We took our 5-year-old grand-daughter to the local zoo a couple of days ago, and it rained.  
Any zoo is a wonderful mine of information, source of knowledge and entertainer of children.
During two hours of scattered 5-minute downpours we saw birds a-plenty, mongooses (mongeese?), lots of apes, a black bear, tiger and a couple of sea lions. It was good that we saw kangaroos, wallabies, emus and a wombat - all of which prove that even the animals are a bit different in Oz.
It's good that the zoo people in Adelaide have been able to provide roomy "real life-like" settings for most of their bigger exhibits, and the general setting there is vastly better than when I visited as child.
But the bear, while we were there, trod a constant, well-worn path into his den and back to one point a few metres out. Not much fun for him.
The tiger, in a spacious setting of realistic "jungle", paced steadfastly up and back along the back fence.
Then there were the two sea lions, swimming interminable circuits of a circular pool that looked about half a metre deep and about 10 metres across - This for animals built to range widely, designed for speed and agility.
Now, I might have the wrong idea. It could be that these big animals were not stressed, or bored, or at all unhappy. It could have been near feeding time, with them demonstrating the stress we all tend to show when we "just can't wait" for a good feed.
I know that good zoos (and ours is one) are considered vital for the preservation of many species, as well as good at entertaining and educating we humans. I know that great efforts are made to keep the animals fit and happy.
But I can't help wondering how we'd feel if kidnapped by an interplanetary visitor and exhibited in his zoo.

The day had finally arrived-my long awaited trip to beautiful Batemans Bay!

The taxidriver made sure he took the longest route possible (avoiding the faster freeway with its tolls), and inspite of three reminders, took me to Southern Cross instead of Flinders St. Station.

Never mind, I told myself, remain positive, enjoy yourself!

Onto the bus;  47 mostly white-haired female passengers jostled for the front seats.

Some of the questions:  ''Why do you have a seat by yourself?  ''I don't know.''  Where do you come from?  How many years have you lived in Australia?  Why do you still have an accent?''

Many hours later arrival in Bateman's Bay, only to discover--sadly--some very elderly passengers had to climb ladder-like, see-thru, narrow steps to their rooms.

I did not dare mention my two-bedroom, lounge room. kitchen, microwave lodgings!  Why me-I don't know, did not expect luxury.

The lovely weather was matched by the green, beautiful scenery;  the Mogo Zoo, Fitzroy Falls, a cruise on the Catbalou near Eden, just being a few of the many highlights!

As it turned out, several passengers were chosen to be discussed at length or avoided altogether:  A 94 year old lady on her own, an aged digger with his outgoing, handicapped,Chinese wife, her third generation (in Australia) cousins, the Greek passengers.

Never imagined in my wildest dreams that aged people could be so discriminating!  Old-fashioned racism, or ageism?

          Born in Des Moines, Iowa, in 1951, Bill Bryson became The Thunderbolt Kid at an early

age.  (The cover of my library hardback shows an old jumper, sightly holey, with a lightning bolt

emblem.)   This persona allowed the young Bryson to melt his worst enemies into nothingness.

(A great way for a young person to sublimate deep anger and start afresh !)

The recollections throughout are of course American, but they are universal enough to

bring on understanding  laughter- out loud -  from the reader.  His parents are not without

their eccentricities, but it is refreshing to have them recalled so warmly, and to hear that

his father was "the nicest human being I have ever met.  It was like being friends with God."

Bryson sustains throughout  the memories  of childhood in another time, with its joys (mainly) and sorrows (luckily not   overwhelming ones).   The light  humour is one of the elements

that keeps this book so readable from beginning to end, and there is also enough recognisable,

universal reality in it that can be immediately appreciated.  

When I was 6 years old the Queen visited my home town and my grandmother took me to see her on the drive from the railway station down London Road. All the children in the crowd lining the road had small Union Jacks unfortunately because we arrived late I did not get a flag.
As the Queen drove by she spotted me in the crowd (I had wormed my way to the front). When she saw me the Queen stopped waving, pointed to me, turned to Prince Phillip and said "Look at that horrid little boy waving he doesn’t even have a flag!”
And that’s how I met the Queen.
(This is an almost true story)

I have just visited Lorries website, Read the jokes ,some old some new  very funny

Australian bosses, so it seems, will soon have the right (and responsibility) to check their workers’ emails. The new scheme is all part of improving national security, according to our Government.
I can’t help thinking that, in the realm of stupid propositions, this has to be right up near the top.
Firstly, assuming that the checks will be on emails sent to and from the workplace, how’s the “boss” going to find time for his own work if he has to spy on his workers? I can’t see how he could be permitted to appoint a staff member to spy on his or her mates.
I suppose, though, that someone will soon invent software that searches incoming and outgoing mail for mention of sedition, or a range of other crimes such as industrial spying, or pornography, or even illicit romances.
But, surely, our civilisation has reached a pitiful level if government feels the need to instruct employers to spy on their workforce!
Anyway, why don’t they install whopping great computers and spies to vet all of the nation’s emails and phone calls, as is said to be done in the U.S?
What a pity it is that we can’t all grow up!

Hi, and welcome to my blog.

Or, to put it another way, Hi and welcome to my blog :)

I joined Greypath quite some time ago, then we moved house, downsized dramatically, (this included throwing out all my little books with usernames and passwords) and so I have joined up again.

A little about me, Australian, living in Victoria by the bay, married to the greatest guy ever, 4 adult children and 4 grandchildren.  I have a large extended family with parents still living and thriving.

Hobbies are crafts...Decoupage, Knitting, Crocheting, Cross Stitch, Tapestry, making doll's houses...in fact anything except quilting which I have never been able to get in to for some reason.

I love to write, Silly Poetry and serious, short stories, stories of our travels round this wonderful land of Oz, and I am hoping Greypath has a Writer's Corner somewhere?

I am also a computer nerd, I would live in front of it...IF I was allowed lol   I have my own website for women http://w2wfriends.com, where women from all over the world gather to meet, talk over the events of their day, share their problems and joys and know that they will be understood.  We also have men registered with us, who fit in very well :)  I first learned about computers when I bought a little commodore64, which had a tiny GEOS program, from then I was hooked and have been through every type of computer since.  Learned to program a DOS (self taught) and then discovered Windows!!  I am not too keen on Vista....yet.....but I will conquer it (my new mantra)

I have been deaf since I was 26, having only 25% hearing in one ear, the other is profoundly deaf, but there are worse things in life.  I can still see the sunrise, and my loved ones, what else do I need? 

Reading is a great love of mine, Sci Fi, Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Diana Gabaldon, too many authors to list but I will read anything except penny dreadfuls and trash, although my mother always says if they printed on toilet paper I would read that lol

I am looking forward to meeting new friends here, and will spend a few days familiarizing myself with Greypath, it does look very interesting.