Dave Freer's Tree

(cross posted from the Bar for anyone who doesn't go there and doesnt follow Flinders family Freer)

Writing is at what I hope will be a very temporary standstill. The movers
arrive on Monday to pack our goods and chattels and of course the family
rock ( http://flindersfreer.blogspot.com/2009/11/rock-part-1.html )

Also on monday the people from Pets-en-transit are due to collect Roly (the
Old English Sheepdog, with the infamous black nose) Pugsley and Wednesday
(the Lab x dubious travelling salesman - Puggles is big, blond, thick,
good-natured, and Wensie is the evil over-lady) and 3 of the cats en route to Quarantine and then Australia. James has decided he wants his cat, Legolas (big tabby, possible problem with AQIS as he looks suspiciously like an African Wildcat) to stay here with the friends he will spend his short holidays with. They're good people, it's a similar environment and he will be spoiled, but it is still sad for us. The other three, Batman, his sister Robin (brave, brave Sir Robin) and La Duchesse also go to quarantine, to fly out later. I am forever grateful to Walt who helped me to make the decision to do this, and Francis who put together the site and has run things at http://www.savethedragons.nu/ - which has made the difference between an impossible ask and a mere steep hill. Thank you so much to everyone who has helped and supported us (when we get to the end of Save the Dragons I'll send off thank you letters and a status report on the beasties and selling the book). We're still a bit short, but I now believe we'll make it, somehow. We haven't come this far to give up, and some of the money is only due later...(better sell more books ;-)). I am of course worried about them in quarantine, but they are going to be in together in SA (the long part) and then it's just the last bit... We'll miss them, but the alternative was putting them down, as they are difficult to re-home. Anyway... net access will be erratic , but we'll try and keep posting on the family blog.

http://labs.timesonline.co.uk/blog/2009/11/12/do-music-artists-do-better-in-a-world-with-illegal-file-sharing/

I have often wondered just who the copyright protectors were trying to protect. After all the creators of the original material do recieve the smallest share. If the other sectors were really looking after our interests, not theirs, wouldn't the easy answer be just to give a bigger share to the creators?

We raise a glass to the living and our dead.

We've been clearing the backlog of stuff for the move. masses of old photographs. Men and women in uniform... 4 wars worth. I daresay there'll be some plonker out there who'll say they were imperial wars... But the world you might have had without their sacrifice was not a very pleasant one. And the little districts in little far off countries gave more - by ratio - than the great powers did.

I stood at little memorial in the back of beyond in New Zealand. Beautifully kept... maybe 20 names in two wars. The same surnames repeated... In a sparsely populated area like that it must have seemed all their dreams gone to dust and ashes. And yet in the second World War those families sent more sons...

Here too. (And while it was English speakers who responded heavily, there were many Afrikaans volunteers too - my mother. There were Zulu volunteers who died heroically on the Mendi.) Yet, today the TV announcer in SA do not wear poppies (we do) and there are no headlines of rememberance services. The memorials grow weeds in many places.

Yet we will remember them, and the sun shall never set on them.

Salute.

http://www.news24.com/Content/Africa/News/965/0eacbed15c5e4324803a578d676cf315/06-11-2009-10-06/Somali_rebels_issue_aid_rules

These people need help. I prescribe a lead injection between the eyes. (serverely affronted by this. People are starving, sick and all these arse-wipes can do is... set conditions to them being helped. They are a source of enduring shame to themselves, their so-called 'religion' and the human race.)

Beggars cannot be choosers.

www.NewNewForum.com

if you have any bright ideas you want to talk about. It's run Dr Andrew Burt the founder of Critters.org as a reaction to his experience with old-boys club sites.

http://savethedragons.nu has a write up there.

Because crabs don't often escape from traps: "Self-made ghettoes are hard to get out of."

Sir Terry Pratchett (interveiw -http://www.newscientist.com/article/mg20427326.000-terry-pratchett-fighting-to-keep-the-fantasy-alive.html )

The man is a genius. I'd have made him a bleedin' Emperor, not a mere Knight. That so describes so much of SA's situation. This ought to be one the richest countries on earth with the lowest GINI co--efficient, and the most wonderful vibrant human rights culture. It had every ounce of the potential. But the crabs climbed into the bucket after the smelly bait-remains and now they can't get out and are ripping each other apart.

Tired and stressed out, Proofs for Sorceress of Karress are in, waiting on new quotes for quarantine and transport of the dogs and cats. If you haven't got around to supporting http://www.savethedragons.nu/ and can and want to... now would be a good time. B has a sore eye from getting a stick in it. We're a bit in the wars... http://flindersfreer.blogspot.com/ for the expanded version.

Worrying about the kids too of course - it's exams coming and they've had a bit of torrid time, with their Gran (who seemed I think as eternal as rock and unchanging) and with parents and their old way of life suddenly uprooted. Pads has a great foundation so I hope he's OK. James... I'm still scared that he thinks he's too clever to have to work (and so far his marks do not indicate the truth of this). He hasn't got a lot of leeway in a couple of subjects - and he really is bright enough to pull firsts, not have the old man worrying about him passing. I guess I just loved the stimulus of uni too much not to work very hard, and I was married and had worked at deadly boring stuff. So the distractions were less, and the alternatives known and stark.

Ah well. I follow the ancient worrier way.

A piece I read this morning brought up the whole sexual stereotyping thing in my mind again. Back when my older boy was in I think grade 4 or 5 they had a class on gender stereotypes. Teacher held forth about how bad it was. My kid grows increasingly puzzled. Asks teacher for clarification. "Well your mommy always has to cook supper..."
giggle. "My mom doesn't cook, dad does that." (true. We did start by alternating, but I like to cook and detest washing up. B would rather wash a mountain than have to boil an egg)
"Well, your dad always drives..."
"Not if mom is in the car. Never!" (true, B gets car-sick unless she drives. I've driven her somewhere I think thrice in her life. To have babies. And once when she was really sick.)
"Well your mom gardens..." helpless laughter.
"So who is the boss in your house?"
"I don't know, Ma'am." (true again with kids. Before they were born even, we decided on a common front, in front of them. We argued about things when they were weren't there to listen.)

We've never really fitted the gender standard mold, sharing things, doing what we liked or what needed to be done. Chip in if the other is working. I liked the Elizabethan concept that a gentleman was a man of many parts (my musical ability lets me down, alas. But I'll take on anything else). I cleaned house and changed kids when B was working and I was home writing. It needed doing and I could do it, and it was my 'share'. I iron better than B (thanks to the army). She sews better than I do. I found knitting mindlessly boring even if it is a traditionally male preserve (it was, yes) On the other hand I like making preserves (and not only traditional male ones like cider). Yes, I do the woodwork. But B has built walls and painted the house. The idea of there being a single 'boss'in our house is ludicrous. It depends on what's being decided on and when. We didn't 'decide' it would be like this. It's just the way we've sort of evolved. I suppose if one of us was strong and the other weak it might have been different - but then I'd never have married someone who wasn't brighter and as strong-willed as I was. I realise it's all a little atypical, but I do see a lot of similar patterns among my friends, to varying degrees. Are they henpecked, not real men? Metrosexual? Gay? Actually, I'd say it was the opposite. My friends tend to be people I climb with, dive with. They're the sort of people who don't need reassurance that they really are male (or female) as some kind of security blanket. Who don't give a toss if some other plonker thinks that doing the dishes is a bit feminine. They tend to be the far end of knowing they're male and as tough as old bootleather in the extremis positions they put themselves in. They don't need gender stereotypes to identify their sex. What's wrong with unzipping your fly and having a look if you're in doubt? Or if you care.

I was interested to see a UK law commission has produced a position paper on what they see as potential law-changes with regard to inheritance and people who die intestate. They're proposing that marriage no longer be pre-requisite for someone to inherit the estate. If you've been together for two years the surviving partner gets half the estate, and at 5 becomes the heir.

Blink.

Is this same bunch who said lifetime spinster sisters who live together cannot enjoy family status (ie when one dies the other must sell their home to pay inheritance tax)

Now the logical answer - to me - is don't be a plonker and die intestate. And formalise your relationship and its responsiblities and obligations if it going on a long time (no actually I don't care if you're gay or polyandrous - that is you and your partner/s choice, and you should be able to formalise it, if death may say leave one party without a home or with kids to look after. If they'd said make that easy,and beneficial, that would have my support.)

But let's take a hypothetical case. Joe divorces Edna - to whom he pays maintenance. Joe inherited a two room apartment from his granny, and Fred - a guy he worked with - boards there. It's a casual arrangement (like many of these) and Fred gives Joe 500 bucks in cash every month. They live as bachelor men (just as spinster sisters might). Five years and one day later, Joe steps off the pavement and is his hit by a Mack truck - dead on impact. Edna's maintenance check dies with him. But... she still has the apartment to sell. Except Fred says, sorry, we've been together 5 years. Edna has hissy fit. But short of having had a spycam in their bedrooms bedroom she has not a leg to stand on. Anyway, why does a partner actually have to have had a physical relationship? There are probably a good few married couples out there who haven't had sex for years. Of course she might argue they hadn't been togther 5 years but four years and 364 days... (as further example of 'ridiculous')

I think I see what they were trying to achieve, but maybe a little less nanny and a bit more advantage would work better...

It looks like I mave placed another short I wrote in the dark ages THE HUMAN CONQUEST OF A GALACTIC EMPIRE :IT'S A DIRTY JOB, BUT SOMEONE'S GOTTA DO IT
PART 1 : NEITHER SLEET, NOR SNOW, NOR ALIEN MONSTERS...

I'm mildly amused by this, as it is the least PC story I ever wrote (and gee I am so famous for those). The basic premise is that our idea of sexual harassment may be some other species idea of basic etiquette.

I must admit not having written for the last few days. But tomorrow, come hell or high water I must get back to the grindstone. It's been a bit emotionally wrenching, but good to see friends and family rally round. We remain a tribal crew - and it is quite wonderful that my 'village'is spread across the world.

And my lads... It was good to have them home. We've raised to exceptionally fine lads, is all I can say, and that in part was their grandmother. We continue.

My thanks to all of those of you who sent messages of support. For those of you who still have parents... a small request from me. Give them a call.

Johanna Alida Freer, 1916-2009.
May the circle be unbroken, by and by, Lord, by and by.

Well, I am coping somehow... writing through mom's illness, the hard decisions and farewells and uncertainties. I think it best to keep busy... I hope it doesn't come through into the book.

Starting afresh will be better than this, I hope.

Meanwhile: I got talked into twitter. I am wondering just how many people one reaches with these various net initiatives. They do take a lot of time, and I'm never sure if the posts interest anyone. But in my usual fashion, I just keep right on trying.

My mother is much the same. They're looking into step-down care of some sort.

I am on as davefreersf

Dave

We're in a difficult spell, in which there seems no movement at all (it reminds me of the publishing industry at present - many companies seem to be comatose on their response to proposals - because of their uncertainty I assume.) Mum is still only giving minimal responses. Her swallowing seems slightly improved, and her coughing. I know this seems callous but I desperately wish we had progress in some direction, or that we knew how bad the damage was, and if there was any real prospect of recovering, and how much. My mother was the original energiser bunny and was still hyperactive and very independent to very last. Her vision deteriorating frustrated her enormously (didn't stop her, but did limit her) and I hate to imagine what loss of mobility and communication could do.

Defying all expectation, mum is hanging in there, which means the bleed must have stopped again. We have no idea what damage has been done or if there is any chance of recovery (the specialist said he honestly didn't know either) Her respiration has improved and she now being fed naso-gastrically. She's basically comatose at this stage. One or other of us have been with her 24/7 since it happened, but she does seem to be stabilising. There is still a high risk of pneumonia or another bleed or the damage being too bad. But it was fairwell. Now it is wait-and-see again.

Bad news I am afraid. The bleeding has started up again, and barring a miricle, my mother is dying.

May a brave heart go well into a great light.

The radio system is now back up (running badly), so I am reposting this. Thank you all.

Status - My mum is in hospital, no longer critical. She's 92 11/12 so is quite ‘fragile'. She had lost most of her vision due to macular degeneraton but was overwise in good health, very mentally sharp and active still walking her little dog (or little dog walking her) inside the grounds of the secure complex where she lives in with my older sister. She's due for a CAT scan today but it looks like a clot on right hindbrain. She has some movement of left leg and very little of right arm. She's still able to speak somewhat intelligibly. Physio and speech therapy start immediately. Thank you all for thoughts an prayers.

We had an ‘interesting' trip back as yesterday was the first major big storm of summer. They also chose yesterday to leave unmarked stone piles on the road (for putting into the road - about 5 foot high pile of shale boulders.) on one of the worst hills. We came home in rain and mist and nearly hit the first one, but managed to skirt all but the final one just off the top of the hill. They'd just dumped them so they had taken too much road and on the camber and soft edge we slid into the ditch of soft mud. In loading some of their damned rocks to put on the back for weight, B managed to trap her finger and possibly break it. We failed to get out, and so I walked back (a mile or so, in the total dark -there are no lights here and the mist was down) to fetch the other truck. There were 2 stuck logging trucks blocking the road further on. Anyway, I got the other truck (big old heavy diesel) and more by luck than good judgement managed to squeeze past the loggin trucks (you cannot go slowly as the verge is soft, and the gap was so narrow I actually touched the side-mirror)

We managed to pull the other truck out and, after a fair epic (nearly stuck across the road) turned around and got home to delighted but very wet dogs - they had my study open and dry, but had to wait at the gate. The power was out and my computer (fortunately unplugged in case of storms) was not working. Found the problem, fixed it. However the radio sytem that does our internet is not working, and landline dialup is so bad as to make even getting a web page time out.

It never rains in Southern California.

My Mum has had a stroke and is hospital. I probably won't be around posting for a while

Dave

Now you'd think 4 cats would depopulate the local area of rodents, but they seldom go that far from the house, and I think my gifted gardening efforts have increased the local carrying capacity. Besides the dogs and people keep other predators a bit further off (caracal, Eagle owls, jackal, serval (about a week ago we had one at dusk stroll across the road in front of us - beautiful creature) all of which are common here, and probably make our cats seem like Pooh-bear. Anyway, evening ritual here, we take the dogs out, and then they go upstairs to their baskets and get a dog-biccy preparatory to settling down. B goes up first and lifts the cat bowls and opens the gate. I give Button (blind very old) her human supported physical excercise for the day, holding on (and lifting a bit) as she climbs the stairs. Only this time there is shriek from the top of the stairs...

Roland is always first in, and had found Legsie-cat we think, with a rat. And had... er... redistributed it. And now was sitting in his basket waiting for a biccy, like a good dog.
Well, like a good dog with a twitching rat-tail sticking out of his furry face. Like a sort of animated cigarette.

B of course is no woos (she puts up with me) but this one shattered her gravitas. ("anti-gravity discovered - how witches' broomsticks really flew - with rat tails and eye of newt(on)") As she said it was more a question of whether Roly opening his mouth and dropping it would be better or worse. Anyway, dropping poor Buttons your heroic monkey (I don't get a lot of chances with Mrs Monkey - she's not your fainting violet) bounded up the stairs, narrowly missed landing on his face falling over a very cross Legsie-cat ("That's MINE. I want it back! MEEEEOWWWW!) and grabbed Roly (rat-tail still animated -which guided the wisdom of my next actions in REMOVING him. (otherwise we would have had a very live rat being hunted around the bedroom by 3 dogs and probably several cat. Cough. Yes, it has happened. Ask me about the bat in the loo saga one day). Anyway Roly was extracted from bedroom, Rat was extracted from face (and hurtled off into the night to find a psycologist) and amid more "That was my rat" ("mine actually, you stole it from me" from Robin-cat) from Legs, and of course suitable excitement ("I'll just run across the bed quickly" from Wednesday, and an aimable 'there is excitement?' bark from Puggle) and comments from Duchess "no decorum" and Batman weaving between my feet just to help, Roland went upstairs and had his biccy, without quite so much rat.

He spent the next 5 minutes while we brushed our teeth etc molesting cats with his big black nose in case another one of them had his rat under their furry bellies...

On a more gloomy note I see the SA government is up in arms about some 'white' SA woman in Ireland claiming refugee status because she felt if she came back she would be the victim of criminal racial discrimination, which led her to fear for her wellbeing and life in the longer term. Outrage here - this is second one (the first in Canada.) The SA govt is planning to contest it for tarnishing their reputation. I'd back off quietly, if I was them. The current 'defence'of their yeah-sayers is huh, white South Africans only are 12% of the victims of crime. How can they claim they're being targeted? Boy I do hope maths is a stronger suite in the rest of the world than it is around here. Depending on whose figures/estimates you trust 'white' South Africans now make about 8-8.9% of the population. (I think the lower figure is probably accurate, and when you add another 4 million illegals the figure is probably 7.5%). It's fairly clear cut that yes, she's right. Of course some of this is criminal racial profiling of 'wealthier' targets - still means she is more likely to be one, than the average citizen. There is also a degree of brutality which is probably fairly accurately interpreted as racially motivated payback. Sigh. In 15 years many of the people they should be paying back have died or left. These are just victims chosen on skin colour - apartheid repeating itself. Of course the bottom line is that crime is just totally out of hand here, and if they had the political will to deal with that, differences in the demographics of their victims would be irrelevant. There is however an element that sees it as celebratable ethnic cleansing - and as they have bodyguards (small private armies really,) they don't care if poor black folk get killed in the process. Shades of Zimbabwe. Anyway, SA's once shining reptation is on its way to the toilet. But I expect a repeat of the Caster Semenya debacle, with denial and lots of screams of 'racist'.
I really wanted this country to work. :-(