Tag Archives: CALENDAR

MARCH 1 2011 : Day 60 : A ship in the harbour is safe, but ships are not built for this.



A ship in the harbour is safe, but ships are not built for this.

february 06 004

I first saw these words when I was sitting in a Parish office of the Catholic Church in Maroubra, Sydney. I was emerging from the ashes of my personal life and sitting with Sister Clare who had given me Phoenix status as well as bags of clothes and the frozen ‘priests’ dinners’ (the priests apparently preferred home delivery pizza).

Having been blanked out from most forms of wisdom for my 20 Rip Van Winkle years, I was often taken with posters and speakers and songs which seemed to bombard me with an accelerated maturation in the arena of “Wisdom”.

I had spent a good deal of my life trying to stay in Safe Harbours. Trying also to look good. Looking good was pretty much trashed by Life and no harbour seemed to remain ‘safe’. I took the 371 bus home to South Coogee with this message running around inside my head.

A ship in the harbour is safe, but ships are not built for this.

I grew up Methodist and rather thought that Priests and Nuns did not speak to ordinary people. In Sister Clare, I made a good and trusted friend. When money was very short in our new family life, as it usually was, she gave me the assignment of painting 50 Easter Cards for the Nuns for $50. There was a challenge. I didn’t know whether or not I could paint or even draw anymore but I had two children to take care of so I painted. Funny thing, choosing the illustrations for a Nun’s Easter Card.

When I was growing up Methodist, I was disturbed for years over the story of the 5 talents. I knew I was the one who hid their talents under something and hoped they would still all be there when the reckoning came.  Living as a timid neurotic is hard work.


I spent some time back then working out what kind of ship I was and what it was that I was built for. What was I meant to do ? Where was I meant to sail to ? What did I need to take on board ? What crew did I need ? What damage had I sustained ? What repairs were called for ?  Where was my home port ?  And then I set sail !

I am a little older now like the fine yacht UTIEKAH III in which I sailed in the 1970s.

I just located the UTIEKAH III Blog and beneath the image these words are written.


lynne footbridge3


Sorry, Nick, Got to go now.

FEBRUARY 28 2011 : Day 59 : THE END OF SUMMER.



The summer days are fading, as they must
From endless hours to short and fleeting light
The bird’s once bright, immortal tune, now cries
A melancholy aura to the dusk
The children fiercely climb, and dream, and race
Before their wild and unchained days depart

Shannon Georgia Schaubroeck, USA.

The last day of February and of a Summer which truly didn’t go in any manner that I had expected. I love Summertime. For that reason, I lived further North from 2001 – 2009 where its warmer still. This Summer stayed cool until the last week or so. Sometimes cold-ish. It rained and rained and rained. The Capital City of Queensland flooded and houses and people were washed away as well as the ‘ Symbols of our modern city “ as the Premier said. The city of Christchurch was struck by an earthquake  in the very middle of the day and people are still buried in the rubble a week later. Hundreds dead.

My family whirled in and out of our place and the baby turned one. Then, just a week ago, my sister passed away. All through the Summer months and her last Christmas she had become increasingly ill and tiny. Poor wee thing. Seemed that the world wept for her. The skies and the heavens. She DID have the one last Christmas she wanted.

Kati B and her IMM moved houses and now we come to the last day of Summer somewhat daunted. I put Les Murray’s poem in the side column. I know a good few people who don’t like Les Murray but I do. And the ABSOLUTELY ORDINARY RAINBOW is to me a very decent thing to read.  I can sit still when I have read it and weep. I can sit still and gag on an attempted breath. When I read Les Murray, I feel no need whatsoever to ‘ recover’ quickly or rally to the ‘positive’ view of things. I have no obligation to measure my right to sorrow against the rights of others or the nature of the event.

The old howl of mourning  is mine to use as I will.

I see a woman, shining, stretch her hand
and shake as she receives the gift of weeping;
as many as follow her also receive it

and many weep for sheer acceptance

Les Murray.




Totems were vital in Aboriginal life, emphasising the close link between Aborigines and the spirit-world around them. Aborigines believed the world abounded with spirits, some friendly, some hostile. this belief led to explanations about the origin of human life, and also helped to explain what happened at death. Death was the end of physical life only, for a dead person’s spirit was then released from the body. It would make this way to a home in the sky with the spirit-ancestors, or to a spirit-centre such as a waterhole, where it could await rebirth in another human form. In some groups it was believed the spirit was carried across the sea to a land of the dead.


Death was a complex issue. Aborigines often believed there was another form of the dead person’s spirit, called the ‘trickster spirit’. this mischievous spirit sought to remain near the body and cause trouble. It was best not to disturb it. After mourning their loss, often with loud wailing and gashing of their bodies, the family members left the scene of death, though mourning ceremonies could still follow. To prevent arousing the trickster spirit, the use of the dead person’s name was avoided for a long time, possibly for ever. but there were often visible reminders of death, such as mound grave, a cremation site, or a tree-platform on which the body was placed, together with white clay and bark armlets worn by mourners. Graveposts were often erected. In northern Australia, where funeral rituals were important and prolonged, the graveposts of the Tiwi people on Bathurst and Melville Islands were grandly decorated, and were features of the sacred (Pukamani) mourning ceremonies held there.

And now we reach the last day of this Summer. The little girls are back at school. The heat has arrived and appointments are made. Not for me. I deal with that world as little as possible and at the end of this Summer, I have not made an appointment with anyone for anything. I am simply sitting here thinking about the Summer of 2010-2011.


The children fiercely climb, and dream, and race
Before their wild and unchained days depart.

Shannon Georgia Schaubroeck, USA.


There have been a lot of  butterflies and birds about all Summer as well and hopes I have held for a long time about the Family and the Beach and Swimming, well they all came into being.

DECEMBER 2010.  
082 029
Summer clothes in Port Macquarie. Mowing with a chook.
028 xmasladygmdec
North Beach Pool.

Lady selling home made Xmas decorations at Markets.

049 027
Blazing Sunrises. Christmas Days.


Nambucca Heads. Lots of Lorikeets.
JANUARY 2011.  
133 012
Hungry Head Lagoon. Bridge at Bellingen.
021 034
The last day of January 2011.

Out at the swimming hole called the Promised Land in Gleniffer, west of Bellingen.

FEBRUARY 2011.  
lynne2 cassi
Sarong Days. Wild and Unchained Days.
rosella3 040
Rosellas on the fence. Farewell, Summer.