Chronicles of Frodo (Left in a Quandary)

It was only days ago that I was hungry, cold, weak and living in a storm water drain, I didn’t even have a name. My world was about hiding in pipes and waiting to see if my mummy would get me out of there. I would see her; Dad and my brothers and sisters looking at me form the top of the drain. I think I must have done something to upset them because they keep hitting me.

My world changed in the last few days when some two legged giants entered my drain. (they were scary). So I hid in a pipe in the wall of the drain hoping they would go away. It was going to rain, I could smell the water in the air and the sky was black so at least I would be dry. I could hear the giants doing things and shining lights into my pipe so I went in further, (they couldn’t reach me in here).

Later it was quiet and I could smell food and mummy appeared. The giants left something behind with some food inside (silly humans) so after mummy had got some for my brothers and sisters and herself I thought I should get some. That is where everything changed for me. The thing I was in must have been broken because when I went into it to get the food; it shut, trapping me inside it. One of the giants must have remembered where he left his food because he came back into the drain to get it. (I was very scared now because I couldn’t get out)

He took me to a place where there were other giants and they seemed to fuss over me a lot. Then back to the big cave next to my drain where he has keep me and fed me. He has given me my own pipe to sleep in, but this one is clean and warm. I am feeling a lot better can see out of my right eye again. The fleas that I had are gone and the giant that took me out of the drain fusses over me a lot. He gave me a name, he calls me Frodo, and I like it. I don’t know what is going to happen to me next but for now I am quite content.

How Far Would You Go For A Little Pussy?

After coming home and blogging about the thoughts of the year, I had slept very little due to the events that the night unfolded. I went outside and looked down the storm water drain close by and noticed a small kitten. I was too small to climb out and there were no other exits for the storm water pipes that entered the main canal. What ensued was a bureaucratic nightmare as a storm was coming and I know how quickly the canal floods.

I called the animal protection agency (RSPCA) and was told that because the cat was a stray it would not attend but I could try the State Emergency Services (SES) or Fire Brigade. I was going to see if I could do it legally myself by calling the water authority so that I could be allowed to enter the canal with an animal trap. I also called the local hire company to see if they had one and to keep one aside so I had a back up plan. There was a storm coming and it was starting to rain already, this kitten was going to drown.

After explaining to the Water Authority what I was proposing, I was given a stern warning that if I entered the canal that I was legally trespassing and that I would be fined if court. The Fire Brigade gave me the same answer as the RSPCA and the SES told me that I should ring Ambulance Rescue. I tried to find a number to the local Ambulance station by not ringing the emergency number only to be given a mobile phone number to a lady who had no idea what I was talking about. It was starting to rain heavier and I knew it would not be long before it started to fill the canal. In desperation I called the emergency number only to be told that a cat is not an emergency but put me through to the local station. I would have saved more time if I had driven there but would have lost sight of the kitten if I did.

The rain stopped, thankfully, and the Ambulance Rescue arrived. The kitten hid in a water pipe on the side of the canal and we could not get it out. So we did the next best thing and lashed a few fence palings together to give it an exit to climb up. They left as there was nothing more they could do without trying to flush the cat out but the fire brigade was not interested in coming at this stage.

It started to spit again and looking like it was going to get heavier. I jumped into my car and went and got the animal trap. I got some chicken out of the fridge and jumped into the canal myself. I got a piece of rope and lashed it form a fence at the top of the canal to the cage as I didn’t want it to was away if it did start to flood and set and baited it. I could still see the kitten in the water pipe that it had previously retreated too. The RSPCA then turned up and I thought they were the water authority coming to fine me. They said that there had been a miss communication as the girl who took my call was new and they did attend strays if they were in danger. He saw what I had done and I was to call them if my attempts had not worked in 24 hours and left.

Then I waited with a pair of binoculars watching as the local wild Tom and Tammy returned with the rest of their litter. Looking at the other two kittens it was easy to see that he was the runt. The appearance or the Tammy drew the little kitten form its hiding place. She sniffed the chicken and I prayed I would not trap it as the kitten in question would never enter it after. Carefully the Tammy removed the chicken without touching the trigger platform and took a swipe at the runt and jumped up to feed the rest of her litter watching her. She went back for another slice of chicken and ate it next to the cage. The runt then went to get some for it while the Tammy was busy and sprung the trap.

I enlisted the aid of two women out on a power walk to help me lift the cage out of the canal. I removed the kitten for the trap and wrapped him in a towel and drove to give him a vet check and possably surrender him to them.

I have named the Kitten Frodo and he is still not out of the woods yet. He is still in my care as he will be put down if I surrender him to the RSPCA or the local council as they have too many cats at the moment. He is malnourished and very underweight for his age. He is asleep now snuggled next to a hot water bottle quite content after his feed. I have to wait till I have him to 1 kg before the animal shelter will take him for sale.

After blogging about the failures of 2007, this could be a sign of change.

2007 a Calamity of Failures

Due to recent circumstances the previous two blogs were more venting than actually commenting on child welfare. I have no experience in the field and was recently presented with a situation that drew me back to deal with matters I had long since thought were in a state of statuesque. I do not usually put personal stuff into my blogging but the Father Riley interview happened close to the time of said events and made me think, if this man is exasperated at his inability, then what chance do I have with what I was presented with.

I will not go into details but suffice to say it did involve child welfare. The result of which, saw me having to conduct myself in a way that I have not had too for such a long time. I had to revisit people and use old skills that I really do not want anymore. These skills make you live in a constant state of paranoia and show you things that you are really better off not knowing.

2007 was a destructive year for me. So this year I am breaking free again and trying to look for the harmony I found at the end of 2006. I was a person that saw positives in nearly everything then and am finding it hard to find them in the events of 2007. To its credit, it did put me in a position that saw me grow as a person, find a retreat, and gave me a long forgotten drive I once so enjoyed.

2007 was a calamity of failures and I am taking time to recognize them. 2008 has begun as a wash up year that sees me as a cleaning maid to events in 2007. As I awake form a horrible night I find that one job is done with so much more to do.

“Chipping at an Iceberg with a Fork”

I am taking the points given form the comments form my last post, which lead to the discussion on certain aspects. I will admit that I tried to cover a broad rang of topics, while trying to express my reaction to a fifteen minute radio interview. With that, I concede that each point is a topic within its own right and I really just glossed over them. I thank the thoughtful comments, By Kate and Devil’s advocate, for pointing out that my passions on the agreement at hand, could be clouding my representation of the situation.

To that end I will address one topic which I quoted in my title. Subsequent conversations, on what I had written, exposed a though by Kate, who works in the field of child welfare. She said, “It’s like chipping away at an iceberg with a fork” (in reference to her experiences in welfare). I have seen first hand, the mental and physical drain on people who undertake this noble work. I think, to that end, that I am justified in saying that if that is the case then you have to start chipping and keep chipping at some point. I was not suggesting that banning alcoholic adverting or mediation is a cure, other, it is a point worthy of consideration. I am under no illusions that the topic has a “quick fix” but , if I may refer to Father Riley, find that if an impassioned plea is given to someone that has worked in this field for so long, isn’t it something worthy of consideration? Isn’t experience worth more than hypothesizing? I will agree that that is a separate topic within itself.

Back to the situation at hand, I feel that there are similarities between a welfare worker and a mechanic. If a mechanic is presented with a vehicle, they will toil to do the best they can to repair a car with the resources available to them. When the car leaves their care, no matter what advice is given to the owner, some will return with the same afflictions due to the way the car is treated by the owner. The mechanic is then repairing the same faults that could have been averted if their advice was adhered to; it then becomes a frustrating and repetitive process for the owner and the mechanic. If equated to child welfare, once a worker has done what they can, with the resources available to them, who is responsible for any subsequent improvement? I was once told, “The best administrator for your own affairs is you!” If I can use that in relation to my slimily, If the owner of a vehicle doesn’t take responsibility for it, how good can a mechanic actually be? In the same way, if the guardians of a child, if they have any, don’t take due care, what help can a welfare worker give? If the “client” is older and don’t take responsibility for their own actions, the same applies. “Action and consequence” is again another topic.

I cannot give any solutions to the welfare question as I do not work in the field. I can only offer my opinion and, hopefully, productive and healthy debate on the issue.

The Devil that Brought Down a Saint

For those of you that don’t know this man, he is Father Chris Riley. He, in my opinion, is the closest thing to a living saint. For over thirty years this man has devoted his life to improving what society would call “Youth Rejects”. His successes in this field have been too numerous to mention. He runs last chance missions to get youth to be productive members of society. Those who the traditional institutions have given up on as “lost causes”. So imagine my surprise to hear this man in utter anguish over a situation that he felt was out of his hands.

In the eves there seems to be a demon that is undercutting his efforts to provide under privileged children a quality existence. For anyone who has met Father Riley, you would know that he is not one to become upset easily. Though he is a Catholic priest, he is not standing on religious rhetoric to advance his cause but his, before mentioned, thirty years of experience in dealing with said children.

Who is this demon you may ask? The commercial, advertising giants, for alcoholic products and how, even though they deny it, their deliberate targeting of youths. Father Riley, recounted in anger, how he personally knows of girls as young as eleven that would sell themselves for “a couple of cans of bear”. He recounted how one father that, that he knew of. “sold his eight year old daughter” for the same amount. Father Riley said that he could not call this prostitution but a deliberate act of child abuse, that there are paces where this was known and an accepted activity.

Father Riley is a reasonable man and is not calling for the abolishment of alcohol, he is protesting about the blaintent targeting of youth by the marketing of such products as “Fairy Dust” and the timing to when these products are advertised such as with sporting activates and the like. But his call for moderation and responsibility seem to be falling on a deaf demon too interested in profit than the impact they are having on youth. You would think that a man and his team that have worked with “hopeless causes” would be in the prime position to be heard. Especially given the amount of time he has spent and his devotion to Australian youth, not to mention his successes in this field.

If none of this stirs you in the same way it has me, then you have my pity and disgust. There is no call, what so ever, to make youth a demographic to the alcohol industry. If a man with thirty years experience in the field of youth welfare can’t sway the demon they spare a thought for the youths and what they will subject themselves to for another alcoholic fix.

Food of the Gods

There was a B grade movie I saw when I was a kid about a storm that uncovers an ooze form the ground that was eaten by vermin and made them grow into giants. So the bulk of the movie was about these giant rats going around eating everything. Then a storm happened to hit my town and I was made to feel that life was imitating art.

I am not normally one that eats a lot of fast food but my dinner preparations were halted by a storm and subsequent blackout. There in a dark house and with hungry people I went out to try and find something for them to eat. It seemed that the only thing around was the fast food places. Why is it that such place’s have backup generators as if prepared for such eventuation’s? It was like the ooze form the movie being uncovered by the storm.

So I decided that this would be one of the rare occasions that I would have this food. It was to be nothing more than a “stomach filler” till such time the power was restored and I could continue to cook my own meals. So I look my place in line behind two young girls that were already at the counter. Like most young people they were taking their time deciding what it was they wanted. But then the group in front of me grew. First they were joined by another young person and then tree more entered with what seemed to be two minders. Now the first two had the money to pay for their order, the subsequent group just jumped the line and stood in front of me with no regard for the line that was behind me. The other youths had the normal indecision but put their orders through to the girl serving at the counter. Just when you thought the ordering was done and the line could move on, the minders ordered. This held up the poor girl at the counter even more and while the queue behind me grew.

It was at this point another register opened and being next in line I got served. I had been waiting in line for nearly twenty five minutes now so I knew what I wanted to order in reality I knew only seconds after reading the menus. A simple order given and off the girl went to fill it. These two minders grew irate at the fact that my order seemed to be being filled faster than theirs. It was not that the case that they were chopping and changing their order and conferring with each other on what would be the healthier choices to make, it was not the fact that they had ordered custom menu options that had to be made or procrastinating over which diet drink was to accompany their meal. I had been whole heartedly been transported into that “B” grade movie I mentioned. I had found the giant rats.

With venom they started to abuse the girl that was serving me, stating that they were there “first” and that their order had not been received yet. If they had only bothered to look beyond the first row of bay marries they would have seen their order being made. But not satisfied that they were still waiting, or that their order was more like calculus to fill, they had the gall to say that they were there “first”. Full of their own self importance they started to abuse the girl serving me, and the poor girl could only say in her defense that she didn’t take their order and was working on mine.

It was at this point that I had had enough. In the movie the rats finally get destroyed by the characters in the film destroying a dam and drowning them. These two “Rats” had just destroyed the dam of patients and unleashed a torrent of verbal Karma. I spoke up:

“Fist of all you were not here first, I was. You jumped the queue without any regard to who else was standing in line. You ordered custom items that you took ages to decide on only making us wait longer to be served. If you bothered to open your eyes you can see your order being made by the girl that served you in the back. Now because I made a simple order and it is being filled by someone else you want to attack her because your majesties are not being served to your satisfaction. Grow up, get over yourselves and your petty self importance”.

To Our Glorious Dead

On the same ground as the cenotaph, in the middle of the city of Sydney, the powers to be erect the city Christmas tree every year. Now with all the recent attacks on Christmas I find myself looking at two monuments that seem to conflict, or do they? Just meters away from each other, you are looking at a monument to those who have died in conflict while the other, supposedly, to remind us to live in hope of peace on earth and good will to men.




Then the thought hits me that these are two monuments to traditions that are under attack. On the 25th of April, Australia celebrates ANZAC day. Minority groups and pacifists attack this day as a tribute to war. They think it an irony that we celebrate a military disaster and the senseless loss of life. Not that to all serviceman that this is a day to remember those who are no longer with us, men and women they may have served with in action or not. That this day, this ground and monument, is most probably the most sacred testament to their devotion to each other and to their country, regardless of the religious affiliations, they come to honor each other and to the hope that never again will we engage in such hatred again.



Minority groups again attack Christmas. In recent years, shopping malls have been under attack for playing Christmas carols in shopping centers, Santa is under attack for his traditional “Ho, Ho, Ho” and recently not allowed to Christmas parties as he may offend some religious groups. So the placing of the Cities Christmas tree on the same ground now holds the same significance as an Australian tradition under attack now seems so relevant. When you take into significance the real-estate that they occupy in Martin Place tradition and history were made here. This is the place that all distances from Sydney were once measured, it was the place that our countries first Prime Minister, Edmund Barton, was sworn in and being such a young country, traditions are something that we have too few of.

It has to be remembered that this country was first settled by Christians, and with them they brought the tradition of Christmas. If you take the religious significance out of the event, to hold one day a year where we bestow good will to all men, then the name of the day is insignificant to the bigger picture. It is that wish that will avoid such monuments such as more cenotaphs and war memorials. It is such a little ask to hold the spirit of something and to celebrate it with the significance that you want to bestow it.