downunder update

Sad to say, but the Hills Hoist is becoming rare these days. Have you ever watched a way of life passing and no one seems to care?

Once the Hills Hoist was synonymous with our way of life and every backyard across the continent had one. Usually with a few socks and a towel to dry in the wind.

My generation grew up agile, lean and lissome from countless hours swinging around and around. I would start at the back door, take a deep breath, break into a long, loping run and then literally fly through the air, across the rhubarb patch, to grasp the bars in one fluid movement. We all did.

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The mighty Huon pine, with its exquisite smell, dominates the southern rainforest wilderness.

Tasmania has large areas of cool temperate rainforest, very different from rainforest found in warmer climates of mainland Australia. The Tasmanian rainforests are silent, dark and damp, and the tree trunks and forest floor are festooned with a luxuriant carpet of mosses and lichens. In autumn and early winter, the rainforest floor is dappled with an array of brightly coloured fungi.

You find the most ancient tree species here. The rainforest hasn’t changed in 60 million years.

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The Red, Black and Gold of the Indigenous Australian Flag sprang from passionate times.

It was a symbol of race and identity in the Land Rights struggles of the 1970s, when Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people fought their exclusion from proper education, health care, housing and employment.

For those who know the history of this country and recognise its terrible legacy of injustice for indigenous people, the raising of the flag is unifying and inclusive. It’s a commitment to our future together. Read the rest of this entry »

They have been spotted in every Australian state, huge black catlike creatures that prowl the remote regions of our vast mountain ranges and hidden valleys.

Sightings have multiplied of late, perhaps because of the pressures on animal habitats in these last long years of the drought. Scattered farming communities are terrorised, cows mysteriously mauled and livestock slaughtered. Left behind, as calling cards, are large paw-prints. Read the rest of this entry »

He lived fast, died young and left a beautiful corpse.

The immortal Phar Lap, winner of the 1930 Cup won the hearts of the nation in the Great Depression, winning the coveted trophy while carrying a 68kg (10 stone) handicap.

Phar Lap was foaled among the rich sweet grass of New Zealand in 1926. He stood at 17 hands and over his career won more than 65 thousand pounds in prize money and won 37 of his 51 starts.

He won virtually every major Australian race, many of them twice.

The idea of taking ‘Big Red‘ to the United States had been discussed among racing people for some time, but it was said that many had a dark sense of foreboding about the plans. However, the decision was not theirs to make. Read the rest of this entry »

Once upon a time we had horse troughs like these all over the place.

We still had horses then, the baker’s daughter arrived in a horse drawn cart, as did the infrequent Bottle-O to pick up any used glass, and the even less frequent Rabbit-O with his wares. (Always buy the whole rabbit, my mother warned, you have to look at the head).

The milk was delivered by a horse too, walking slowly, pulling his van without prompting along our street. The milkman, with a little hand basket packed with bottles, stopped at every gate where we would leave notes out for him overnight. Two pints and 1/3 of cream please. And the money sitting next to yesterday’s empty bottles.

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