Miscellaneous Collection by Gretchen Bernet-Ward
Exactly what we need in these days of social-distancing!
♥ Gretchen Bernet-Ward
I’m looking for story and poetry submissions for the May issue. A nice way to honour a special person at a time when we might not be able to visit…
Mothers, grandmothers, daughters who have children of their own, special aunts and friends…send them in 🙂
Positive Words magazine
PO Box 798
Heathcote 3523 Victoria
Oh, hark the dogs are barking, love,
I can no longer stay,
The men are all gone mustering
And it is nearly day.
And I must be off by the morning light,
Before the sun doth shine,
To meet the Roma shearers,
On the banks of the Condamine.
Oh Willie, dearest Willie,
I’ll go along with you,
I’ll cut off all my auburn fringe
And be a shearer, too.
I’ll cook, and count your tally, love,
While ringer-o you shine,
And I’ll wash your greasy moleskins
On the banks of the Condamine.
Oh, Nancy, dearest Nancy,
With me you cannot go,
The squatters gave us orders, love,
No woman should do so;
Your delicate constitution
Is not equal unto mine,
To withstand the constant tigering
On the banks of the Condamine.
Oh Willy, dearest Willy,
Then stay back home with me,
We’ll take up a selection,
And a farmer’s wife I’ll be.
I’ll help you husk the corn, love,
And cook your meals so fine.
You’ll forget the ram-stag mutton
On the banks of the Condamine.
Oh, Nancy, dearest Nancy,
Please do not hold me back,
Down there the boys are waiting,
And I must be on the track.
So here’s a goodbye kiss, love,
Back home here I’ll incline
When we’ve shorn the last of the jumbucks
On the banks of the Condamine.
Anonymous.
From ‘Bush Songs, Ballads and Other Verse’ selected by Douglas Stewart and Nancy Keesing and published 1967 by Angus & Robertson Ltd, printed by Discovery Press.
The following information from—
https://music.stevetowson.com/track/the-banks-of-the-condamine-2
Australian traditional music has a dearth of love songs, but here is one from our home state of Queensland. The English folk singer and collector A.L. Lloyd wrote about this song—
“Throughout the fifty years from 1820 to 1870, broadside printers in London, Newcastle, Dublin and elsewhere did a good trade with the stall-ballad called ‘Banks of the Nile’, a song from the Napoleonic Wars. The song spread to America and Australia, and in Queensland it became parodied as ‘The Banks of the Condamine’, with the hero no longer a soldier but a horse-breaker or a shearer. It has turned up in sundry shapes, to various tunes, many times over, mostly in Queensland.”
♥ Gretchen Bernet-Ward
Hello M,
Attached are photos of Aunt Jenny’s doll.
I inherited Jenny’s doll.
There’s a special clause in Jenny’s will regarding said doll.
The doll must go to me.
But carrying no explanation.
Jenny’s doll is at least 60 years old.
Our cousin JR mailed the doll to me.
In pink tissue paper in a cardboard box.
I don’t remember the doll.
I don’t remember her name.
A happy childhood anecdote linked to this doll?
JR does not know details.
Just that Jenny always wanted me to have the doll.
JR does not know the doll’s name.
Her temporary name is Margaret.
The name of my childhood friend.
Gretchen and Margaret mean the same thing.
We both wore bows in our hair.
All our aunts are gone now.
Would anyone in the family know the story?
Did I spend my toddler years with this doll?
She must have been as tall as me then.
But not cool for a teenager.
Poor doll, re-wrapped in pink tissue paper.
Wearing a boring flannelette nightie.
What shall I do with her now she’s mine?
Love ♥ Gretchen
Email to My Cousin © Gretchen Bernet-Ward
Friday 3rd April 2020
Former journalist Martin Scarsden had vowed never to return to Port Silver so I was not too sure about his inauspicious homecoming nor his strained relationship with girlfriend Mandalay (Mandy) Blonde. She has inherited an old house on a clifftop, while Martin seems distant from everything happening around him, plagued by unsettling flashbacks from his unsettled past. And long-ago deaths in his family.
As the plot twists and turns with great characters and best-ever location, I was there strolling along the Port Silver shoreline; eating fish and chips; watching the waves break on Hummingbird Beach; driving the coastal road with Martin Scarsden as he tries to solve the stabbing death of his childhood friend Jasper Speight. Unfortunately Jasper died in Mandy’s apartment and she is being held for his murder so Martin works on clearing her name using the only clue, a blood-stained postcard.
Over nine days, Martin’s exploits unfold and move inexorable towards their goal, every question important to building the story and solving the first murder mystery. Yes, not one but two mysteries, and I like the way Chris Hammer does not describe so much as lets slip small details until they add up to a whole.
Mandy’s creepy old Hartigan house on the clifftop is suitably introduced in Disney ‘Goonies’ fashion.
Characters formed before my eyes—all with big question marks hovering over their heads. The mellow reunion with Martin’s Uncle Vern; the glowing backpackers Topaz and Royce; real estate agent Jasper’s mother Denise; Jay-Jay Hayes surfie greenie conservationist of Hummingbird Beach; sleazy bigwig developer Tyson St Clair; oddball Swami Hawananda; and dishonest cop Johnson Pear to name a handful.
Despite youthful recollections and emotional hurdles, Martin keeps working on the murder case, annoying the police and local land developers with questions and questionable behaviour. He gets hauled in occasionally for interrogation and was appointed a scruffy solicitor Nick Poulos to handle his case. Then comes a tragic mass murder … or ritual suicide?
At this stage, I am undecided if I am meant to have sympathy for Martin or not. He certainly makes mistakes and isn’t good boyfriend material. But he’s an inquisitive bloke, and a good journo who pursues the secondary crime of the multiple deaths. The scoop of the decade! By chapter 24, he’s in his element, following up leads, discovering clues, writing copy, advising Terri, editor of the Sydney Morning Herald, topping it off by having dinner with media buddies just like old times. Hmm.
An overarching question: what happened to his mother and sisters? I think it’s stretching it to say Martin did not have an inkling about what happened all those years ago. School mates, friends, even his alcoholic father could have babbled. As to the possible perpetrators, I was spoilt for choice. The only one I could happily cross off the list was Liam, the nappy-filling baby son of Mandy.
I love Aleksander J. Potočnik’s map of Port Silver. The setting is similar to Byron Bay and my photographs, taken on an overcast day, show the iconic Cape Byron Lighthouse.
The lighthouse sits on a rocky headland, Australia’s most easterly point. That’s what I pictured in my mind while reading. The beaches, lighthouse, Nob Hill, coastal views, inland sugarcane fields and menacing land development which are strongly portrayed by the author. Landmarks like the ‘fictitious’ old Cheese Factory give off furtiveness vibes.
Heading towards Martin’s hard won resolution, author Chris Hammer deserves top marks for not changing certain Australian words which some readers may not understand but will eventually figure out. I think it’s time to stop neutering, let readers learn, laugh and speak our colloquial sayings.
Grab this book and be swept away by the tidal undertow of crime and mystery—well worth it.
♥ Gretchen Bernet-Ward
AUTHOR PROFILE:
Chris Hammer was a journalist for more than thirty years, dividing his career between covering Australian federal politics and international affairs. He holds a BA degree in journalism from Charles Sturt University and a Master’s degree in international relations from Australian National University.
Chris has written an award-winning non-fiction book ‘The River’ followed by crime fiction ‘Scrublands’ published 2018 and shortlisted for Best Debut Fiction at the Indie Book Awards. Chris lives in Canberra with his wife and two children.
Website https://chrishammerauthor.com/ Recommended ‘The Coast’ a journey along Australia’s eastern shores by Chris Hammer https://www.mup.com.au/books/the-coast-paperback-softback
It took a while to get my head around Joan Stanley’s rationale. Growing up, I had heard about the Official Secrets Act and censored letters from my father who was in the second world war, but never about spies selling secrets: I gleaned by inference that espionage was problematic for all sides. Red Joan knew how to keep her lips zipped.
I really enjoyed this story and I put another book on hold to finished it. Before and after the 70th anniversary of VE-Day, there was a rash of fact and fiction war books from the UK and this is one of them.
The bombings are what I found missing in Jennie Rooney’s tale, the destruction and the precautions every citizen had to take every day to survive. Joan Stanley appears to live a charmed life in this regard, and not much of the physical devastation seems to touch her.
After a sheltered schooling, Joan attends Cambridge University where she meets flamboyant student Sonya; and Joan is easily swayed by Sonya’s handsome cousin Leo Galich. Slowly Joan is groomed to become a spy and eventually steals top secret documents. While her resolute decision to help the war effort unfolds beautifully and logically (to Joan at least) I couldn’t help thinking “Surely she isn’t that naive?” But she is, and this propels the story.
That, and romance. This is where cousin Leo comes in. What can I say about earnest socialist Leo? He is easy to picture—any handsome, charismatic, idealistic Uni student would fit his mould. I can excuse Joan’s love-struck crush on Leo but not her belief in her new friend Sonya, a powerful influence.
Joan Stanley (loosely based on real spy Melita Norwood) specialises in theoretical physics and when she gets a job in a metals research facility, the touch-and-go desire with Professor Max Davis is well done, I could see that happening. The cast of males are oblivious to Joan’s duplicity, and receptionist Karen is pretty much ignored. For a laugh I pictured Karen afterwards as a retired MI5 operative.
As I said, I like this book and would recommend it, not for an in-depth look at the war effort but as a glimpse into the human side, the male/female relationships and the story behind the atomic bomb construction. Just enough details; the lab, scientific information, the protocols.
Destructive and fascinating at the same time.
In the end, in my opinion, the unravelling of the story was pretty low-key. Sir William Mitchell was out of the game, so that left Leo and Sonya’s questionable career moves. Poor Joan, there seemed no end to her emotional turmoil before and after discovery.
Lately I’ve read a couple of books with weak transitions, but I thought the past and present were well written in Rooney’s story. She did a good job with Joan’s son Nick Stanley QC, a real fly-in-the-ointment (or our own subconscious thoughts?) and he had a Hollywood style moment at the end.
I like to pick out my favourite lines in a story and I quote:
There is a pause.
“Anyway”, Joan says, “I’d have thought the Soviets would be developing their own weapons?”
“They are. But it’s taking too long. They’re starting from a disadvantage.”
Leo sighs and reaches once more across the table.
“Please, Jo-jo. Don’t you see? You’re in a unique position here to change the history of the world.”
When VE-Day dawns on 8th May 2020 it will be 75 years since the end of the war in Europe so I guess there will be more books forthcoming.
Of course, we read in hindsight and that can be a wonderfully misleading thing.
♥ Gretchen Bernet-Ward
AUTHOR PROFILE:
Jennie Rooney was born in Liverpool in 1980. She read History at the University of Cambridge and taught English in France before moving to London to work as a solicitor. She lives in West London, and also writes and teaches History and English. The fictitious story of Joan Stanley, the KGB’s longest-serving British spy, is her third novel. It was adapted for the 2018 film ‘Red Joan’ directed by Trevor Nunn, starring Dame Judi Dench as aged Joan and Sophie Cookson as young Joan.
INTERVIEW: Read Jennie Rooney’s discussion with RadioTimes about ‘Red Joan’ her book that inspired the movie and why she made changes https://www.radiotimes.com/news/film/2019-08-28/red-joan-author-on-why-she-changed-the-true-story-for-judi-dench-movie-im-not-a-biographer/
In July 2020, Lady Diana, Princess of Wales, would have been 59 years old. I don’t know about you but that makes me feel old!
I guess I kept these magazines as a small piece of vicarious history, a trip down memory lane. Photographs are taken from my old copies of Hello! (August 1997) The Australian Women’s Weekly (May 1998, June 2000) and Who Weekly (June 2001) in memory of the late Princess of Wales.
The late Diana, Princess of Wales, was born The Honourable Diana Frances Spencer on Saturday, 1 July 1961, in Norfolk England. She received the title Lady Diana Spencer in 1975, when her father inherited his Earldom.
Lady Diana Spencer married Charles, The Prince of Wales, at St Paul’s Cathedral in London on Wednesday, 29 July 1981, becoming Princess of Wales. The ceremony was watched on television by millions of people around the world. As I recall her silk wedding gown looked crushed as she alighted from the royal carriage.
One warm night in April 1983 I waited beside the bitumen road as Charles and Diana left Government House, Brisbane, to travel into the city for an official function. The Rolls Royce was lit from within and I recall how Diana glowed and smiled even though the figures beyond her window would have been shadows.
During her marriage, the Princess of Wales undertook a wide range of royal duties with extensive overseas travel. Family was very important to Diana, who had two sons: Prince William and Prince Henry (Harry). After her divorce from The Prince of Wales in August 1996, the Princess continued to be regarded as a member of the Royal Family.
Post-divorce, Lady Diana filmed a controversial interview about her marriage. She died on Sunday, 31 August 1997, following a tragic car crash in Paris, believed to be caused by paparazzi chasing her vehicle through a tunnel. After purchasing the Courier-Mail newspaper, my father told me the news and I was disbelieving, shocked.
There was widespread (and world-wide) public mourning over the sudden death of Lady Diana, Princess of Wales, a hugely popular royal, culminating with her funeral at Westminster Abbey on Saturday, 6 September 1997. After the funeral, there was a long cavalcade by road to a small island on Althorp Estate, her family’s ancestral home in Northhampshire, England. The streets around my home were silent, everyone watching Diana’s last journey. It is hard to forget the funeral hearse driving past so many sad faces and billowing seas of flowers on route to her final destination.
Even after her untimely death, the Princess’s work lives on in the form of commemorative charities and projects set up to help those in need. And also through her married sons Prince William (heir to the royal throne) Prince Harry, and in time their respective children.
♥ Gretchen Bernet-Ward
Book Jotter information
https://bookjotter.com/2020/03/01/wales-readathon-2020/
DHQ 2020
https://bookjotter.com/2018/03/26/dhq-dewithon19/
Week 1 Discussion
https://bookjotter.com/2020/03/06/dewithon-20-week-1-one-moonlit-night-by-caradog-prichard/
Gretchen’s stuff
https://thoughtsbecomewords.com/2020/02/21/are-you-ready-for-wales-readathon-2020/
♥ Gretchen Bernet-Ward
Kate Llewellyn is a hidden treasure. I had not read any of her works before today but she is reaching the age of legend status and should be acknowledged for her beautiful poetry now rather than in retrospect.
In ‘Blue Mountains Christmas’ Kate Llewellyn explores the particular delight of summer rain which breaks a dry spell:
Yesterday, smoke from the valley-–
I thought it was mist
until I smelt it-–
and today, each leaf holds water drops,
shining – it rained in the night.
Kate Llewellyn expresses wonder in the capacity of nature for regeneration in the face of disaster, and nature’s opportunism. In ‘Magpies’ she defines the summer heat and leaving a garden sprinkler on while a bushfire rages:
It had been hot for days,
the garden sprawled-–
hit like a cricketer.
I left a hose on,
hanging in the apple tree,
and went indoors and slept.
Magpies found this fountain
and stalked around.
They made a midsummer opera
and gargled water-–
it became their song.
They sang as if to praise
the fountain in the tree.
While all this was happening
a hundred fires swept the State.
Great trees exploded,
birds and animals caught fire.
People died and houses burnt,
yet still these magpies sang
around the fountain in the tree.
Australia is the driest inhabited continent on the planet. It is natural that drought and the regeneration which comes from bushfires and drought-breaking rains are timeless subjects in our poetry and evocatively captured by Kate Llewellyn.
♥ Gretchen Bernet-Ward
Kate Llewellyn is an award-winning Australian poet, author, diarist and travel writer. She is the author of twenty-four books comprising eight of poetry, five of travel, journals, memoir ‘The Dressmaker’s Daughter’, letters and essays. “Kate Llewellyn is naturally poetic, naturally personal, and uniquely generous with it.” writes Australian Book Review’s South Australian State Editor Peter Goldsworthy. Further reading Poetry Library.
ABC Radio National transcript:
https://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/saturdayextra/kate-llewellyn/3288742
Here’s what coordinator, author and literary entrepreneur, Michelle Worthington has to say in her newsletter: ‘This year’s theme ‘Bedtime Yarns and Ballads from the Australian Bush’ will have judges looking for creative, engaging short stories or poems inspired by life in Australia, Australian animals, the Outback or overcoming adversity which will appeal to children aged 0 to 12 years to be read at bedtime.’
A ‘yarn’ is a rambling story, particularly one that is implausible, and poetry must be in traditional Australian ballad format. Michelle encourages writers to think of a modern version of Blinky Bill, Banjo Patterson, Dorothea Mackellar, ‘Wombat Stew’ (I add my own personal favourite ‘Snugglepot and Cuddlepie’) for a new generation of readers.
Michelle Worthington goes on to say ‘We would love aspiring authors of all ages to have the chance to be published in our next Anthology to raise money for Aussie’s doing it tough, with proceeds donated to the NSW Rural Fire Service’.
NOTE: ‘The winning entries will be included in an Anthology to be launched in October 2020, and all successful authors and illustrators will be invited as VIP Guests to the Pyjama Party Book Launch at the Queensland Children’s Hospital and locations around Australia during the launch month.’
For competition guidelines and entry requirements, visit the website to sign up for Share Your Story newsletter
https://shareyourstorypublishing.com/
Michelle Worthington is an international award-winning author and business woman. As Founder of Share Your Story Australia, she waves her wand to coach aspiring authors and illustrators all over the world to achieve their dreams of publication. Michelle is also available for speaking engagements, book signings and school visits. She runs diverse workshops, and if you are thinking of becoming a writer, check out Share Your Story or visit Facebook or contact Michelle for further information.
“English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren’t invented in England or French fries in France.
Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren’t sweet, are meat.
We take English for granted.
But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor a pig.
Why do writers write but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham?
If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the plural of booth beeth?
One goose, two geese. So one moose, two meese?
If you have a pile of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what is it called?
If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught?
If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?
Sometimes English speakers should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane.
In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital?
Ship by truck and send cargo by ship?
Have noses that run and feet that smell?
How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?
Have you noticed that we talk about certain things only when they are absent?
Have you ever seen a horseful carriage or a strapful gown?
Or met an sung hero who has experienced requited love?
Have you met someone who was combobulated, gruntled, ruly or peccable?
Where are those people who are spring chickens or who would actually hurt a fly?
The lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down.
Fill in a form by filling it out, while an alarm goes off by going on.”
Written by Anonymous
Poetry Soup
https://www.poetrysoup.com/famous/quote/27538_english_is_a_crazy_language_there
English is the most widely spoken language in the world.
No language in history has dominated quite like it.
English has adapted many different words to suit itself.
Could this be why English is one of the hardest languages to learn?
The Guardian newspaper explains—
https://www.theguardian.com/news/2018/jul/27/english-language-global-dominance
Thoughts Become Words 