Off to Brisbane at the weekend to see Wales play the Wallabies in the Second Test. For those who don’t follow these things, we’re talking pointy ball and 15-a-side.
Having been derided in the Australian press as a third-rate side, with most of the best players staying home in Wales, there was a stunned silence when Wales went 17-0 ahead in the First Test last Saturday. I watched the game with neighbour John who, at this stage generously remarked: “Well, good on ya.”
I said that they’d messed it up before and could no doubt mess it up again and, sure enough, things went awry but, with 90 seconds to go, Wales were one point ahead when they kicked the ball away and Australia scored a converted try, leaving John and I staring at the screen in disbelief.
We’ve heard little about third-rate sides since, and it’s all set up nicely for Saturday’s re-match in the SunCorp stadium, or, as I should say, the cauldron of the Suncorp Stadium. Mind you, I reckon both sides would get pasted by the All Blacks.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Friday, May 18, 2007
Here Comes The Rain
See. I told you...Farmers Rejoice...and young sheepdogs who have never seen rain are puzzling over puddles.
Friday, May 11, 2007
More Water
Water is much on our minds in this party of the world, and not just because it rained heavily on our metal roof all night. Many of Australia’s major cities are still drifting toward a crisis as supplies diminish in the face of the country’s longest drought, thoughtless development, political inertia, and a political reluctance to stop people doing exactly what they want, which includes watering their lawns and washing their cars.
Most of rural New South Wales is in a worse state, residents worrying not so much about washing the dust off their SUVs, but about feeding their cattle and trying to grow their crops. Lawns? There’s no grass left in many places.
In and around Coffs Harbour, we can afford to feel smug because of climate, topography and the foresight of the local council, which has a nice, full reservoir up in the hills, topped up with supplies from local rivers, and has invested in water recycling.
In fact, one of the estate agents in town reports that the most frequently offered reason for moving here is a secure water supply. I feel it’s time we started keeping quiet about it.
Remember the UK’s short-lived Drought Minister? Well, no sooner had the Government unveiled its plan to save one of the country’s major river systems, the Murray-Darling, and the farmers that depend on it, than it started raining, not enough to solve the problem, but enough to make some think that the tide may have turned.
Drought is inseparable from the global warming debate, which has now made it to the top of the political agenda, though internationally, Australia has something of a bit part. If the country was shut down – power turned off, traffic stopped, no flights etc – then China would make up for the reduction in greenhouse gas emissions in a mere eight months. However, there’s a strong feeling that because Australians are the highest per capita emitters, we have a moral duty to do more.
I find this comforting, and hope that the high moral tone continues when the taps run dry in Sydney and Adelaide. But don’t count on it.
Most of rural New South Wales is in a worse state, residents worrying not so much about washing the dust off their SUVs, but about feeding their cattle and trying to grow their crops. Lawns? There’s no grass left in many places.
In and around Coffs Harbour, we can afford to feel smug because of climate, topography and the foresight of the local council, which has a nice, full reservoir up in the hills, topped up with supplies from local rivers, and has invested in water recycling.
In fact, one of the estate agents in town reports that the most frequently offered reason for moving here is a secure water supply. I feel it’s time we started keeping quiet about it.
Remember the UK’s short-lived Drought Minister? Well, no sooner had the Government unveiled its plan to save one of the country’s major river systems, the Murray-Darling, and the farmers that depend on it, than it started raining, not enough to solve the problem, but enough to make some think that the tide may have turned.
Drought is inseparable from the global warming debate, which has now made it to the top of the political agenda, though internationally, Australia has something of a bit part. If the country was shut down – power turned off, traffic stopped, no flights etc – then China would make up for the reduction in greenhouse gas emissions in a mere eight months. However, there’s a strong feeling that because Australians are the highest per capita emitters, we have a moral duty to do more.
I find this comforting, and hope that the high moral tone continues when the taps run dry in Sydney and Adelaide. But don’t count on it.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Presidential Power
I was walking along the beach with Carl and John, looking for a spot to surf, when I was voted on to the committee of Coffs Harbour’s Short Sharp Film Festival. It’s still not clear to me exactly what I’m doing there but I appear to have agreed, so that’s that.
I have discovered that we need to tread carefully as there appears to be a question mark over the organisation of the previous film festival, which could be fatal in a small town, so we have to appear serious and responsible at all times. John, who is also on the committee, interprets this as being given black Armani suits to wear on the night, but he may be disappointed.
Carl is key to all this, of course. When I suggested he might want to run my membership past the other committee members first, he just said: “Nah, I’m the President.” Then we went surfing.
That was pretty much his last act as President, as he's since been re-titled “chair”. He says he’s used to being sat upon. It’s also sadly removed the opportunity for John and I to say, a la The West Wing, “we serve at the pleasure of the President.”
I have discovered that we need to tread carefully as there appears to be a question mark over the organisation of the previous film festival, which could be fatal in a small town, so we have to appear serious and responsible at all times. John, who is also on the committee, interprets this as being given black Armani suits to wear on the night, but he may be disappointed.
Carl is key to all this, of course. When I suggested he might want to run my membership past the other committee members first, he just said: “Nah, I’m the President.” Then we went surfing.
That was pretty much his last act as President, as he's since been re-titled “chair”. He says he’s used to being sat upon. It’s also sadly removed the opportunity for John and I to say, a la The West Wing, “we serve at the pleasure of the President.”
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