Bye bye mermaid

Tonight, after two years of procrastination, I painted over the tattoo-shop mural of pneumatic mermaid and leering sea creatures that the previous tenants painted in my tiny hall. I'd come up with lots of possibilities for preserving her without having to actually look at her everyday; and every visitor suggested more. Maybe I should have gone with the fake-wall-with-mermaid-viewing-doors idea. I was also partial to the idea of running a pin-the-bra-on-the-mermaid competition in perpetuity, or painting in a sign that said 'Big Girls must wear Tops' in honour of the infamous sheet metal directive that graced Wilcannia swimming pool for years.

The final straw was the discovery that her flesh tones were the underlying wall colour (oil) and everything else was painted on top with very water soluble acrylics. So water soluble that when I wiped my first pass of a sugar-soaped rag over her, the seaweed smeared into the parrot fish, and grey nurse shark skin dripped everywhere.

Further evidence that that part of the house hadn't been washed for...seven years? Longer.

Anyway, it's done. She's gone.
Do I feel like a cultural vandal?
Not yet.

Colossal catch

This Colossal Squid was brought to the surface by Kiwi fishers out longlining for Toothfish.

The species was first contemplated in 1925, on the evidence of two tentacles found in a sperm whale's stomach. Since then there have been only a few sightings.

On the one hand, I'm excited, on the other saddened by the great creature being dragged to the surface. Prior to its capture, knowledge that the Colossal was there, but little known, was reassuring evidence that the sea is one of the few places left that remain dark, mysterious and truly confronting. Humans need a few places like that to keep us honest.

Old favourite dies

Elizabeth Jolley escaped mortality on February 13, but fittingly, rumours of her death were greatly understated.

For years, Jolley 'would write down her observations on scraps of paper and bury them in drawers', cobbling them into short stories and novels that started getting published when she was 53.

Asked whether she was concerned about the recognition gap, she noted:

I was writing for many years before my work was acceptable because I was writing about things that were not acceptable in Australia, in literature.

And things have changed a lot. The climate of acceptance has changed a lot, and that has been very fortunate for me.

Jolley impressed and delighted me, occasionally annoyed me, contributed to keeping me alive during some seriously bleak times. I read a lot of her stories aloud, to friends, or to myself. In my favourite tale, a typically droll and canny Jolley character takes out a lease on some rural land on the condition that she can plant one crop and see it through to harvest. She plants Jarrah.

Too much detail

If Australia falls for the shonky doublespeak that casts nuclear energy as not only safe but beneficial, we will be seeing more of this sign.

Personally, I prefer the simplicity of the trefoil by itself, but the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) and the International Organization for Standardization (ISO), who released the new symbol this week, claim that the big black fan (originally magenta) on a yellow background is insufficiently understood, having:

...no intuitive meaning and little recognition beyond those educated in its significance

Educate someone about a stark and simple form that can be recognised from a distance, or bombard them with clutter and use up time that could have been better spent running. Pretty clearcut to me what the preferred option is.

But hell, I'm such a symbol geek that I immediately recognise this. Probably should go and stencil it on the cathouse straight away, given its meaning is so intuitive and all, so the stream of curious passers-by that have taken to strolling down our street over the last couple of days appreciate the extent of the biohazard that they are exposing themselves to.

neighbours

Someone in my street got done today for cat hoarding.
One little cottage like mine -- two people -- eighty cats.
RSPCA and police came about 10 o'clock. It made the WIN news. That's all I know.
Update: I have full accounts of the rescue now from several neighbours; that's kind of sweet. It also made the Canberra Times:

RSPCA workers said they felt upset and nauseous after rescuing 49 cats from a Queanbeyan house yesterday. The RSPCA plans to prosecute the cats' owner, a middle-aged man, on animal cruelty charges.

It was the biggest animal seizure in the RSPCA's 55-year history in the region and there are up to 30 more cats still hiding in the house and garden at xxxx Street.

The RSPCA's manager of shelter services for the ACT, Lorraine Hamilton, was one of the first people to enter the house yesterday.

"It was a horrendous situation as we opened the door," she said...

Mrs Hamilton said there appeared to be no way for the cats to leave the house and there were piles of faeces 20cm deep. Mrs Hamilton said she did not see any food left out for the cats, who were sitting on shelves and under chairs due to a lack of space. Some of the cats had ringworm, cat flu or feline AIDS (feline immunodeficiency virus) and would have to be euthanased, she said...

RSPCA ACT chief executive Michael Linke said the cats were discovered when their owner was evicted from his house on Thursday night for defaulting on his mortgage payments.

It is believed the man lived in the house with his female partner.

The man will be interviewed by police over the next few days and might be charged with animal cruelty offences, which carry a maximum penalty of five years' jail or a $55,000 fine. Neighbours said they had no idea there were so many cats in the modest two-bedroom home.

An xxxx Street resident, who did not want to be named, said she thought there were only six cats in the house. There was a strong cat smell when passing by the house.

I feel nauseous / guilty, as you do, for not being more attuned to it.

Meanwhile, a cat who is nourished, supported, and given the respect that allows her to explore the interface between felinity and human-ness (without a lounge-room knee deep in catshit impeding her investigations) has taught herself to do this:



Go, Nora!

Moths drink the tears of sleeping birds

Link here

Feet itch, spirits call

I'm considering a flying trip here, to Sai Kung, in the near future. Here is an account of the unruly white stone horse of Che Kung, who had to be buried and covered with incense to restore order.

Everything is OK because there is cricket

On Day 5 of the Second Ashes Test, when England were desperate to keep the run-rate down, Kevin Pietersen chucked a wild one that missed the stumps, adding 4 overthrows to Langer's 3 score- for a total of 7 runs off one ball.

It didn't attract much comment, but it made me curious about historical one-ball high scores, so off to virtual Wisden. The highest I have found so far is 17 runs off one ball.

Deepak Shah explains on All Experts:

Normally maximum runs scored off one ball is 6. It could be more, if you are allowed by the fielding side to run more runs (I have scored 8 in a college game in Ahmedabad, India in 1972). However, under these circumstances (like the ball gets lost within the field as it happened in my game due to tall grass) the fielding side can declare "Lost Ball" and I think batting side and the batsman (if the ball is hit) will get 6 runs plus all that he has run. However, the question of 17 runs off one ball can be explained as follows:

If the bowler bowls more than one illegitimate delivery (no balls) before a legitimate ball is bowled, all the runs scored COLLECTIVELY, will count in the score book towards one ball. e.g. a bowler bowls 3 no balls and is hit for all fours (12 + 3 =15 runs). Next ball is legitimate and he concedes 2 runs. In the score book that goes as 17 off one LEGITIMATE delivery.

This happened in the first ODI between India-Pakistan in March 2004 at Karachi. Pakistani bowler Rana Naved-Ul-Hasan conceded 24 runs in his first over with 4 no balls. I think he bowled 3 or all 4 no balls consequtively and ended up with 17 off one ball.

Invitation

My new workmate has one of these in her garden, and I am very envious.

I used to see the Eastern Bluetongue, Tiliqua scincoides scincoides, in every backyard, and in some peoples' loungerooms. Haven't seen one for a couple of years now.

When I weed my garden, I leave the dandelions, I plant strawberries, I provide rocky outcrops. I am now thinking of making a little crib cuddy for them out of rocks and rotting timber in the middle of my Brachyscome (daisy) patch.

C'mon, little bluetongues, come and live with us!

The big falla visits

One of my nephews is a fettler. His job has taken him out west for a while, and he stayed with me on the weekend, bringing good humour and some finely observed tales of country towns and life on the rails.

After he left, I had a look at the website of the Harden Shire Council. Every town likes to think it's lovely, and the site proudly boasts:

We would like to welcome visitors to the glorious Harden Shire, one of the most picturesque areas within the State. The region is notable for its scenic beauty - particularly during the spring when a wide variety of grain crops are in bloom. Combined with the green pastures and rolling hills, they provide a magnificent kaleidoscope of colour.

Not at the moment though, I guess. They desperately need rain.

On a page called About the council there are 3 short paragraphs. The first describes how the inaugural meeting of the Harden Shire Council took place in 1974. Then this:

The amalgamation of the Murrumburrah Municipal Council and the Shire of Demondrille was a marriage of convenience entered into to avoid an arrangement imposed by the New South Wales Govenment and repugnant to ratepayers.

They've clearly got long memories in Harden-Murrumburrah.