Category Archives: Try Something Different

#57 Enjoy the Royal Melbourne Show

Despite a childhood growing up in regional Victoria, followed by several years living in Melbourne, I’ve never been to the Show.

This year, unexpectedly, my time finally arrived:

#57 Enjoy the Royal Melbourne Show 

In the ’50s and ’60s, it seemed the only ones who snared such an exotic outing as the Show were the kids with fabulously wealthy parents or indulgent grandparents who could afford the trip to Melbourne, the entrance fee AND the cost of the enviable Showbags. Or the kids who, lucky little sods, had a carnie for a relative. How I envied them.

They’d all return after the September holidays full of exciting tales of terror-laden big dipper rides or crazy dodgem cars and they’d be sporting the coolest toys that the rest of us could never have because they were only available in select Showbags once a year and only at the Show.

Toys like yoyos with red and white curly logos reading CocaCola on the side while the rest of us had to make do with plain, ugly ones that didn’t advertise anything, or hula hoops with glittery colours, so much more sophisticated than the plain-jane ones we had to suffer.

Show 1

                                                            …aah, the carnies

Of course, by the time I moved to Melbourne to study at eighteen, no self respecting, cool ’70’s chick would be seen dead at the Show. Not that I could afford it then either, but how naff would it have been to admit I wanted to go?

A few weeks ago, my sister and I were reminiscing about Bertie Beetles, those little insect-shaped treats of our childhood made up of the crumbs of Violet Crumbles coated in chocolate. We discovered, via the internet, that they can no longer be purchased in shops, but here’s the rub: you can buy Bertie Beetles once a year if you purchase a Bertie Beetle Showbag at the Royal Melbourne Show!

Foiled again, damn it!

But there’s a joy in growing older. Now that there’s no-one to impress and nothing much embarrasses me any more, I could jump at the chance to attend the Show when friends invited me to stay an extra day recently while I was visiting them in the city.

As I was telling my friend the Bertie Beetle story on the train, having just accepted her invitation to attend the Show the following day, she mentioned that the Showbag pavilion could be bumper-to-bumper with people sometimes (there’s a whole pavilion dedicated to Showbags? Really? Amazing!) and it might be difficult to get the Showbag of my choice. So I said it didn’t really matter if I didn’t get a Bertie Beetle show bag.

A stranger sitting opposite, a woman about my age who evidently overheard our conversation, leaned forward, looked me in the eye and said.

‘Yes, it does matter. You must get a Bertie Beetle Showbag.’

Aah, I thought. A woman who understands what a 50 year history of Showbag envy feels like.

As well as the Showbag pavilion, there were other things I didn’t know about the Show. Something called Pie in the Sky

Pie in the sky

which is apparently as well known a meeting place at the Show as Under the Clocks at Flinders Street station is in the city.

But then I saw the plaque about it, and it seems it’s a pretty recent addition…

Pie explanation

…it only went up in 1977

The joy of the Show is that there’s something for everyone.

The baby animal petting arena was a delight – though the animals wouldn’t stay still long enough for me to capture a good image – and the dog shows were … well, different, unusual, nice.

There was the sublime…

Show 3

the humorous …

Show cake

and the ridiculously wacky…

Show 2

But best of all, there was this:

Berties

So thank you, my lovely stranger on the train, for your understanding and encouragement.

#51 Construct…something

A story oft told in my family –  and it’s not apocryphal – is that when my father was conscripted into the army in 1941 and tested to assess where his skills lay and therefore where best to deploy him, he scored zero for ‘mechanical comprehension’. Zero.

Never before in the history of the AIF – and possibly the navy and the RAAF – had a seemingly intelligent chap failed to answer even one question correctly in this particular category. As a result, he became something of a cause célèbre for a while, then found his niche writing and producing sketch comedy and variety shows – in between fighting the Japanese – which helped boost the men’s morale in their down time.

What this meant, of course, is that I grew up never seeing a hammer, nail, screwdriver, drill, lever, cogwheel or any type of power tool in use at home. Ever. And although I’d longed for a meccano set as a child to no avail – though to be fair, I never told my parents this as it would have shocked them – becoming a talented handyman has long been a secret, unfulfilled desire. I am in awe of people who can build things.

So on the basis that my old letter box needed a makeover recently, the time to put to use my horribly stunted home handyman skills had arrived:

#51 Construct…something (that requires limited tool skills)

The letter box in question is nothing more than a space between bricks that had a plastic tub at the base, wedged in with two black rubber hose lengths, to catch the letters and a makeshift ‘lid’ to prevent rain dripping down. Embarrassing really…

…hence the blurry photo

So its replacement would need to be made of a waterproof material that could be measured to fit snugly, cut to size without using anything with the prefix ‘power’, formed into an oblong shape with a couple of ‘steps’ bent in opposite directions and then painted.

Material that could do all this was totally beyond my mechanical comprehension (I’m with you, Dad) so I turned to a friend and expert we’ll call my Bunning’s Buddy (or BB). We meet there most weekends; he to buy mysterious tools and materials for his latest innovative mini-Taj Mahal projects and I to watch in awe before heading to the garden section.

(I’d post photos of the AMAZING floor to ceiling bookshelves he made that can be opened with a hidden handle to reveal an entire bedroom behind, but it might make my revamped letter box look even more pathetic.)

Anyway, BB recommended using Corflute:

…a hitherto unknown product that looks like cardboard but acts like plastic!

Turns out, this waterproof material can be measured to fit snugly, cut to size without using anything with the prefix ‘power’, will bend along straight lines and can be painted. Bingo!

Using the well known rule among tradies to ‘measure twice, cut once,’ I soon realised this guide was meant for professionals. The rule for newbie home handymen, is ‘measure twice, cut once, return to Bunnings for more Corflute, measure twice, cut once, return to Bunnings again for supplies, repeat ….’

But eventually, stage one was successfully completed:

Then stage two:

And finally stage three: painted and secured:

And all done without hammering a nail, driving in a screw, using a power tool or cutting myself with the Stanley knife.

Dad would be proud!

#50 Find the App of Your Dreams

apps-header-2Looking for the perfect app isn’t that far removed, I suspect, from finding the ideal partner on a dating website.

A lot of trial and error, then just when you think you’ve struck gold, a flaw is found that’s significant enough to lead you to think, ‘No, you’re not the app for me.’  But the search can be fun, and you get to go on lots of app dates as you try and:

#50 Find the App of Your Dreams

I came to the app dating scene quite late. The truth is, in the early days, I didn’t understand what an app was for and why I’d need one, and I dreaded the thought of investing in something that turned out to be a dud. But when I discovered that heaps of apps are free, and that a pointless app or even a less than perfect one can be banished, no questions asked, by applying a little pressure to its logo before giving it the Flick! from your screen, I turned into a serial app dater. And unlike partner interactions, it’s okay to keep several of them on the go simultaneously, toying with them and using them only as long as they remain useful.

So here’s a run down of some that I’ve tested.

instagram-logoINSTAGRAM

A young friend told me Instagram was essential, though I was reluctant to give it a try, due in part to attending a filmmaking course once where the teacher kept interrupting the session to say “I’ll just put this on my Instagram feed.” Already I’d judged it a tad narcissistic, endlessly gazing into the mirror with admiration and pride at its own reflection.

Then I came across this Instagram post about a breakfast prepared by a famous chef for his young daughter:

insta-prat

I LOVE breakfasts, but as John McEnroe might have said “You cannot be SERIOUS!”

How could I join in the Instagram game and keep a straight face? Time to Flick! this one.


So I moved onto

pinterest-logo

PINTEREST

I’ve had this one for a while now, but to be honest, apart from being a mild diversion during times of boredom, I’m not sure that it does anything useful. Maybe I don’t understand it well enough, but I’m finding it a bit repetitive. How many times do I need to see a cute puppy? I’m tempted to give it the Flick! toobut then again, I’m a sucker for cute puppies…


shazam-logo

SHAZAM

Who hasn’t heard a piece of music they love and wanted to identify it? If so, Shazam may be the app for you, but be prepared for disappointment. Without doubt, it will let you down one day.

By the time you’ve opened the app, clicked on the start button and waited for it to ‘hear’ the music, it will tell you “we didn’t quite catch that. Please get closer to the sound and try again”, the music will have stopped and you’ve missed your chance. I call it the Sloth app. Too slow to be considered the dreamboat you’re after.


cluckar-logo

CluckAR

This is Choice’s clever little app that tells you, after you photograph the carton, if the eggs are truly free range. But as I can hear them being laid in my back garden, it’s not quite the one for me, though I’ve talked it up to my friends suggesting it may be a real keeper.


vivino-logo

VIVINO

This app’s very impressive. Ever walked into a bottle shop and been overwhelmed with choice? Just photograph the wine’s label and receive instant feedback on its rating.

vivino-1

In my dreams….

They’ve added an even more impressive feature lately – listing the best wines available in a certain price range.

vivino-2

 Too easy

Bit worried spending too much time with this one might lead me down the path to alcoholism, though….


snap-send-solve-logo

SNAP SEND SOLVE

Finally, an app that sits slap bang in my demographic. An app whose logo tells me EXACTLY what it does, so I don’t have to look at it and think “What’s this one for again?” But even better, one that has the word SOLVE in its name.

Have you seen something in your local area you’d like fixed? All you need to do with this app is snap a photo of the problem, send it to the relevant authority from the list it provides and sit back and wait for it to be solved.  Probably too good to be true, I thought, but worth a try.

Crossing a small footbridge recently with the dog, I discovered loose, rotting boards underfoot crying out to be repaired before they gave way and injured someone.

dog-on-bridge

But I was in a hurry and didn’t have time to send the photos off that day, so I returned shortly after to verify the address for council, only to discover:
fixed-bridge

THEY’D READ MY MIND AND FIXED THE BRIDGE ALREADY!!

This app was definitely looking too good to be true.

So shortly after this spooky event, the aforementioned dog was being walked in a dog-off-leash park adjacent to a fenced children’s playground when he found a space beneath the bars and shot inside. This wasn’t good. It took some coaxing for him to return…

dog-returns

Time to test the app for real, so I fired off the photos with this message:

snap-complaint-2

I kid you not, three days later I received a call from council to explain that although fencing in children’s playgrounds is strictly controlled by a number of inflexible by-laws that prevents netting being added, they’d work on a solution.

The very next day, here’s what I found:

dog-block-2

Try getting through that, Ziggy!

I’m smitten.

Of all the apps I’ve spent time with, this might just be THE ONE.

#48 Mess About in Boats

It wasn’t until Form One (as Year Seven was called back then) that I was introduced to the magical world of boating.

This was courtesy of Kenneth Grahame’s engaging tale of the adventures of Ratty and Mole, Badger and Toad in The Wind in the Willows.

Who wouldn’t be seduced by Ratty’s pronouncement in the very first chapter?

quote-messing-about

Alas, I was growing up in a bitterly cold, inland city without a beach or river to its name, nurtured by loving parents who… well… you couldn’t call them outdoor types. (This may explain why, on my first-ever camping trip at age 22, I had no idea that you didn’t pitch your tent in a cosy hollow under a gum tree. Especially without checking for the possibility of torrential rain during the night.) So my love of boating was entirely imaginary for many years.

What better time to change all that now though, and live the dream. A chance to…

#48 Mess About in Boats

Ratty was spot on – it’s so worth doing.

Boats, of course, come in all shapes and sizes. And degrees of safety.

There was that disastrous early experiment with three friends, when we were sent down a raging Murray River in two canoes, on our own, by the Dodgy Brothers’ Hire-a-Risky-Boat Adventures. 

Thanks to life jackets and expert recreational kayakers who raced across to pluck us from the water as we parted ways with our canoes and careened towards South Australia, I lived to brave the river again one late afternoon as dusk was falling. But this time, it was in the back of a canoe with a World Champion/Murray River Marathon winner doing all the hard work in the front seat. Bliss!

Racing down the Murray and up Wodonga Creek taking curves at breakneck speed with an expert guide is truly exciting, even though he mistakenly thought he could further spook me with a diversion past a bat colony.

bats-ahoy

Amazing. Flying mammals! What’s not to like…?


If Scandi Noir is the mood you’re after though, then messing about in a boat at New Zealand’s Doubtful Sound is just the ticket. All dark and brooding and ominous. No wonder James Cook was doubtful it was navigable when he named it.

nz36-nov-11

You could well be at the end of the earth. Oh, hang on a minute…

Even the silhouette of a travelling companion takes on a sinister hue in this part of the world.

nz38-nov-11


Exploring in a boat means you can get up close and personal with all manner of wildlife.

Spot seals sunning themselves,

seals

Or water birds doing a picturesque pose694

…in splendid isolation


But you don’t have to travel miles away from home to find a relaxing boating experience.

The Sienna Daisy is a new cruise boat purpose built for the Murray River right here in Albury. No more worries of a river too low to support the mechanism of cumbersome paddle steamers, romantic though they may be.

sienna-daisy

Take a 60 or 90-minute scheduled river cruise or book a private function. Include the Captain’s Lunch of a BBQ and salads if you want and complement this with a glass of wine.  All your worries will disappear into the water as you float along, caressed by the gentle movement and sense of escape.

And If you’ve ever wondered why Noreuil Park has such an unpronounceable name, you can find that out, too.

I could have boated all day…

monument-from-river

and just a stone’s throw from home…


No doubt about it, messing about in boats is the bees knees.

I wonder if it’s too late to consider buying my own boat? Of course, I’d have to get a bigger car, too  – with a tow bar  – and a boat trailer. And learn how to reverse them all down a narrow driveway and a slippery ramp without jack-knifing. Is that do-able for a post-adult woman, I wonder?

Because I can’t help thinking that being the skipper of your own boat would make you feel like a Master of The Universe.

1-charlie-at-the-wheel

Wouldn’t you agree, Charlie…?

#47 Revel in a Post-adult Period

It used to be that adding the prefix ‘Post’ to any word meant ‘after’. Think ‘post meridiem’ for after noon and ‘post mortem’ for after death.

But then along came postmodernism and suddenly, that harmless prefix took on a deeper meaning. Sure, postmodernism came after modernism, but it came with its own definition too, that is, epistemological and moral relativism, and pluralism. These are apparently rejections of the old-fashioned tenets of modernism like rationality, absolute truth and progress.

And I ask you, is there anything more embarrassing than being caught with ideas that pre-date postmodernism?

So when I heard last week that the Oxford dictionary now includes the term post-truth to mean not lies, but the irrelevance of factual rebuttals in preference to emotion and personal beliefs, it awoke in me a freedom I didn’t realise I was craving. The freedom to:

#47 Revel in a Post-adult Period 

The Post-adult period is the time after your responsible adult years have passed but it also confers an additional meaning whereby you can take on any behaviour or habits you want.

As to exactly when this commences, it begins the day you realise you’ve lost your relevance to society. That moment of shock on hearing or reading in the news that an ‘elderly [insert-your-own-age] woman was today found …’.

When they use adjectives like ‘elderly’, ‘old’ or ‘senior’ to describe people like you, it’s time to fight back in the best way possible. Become a card-carrying member of the Post-adult period and revel in it.

So here’s my list of pleasures that those of us celebrating this special time may now embrace for the rest of our lives. Do feel free to add others.

After all, we’ve earned it.

*Avoid anything that doesn’t give you consummate pleasure.

I’m thinking activities like having a job. Or sitting through a meeting that has minutes and an agenda. Or ploughing on with a book that you realise, by page 20, is boring you witless. Or watching a silly film to the very end.

screenshot-2016-11-22-12-33-16No offence if you loved these, but I might have a mere 30 years left on earth…


*Have a snack immediately before dinner, even if it spoils your appetite. Especially if it spoils your appetite.

Longing for some paté on toast in the late afternoon? Go for it! Can’t resist a whole bowl of guacamole and corn chips at 7.00pm? Be my guest. You’re in your post-adult years. You get to set the rules.


*Discover wicked new tastes you love – and take them up with gusto.

I recently tried fried pancetta as an alternative to bacon. It’s magnificent. Why didn’t I know about its crispy deliciousness before now?

Have an egg and pancetta roll instead. Or try it with tomato on toasted ciabatta:

pancetta-and-toms-on-toast

…yum


*Replace bad things with alternatives (that might be worse)


Are you over margarine and the whole worried-about-your-cholesterol chorus? Longing for some cholesterol-rich food? Switch to butter and store it in a stylish dish on your bench top so it’s always available and always spreadable.

butter

Butter’s natural, tastes marvellous and chances are scientists will discover in the not-too-distant future that it has life-prolonging properties. Just like they’ve now realised that toddlers who drink full-fat milk end up slimmer than those given low fat milk.

And take honey. It’s natural too, but for some reason I’ve always found the flavour a little … disappointing. Then I remembered something that tastes the way I’d wanted honey to taste but doesn’t involve any part of it being transported on the legs of insects.

I’m talking Maple Syrup. Now available in BIG, BEAUTIFUL one litre jars, especially for Post-adults.

maple-syrup

…and it always flow smoothly, even in winter


*Use buttermilk in recipes

I know, buttermilk sounds evil; probably is evil.

Deliciously evil in pancakes making then fluffy and puffy and soft:

buttermilk-pancakes

And you’re right. That’s not honey.

Tenderly evil as a marinade for chicken or pork, such as when making your own version of ‘fried chicken with 11 secret herbs and spices’ at home.

chicken-recipe

 

 

kfc

almost as good as you-know-what…


*Play with fire

Like running wth scissors, playing with dangerous equipment is also on the agenda in Post-adult years.

fire-2

 

So if you’ve always had a hankering for creme brûlée with that lovely crunchy toffee topping, now’s the time. Blast away to your heart’s content. No-one will tell you to be careful.

creme-brulee


*Outsource the stuff you don’t like doing.

Post-adults can outsource anything they don’t like.

Here’s why: if you read that ‘an elderly [insert-your-own-age] woman was today found scrubbing the floors’ you’d rightly feel sorry for her. She shouldn’t have to do that any more, poor old thing. So vacuuming, washing floors, cleaning bathrooms and whipper-snipping are out and no-one will think less of you.

But if you say coyly, ‘I like to keep active,’ you’re able to continue using the electric lawnmower, (such fun), gardening (no digging expected), cooking (no catering for more than two; four tops) and exercising the dog (but never undertaking a ‘fun-run’).

And as for the front yard makeover you’ve been thinking of doing yourself for years and years, forget it. Once you hit Post-adulthood, just ask friends who’s the best-priced paver in town (never spend hours organising quotes yourself – only adults do that) and the recommended one will do a far better job than you could ever have achieved.

img_2297


There’s only one caveat to life in the Post-adult lane.

All things in moderation.

Except maybe chocolate…

 

 

 

 

 

 

#45 Meander along Sydney Writers Walk

Did you know that Sydney has a dedicated Writers Walk?

It displays a series of over forty-five plaques containing a snatch of an author’s thoughts about the Australian land and its people together with a brief bio of the writer.

Despite having visited the site of the Walk (it sweeps around Circular Quay from the Opera House to beyond the Museum of Contemporary Art) at least – oh – maybe two or three times a year for the past twenty-five years and despite having, in all likelihood, walked by several of the plaques on each occasion, it’s completely passed me by. And I suspect nearly everyone who’s visited Sydney has walked this walk, but most of us have never seen it.

How embarrassing.

Truth be told, my pedantic writer’s streak is a little uncomfortable with the missing apostrophe in the large bronze tablet announcing Writers Walk because you couldn’t possibly interpret it to mean that ‘writers walk’. They don’t. They’re much too busy scribbling away in their attic, all alone, hunched over a manuscript.

But despite my misgivings about a monument that’s dedicated to writers and yet contains a punctuation error, once the site was drawn to my attention, a visit was essential.

#44 Meander along Sydney Writers Walk

If I were to post an image of every one of these neglected bronze gems, it would overwhelm this blog entry, so allow me to present a small sample of the witty, the poignant, the prescient or the just plain irreverent comments made by so many great writers who have visited our country or were born here.

Just for fun, I’ve added a modern Australian visual match.

1. David Williamsonwilliamson

screen-shot-2016-09-24-at-3-50-58-pmanzac-bridge…though he forgot to mention the obsession with food,too

2. C.E.W.Beancew-bean

screen-shot-2016-09-24-at-3-50-58-pm

screen-shot-2016-09-24-at-2-55-01-pm

…tho’ it seems that ‘the whole people’s’ representatives aren’t trying too hard to work it out .

3. Ethel Turner

screen-shot-2016-09-24-at-3-58-17-pmscreen-shot-2016-09-24-at-3-50-58-pm

img_2425-1

Hey, who’d wear a bike helmet when there’s no-one around?

4. C.J.Dennis

screen-shot-2016-09-24-at-4-04-14-pmscreen-shot-2016-09-24-at-3-50-58-pm

img_1404

…still knocks you endways

5. Charles Darwin

screen-shot-2016-09-24-at-4-11-08-pmscreen-shot-2016-09-24-at-3-50-58-pmscreen-shot-2016-09-24-at-5-02-11-pm

…reflections of the old and the new grandeur

6. Rudyard Kipling

screen-shot-2016-09-24-at-5-20-24-pm

screen-shot-2016-09-24-at-3-50-58-pm

screen-shot-2016-09-24-at-5-17-51-pm

We’ll do wonderful things…some day 

7. Barry Humphries

screen-shot-2016-09-24-at-5-23-45-pmscreen-shot-2016-09-24-at-3-50-58-pm

screen-shot-2016-09-24-at-5-25-33-pm

…feels like home to me

So now you’re possibly asking, ‘How have I missed noticing the Writers Walk?’

Well, here’s a clue:

screen-shot-2016-09-23-at-2-11-20-pm

If writers had ball skills instead of verbal skills, would more people notice what’s underfoot?

The plaques are all in-laid  – in the footpath. And shooing away hordes of oblivious tourists to get the perfect photograph of each plaque wasn’t easy!

So now you know where it is, I hope this has given you a tantalising taste of what’s on show at the Sydney Writers Walk.

#43 Get to Grips with Twitter®

Since first signing up to Twitter® in 2011, I’ve had a love-hate relationship with the social behemoth, played out by ignoring it for the first few years.

Like Facebook®, (with which I have a hate/hate relationship due in no small part to Jesse Eisenberg’s portrayal of Mark Zuckerberg in The Social Network as a sociopath who should have no input into my life at all) their pervasive nature makes me uneasy. That and the fact that I feel compelled to write the grovelling letter ® after their names lest I be sued for infringement of something.

But while Facebook® can be ignored if you don’t mind having no social life – and especially if you don’t want others to know you have no social life – Twitter® has a way of popping it’s head above the parapet to pique your interest or make you laugh out loud

Funny tweet

 

 

or compel you to pen a few lines of outrage.

There’s a skill in saying something pithy or clever or funny in a limited number of characters. What a great retirement challenge:

#43 Get to Grips with Twitter®

Like all technologies, it has a language of its own, but once you get your head around all the symbols, it makes sense. Sort of.

  • If you wake one morning to discover that Prince Philip of England has been given an Australian knighthood on Australia Day and you want to share this hilarious/inappropriate/that’s-when-Tony Abbott-jumped-the-shark moment, you can tweet a comment immediately and read other posts sent by people who choked on their vegemite toast that morning on hearing the news and just had to tweet about it, too.
  • And if you also wanted Mr Abbott to know that you thought he’d gone stark raving mad and that his days were numbered, you can include his Twitter® name – which is @tonyabbottMHR – in your tweet too, so he gets a copy.
  • It is not compulsory to follow the lives of starlets or celebrities.

Twitter® becomes much more interesting when you realise that you only need follow tweets from people whose opinions you value. Provided they don’t have them too frequently. (Sorry I eventually had to unfollow you, @annabelcrabb, but seriously… ).

Shortly after working out how to tweet, I discovered that narcissism takes over and you find yourself wanting someone to like one of your tweets or better still, to re-tweet it to their followers.

Sending out a tweet in which you praise a public institution – especially one that gets complaints most of the time – is a surefire way that they’ll like your message and retweet your words – to a much larger pool of followers than you could ever hope to have yourself.

So I began my Twitter® experience by sending this flattering tweet accompanied by photo:

Ziggy at park

Sure enough, one ‘retweet’ and one ‘like’. Yay!!

Pretty soon your eyes are peeled for anything clever or funny you can tweet about in the elusive search for more likes and more retweets.

Watching Arthur Sinodinos interviewed in front of a Sydney ‘backdrop’ (aka a blue screen) recently, a camera malfunction left him looking like this:

Arthur

Childhood memories of crudely painted graffiti on brick walls in back streets suddenly returned, and after a quick search for the right photo and a bit of rejigging, I was able to tweet this:

Foo

Screen Shot 2016-07-20 at 7.40.13 PM

Suddenly  8 ‘retweets‘ and 4 ‘likes‘!

Twitter® was becoming dangerously addictive by now.

Most recently, Mike Baird, the Premier of NSW, decided to ban greyhound racing after an impeccable investigative report found it to be so steeped in systemic and entrenched cruelty that it was unsalvageable. (Thank you, Mr Baird)

What should happen, but our Deputy Prime Minister – who claims to speak for country folk – came out in support of the greyhound racing industry with these am-I-reading-this-correctly words:

 

Barnaby Joyce

As the owner of a smallish sighthound who avidly followed these greyhound reports on television:

Ziggy watches greyhound I had no option but to go down the path of outraged tweeting and post this one:

My tweet

 

It hit the spot.

It’s up to 20 retweets and 21 likes now. Who’d have guessed that an outraged tweet against a politician would be popular?

But that’s it. I think I’m done with Twitter® now, because at the end of the day, how many retweets would be enough? Fifty? A thousand? A hundred thousand?

Best go out on a high before I get sucked in further…