I received this from a very dear old compadre… DB, affectionately known as “Dancing Bear”, sent me this stating… “Interesting numbers. Of course, you will be skeptical, as usual,”…
DB and I have been together for almost 50years and he do know my sceptical and cynical nature well…
On the face of this we quickly are led to assume St. Biden of Delaware is an economic genius and a social wizard! He achieved greater growth, productivity and prosperity in his 4 years than any single president to date… what a man! What a Super Man!
But, no, Johhny, thats not really factual…
Again I rely on those pesky and inconvenient truths/ facts that are buried in numeric confusion and statistical hokus-pokus…
St. Biden of The Delaware has had 4years in office and, from above, we can see that 1st) he is touted at having 5.7% annual “real;” GDP growth. and 2nd) The chart I found on line states annual GDP between 2020-2023 = 2.01%. I guess the 2.01% is not the “REAL” growth… what is real GDP growth?
What is the real GDP growth?
The real GDP growth rate is a more useful measure than the nominal GDP growth rate because it considers the effect of inflation on economic data. The real economic growth rate is a “constant dollar” figure, avoiding the distortion from periods of extreme inflation or deflation to give a more consistent measure.
Haaa… statistical smoke and mirrors, me thinks, but we’ll run with it… Noting well there are lies, damn lies and statistics…
Adjusting the results for various externals may be useful but it is also misleading. And potentially nefarious.
Now, compare to the DJT era, where we see annual growth of 2.43%. But is it “REAL” I’ll wave my magic wand over it and say the magic words and, dunno, in a world where magic and stats rulez, one can never tell what is and what is not real… I do believe in magic. But severely distrust statistics where I cant dismantle the numbers.
Returning to our chart showing 23 years of GDP results: We get an annual average of 2.22% growth in GDP. Rain and shine. DNCv RNC… 2.22 is the average. With or without magic.
I personally shall conclude that an average annual growth of 2% is expected, hail or snow, baring any mishaps or events (such as Covid) that shut things down… Noting well (above) that 2020, the tail end of the Covid era, saw a -2.21 growth, representing a contraction in production. A contraction that was followed by a 5.8% jump in 2021, which to me would appear natural…
My conclusion here, noting the propagandistic nature of this meme, is that 2.% is average and this type of meaningless and misleading BS will be used year after year after year to proclaim each successive prez a genius and a saviour.
Again, I am stuck, amazed how dumb these memes are getting… Allow me…
No, I dont remember when Republicans were “paid off” as referenced. Please enlighten me. Give me more info and a reference I can check. Without such all we have are words. Meaningless words.
The word “exactly” has a definition, and meaning, and as used here its foolish, wrong. Sorry, NO, It is not exactly the same. Far from it.
I do remember when modern medical procedure had the idea that smoking tobacco was ok, even good for you… Back when pretty much everyone smoked…
And that is exactly the same as… nothing, nothing is exactly the same as dumbshit bullshit like this.
A couple things on my mind this morning, Friday – the last Friday on the 10th month…
I am watching as the USofA election stumbles toward the finish line. I’m watching as voting starts, as the noisy, noisy, noisy rhetoric begins to dry up, like paint on a clap board house, its dries slowly, is laid very thick, may look dry on the surface but, no, its still wet n gooey.
One things that strikes me is the blatant admission by the Democrat Party that intelligence and ability is not a requirement to be their presidential candidate.
By dumping sleepy Uncle Joe, and injecting Heels-Up Harris, they are being very honest, they are telling us that The DNC Machine will run the Oval Office. That the body in the seat is only a puppet, a front man, a face to present to the public, an image to market and exploit.
I have said previously that I do not like Hillary Clinton at all. I believe to this day that the Clinton Machine should Locked up for numerous, numerous, numerous crimes both large and small. Hillary and her Machine broke all the rules, played all the fools games, were blatantly corrupt and subsequently lost the 2016 election.
But, importantly, Hillary Clinton was indeed qualified for the office she pursued. She had the experience, the ability and the backbone. Or so I believe.
Policies and politics aside, Hillary had “made her bones” as an international politician.
Heels-up Kamala Harris does not have the ability, the skills, the backbone, the brain power… not al all. Not even a little bit.
The pat-line within all of this is… “name one thing Kamala has done that makes YOU think she is qualified for the Oval Office”… hmmmm, hmmm… give me a minute… nope, cant think of a single thing Ms Harris has done that distinctly qualifies her to be President of the USA.
She is lying about her past; being a prosecutor, being a legislator, being a leader, being middle class, being moderate, being sensible. Working at McDonalds… No, Ms Kamala Harris is not qualified.
At all.
I have written about my past life as a US-non-voting Citizen. I have articulated my thoughts and experiences which has led me to firmly believe that my very Valuable Democratic Vote is too valuable to be cast for Bozo The Clown. And since 1976 (my first year qualifying to vote) I have withheld my vote. I have been waiting ever since for a candidate, right or left, red or blue or green, that IS NOT Bozo The Clown. I’m still waiting.
I do understand that many folks see DJTrump as the only option. I get it. The choice between the disintegration of the USofA (as I know it) AND a more conservative, measured approach is reasonable, understandable.
BUT… I believe that both of the main parties in the USofA two-party-system could have, should have fielded better candidates.
By. the way… When I was young there was a pro Rassler named Kamala…
As the political arena in the USofA becomes a boiling cauldron, and foolish, meaningless memes bounce about the inter-verse, I thought I pop a few bubbles with some pointy facts…
I start here…
1st off, I dont think there is any such thing as Universal Health care. I believe that this is referring to a misunderstanding of countries that offer “socialised medical” benefits.
I am a citizen of 2countries, Australia and Solomon Islands, that offer socialised medical benefits. The fact is both offer services and benefits miles away from universal health care.
I think this meme is trick to make folks in the USofA think they are not getting what others receive. It’s suppose to make folks jealous, unhappy, even mad. Lets all complain about being short-changed, under-served…
But the fact is that the USofA spends more on health care than anyone. Anyone…
The USofA spends almost twice as much “per citizen” for medical purposes than any other Nation.
The folks in the USofA aint getting less than all the others. Nope. The Folks in the USofA is being ripped off.
The USofA is spending megabucks of tax dollars on health and medical benefits. The USofA has, reportedly, the best medical system in the world, so why is this meme even meaningful?
So what’s the problem?
I’d say the internal system(s) that manage and control the megabucks worth of benefits is corrupt. Corrupt and wasteful.
Corrupt and wasteful with public funds.
The system isn’t broken, it is greedy. Insatiable. Corrupted.
An overcast, breezy, blanket worthy morning here in my valley. Yesterday was very hot, aircon’s were on most of the day. Today is nice, light, gentle.
I am moving slow… Came off the Segway the other day and landed on my head. And broke my glasses…
The Segway is an interesting beast in that it’s two wheels holding up the platform you stand on, via gyroscopic controls. So long as the machine is on and the gyroscopes are doing their merry gyroscopic duties, the platform you stand on remains horizontal, stable. The computer knows when life is cool and gives you a smiley face on the Info-Key. Once you make the little guy on the screen unhappy and his smile goes to a frown, beware! The gyros may shut off with little notification. You’ll hear a small beep-beep sound of alarm, then the whole circus thats holding you upright says adios. It shuts down. And the machine stops being cool…
and you relearn that Gravity Never Sleeps.
I was not going fast. (which is indeed deadly, coming off at speed hurts bad)
I upset the gods of gyros and went down over the handlebars and onto my head. The bump above my right eye tells me I went down forward and sideways. My glasses are broken at the right bow. I must have stuck my head with the glasses into the ground with enough force to rip the bow out of the glass.
I know that coming off the Segway is not good and what instincts my aged body still possesses must have helped… I remember hearing the evil little beep-beep, being tossed off then rolling and getting to my feet pretty quickly. Within a second or two. It do happen quickly.
Have a bruise on my left ribcage where I probably hit the handlebars. My neck is sore. No doubt have a low level concussion.
Not bad for an old fart, eh?
What’s the most common thing one hears before the death of a Hemmer-Hillbilly? “Watch this!”
What’s the 2nd most common thing one hears before the death of a Hemmer-Hillbilly? “I can do that too!”
Yesterday Paul and all his girls came over for breakfast with a serve of vroom. 7 and 9 yr old Nova and G.G. took the older girls for rides. Nova is a terror and scared the shit out of Leloa. Kande liked the vroom and eventually took the 250 Raptor out, and rolled it… Now these little quad-bikes are dangerous… dangerous fast and dangerously unstable. They roll very easy. And thats what Kande found out.
She was hooting along pretty quick for 1st gear only. Her first time on such a machine so Paul got her rolling with the throttle being her only control. She had yet to learn brakes or gears so, hell yes, a good time to roll the machine.
I saw her take a corner but dump the front right wheel over small embankment. Both machine and rider cartwheeled through the air. I saw a boot and the helmet fly off the rider. I watched as the quad bounced on and over her. Very much like a cartoon…
I arrived in time to see the panic fading from her eyes. She was assessing herself and finding nothing majorly wrong, The adrenaline was dumping, the fear slowly replaced by a humorous embarrassment. And a rush. A rush of “gee, dancing on the razor’s edge is fun”…
Leloa was complaining about not having a camera during the “good stuff”.
An overcast morning here. Light rains have been falling. More rains predicted… it’s floods or drought here in QLD.
Ive mentioned, complained, winged, and tied about the rains this calendar year. Part of my valley is still too wet to work. I was down by the pond last week and got stuck with the 4×4 buggy. The water-table is simply too high. The drains still have standing water in them. And we’re now in the transition from the wet season to the wetter season.
Some good news… only 5months late, we have achieved electrical upgrade here on the farm…
500kVA is huge. I’m surprised they have a pole-mounted unit so big.
Originally scheduled for May, we put the applications in 12 months ago, received approvals in February. Originally we had hoped to have the power sorted and the new facility built about the same time… boy did I get that way, way wrong!
As well, this past week…
Dont look like much but we’ve broken-dirt on the new build site.
Progress is guud…
As this day matures the temps are dropping and the weather is turning decidedly wintery. I wrap tighter in my granny-blanket. Contemplate closing a few windows. Watch the blood sports on the tube… a very nice morning to hunker down.
Another gorgeous spring morn in my valley. Almost 7am and the sun is on the valley floor. Its is a very nice, pleasing morning. The day is going to be hot. Summer is coming…
We are heading quickly towards those 4am sunrises I do enjoy so, so much… Years back, visiting QLD, I marvelled at the very noisy sunrises. Like Aussie’s in general, the birds-life here is often quite large and very often quite noisy. Very boisterous. Boisterous is a good word. Being an Aussie is very, very guud…
Elections season(s) loom large on the globe. We have a State election here in QLD this month. Of course the USofA has its big, every 4years-election coming in a month.
Aus is much more sedate about its elections. Here there is less, much less constant rhetoric and electioneering. And, here in AUS it is compulsory to vote. Yep, in a democratic land it is illegal to not vote. You shall be fined for not voting.
Very democratic in my mind…
Gracie and I do postal voting. And, yes, an ID is required.
Years back I always thought the elections were about who had control of the $$. The communal purse-strings. I now see the election is to decide who has control of the POWER, noting how much $$ is spent to get into power. The amount of $$ being spent is ridiculous. Shameful. Sinful. So the main goal has to be power, The Power!
I find it telling, important to note, imperative in many ways to watch, see, understand how the USA incumbent administration is treating the recently ravaged areas hit by Hurricane Helene. its gives us an example of who these folks running the show are. And it aint a pretty picture…
Helene cut a swath through what is very much “Red territory”…
I was reminded of something St. Barack said a number of years ago… “You go into these small towns in Pennsylvania and, like a lot of small towns in the Midwest, the jobs have been gone now for 25 years and nothing’s replaced them. And they fell through the Clinton administration, and the Bush administration, and each successive administration has said that somehow these communities are gonna regenerate and they have not. And it’s not surprising then they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy toward people who aren’t like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations.”
It makes me think of the Electoral College and how clever the Founding-Fathers of the US Constitution were. They knew that the urbanised elites would trample and politically enslave the rural constituencies, if they could. Years back I made a study of the Electoral College, originally not a supporter, I came to understand how important it is to the rural god fearing, gun owning, family oriented “yokels” that are a part of the democracy of the USofA. Here is some of my words… https://nativeiowan.com/2012/12/18/the-us-of-as-electoral-system-for-dumbassesv1-0/
I have the MLB playoffs on the tube… Mets v Phillies… I do not really watch baseball anymore. Dont know any of the players, but it strikes my fancy to see the Mets in the playoffs. Go Mets…
Big UFC on today. I like blood-sports. A big day of blood-sport always guuud.
My dogs are making noise. The wind chimes make happy sounds… time to get moving…
Today is the First of the Tenth. The beginning of the third quarter of 2024, the beginning of the last quarter of the year. My, time sure flies when you’re having fun.
It’s a chilly, bright, clear-sky morning. A light breeze tickles the leaves on the olive tree out side the kitchen. The valley is many colours of green. Verdant, thick, happy greens of every imaginable hue.
Green is a good colour.
Did you Know: Green is known to have therapeutic and positive effects, such as aiding recovery from surgery and reducing mood disturbances and perceived exertion. Its calming presence can alleviate stress and promote a sense of well-being.
Green enhances a sense of security associated with environments that satisfy basic needs like food, water, and shelter, green evokes a sense of security and abundance. It is often linked to the idea of a safe haven where one can find sustenance and protection.
Green’s calming effects are utilized in areas where people wait before appearing on television shows, helping them relax, focus, and reduce anxiety. This practice is based on the belief that green surroundings can create a serene and focused atmosphere.
Green enhances positive cognitive outcomes, such as improved memory, problem-solving, and positive thinking. For example, studies have shown that people are more likely to remember positive words written in green, and words associated with success are often linked to this color. This suggests that green can stimulate mental clarity and creativity.
Thats nice to know.
I do recall the walls at the Mental Hospital I worked at in the 1970s had green walls.
It’s a Friday, the last Friday in September. The calendar and the seasons turning a page. Here, we are heading to summer. Up North its the reverse, winter on it’s way. The leaves are turning, the days shortening. Sunrise for me is now about 6am. Within a month or so it’ll be 4am. I’m preparing for the 4am sunrise and the cacophony of birdlife waking me up too, too early.
My valley is happy. A light rainfall started very early and lasted all morning. Only now, 1030am, the sun peeping from behind the clouds. The dogs have been sedate. Happy to lie in their beds and enjoy the cool, slow morning. Just like me… Ive been sitting, wrapped up in my granny-blanket since about 5am.
A slow, soft quiet day…
My big old house is empty. Gracie has gone to the city for a weekend with friends. Gigi and Nova were picked up by their parents yesterday. After almost 2weeks of noise and confusion and mess, I get to sit quiet, soft and quiet.
The girls had 2weeks off from school and came out to enjoy the freedom of both the farm, and the old folks. Nova is 6/7, Gigi is 9/18. Both are way too smart and way too quick to show you how smart they are. I do raise good, smart pups… here we have Nia with Gigi…
On days like this I spend a lot of time watching and listening and reading and writing…
I see a big-arsed Cat4 storm running through the Gulf and onto the Florida panhandle… my old bud, Dr RW, I do hope you keep your head down. A Cat4 weather event is no joke… winds over 130mph, pushing a huge storm surge and carrying heaps of rain… the little dot, the eye of the storm, tells us how tight and heavy this system is. Hang on… Pucker Time!!!
I see that the mental illness of the USofA is alive and well… I think back to the 1970s when I was a key-carrying strong-arm at the Mental Institute outside of Independence, Iowa… https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Independence_State_Hospital
The Independence State Hospital was built in 1873 as the second asylum in the state of Iowa. It is located in Independence, Iowa. The original plan for patients was to relieve crowding from the hospital at Mount Pleasant and to hold alcoholics, geriatrics, drug addicts, mentally ill, and the criminally insane. It was built under the Kirkbride Plan. The hospital’s many names have included: The Independence Lunatic Asylum, The Independence State Asylum, The Independence Asylum for the Insane, The Iowa State Hospital for the Insane, and The Independence Mental Health Institute. There is also a labyrinth of tunnels which connect every building. Like most asylums of its time, it has had a gruesome and dark history. Remnants of this are the graveyard, hydrotherapy tubs, and lobotomy equipment.
I know the place well, having spent many hours prowling the dark, sometimes abandoned rooms and suites in the huge, sprawling facility, with its labyrinth tunnels. You talk about scary-shit… I’ve got some great stories. I worked there in 1976. My father worked there as a Therapist. I spent much of my young life hanging with my dad at the MHI, Mental Health Institute. I knew it quite well.
Most of the facility had been shut down by my time. I think there were upwards to a thousand patients, in the day. When I was there I dont think there were more than 200. The hallways and tunnels were filled with energies.
I worked 2nd-shift, 4-12. I was in high school and would get out early so I could go to work. Many of my hours at work were spent watching the patients sleep, and writing nurses notes. And… prowling the huge facility.
My job was as a “Psych-Aid”, meant I was there to assist the Psych-Nurses and Doctors.
It was a cool place to work, spend time. One key opened every door in the facility. I had 2keys… one to open and close doors, 1 to use on the “humane-restraints” that were used to tie folks down. It was an interesting job, an interesting place.
As an Aid I would get sent to different wards and on various errands where Id be free to dawdle and treasure hunt… I’d dig through closed wings and wards, searching for cool stuff… a set of great old apothecary scales… an amazing old clock… a surgical suite with cool, cool old tools and such… An amazing place. I wish I could get the keys and go back for another look.
On a good day it was an easy job. Mainly just keeping the patients calm and quiet. Only a couple wards were operating in my day… The geriatric ward was male and female. The intake wards, male and female, the chronic wards, male and female, the juvenile wards male and female. There was a seperate Childs facility but I never work there. Mostly it was a job of maintaining a copacetic quiet (not always easy) and herding the patients to the cafeteria, or to some activity.
On a bad day there would be fights and drama and trouble. I eventually got injured retraining a guy who had slit his wrists in the parking lot. I couldn’t “hurt” the patient, hit him or fight back, so as the guy was bleeding all over and kicking the shit out of me, I had to get my belt off and hog-tie his legs, and eventually get a choke hold on him. He was an ex-Nam vet with an “AirBorne” tattoo, and was a tough cookie.
One time I was taken by surprise… walked onto the admissions ward just as a guy went off… We (Hal Rowe and I) got him restrained and the nurse had us put him on a trolley and we were told to take him to the ECT theatre… Electro Convulsive Therapy…. it’s scary shit to be involved in… wrapping the guy in sheets and holding him down, careful not to touch the metal table, as the Dr pushed a million volts through his cranium. He bucked a foot or more off the table. I struggled not to puke and cry and run away. Disturbing shit.
And the work carried out at the facility for these past 150years has done little to alleviate the mass mental malfunctions I see in the US society… its sad, stupid, silly…
I think of the Phillipines… every election cycle there is mass hysteria. Folks working in Manila usually leave during election season. Like locals in New Orleans during Mardi Gras, you leave to avoid the insanity…
For those of you who know my tribe, have played and cried and had hell-raising fun with us, know how hard I work to ensure my pups, 2 and 4 legged, are Badd Asses…
It is by design, not by accident…
Our newest addition to the pack of hell raising Hounds is Andre, Angelo and Ashley’s 5month old… who got his first taste of Hemmer-Hillbilly fun…
I think Angelo was scared shitless, noting he has always been known as “driving miss daisy” when it comes to being Fast on Wheelz….
A chilly spring morning here. We had upwards to 90f temps a weeks or so ago then we slip back into 40-60f nights/ days… nice weather. No rain for a month or so… Finally getting some work done. This year has been a bitch.
All my projects pretty much a year or more behind. I’m pushing to close out a property development gig that is 15months and a million$$s over. The red tape and bullshit bureaucracy is foolish. And makes this my last such development. I am tired of the BS. Australia is a terribly confused nanny state. So much waste. I have been developing property here for 15years and am done. It’s not worth it any more. Too many ill-informed, well meaning wienies making decisions. Sad state of affairs.
In 2018 I built a “granny-flat” on my rural property. At that time the Council refused the build noting that the site proposed was only xxxmeters above sea level and “IF” sea levels rose xxxmeters we’d be under water… I’m 20miles from the coast. I’m uphill noting the stream on my property drains downhill into the Stanley River then the Brisbane River. But the shit for brains decision makers argued until I pointed out that their offices were at more risk than I was. It would have been funny if it had not been so dumb.
I’m pretty sure the shit for brains bureaucracy I speak of is alive and well in the USA, and offers one of the explanations why the East-West dialogue is so sad…
People are simply not very bright any more. Too many hours in dream states called social media? Too much emasculation of common sense? Too much conditioning? DEI hire? Too much being told what to do? Not enough learned lessons about high risk/ high reward? Too much Pussification?
From the outside looking into the USA, it do look sad and confused… 2pot shots at DJT in 2months? I wrote recently that these loony-liberal would be assassins sure aint very good with a long-arm. And the SS that “protects” the Candidates aint doing a great job. Maybe they aint trying?
One of my favourites… Reports that Canadian immigrants are eating pets in Des Moinse… We know that Iowa pussy much better than Canadian.
Cost of living is skyrocketing here. I sold a house in 2016 for 490,000.00. Last year it sold for 820,000.00. I mentioned the BS involved with building/ developing… housing here is in short supply. It’s not going to get better, soon. Only 1% of the housing market is available for rent/ sale on any given day. I know folks that simply cannot find a house. And some that cannot afford what is available.
As you know, Aus is a very laid back place and each council/ Shire (County) maintains many, well kept, well serviced public camp grounds. I have one down the road from me… There is probably 20+ camp sites there today. I pay attention and see many there for extended periods. Folks are now living in tents and campers, because they cant find/ afford housing. This is not new and is on the increase. Not a good sign.
Here in Aus I’d say that COL has increased by 30%+ since covid ended/ the Labor Govt came to power, less than 4 years. And the Govt just hands money out.
You’d think that they would know that subsidies dont work. Seldom do. Seldom will. But I just got a $1000.00 credit on my power bill. Everyone did… 10million households x 1000 = 1,000,000,000.00 in tax payer money squandered.
The Election may well be called soon, so more free-bees expected. Like the Solomons… bags of rice buy votes.
Another loony leftist, with an “indistinct political agenda”, is prepared to take a shot at DJT.
Damn!
For all the rhetoric about the red-necked-right, it sure as shit would appear as tho its the leftist loonies that are the ones unhinged enough to take pot-shots at public officials. And the ones that need shooting lessons.
And, please, all you folks out there (I know your names) that have and are and will crow about DJT getting targeted… shame on you! Shame on you for your negativity and immaturity. Shame on you for your derangement… It is never, ever ok to attempt to assassinate a political figure because you dont agree with them.
Nor is it acceptable to even playfully talk about “taking him out”, or “he deserves to be shot”, or “someone should just shoot him”… no, such rhetoric is not OK.
And all the one sided talk about how evil and divisive and bad the Orange Man is does nothing but form an environment where some poor, deranged, democrat decides he wants to be a hero, a saviour.
Im kinda pissed off with all my near and dear liberal loony friends and family that have been espousing toxic BS for almost a decade. Enough now! Cease! Desist! For all your goodness, kindness, philanthropy, christianity and humanity, it is time to remove your cranium(s) from your anus’.
Enough now!
Think before you speak. Stop listening to the poisonous rhetoric you subscribe to. Take a step away from the deranged banter and toxic rhetoric.
It is time to grow up and think for yourself.
Please
And go get some target practice… go befriend a red-neck, conservative, bubba and let him take you shoot’n…
Guns are good tools. I like my guns. I teach my grandkids to shoot. Everyone needs a lesson or two at shoot’n…
I never really learned to shoot with a scope. Never planned to do long shots, in a stable, set position.
I prefer clean sites, old iron sites. I can faithfully shoot my 50 year old .3030 Winchester (carbine) lever action @100 yards into a hand sized target. My cheap .22long bolt action, no scope, plinks cans easily @100yeards. If I brace, stabilise either gun, kneeling or prone or use a prop, I can easily shoot both guns 150yards. Easy. I shoot regularly, take my grandkids out n let them shoot. We have an established shooting range. Being on a big rural property is good… Kids need to learn about guns and motorcycles. The .410 scares them. Its very loud.
So learn to shoot. And learn to think for yourselves…
The sun is out, the air is chilled, the TV is set for a full day of Blood-Sport.
I’ll start cooking a big pot of beans, soon, preparing for whom ever may show up. I usually get a couple recalcitrant blood-sport aficionados showing up about noon, in time for the PPV main card. Today’s card will be good, worth the price of admission. I’ll see if BigG, or Mendoza show up… Probably more for my cooking than the sport, but thats OK. I’m very happy with a day full of Cage-fighting. I like my own company.
830am, the temps are 17c/63f, in the sunlight. Things are quite tranquil. The flora and fauna is soaking up the radiant heat. A light breeze stirs the air. The sky is a pastel blue, few clouds in sight, the varying hues of green, verdant, dark, blue to yellow, and more… stunning.
My valley lies outside of controlled airspace, and as such we get light, sporting aircraft over head. There are numerous small, private airstrips around us. Its common to have a low flying, light aircraft enjoy our airspace… here’s my buddy BigG’s picts of the valley from 5000ft… the farm is off the wing tip in each pict…
Wings be coool…
life has been a bit dull… weather has been cooperating so I spend most of my days simply being a farmer. My phone tells me I take over 10,000 steps a day -most of them looking for my misplaced phone- and normally spend at least half my day outside doing what needs to be done. I admit to being easily wore out, sore, slow. I wear a brace on my left knee, and a brace on my right ankle. My myriad of injuries compounded by age forces me to, finally, take some care in what I do. I dont fall, stumble, trip, or injure or re-insure myself as much as I used to. Ive never been real smart in using my body. Thus the myriad of injuries. As mamma said… getting old aint for sissies…
I live in the land of Medical Cannabis. I really, really like it… I use a couple different oils for my arthritic inflammations. I have great flower that can fill my arthritic joints with a happy feeling. I do not imbibe while I work or operate machines. Specifically for medicinal purposes… Ive got all my digits so no wood work while medicated. Machine operation takes a high level of awareness. I have rolled a big mower without the aid of medication, so am scrupulously “careful” not to be an idiot… again and again…
Here’s me under a machine a while back… had to call for help… but first thing was to snap a selfie…
A soft, blustery, overcast morning. A bit of rain blew through between 5-6am. The dogs are quiet. The air has a muted quality to it. The early morning bird-noises were impressive, but now things are quiet. I have one little fantail (willy wagtail) that sits in the back tree and annoys the shit outta me with his attempts to sound beautiful. He says the same thing time and time again. it do get annoying…
My little valley is a coooool place…
It’s 9am and I am sitting, windows open, letting the chilled breeze fill the house. Ive put the Newz/Bluez on so I can catch the lead up to the Big Debate. It’s a huge amount of BS. Its a huge amount of $$ being thrown at it all…
I use the sheer amount of dollars and cents involved, to “prove” it aint about money. Not when the cost of the campaign is in the Billions of Dollars. So it simply cant be about $$. Not if its worth spending unlimited amounts to gain control…
It has to be about power. And only about power. Who is in power, who is in control is what matters.
I know some folks out there will think dumb-shit stuff like “it’s for the common good”.
There is no common good when it comes to the rape and pillage of the public at large by the minority, by a cross-section of society.
I know some folks are out there believing that there is a scintilla of humanity, an altruism, a noble ideal within the candidate, any candidate, to do good, make things better.
Colour me sceptical.
I surf the news/bluez channels and see talking heads acting like they know something special, have something to say that will enrich my life, change my mind, help me understand and decipher all…
Its all BS.
Each talking head is a millionaire in their own right. They are selling day-old goods. They are lying, deceiving, telling us it’s caviar when it’s really dog-shit.
I am confused. And disheartened. Is the general populace so gullible, stoopid, uneducated?
Friday the 6th of the 9th. Im just waking up from a bout of the Island Flu. I got back from Honiara late Friday. Caught up and was good Saturday and Sunday. Monday was hectic, busy, all day until late in the eve. I wasn’t feeling great but had to get things done… As it went on, the day got vague, I became very much lost in a Fogg. I dont really recall much of the later day. By 8pm or so I was crashed out, running a fever, feeling very malarial.
Tuesday saw me wrapped up, moaning and groaning, body aching, head heavy, not a happy camper at all. Yesterday I was kinda good. I got a call early saying concrete work on a shed Im building was going to start. Good news, but I’m still a bit shaky. Vague. As the trucks roll in I talk to the guys and sort the work out. All is good. They know their stuff…
After I was up and moving I realised it was Thursday. Where did Wednesday go?
I had lost a day in the fog and haze of the illness.
September is here. August was a hoot… I am back in the Land of Aus, in my valley. My quick fix of LDC time/ Family fun done and I am now in recovery mode… my final submission from my time in the isles…
Started Friday 30 Aug 2024:
Island Time, jus ‘bout done.
I sit in the departure lounge at Henderson Airport. Its Friday, 30 of 08, 1254pm. My flight boards in an hour and a half. Ive come out early because a) I was told traffic would be terrible, and b) my family are all recovering from a long, long night of very heavy partying. Everyone is tired to the point to being exhausted, hungover. Tired and hung over is the theme of the day.
The party was a huge success. The food and grog flowed thick and long. I think there were an easy 200 folks, of varying sizes, shapes and ages catered to. I know that many of my tribe were on site until after 3am.
I am told that the band stopped playing and the final drops of grog got poured about the same time… 3am. Great timing to run out of lubricant as the music makers ran out of steam.
We drove out to the scene of the crime on the way to the airport. Not much activity there when I passed through. Everyone is slow, injured, infirm, damaged. My daughter, Connie, tells me that the extended tribe was still in bed at 10am. Noting well the clean up requires a huge effort… plates and silver ware and table cloths, napkins and heaps of glasses… pots n pans and all the greasy kitchen hardware that is now congealed and attracting flies.
Old line… OK to howl all night, if you’re ready to howl all day… Howling starting very late today.
It was impressive… A 40/20meter pavilion was set up, a timber floor laid, a kitchen established, power strung up and a big generator brought in. Toilets, water… where nothing was, is now a cool facility.
I always dig watching what can be done in these islands… where many hands might make light work… or maybe a promise of a party brings folks together… I am impressed with my tribe for pulling off such a fun, big, frenetic gig.
No blood was spilt… we shall try harder next time…
Traveling in the Islands is fun for many reasons, but my favourite is the before discussed fact that its common to bump into folks you know at the airports. And not just folks you know and see often, but rather, folks that you ant seen in ages and ages.
I pride myself on having a good memory. As I was checking in a man, maybe 40 years old, with greying at the temples, recognises first, Don, then flashes a huge smile and grabs my hand… from the back of my memory I hear an echo… I say “Eddie”… Golly, the skinny kid I knew working for Nick at Sullivans in the 90s stood before me. Big ass man now, but his skinny boy smile was still there.
And it was guuud.
Got through formalities and placed myself to observe the in coming and was very lucky to meet my old bud, Justin Fu’o. Justin is a good, honest, hardworking, smart, very successful business-dude from Malaita.
The tribe (the extended community) has been working for weeks to set up a venue for the coming “function”. Everything has been imported specifically for this party. They have put in a lot of work and the result is damn good…
Going to be a big doo… very big doo.
A lot of effort has gone into this.
Makes me smile.
I’ll put my glad-rags on in an hour and allow myself to herded and transported and fed and watered and entertained, All I gotta do is stay awake, not get dumb-drunk, and look hapi… life is indeed good.
I sit in Honiara. Flew in from the land of Aus, arriving about 1pm. Was up ridiculously early, (yesterday) as one does when focused on a morning flight.
The flight was seamless. Seductive even. Knowing well that becoming infatuated with the Solos is folly. It lies. Lures you in. This fight was easy, positive, let’s do that again real sooon. Then, next time, leaves you stuck in the departures area for 14hours. Welcome to the Happy Isles…
I head back for a big family party. It could be called a wedding. It could be called a family reunion. It could be call an Island Feast. It is many things and they are all guuuud.
My son, Don, picked me up at the airport. He had 2 of my Dawgs with him… Big Red, the m0nster-mouthed, slobber-puss, and petit Ms Stormy. Both great dawgs. They travel around with him daily. Where he goes they walk beside him, or they sit in the air conditioned truck. Guud Dawgs, very gud dawgs.
The ride from Henderson to Point Cruz was pretty much unrecognisable. I have not been here since February 2020. A lot of “new” has happened. Noting well that there has been two major civil unrest incidents since my last visit. A lot of what was, got burnt to the ground, and is now “new”, again.
I think we might be able to spin that into a positive???
The town is dirty and dusty. Lots and lots of people on the roads. Lots and lots of vehicles. Driving has not improved since my last visit. Neither have the roads. Nor the vehicles. Most look to be ready for the scrap heap. One old buddy (WEIII) had a line… “there aren’t any scrap yards in the Solomon’s, instead they have a taxi fleet”.
I am ensconced in a nice, nice, nice waterfront Hotel. Everything appears to work. So far. My family has provided for my needs. The room is large and we are stocked with grog and water. I am told the “kids” are going to come stay here, use the swimming pool, which works for me. I like the kids. I guess the water and snacks are for them. The grog for me. I’m cool.
I should go walk around. When we arrived, we stopped on the terrace and had coffee. There is a certain vibe these islands have. A lackadaisical posture, with a huge smile. I watched a security guard from my balcony… He is “patrolling” the back areas. Im sure he’s back here because there are less eyes on him. He moves like a true master at the art of artful sweating. He moves as if electromagetic magic floats his feet along the coral-gravel walk-way. He moves without lifting a foot from the ground. He moves gracefully but very slowly. His arms move little. I am sure he is burning very few calories. His head does a scan from left to right and up n down. He is floating on air.
When we sat down to have a coffee, a guy came up, beaming smile, and latched onto my right hand. He knows me form the past… “mi woka lo Yacht Club 12 years”… Thats when I remembered that the Island Style of hand shaking means you lose your hand for several minutes. It was good. I must admit I dont really remember “David”. He has a face I have seen and shall see again in others. Nothing makes me remember him. But it’s nice he remembers me and that gives him a buzz. Gives me a buzz too. His smile and positivity was infectious.
I shall go out soon and have a look round. Find somthing to eat.
So, as I watch standard PBS newz, let the aircon chill my shoulders, and wait for the kiddos, I shall write. Thinking tho, that as its now 617pm, my kiddos may all be otherwise occupied… It is a busy time an hang’n with Papa may not be the most attractive option this eve… They dont know I got Lindt chocolate…
Which is OK. I shall write… Discuss my experiences and emotions as I time travel. It’s a fun opportunity to be an observer in the land I called home for so many years.
Ha, I laugh… the customs agent that stamped my virginal Aussie Passport asked, “have you been here before?”, to which I say, “what year iu born, ia?”, he looks a bit shocked and says “1991”, to which I reply “Granpikinin blo mi old winnem iu.”. And it was fun. Nice to be back into the inarticulate world of Solomon Pijin.
Did I say this is my first trip as a card carrying Aussie. Ive had my Aussie gold-ticket for right on 2 years… Kinda nice – so far. I like being an Aussie….
Ok, so it’s Island Time… Im going down to the Terrace… Ive got my harraches on. A faded magenta pair of shorts, an 18yr old Tommy Bahama island print shirt, and all my ink… I like to wear my ink… I have feet, legs, arms, back, butt, neck and hands – including palms ink’d- I do tend to get noticed.
And my ink is good. High quality… It’s excellent in fact. There is a lot of ink that aint so good…. Like country and western music… there is a shit load out there that sux. My ink is top-shelf. Thanks to Tu and Ify…
I like how folks try to surreptitiously look at my ink. It’s great when kids just openly gawk. I always make a point of commenting on others’ ink. I never get a negative reaction.
I’m sitting in the Terrace Lounge at the Heritage Park Hotel. On the site that used to be the Governor General’s residence. It’s a nice place. An easy 10years old now, n still nice. Classy, in that open air, semi/ always decaying humid n muggy tropical terrace kinda way. I like it.
Many ceiling fans agitate the air. A big screen TV on the wall purveys some form of information/ rhetoric/ propaganda disguised as newz. Im trying to figure out what channel it is… looks like the BBC. Or ABC…
A table of 4, drinking, happy, Solomon women are leaving. It’s a big ordeal. I assume them to be reasonably high government functionaries, having a drink after some big meeting. They are happy, polite, vocal, loud, and cannot find their flip flops. It’s a nice bit of comedic relief.
There are a few gringos around… the place is by no means busy. I have spoke to Eve, who got me my first beer, and Ivory, who got me my second. Grace took my dinner of fish n chips away. Fish n chips in the Solos…. Steak in Iowa… not the other way around…
The fish n kumari chips are the best meal on the menu…
The little red chillies are not green capsicum… they are hot, hot, hot… very nice…
It is sedate where I sit… low and slow music in the background, muted strings and the slow shuffle of conscientious staff. The sound of wind and surf in the near distance. The whirrr of the fans.
The staff here are well trained. And there be a bunch of them.
I just talked with Ivory. She asked my name – speaking pidgin – I told her, and she launched into a tale of her brother, Mike, who is a very difficult guy… “hem drink, hem smoke marijuana, hem make mommy and daddy no happy”.. I laughed with her saying the name Mike is a curse. It was a fun laugh. She’s not afraid of me any more.
Most folks are kinda put off by me… I walk tall, smile a lot, am an illustrated man, talking loud, and generally take control of my space quite effectively. What’s not to like?
The islands can be good and gentle… or viciously ruthless. No middle ground – or not much. The Isles respect Strength, and trample weakness to Death. And openly gawk at my ink.
But the Isles be so, so fun loving and playful and island-like that a painted man with a funny accent that speaks fluent pidgin does get good service. I like it. It is entertaining.
And it makes me smile…
A fine layer of coral based, lime-stone, talcum-like dust permeates. In some places it’s thick. Pervasive. But where I am, it’s a well kept secret. Numerous uniformed staff do their duties constantly. It’s a 24/7 sorta place. I am impressed how well and openly the staff engage. But then, this is the Hapi Isles… The premises around the hotel look great.
1027 pm… 927 aussie time. Im going to shower and sleep. Been up since 330.
In de islands, mon, you must learn to treat sweating as an art form. You do heaps of sweating so must be done tastefully, artistically…
I sit in a down-town Hotel, The heritage Park. This where the old GG’s residence was. It’s a sprawling complex with many uniformed staff. Due to my family a) having a full house, and b) not really liking me much, I get quite a nice serviced apartment. I guess they dont want me up at the house… which is indeed full.
The flight was good. My son, Don, and his dawg, Big Red, picked me up.Gracie was at the Otel having fish and chips, so we joined her and I had. a couple Solbrews…\
The Native Iowan 
thoughts and opinions