Landscapes - My Garden, the Political and my Mind

Hello Greenthumbs,

Apologies as it has been a while since I last put pen to paper or, more accurately, finger to keyboard.

I had a rough time of it the first week of the second cycle but since then have been travelling rather well, if chronically tired. However, given the incredibly cold starts to these winter days, I probably garner more jealousy than sympathy, as I stay snuggled up in my toasty warm bed, as you my hard working proletariat, head off into the chilly mornings to earn your princely sums.

On the eighth day post chemo I was feeling well enough to head out into the garden and tackle some weeding and light pruning. We have only a small front yard but given my penchant for cottage gardens and flowering perennials, it is a labour intensive garden that needs regular tending. As with gardens of this type, in winter it looks like a bunch of dead sticks strategically planted around the garden - something of which Morticia Addams would be extremely proud. But I like this time as it allows you to see the bones and structure of the garden and plan accordingly for beautiful blooms come spring.

In the blink of an eye, three hours passed and I had only weeded and pruned but had filled the green bin to the max. A generous sprinkle of Sulphate of Potash and a light watering and I was ready to tackle the Mop Tops with Tony the next day. As you may not be able to tell from the photos below, these lovely trees develop into huge lush rounded heads come spring but they need regular pruning to keep them the size and shape in proportion to the house that I want. My towering height makes this a problem so I call on my dear (and much taller friend) Tony, to help me out.

With the ladder and nifty hedge trimmers in hand Tony makes light work of it as I cleared and bagged the prunings, planted foxgloves, delphiniums, hollyhocks, poppies and granny bonnets in every available space across the garden. Robyn T, your mother's fuschia, lillies, cyclamens and japanese anenomes are all flourishing here in down town Thornbury!!! All done in two hours and I drop Tony off as Siobhan and I have a hot lunch date with a gorgeous doctor. We will need to make a trip up to the hills in the next two weeks  to get two more white hydrangeas and two more rose bushes, but then it will be ready for spring. The only task remaining is for the next day ( a job of about three hours) - a thorough weeding of the nature strip (ours and our next door neighbour's that I have offered to look after for him) - Entirely selfish on my part as it allows me to extend my plantings beyond our legal boundary!!!! 

As you can tell from the pic, I dont give a toss what I look like when gardening!!!!

For those of you that don't enjoy gardening or see it as a chore, you probably wont understand how exhilarated I felt to be out there on those three consecutive days. It was a glorious Melbourne winter's day each day with bright sunshine and clear crisp air. I was doing one of the things that I genuinely love, without difficulty, without pain and with great physical capability. I was truly euphoric.

In the words of Mariel Heslop, 

"Now my life is as good as an ABBA song!" 

So with the garden all sorted and well primed with a sense of achievement, Siobhan and I head to a lovely restaurant in North Carlton called Enoteca Sileno. There, we meet a former colleague, the good Dr Colin, fresh from his regular weekly Italian class, to enjoy a meal, a goss and a vino. 

Now, Dr Colin is many things, - an engaging raconteur, an absolute font of knowledge on topics of the most obscure nature and origin, so as an entertaining dinner companion he is hard to beat, provided you can keep him focused long enough to impart the totality of said story.....but most of all he is just a lovely man who single handedly uptipped my very jaundiced opinions of doctors on its head. 

Upon his arrival he sought to impress all within hearing distance, by his command of his very recently exercised Italian linguistic muscle. Food and beverage (from the wonderful region of Friuli) was ordered and a lively exchange of Italian linguistic gymnastics between the good doctor  and waiter ensued. 

Momentarily distracted by my desire to rid myself of my "going out hair", Colin placed my wig on his own head and without missing a beat the same waiter walked past, complimented Colin on the style but thought the colour was not "very him" .....................you be the judge....... It was a delightful lunch and even more delightful company....

In the days that followed, I watched with great sadness as Julia Gillard  was deposed from the Australian Prime Ministership by a parliamentary ALP spill.  Now if you are going to sigh and think to yourself "get over it girl and move on" its happened, or worse....... "is she going to launch into some angry feminist, gender card playing rave"....first ask yourself, why are you having that reaction to what you anticipate is my anger?

I am angry because with the benefit of two weeks now into the post Kevin Rudd elevation wash-up, where is the commentary about the size of his dick, or whether his wife is a closet lesbian, or that the aspiring opposition leader's budgie smuggler's, (as well as his policies)  are lacking in content and substance?  

Nothing. 

The media is now robustly and meaningfuly focused in policy differences between the parties and the blokes leading them (now that the natural order is restored!!) It was only two weeks ago that they were unable to muster that focus yet the same issues were there then. I am despondent that my country is filled with a population that tolerates this sort of misogyny masquerading as news and current affairs, or worse that we are so loathing or terrified of women that we cannot bear them to be in any genuine or real position of power. 

It would seem that when it comes to women in power, we are more inclined to play the man (or in this case, the woman,) rather than the ball. I am so disappointed that we are so immature. I have no doubt that Gillard's legacy will grow in stature in ensuing months and years. I also have no doubt that it will be years before any ALP woman is allowed to put up her hand again. (and yes, I realise the absolute sexism of that statement)  I for one, will not be voting ALP until Rudd and each and everyone of his current supporter base has left the Federal Parliament.  

A friend once said to me.....they may be bastards, but at least they are our bastards..........

Not anymore they ain't.

It's an interesting political day indeed when Senator Stephen Conroy becomes the ALP's moral beacon for loyalty and principle.

Vote early  & Vote often Peoples

Kelly xxx