’s reflect on the military service Australian men and women have given to our country.
To remember those who made the ultimate sacrifice; to remember the Australian men and women who are currently serving in theatres of war, and in peace keeping roles around the world.
To all I say, thank you.
Something close to me is the time I spent living in Papua New Guinea and the times that I have visited since leaving, more recently in 2006 when I walked the Kokoda Track with a good mate, Bob Todd.
The Kokoda Track saw some of most fierce fighting that Australian troops have ever faced.
And we should never forget the sacrifices that were made by our good friends, legends of the Kokoda Track, the Fuzzy Wuzzy Angels; the Papuan New Guineans who carried supplies and our wounded, often making the ultimate sacrifice at the hands of an unyielding foe.
Standing at the top of the final hill after six days along The Track, Bob and I looked back over the ranges and I swear we could hear that distinctive Aussie drawl…
The sounds of mates helping their mates.
And I’m sure that on this day if you were to stand on the battlefields of the Somme or the beaches of Gallipoli, if you listen carefully, you too will hear our boys and girls; the men and women who never returned home to loved ones!
Our memory of them will live on forever…
Lest We Forget…
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What – Me Inspiring? (Someone’s had the beer googles on)
Recently I was nominated for an Inspiring Blogger Award, for which I am truly humbled.
I understand there is a protocol for responding to these nominations, kindly made by Christina Waschko, author and owner of the “Strawberry Lounge” in the Netherlands, and by Kevan, a Canadian Expat living in the Czech Republic.
Christina authors a blog Very Berry Extraordinary, and Kevan’s writing can be viewed at Beyond Prague.
First and foremost I would like to say to both Christina and Kevan, thankyou!
I am overwhelmed by the many comments I receive on a daily basis in support of my journey and in response to what I have written, my rantings.
I’m just an ordinary Aussie bloke who tries not to take life too seriously, but to simply enjoy life for what it is, to take it on the chin when I need to, have a good laugh at myself at other times, and to take the mickey out of anyone that is fair game!
Strewth, who would ever have thought you lot would be interested in the ramblings of someone with a few ‘roos loose in the top paddock, and who wants to climb the world’s tallest mountains.
But crikey, I do love talking about the sun-drenched country I live in with my wonderful family…
In fact, given half a chance, I’d talk the leg off a kitchen table telling you about it…
Oh, for crying out loud Baz, just say it, you’re amongst friends here, Australia’s the best flamin’ country in the world, mate…
And I can’t help but write about my very supportive family, the beautiful people in my life, Janet and TomO, and of the love they give me, unconditionally…
Writing of lazy afternoons down by the lake with friends, of rock-faces in the Blue Mountains, and of course, my rather audacious plan to climb high mountains, of the dream I have to go to the top of the world, to climb Mt Everest…
Every day on Wordspress, millions of words are written by ordinary people, stories about the challenges life has thrown at them, what they have done, and continue to do to overcome them.
About their dreams and aspirations, their highs and lows…
About their very own Mt Everest…
People who want to improve their fitness, to lose weight, to cycle across a city, or across the world.
Many have their sights set on a fun run, and others having completed one, setting their sights towards running a marathon.
For others, it is their challenge to become stronger, to be able to lift more, or about capturing that once in a life-time photograph, perhaps testing a new recipe to share with friends, or with people they have never met.
Others talk about health and lifestyle challenges they struggle with, that they have overcome.
I read as many of them as I can, for they motivate me and provide me with much needed inspiration…
Seemingly, there is always someone in this cyberspace community ready to reach out, to congratulate, to console…
These people aren’t super-elite athletes, or neither five-star chefs, nor are they fitness gurus.
They have a much greater status than that, for they are simply ordinary people – they are you!
Each and every one of you is helping me to find the courage to overcome the challenges and barriers that sometimes stand in the way of my own dreams…
I take great inspiration from you all and I won’t single any one person out, for you are all very special to me – and from the bottom of my heart thank you for enriching my life by rewarding me with a window into yours!
There are no ordinary moments, no ordinary people, no ordinary lives…
And remember, if all else fails, just remain out of control and see what develops!
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Dwell on the beauty of life (Watch the stars)
“Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars, and see yourself running with them.”
― Marcus Aurelius
I’m not one to run around dispensing advice on how one should live, that’s a journey of discovery that we are all on.
But every so often I read something, a quote, a thought that eloquently sums up how I feel.
You see, I’m a dreamer, always have been, and always will be, thankfully.
The power of the mind is beyond anything we could possibly hope to understand, it doesn’t know what is real, or what isn’t, besides, what is real, and what isn’t anyway!
Crikey, I’m getting a bit too deep and you’ll end up thinking I’ve got a few ‘Roos loose in the top paddock…
Umm, there’s a fair chance I have, so you won’t be too far off-track!
So my point, just picture yourself achieving the things you want to, finding the happiness you are looking for, believe in yourself.
Each morning as I head to The Shed to exercise I take time to look up at the stars, to dream, to run with them!
And here is the best thing about dreaming, no-one can ever take them away from you, ever!
Oh, who is Marcus Aurelius I hear you ask?
Marcus was a Roman Emperor who lived over 1,800 years ago!
And talking about dreaming, Janet has just wandered by and said she’s dreaming that some nice person is going to give her a neck massage. I guess that’s my cue to stop dispensing advice…
Take care out there, and remember dream so big that it frightens you!
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This is Incredible (Super-Hero’s, right?)
Now don’t you good folk go worrying that this Mr Incredible thingy that a wonderful person, Christina, wrote about me is going to my head. You know, Bob Parr, family man, super-hero from the ‘burbs.
Crikey, this is incredible, you’ve forgotten haven’t you. My moment in the spot light and its slipped from your memory already…and it hasn’t even been 24 hours.
Your teachers were incredibly perceptive when they said , very bright, but needs to pay more attention to detail…
You can bring yourself back up to speed on it here.
Anyway, where was I, yes, don’t worry, there’s no chance of it going to my head, I’m far too incredibly modest to allow anything like that to happen.
And whilst I’ve got your attention for a moment or two, you’d have to admit that I am incredibly handsome. I just thought I’d put that out there, glad I got that out in the open for you, not that I’ve ever thought that myself mind you, never, no way, well not this week at least, not until this story appeared anyway.
In fact, so incredibly handsome that I can spend at least 10 minutes in front of the mirror admiring grooming myself each day.
Don’t just take my word for it, ask an incredibly impartial person, like Fay, my mother.
And someone did recently suggest that I looked like Harrison Ford.
Incredible…
True, you’re right, it was my brother-in-law mumbling something about Indiana Jones and we’re both doomed when the girls find all these empty beer bottles in the morning…
Of course, I am incredibly strong, what do you think I’m doing up in The Shed at silly o’clock each day with my cape and face mask…
Isn’t that what super-hero’s do?
And my boss, god bless his soul, did say that he’s glad I’m an incredibly talented mountaineer he’d believe anything I told him, to which he added that it is a blessing in disguise because I’m incredibly hopeless at trading currencies, but as he still needs someone around to send for coffee each day I should consider myself incredibly lucky!
That’s what I like about him, he’s incredibly generous when it comes to accolades about me…
And while I’m mucking around with this newfound fame word it would be entirely wrong not to mention that I have an incredible family, Janet and TomO.
Strewth, didn’t I luck out there, hey?
Yes, I heard you, incredible you said, didn’t you!
TomO, truly an incredible miracle for both of us, in fact so much so it often brings a tear to our eye…
And, let me tell you, he’s an incredible trampolinist, an urban tramp!
Oh yes, he’s an incredible son, incredibly likeable, okay, yes, he is incredibly cute and the Cheltenham girls are already checking him out on the train on the way to school each day, but who is this story about anyway…so let’s move on!
And speaking of Janet, she is incredibly beautiful with an incredible tolerance, spirit and adventurous personality.
Mind you, as I write this she has this incredible look on her face that is saying Mr Bob Parr you’re going to come to an incredible and sticky ending if you don’t take the rubbish out before the garbage man comes this week…it’s a short story, incredibly, I forgot last week.
Strewth, that’s right she’s an Incredible as well, best I don’t push my luck, so I’ll get on with that little job right now.
But let me say this, if I ever get to the top of some of those incredibly high mountains I want to climb it will be an Incredible super-human feat, well for me, in any case!
So to all, thanks for your continuing interest and ongoing support in the adventures that we get up to…and be sure to hang around for a while, I’ll be needing all the support I can muster to get me up those mountains…
And remember, there are no ordinary moments; no ordinary people; no ordinary lives!
Umm, Bob Parr, super-hero, hey…
Incredible!
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One step at a time (The only way forward)
Often I’m awe-struck when I think about the journey I have embarked on to climb amongst the world’s highest mountains.
Sometimes it is so big that I just think about all the small steps I have taken so far.
The fun I’ve had… the fun and tears that are yet to come.
Yes, one step at a time Baz, it’s the only way forward…
Hey, by the way, thanks for joining me on this journey, I’ll need all the support I can get to help me climb to the summit…and back down again!
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Lost in Paradise – Yasawa Island, South Pacific
If I ever get lost in the mountains please send a St Bernard to rescue me…
But if I ever manage to get lost here, could you just send another cocktail, one’s never enough as the sun sets over the South Pacific!
Ps: Don’t bother rescuing me!
photo: Baz, The Landy
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One problem at a time Sarge (One problem at a time)
The other day I was caught up in what seemed to be a never-ending stream of problems, you know the sort of day.
Nothing was going right, everyone and everything was conspiring against me. One problem after another, mounting, crushing, the world on my shoulders, leaving me pleading why was this happening to me?
In reality the world wasn’t going to come to an end, the sun had risen in the east, and in all likelihood it was going to set in the west, and a few deep breathes would probably have dispatched the garbage that was mostly going on inside my head to the trash…
But it did get me thinking why do we allow seemingly insignificant problems to morph into something that requires the Fantastic Four to resolve?
Human nature was my guess.
And then I recalled a quote by Frank MacAlyster, a member of the US Military’s elite Delta Force. Frank was involved in an operation to help free US hostages being held inside the US Embassy in Tehran, Iran, in the early 1980s.
The story is recounted in the book ‘Inside Delta Force’, by Eric Hany.
As the doomed rescue attempt unfolded Frank was sound asleep in a US C-130 Hercules aircraft that was parked on the ground inside Iran.
He awoke to intense flames licking all around him, the aircraft was on fire.
Frank thought the aircraft was airborne, but the intensity of the fire left him no choice, he jumped from the plane without a parachute and went into a skydivers arch.
Of course he fell for only a fraction of a second before hitting the ground.
Frank had assessed his options and jumped. It must have taken a lot of courage. Death was almost a certainty, but he was buying time at least.
I reflected on this and thought that even under intense pressure Frank was still thinking through his problems and wasn’t letting the situation clutter his thinking, and by this time there were any number of problems to deal with. Of course the first was to survive.
What could I learn from that?
How could Frank’s experience help me as I pursue my goal of high altitude climbing, and how might it help others to deal with their own ‘burning aircraft’?
When asked a few days later by his Superior what he was going to do once he was out of the plane without a parachute, Frank replied…
“One problem at a time Sarge, one problem at a time.”
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No Ordinary Moments; No Ordinary People; No Ordinary Lives
As I stood outside Almer Hut waiting for a helicopter to arrive to take me down from the mountains I looked back up Franz Joseph Glacier and reflected on the two weeks of climbing I have had in New Zealand.
Of time spent with loved ones; chasing TomO in a Tiger Moth in the skies over Lake Wanaka, with Janet, moments shared together, and of time spent on the top of mountains with newly made friends…
Take nothing for granted, for truly, there are no ordinary moments; no ordinary people; no ordinary lives…
Thanks New Zealand!
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Summiting is optional – getting down is mandatory (Mt Aspiring)
It is said that summiting a mountain is optional and getting back down is mandatory.
And with this in my mind, with climbing partner, Richard Raynes, I headed off for my climb of Mt Aspiring in the pre-dawn hours of Monday 7 January.
Richard is an exceptionally experienced mountaineer and specializes in mountain rescues, so I was in extremely good hands. For me, this was a great opportunity to learn.
We had planned to climb on Thursday, however the weather was forecast to deteriorate over the week and our climbing window had narrowed significantly.
This was it…
I was feeling rather daunted as we headed off across the Bonar Glacier towards the “Matterhorn of the South” which was standing tall ahead of us.
The moon was rising over the mountain and as we climbed the steep snow and ice slope towards the rock buttress a thin golden line was appearing on the eastern horizon signalling the dawn of a new day.
I remember thinking this was the dawn of just more than the sun rising on a new day, but of a wonderful new world for me.
There were two other climbing parties of two ahead of us and we could see their headlamps bobbing up and down as they made their way.
The weather had been forecast to be better than we had earlier expected and according to the most up to date report we had received the previous evening. So far the report was proving accurate.
But as we climbed onto the exposed side of the mountain and climbed up through the rock formation, called The Buttress, the weather started to turn. We had made it through the most technical section of the climb, and now had a long slog up the steep snow and ice towards the summit.
We could see the summit and the winds were roaring over it at least 100 kilometres an hour and the cloud was now starting to obscure the top.
The groups ahead had turned back by now and as we made our way back down through the rock buttress, abseiling our way back to the snow, we were being buffeted by sleet and strong winds.
It was not to be our day on the summit…
But that is not to say it wasn’t a great experience. Of course our goal was to make it to the top, but above all else, I was here to learn the craft and skills necessary to become a competent mountaineer.
Perhaps the mountain understood this and she gave me an experience that provided a great learning opportunity, so it is hard to be disappointed…
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A couple of Kangaroos loose in the top paddock (Thankyou)
I have been nominated for a couple of Blogger Awards, including 2012 Blogger of the Year.
I know there is a protocol for responding to these nominations, and two more recently came from The Wish Factor, and Desert Rose.
Normally, I would take the time to respond in the appropriate way.
But as I am heading to New Zealand in a day or two for my next mountaineering adventure I fear that I would not do it the right justice by rushing a response, so please forgive me for not doing so…
But I would like to say to all my friends around the world, many whom I have come to know right here on WordPress – thank you!
I am humbled by the many comments I receive on a daily basis in response to what I have written, to my rantings…
Who, me, Baz – The Landy?
I’m just an ordinary Aussie bloke who tries not to take life too seriously, but to simply enjoy life for what it is, to take it on the chin when I need to, and to have a good laugh at myself all other times…
Strewth, who would ever have thought youse lot would be interested in the ramblings of someone with “a few ‘roos loose in the top paddock”?
But by crikey, I do love talking about this wonderful sunburnt country I live in…
Oh for crying out loud Baz, just say it, Australia’s the best flamin’ country in the world, mate…
And I can’t help but write about my very supportive family, the beautiful people in my life, Janet and TomO, and of the love they give me, unconditionally…
Writing of lazy afternoons down by the lake with friends, of rock-faces in the Blue Mountains, and of course, my rather audacious plan to climb high mountains, of the dream I have to go to the top of the world, to climb Mt Everest…
Every day on Wordspress, millions of words are written by ordinary people, stories about the challenges life has thrown at them, what they have done, and continue to do to overcome them.
About their dreams and aspirations, their highs and lows…
About their very own Mt Everest…
People who want to improve their fitness, to lose weight, to cycle across a city, or across the world.
Many have their sights set on a fun run, and others having completed one, setting their sights towards running a marathon.
For others, it is their challenge to become stronger, to be able to lift more, or about capturing that once in a life-time photograph, perhaps testing a new recipe to share with friends, or with people they have never met.
Others talk about health and lifestyle challenges they struggle with, that they have overcome.
I read as many of them as I can, for they motivate me and provide me with much needed inspiration…
Seemingly, there is always someone in this cyberspace community ready to reach out, to congratulate, to console…
These people aren’t super-elite athletes, or neither five-star chefs, nor are they fitness gurus.
They have a much greater status than that, for they are simply ordinary people – they are you!
Each and every one of you is helping me to find the courage to overcome the challenges and barriers that sometimes stand in the way of my own dreams…
I take great inspiration from you all, and I won’t single any one person out, for you are all very special to me – and from the bottom of my heart thank you for enriching my life by rewarding me with a window into yours!
There are no ordinary moments, no ordinary people, no ordinary lives…
Take care you ‘all…Baz
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An awkward tumble – Ouch! (TomO on the trampoline)
With the balance of a cat, the carefree attitude of youth, and fitness beyond his years, TomO is quite an amazing trampolinist.
He got his first trampoline at age 2-years, and outgrew two of them before advancing to an Olympic size mat about two-years ago.
Initially, he undertook training at the local YMCA, but he has never wanted to compete, preferring to think of himself as “TomO – The Urban Tramp”.
And in many ways the YMCA was all about winning the Olympics…
“It’s all about free-style these days, Mum and Dad…”
And I must say, I’m with him on this.
He is a delight to watch and it takes me back to his age when I also did a lot of trampolining, and to all of you out there that want taut muscles and fantastic abs, do yourself a favour and buy a trampoline. I still get up and have a jump with him in the back yard!
We’ve had 10 years of injury-free trampolining…up until last evening!
We we’re having a get-together for family arriving for the Christmas break, and TomO always likes to put on a bit of a show and was “on the mat” doing his thing.
Oddly enough, no one saw the awkward way he landed on the mat, but he came down to the house, holding an elbow and tears streaming down his little angelic face.
He wasn’t used to this happening, and the shock and pain were taking its toll on our little bloke!
We secured his arm and headed straight for the hospital. And thankfully on the way his spirits started to lift; he was asking whether he would still be able to use his iPad – yes a good sign that he was at least settling and recovering from the shock!
After numerous x-rays, and an examination by an emergency room doctor it would appear to be a soft-tissue injury, however they are going to take another look on Christmas Eve, just in case there is a small fracture that they couldn’t see due to the swelling, which wasn’t actually too bad.
Our biggest challenge lies ahead – keeping him off the trampoline to allow the injury to recover, as TomO isn’t one to dwell, he’s stoic just like his mother, two peas in a pod!
And we wouldn’t have him any other way.
Get better soon mate!
ps: You may notice two springs missing on this mat. This mat has been replaced…
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Trust and Faith (Just embrace it)
Trust and faith, sometimes there are situations in your life when you just have to trust something outside of your control, and have faith in your own ability.
Embrace it, as TomO, our beautiful son says…
And even at such a young age, he has great confidence and faith in himself, and embraces everything he does with so much enthusiasm.
The daring of the young, crikey, you’ve just got to love it…
And as I head to the shed for a row today, I’ll be chanting that mantra…just embrace it!
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Great Southern Land (Hidden in the summer for a million years)
Australia is a country of diverse landscapes, from golden beaches that stretch as far as the eye can see, to mountains that touch the ocean, and outback plains where the red soil kisses a deep blue sky…
We have been fortunate to travel extensively around our country, at times piloting an aircraft over this wondrous land, and other times in one of our four-wheel drive vehicles.
The other day we were reminiscing some of the trips we have had, especially to the Outback, our favourite place to visit.
And where is the Outback, I hear you ask…
Well, you know, outback; back of yonder!
Those who have never visited, come on down and explore our country, to marvel at our beautiful fauna and flora…you won’t be disappointed, and those who have come and gone, return soon, we miss you.
Enjoy the photos of our travels, mostly taken by Janet and TomO…
And am I just a little bit biased about this great country, our island continent, The Great Southern Land?
Strewth mate, you bet I am!
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Ordinary People – Achieving Great Things
“But there are men for whom the unattainable has a special attraction. Usually they are not experts; their ambitions and fantasies are strong enough to brush aside the doubts which more cautious men might have.
Determination and faith are their strongest weapons. At best such men are regarded as eccentric; at worst, mad…”
These are words penned by the legendary mountaineer, Walt Unsworth, and they have had a profound effect on me since I read them a number of years ago.
At the time when he penned them he was making a broader comment on climbers heading to Mt Everest.
These words summed me up perfectly, I thought.
I’m sure many will be able to relate to them equally, regardless of what your pursuits are…
Over the years I have pursued a whole range of activities, some adventurous, others less so – but I have always been driven by a desire to simply embrace life…
And I have never considered myself an expert in any of them, but it has always been a fierce determination that has seen me through; a strong faith in my ability to grasp the key things, to put them into practice.
I’ve never considered anything I’ve done as a failure, but I’ve had plenty of learning experiences, set-backs that have helped me to learn, to grow, and to develop. I’m thankful for those set-backs, as they have made me stronger.
Eccentric; mad; yes, I’ve been referred in that way many times.
Today, I wear those comments proudly, like a badge.
Walt’s words have encouraged me to have the confidence to pursue my dream of climbing large mountains, to consider making an attempt on the summit of Mt Everest, in the least, to have the courage to admit that I want to climb it.
Acknowledging your dreams is probably the greatest step you can make towards them becoming a reality…
The power of thought should never be under estimated, both positive, and negative.
Every day on Wordspress, millions of words are written by ordinary people, stories about the challenges life has thrown at them, what they have done, and continue to do to overcome them.
About their dreams and aspirations, their highs and lows…
Ordinary people who want to improve their fitness, to lose weight, to cycle across a city, or across the world.
Many have their sights set on a fun run, and others having completed one, setting their sights towards running a marathon.
For others, it is their challenge to become stronger, to be able to lift more, or about capturing that once in a life-time photograph, perhaps testing a new recipe to share with friends, or with people they have never met.
Others talk about health and lifestyle challenges they struggle with, that they have overcome.
I read as many of them as I can, they motivate me, and they provide me with much needed inspiration…
Seemingly, there is always someone in this cyberspace community ready to reach out, to congratulate, to console…
These people aren’t super-elite athletes, or neither five-star chefs, nor are they fitness gurus.
They have a much greater status than that, for they are simply ordinary people, the same people that Walt Unsworth wrote about when he penned those words…
To those who aspire to do their best, to challenge themselves, I say never give in, you’re not alone out there, dream big, and pursue your dreams…
But on ordinary people, yes I’ve referred to people as ordinary, but in reality, there is no such thing as ordinary people, we are all unique, we all contribute to the mosaic that makes up the world we live in…
It would be a boring place if we were all the same…
We’d never learn, grow, or develop as people.
Take the time to read over Walt’s musings a couple of times, because he was speaking about you…
Draw on the strength of his writing, it is powerful…
Above all else remember – There are no ordinary moments, no ordinary people, no ordinary lives…
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Strewth – Talk about an Aussie Icon (The Shed)
You’ve got to love the Aussie Shed, a beacon in a sea of green grass, usually found near the back fence on any Australian suburban house block.
I love my shed and even though it was designed to house a couple of cars and all that other stuff that you accumulate over the years, you know, the Christmas presents that you couldn’t stand but didn’t have the heart to send to the refuse tip, they all invariably end up hidden away in a dark corner of the shed.
As a long-term fitness junkie, my shed houses surfboards, more kayaks than you can poke a stick at, a Concept C2 rower and my weight-lifting racks and associated equipment, as well as numerous bikes collected over the years.
Mind you, not all Aussie sheds house exercise equipment, unless of course you count the bar fridge in the corner, which is standard equipment in any shed. Often you’ll see the men-folk doing some elbow bending as they drink a toast to the day passed, usually just around the time the sun is going down over the yard-arm.
Crikey, like a bunch of Cockatoos, high on the fermenting nectar of fruit consumed under a hot Aussie sun, the squawking tends to increase as the amber fluid flows.
And you can be sure a fair amount of advice is passed around, an exchange of ideas, thoughts, happenings, and the odd joke or two. A bit like Speakers Corner where everyone is given a chance to say their bit, to tell their yarn in a not too serious way.
But I’m digressing…
Each morning around 4.30am, or silly-o’clock, as Janet suggests, I make the journey out the back door and up the driveway to the shed. Even the dogs, Milo and Jack, can’t be bothered to get out of their beds, preferring to wave me through. Although, usually after about 30 minutes or so one of them will wander up to see what is going on, but I suspect if they could speak they’d actually be asking for a feed, seemingly oblivious to anything else.
Such is a dog’s life.
Depending on the day I’ll either pursue my strength training, or use the rower for my daily cardio fix and although I would prefer to be out on the water kayaking it isn’t always convenient during the week, so the rowing machine is a great substitute.
I must confess upfront to being an early morning person, I guess you’d have to be to manage a 4.30am start each day, but it does have its advantages. In between the clanging of weight plates being moved, or interval sets on the rower, I can stand outside in the pre-dawn silence and marvel at the stars in the sky, the wondrous universe with you at its centre.
Or once a month watch a full moon setting in the western sky, and if I’m lucky even a shooting star to ponder a thought on.
Strewth, what of the neighbours I hear you ask, what if they don’t share my love of the early morning?
I must say it is hard not to be tempted into playing some heavy metal, AC/DC or Led Zeppelin to help the mood and give that much needed pump for the session. But alas, it is mostly done in silence, apart from a moan or groan under the weight of a squat bar, or the last 500 metres on the rower.
Hey, but it is fair to say, if I head up for an afternoon session, which is more often than not, it is always accompanied by some loud rock or heavy metal music. I’ve always said that Theo, our next door neighbour, is a closet heavy metal fan, so the relationship has never been strained, he doesn’t always say much mind you, but smiles a lot, so maybe he’s actually deaf.
And I’m frequently visited by Janet and TomO during these sessions, which is always welcome, mind you there would never be any chance of that happening in the morning, in fact I don’t think they know what 4.30am actually looks like.
There was a suggestion not too long ago that maybe the shed could be converted and upgraded to have a loft, an upstairs area where TomO and his mates could hang out, maybe even move into as he advances in his teenage years.
You know, a brand new building without the cracks that have accumulated over the years, possibly from too much heavy metal music resonating through the walls, or perhaps just cracking up from the tall stories that have echoed from within – but it just wouldn’t be cricket, and besides where would I put the bar fridge?
No thanks, I like my shed just the way it is, and as the sun slowly breaks the eastern horizon I’m heading to the shed for a row…
And as I do, I’ll leave you with a thought for today, one of my all-time favourites…
“Those that don’t think it can be done, shouldn’t bother the person doing it!”
Hey, and if you get around to it, don’t forget to Like The Landy on Facebook and check out some of the photos…
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No ordinary moments (Crikey – that’s for sure!)
There are no ordinary moments, no ordinary people, no ordinary lives.
That has to be my all-time favourite mantra that I like to chant to myself, it energisers my mind, body, and spirit whenever I do.
Strewth, I’m probably sounding like one of those weirdos’, but in any case, as I headed to the shed for my first row since falling ill with a viral infection just over one week ago, that little ditty was revolving through my mind.
I didn’t push myself on the 10,000-metre row, preferring to simply let me body find and regulate its own pace. Consequently, this wasn’t my fastest or strongest row, in fact it would more resemble something I would do as a warm-up, or warm-down.
But you know, it didn’t matter, this was one of my best rows ever, after all it signalled my body was getting stronger once again, back to normal.
And yes, as I headed back down to the usual spa bath and cold shower I had a beaming smile on my face.
Truly, even in the face of adversity, there are no ordinary moments, no ordinary people, no ordinary lives…
Chant that mantra a few times to yourself today and you might find that the world takes on a whole new and wonderful dimension!
Crikey, I guarantee that strangers will smile at you, you’ll feel better inside, and you’ll feel empowered to tackle anything that life throws at you…
But of course, if all else fails, simply remain out of control and see what develops…
Xplore 