Many homes have a hoarder, a collector of items, souvenirs, mementoes, toys, anything from sentimental to historical objects which gather dust, get donated, or are disposed of when the collector themselves reach the ephemeral stage.
Exhibit One: These skinny Brisbane telephone books are clinging on to past glories when everyone in business or at home reached for the ubiquitous phone book for a million different reasons. (Of course, prior to that, Directory Assistance were actually real women in the exchange answering calls with plugs and cords). The ‘modern’ phone book was a thick, chunky, printed paper volume in every home, every phone booth and on every desk in Australia. Now the same service is extended a billion times more via electronic means, mainly mobile phones. Except now you have to look more closely, assess more astutely, question more thoroughly the validity and genuineness of what you are reading from an often unverified source via an individual screen.
Exhibit Two: I pondered longingly on which of my inherited items would have the most value. Neither seem likely. Who wants old phone books and who polishes cake forks to use on a hand-painted cake server with a handle? This one was made and crafted in England by Royal Winton Grimwades pottery. It has all the right marks on the back to suggest it is genuine but relatively worthless. Royal Winton is an English brand of ceramics made by Grimwades Limited, a Stoke-on-Trent based company founded in 1885. The brand is particularly associated with chintzware and did not survive the unsentimental 1960s ethos of ‘Out with the old and in with the new’.
Let’s believe Peter Allen‘Everything old is new again’. In the future will everyday items become useful again, reused, recycled, or just sentimentally remembered via old movies, ubiquitous YouTube and books—yes, books will still exist! Chat to your sweet grandmother, verbose grandfather or trusted mature person and listen to their stories before AI fiction rewrites their history.
❤ Gretchen Bernet-Ward
Postscript: Our personal memories only go back as far as we have lived. Or not. Depends on your age, health and wellbeing. Write those unique experiences down for the future! GBW.
I guess every blogger at some time or another decides to take a break, whether it is because of lifestyle changes, work pressures or just that nothing seems to jump out and say “Blog me!” My recent lackadaisical approach is due to high tropical heat and incredibly torrential downpours which have played havoc with both inland regions and coastal towns of Queensland, Australia.
Here in subtropical Brisbane we have had massive plant growth (and soggy lawns, water under the house, humidity which is exhausting) and my photograph is proof of Nature’s unequivocal love of water. The lawn (grass really) is up to my knees; overnight the lavender grew out of its pot, and you can see by the rainwater bucket (used on potted indoor plants) keeps replenishing day and night. Instead of high heating bills, this summer the electricity source is working hard on air-con and ceiling fans.
Still, there is always something to do and life does go on, and on, and on, helped or hindered by weather cycles. Perhaps this time next year Brisbane City Council will introduce hand-watering and I will probably be doling out cupful’s of the precious liquid. Water is really survival itself!
Something which has been taking a bit of my attention away from blogging is poetry. A quote from Fishing for Lightning explains why— “In defence of difficulty in poetry I would say this: poetry tries, as best it can, to wrestle with our most complex and ineffable emotions, and in order to do so the poet must forge a language that is equal to the task.”
Soon, I will blog post about a U3A Zoom poetry class I am attending online – due to the heat and rain – and confidently tell you that I am slowly grasping the concept. The book I am studying is titled ‘Fishing for Lightning’ compiled by Sarah Holland-Batt, I won’t divulge the story behind the title, subtitled ‘The Spark of Poetry’. The only poem spark I remember grasping was William Wordsworth’s daffodils in ‘I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud’ but as an adult I am prepared to give it another go. Stay tuned!
Oh, now just a self-indulgent notation: Due to this year’s phenomenal plant growth, all gardening clean-up services (and lawnmower men) are fully booked. Even a local lad who works on weekends is not returning calls. Some ute-and-whipper-snipper operators are charging grossly inflated prices because it is an industry which is not regulated. This strange turn of events prompted me to request a Green Bin from our city council; it’s like a normal rubbish bin except it’s green and clean and recycles garden waste. Just wait until the weekend!
And finally, a little nudge to all those lazy, off-hand, patronising and sometimes whingey gardener guys who came to quote and never rang back, ignoring my pleas and cash; just you wait until the weather cycle changes and everything turns to drought. Will the work be there? Or will we lawnmower-challenged suburbanites shrug and say “Sorry, the lawn and garden are totally dried out, no need of your services, I can hand-trim the odd blade of grass myself.” (Ah, the power, cue evil laughter 😀)
This Stephen Benét quote struck a cord with me and I wish it would reverberate around the world to governments, politicians, leaders, teachers, legal and law enforcers, armed forces, researchers in medicine and electronics, mass media, writers, local companies, every citizen, parents and caregivers. Just because we can wield great power, building and destroying in equal measure, from bombing cities to decimating rainforests, I believe we should stop and cultivate the wisdom of Consequence. Bigger, stronger is rarely better. Be wise enough to know it can be done but is it necessary for a healthy future? Wisdom to think, assess, and speak clearly. Wisdom to be unafraid to give your opinion, which unfortunately is denied in many countries. Less power, more universal wisdom to make things better not worse. GBW.
Got half an hour? Don’t mind small print? No pretty pictures? Want to read my jaded Thoughts Become Words? This opinion piece has been brewing for several months and what better than my zodiac Year Of The Dragon* to launch a strongly worded blog post.
Recently I was about to enter a website to check on some stuff when the following information popped up. Most of us vaguely realise that our activity on the WWW is monitored. But here (below) is a rather more comprehensive look at what “they” glean from my device. Of course “You can change or withdraw your consent any time from the Cookie Declaration” but by that time it is too late. I have well and truly been identified.
Oddly enough, I always felt safe when I knew my paper documents and personal details were archived in a filing cabinet or locked safe. But we all know both can be stolen, copied, photographed, or open to various forms of physical damage.
I AM NOT WRITING THIS TO INSTIL FEAR OR ANGER, I SIMPLY WONDER IF OUR DETAILS WILL EVER TRULY BE SAFE, NOT FROM THE GATHERER BUT THE ILLEGAL HARVESTER?
The modern cyber criminal, whose grubby hands only touch a keyboard, can easily steal a person’s savings and ruin lives within seconds. Do not trust unsolicited links, odd emails, text messages, requests for your details, funds transfer or anything that immediately makes you query where it came from. Go with your prehistoric gut instinct and throw that metaphorical spear, i.e. click Delete and empty your rubbish bin. It may stop the rampaging beast.
So, how many people comprehensively read the Terms and Conditions?
HERE IS AN EXAMPLE OF WHAT PROMPTED MY THOUGHTS:
QUOTE “We and our 800 partners process your personal data, e.g. your IP-number, using technology such as Cookies to store and access information on your device in order to serve personalised ads and content, ads and content measurement, audience insights and product development. You have a choice in who uses your data and for what purposes.” (As if…)
“If you allow, we would also like to:
1. Collect information about your geographical location which can be accurate to within several metres.” (Good grief!)
2. “Identify your device by actively scanning it for specific characteristics.” (Fingerprinting)
3. “Find out more about how your personal data is processed and set your preferences in the details section.” (More personal input)
4. “You can change or withdraw your consent at any time from the Cookie Declaration.” (Yep, withdraw your consent, no mention of stored details)
“We use Cookies and similar technology like Cookies to understand how you use our site and to improve your experience. This includes essential functionality, performance and for (mainly unwanted) advertising purposes.” Question: Why, in their arrogance, are they so confident they can improve my experience?
In reality, I guess it is already too late to stop my details circumnavigating the world “for advertising purposes”. Similar to the flawed decision to allow Vaping into Australia, “Oh dear we are in a dilemma now, what can be done to fix it? Let’s throw more money at it and see what happens.” Probably nothing, just more young lives ruined by lung-corroding chemicals before the Government approves the next pleasurable yet ultimately destructive addiction.
If computer technicians, programmers, web designers, A.I. (colloquially known as Artificial Interference) and geeks-who-tinker are reading this blog post, I can sense your derision from here. And I don’t care because I am older than you and have experienced a lot more bad decisions in the world.
Ultimately human nature rules as in “Yeah, I like that,” or “Nah, I don’t like that” and the market is fickle thus you are trying to make it very appealing, very engrossing, so that you get paid for all your keyboard work. Are your fingers insured?
Therefore, my question is “Do I splather* myself around the globe?” Or do I clamp down on my details, put a tightly fitting lid on search engines, phishing, and those ubiquitous Cookies? Probably wouldn’t get much access, nor much done, because I wouldn’t be compatible or recognised, etc, which neatly supersedes the use of one’s own initiative.
Internet technology takes time to develop and test new stuff and (don’t tell them) it can be pretty hit and miss. Entertainment seems to be safe to use, after you have signed up, signed in, ticked the boxes, unticked the Not-applicable ones, fast scrolled down countless Clauses and Regulations, ticked the Declaration which state your details are safely stored, etc, etc, finally arriving at Preferences knowing they will ignore your settings anyway—every time you log in! Even WordPress has been known to drop a few blog functions.
SIDE-TRACK Don’t get me started on Goodreads, and have you read the juicy gossip about Amazon? Wired – “Scammy AI-Generated Book Rewrites Are Flooding Amazon” Kate Knibbs reports: “Authors keep finding what appear to be AI-generated imitations and summaries of their books on Amazon. There’s little they can do to rein in the rip-offs.” Real books on a real shelf in a real library– I am such a Luddite*
And what is it with this Unsubscribe Button? Apparently it is consumer law that an Unsubscribe Button should appear on emails/notices/newsletters/businesses to stop regularly unwanted stuff (spam) in your inbox. However, it sometimes takes weeks for the Unsubscribe notice to take effect. Oh, don’t tell me someone has to physically click to delete your data…
ALWAYS MORE CAN BE QUESTIONED AND QUERIED. IF AND WHEN I DECIDE, NOT WHEN I GET AN EMAIL, NOT WHEN I GET AN ALERT, NOT WHEN THE INTERNET TELLS ME IT’S FANTASTIC EVERYONE IS SAVING MONEY DOING IT, AND NEVER ME ON SOCIALS WHEN SUPPOSEDLY EVERYONE IS DOING IT, ESPECIALLY NOT THEN. GBW 2024.
Life cannot be lived backwards, but it will never revert now anyway. The downturn in skilled tradespeople is proof of that. Not enough keen young apprentices for physical job training. Sure medical research and sciences have taken a huge leap forward, but can humans live as truly independent thinkers when an artificial intelligence shares the same room?
FOR ME, DECLARING LUDDISM IS NOT A NAIVE EMOTION BUT A GENUINE STANCE ON TECHNOLOGY AND OUR ALL-ENCOMPASSING RELIANCE ON IT INSTEAD OF SEEKING THOUSANDS OF YEARS OF REAL HUMAN ADVICE FIRST.
Maybe keep looking back over your shoulder at old skills because a thinking life is fading fast. Perhaps internet safety controllers have vacated the building and a rag-tag crew is left patching the patches. (Nothing personal, guys, your brainpower got you this far). As for the rest of us, keep safe, keep deleting, query everything. Most of all, don’t let internet searches give you the wrong information, go to genuine websites in your own country. Of course, it is fun reading and writing blog (weblog abbreviation) posts and every device has a settings/close/shutdown button.
Finished scrolling? “But I like scrolling” says Person. “Of course you do. It’s designed that way.” Put down the electronic device, push away that keyboard. Grab a real book or pencil and paper to sit quietly for awhile. Challenge: Can you manage being an independent human being for half an hour?
Thought so…Gretchen pensive face emoji 😔
❤ Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2024
*YEAR OF THE DRAGONLunar New Year begins on 10 February 2024. This marks the start of the Year of the Wood Dragon. *SPLATHER (noun): 1. : ungainly 2. : rambling. Sends a long splathering telegram. UK author J. B. Priestley(1894–1984) *LUDDITE (noun) Definition: 1. A person who is opposed to the introduction of new working methods, especially new machines. 2. Jathan Sadowski The Conversation Review“I’m a Luddite. You should be one too.” 9 August 2021.
Award-winning author Laura Jean McKay writes on another level of unusual. Clever, jolting and altogether quite unique.
A certain maturity is needed to feel the strength and hypnotic power of the ‘Gunflower’ short stories. It’s not what’s written which holds the key. It’s the unsettling subtext and intertextuality which means there is more here than meets the reader’s eye.
These short stories transcend the written words so that my own reminiscences began to colour the pages. I squirmed, I laughed, I cried and most of all I realised where the author was coming from with each character or creature, for better or worse.
Grouped under three headings Birth / Life / Death, don’t let the idyllic pastoral bookcover fool you. Written with a keen eye, read ‘Last Days of Summer’ or ‘What We Do’ and try not to shiver with guilt. Some tales are one page length, memorably short and punchy. Perhaps the longest story is ‘Gunflower’ a powerful premise on abortion.
There is loss as well as survivor moments. As I read I remembered a person I knew just like one of the deli characters Joni in ‘Smoko’ but then grasped that I didn’t know the real person at all until the character showed me their inner tenacity. As did all the women in these stories; Felicity and Barb are particularly liberated in ‘Ranging’ 😉
This book may not appeal to the mass market and I bet readers will have different opinions on what ‘Site’ is all about. First Fleet? Booklovers often have a conservative bent when it comes to the patriarchy and also communicating with pets and animals. We tend to shy away like skittish horses at difficult chapters, but I think the subjects earned their hard-won place.
Brace yourself, this is a wild ride and McKay’s novel ‘The Animals In That Country’ seems restrained in comparison. I do wonder if short story collections are the ones which never flourish into fully fledged books. But, hey, these are thought-provoking gems and many Australian authors never get this far.
Keep it different, Laura, keep shaking it up.
❤ Gretchen Bernet-Ward
Laura Jean McKay is the author of Gunflower, and The Animals in That Country (Scribe) was winner of the prestigious Arthur C. Clarke Award, The Victorian Prize for Literature, the ABIA Small Publishers Adult Book of the Year and co-winner of the Aurealis Award for Best Science Fiction Novel 2021. The Animals in That Country has been shortlisted for The Kitschies, The Stella Prize, The Readings Prize and the ASL Gold Medal and longlisted for the Miles Franklin Award.
OLD SCOTTISH NURSERY RHYME. MY PARENTS QUOTED THIS POEM TO ME WHEN I WAS A CHILD BUT IT DID NOT HELP ME SLEEP…
Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town,
Upstairs and downstairs, in his nightgown;
Rapping at the window, crying through the lock,
“Are the children in their beds?
It’s past eight o’clock.”
Penned by Glaswegian poet William Miller, it originally appeared as a fiveverse rhyme written in the Glasgow UK vernacular in 1842.
Perhaps you know it. Over the years the wording and ending has varied, for example the original poem is longer and specified ten o’clock. See Quora for information:
Here’s the beginning of the extended version – “Wee Willie Winkie rins through the toon, Up stairs and doon stairs in his nicht-goon, Tirling at the window, cryin’ at the lock, Are the weans in their bed, for it’s now ten o’clock?”
A small selection of some of the books I read in 2023. Those shown are not block-busting bestsellers (yet) but very enjoyable reads. I liked them all and can recommend them.
The particular standout for me is Stone Yard Devotional because it was unexpected and different and engrossing—and believe it or not I did not write a blog post review. However, below I have re-posted my Goodreads review. I am sure this novel will win a literary prize in 2024.
View the 80+ books I have read and reviewed in 2023, click on link and browse my Goodreads webpage:
If you have time, here is my l-o-n-g Goodreads book review for my favourite Stone Yard Devotional by Charlotte Wood:
Charlotte Wood’s books opened up a new avenue of reading for me and I really, really, wanted to read this novel. The whole premise, ethos, structure of the story cried out to be read slowly and with feeling. It did deliver emotions, from the characters as well as from me. It was like bobbing along in a small row boat down a tranquil stream then coming to a bridge with pylons difficult to navigate; fast water swirling around rocks; clumps of bullrushes clogging the oars; finally being chased by hissing swans. These, of course, are my similes for the obstacles faced by the nuns who showed calm resilience in the face of adversity. Mainly a horrendous mouse plague which saw their Chapel and retreat overrun by thousands of hungry mice for quite some time. Then there is the arrival of the remains of nun Sister Jenny who died in Thailand and, perhaps the most unsettling, the enigmatic visitor Sister Helen Parry who doesn’t seem to want to leave. In fact it takes awhile to work out why she stays at all.
And still the mice invade everything and eat anything in their path. The religious sect is nameless and the protagonist is unnamed (at least I don’t think she is named) narrating Her role in the produce garden and general surroundings, written in beautiful prose, succinct, moving, observant, showing respect for others and the Monaro plain. On page 161, nun Simone takes Her to task over the way she prays “Praying was a way to interrupt your own habitual thinking” she told me. “It’s admitting yourself into otherness, cracking open your prejudices.” Enigmatic local farmer Richard Gittens helps out although his wife Annette doesn’t really approve. Many vignettes occurred to me to write in my review. Of course the overzealous rodents predominate but it would be difficult and unfair to isolate and convey the undercurrents in this book; the flashbacks, the past catching up with the future, the enlightenment. If asked, I would say this novel is semi-autobiographical. If not, it surely has those universally relatable feelings of loss, regret and the challenging moments which shape us throughout life.
A brilliant example of literary showing-not-telling with quite graphic moments, strange dreams, and egg-laying hens. Coupled with Her past memories it caused me to reflect on my own youth and how I retained snippets of a particular event but regrettably never found out the full story, or the true story behind a family’s grief. In fact, this story is layered with other people’s despair and made me delve into my own preconceived ideas of forgiveness. There is almost a comfort in not knowing the people whom Charlotte Wood weaves through the pages, I read, I understand, but I don’t have to take action. Just like the written characters, pursed lips, a head shake, a tut-tut and let’s move on; our society has been good at looking away for centuries. Through the unnamed narrator, sense has been made of all this and I came to grips with Her world without maudlin sentiment and saw the truth of what transpired in several dysfunctional lives. Perhaps a potential for trigger moments, this is a moving, insightful and significant adult read and holds up well to discussion.
Short bio: Charlotte Wood is the prizewinning author of six novels and three books of non-fiction. A recent book is The Luminous Solution about creativity and the inner life.
After getting the warm-and-fuzzies thinking how lovely that children may still like to talk to Santa on a telephone, I realised how good of Telstra Australia to enabled all its 14,500 payphones nationwide to give free calls to the North Pole for a magical conversation with Santa Claus. Known elsewhere as St. Nicholas, Kris Kringle, Père Noël, Sinterklaas…
Quote “Find the closest payphone by searching ‘Telstra Payphone on Google Maps’, and have a chat with Father Christmas.” Chances are you will find a public phone at your local shopping centre.
It will be fun for the little ones but it will not be a true heart-to-heart chat.
This is where the stylus scratches across my virtual vinyl record.
Why? Because—“This year, Santa has another helper to make the conversation as natural as an everyday conversation: Google Cloud’s set of generative AI solutions.”
An imitation human at this time of year! I think I’ll find a real bloke in the shopping centre, sitting on a gold papier maché throne, sweating inside a red velvet Santa suit. Might even slip him an eggnog and some gingerbread during interval.
Can you be warmed by the voice or a twinkle in an AI’s eye?
They don’t even have proper eyes.
Happy holidays, Enjoy a real cool Yule! ❤ Gretchen Bernet-Ward 2023
A clever and absorbing murder mystery set over Twelve Days of Christmas with every single ingredient mixed in, from the traditional festive food to huge old Endgame House deep in the Yorkshire countryside covered in a heavy layer of Yuletide snow. The characters, the guests, are mostly naughty or nice cousins related to each other, desperate to inherit old Endgame House by winning the long-established family game which takes them through every interesting room in the old house and outside in the grounds.
The Armitage family’s customary Noël treasure hunt takes the form of Anagram clues. This time the game is different; solve the twelve clues, find the twelve keys and the actual deeds to Endgame House are yours. What a prize! Keys are hidden in the most unlikely places. Readers can give it a go but I am hopeless with anagrams so I was content to soak up the vibe. The story is full of unsettling events, twists and turns and held me intrigued until the end.
The atmosphere kept me wondering, who stalks the Endgame halls? Naturally every guest has an opinion, attitude and past memories flecked with jealousy. Protagonist Lily Armitage is the quiet one lacking in confidence who still suffers trauma from her shocking childhood experience in the hedge Maze. She is good at the seeking game but initially has another private reason for being uncomfortable now she’s back in Endgame House.
Everyone remembers the deceased owner Mariana Armitage, Bowie music-lover and creative, who set the Anagram clues for their yearly family challenge. The same cook, Mrs Castle, still works delicious wonders in the kitchen producing meals and adjudicating the supply of clues. True to the trope, when the first party guest is murdered, suspicion begins to take hold but nobody really mourns and the game continues. The priority is to stay alive and not falter when another person is picked off by the killer and added to the ice house.
Living in Australia it is difficult to relate to freezing cold weather at this festive time of year. Nobody can leave because the snow-covered road is impassable and sabotage is suspected. Phone lines are down and their mobiles were taken from them on arrival; I can think of one or two ways to attract attention from the outside world but that would spoil the suspense. Lily is in a perpetual state of fear and determination, she really wants to find out if her mother was actually murdered all those years ago.
More keys found, more slaying and the loss of a Goodreads star (out of five) for a questionable ending as far as I’m concerned. Murder begets murder. I read the hardcover edition which contains family tree, floor plan, wordsearch and author notes. Also I liked the cover artwork and it fitted the criteria for Aussie Lovers of Crime/Mystery/Thriller/Suspense Book Club on Goodreads, a group read for the month of December 2023 which required a Christmas tree on the cover and my suggestion was chosen.🎄
Jingle bells, jolly holly and happy holidays to you!
Thoughts Become Words 