DRUNKEN BUSINESS PEOPLE ….

WRITERS LIVE IN PARADISE ….

INTRODUCING……

Today, I have the great pleasure of introducing the very talented Pauline Howard as my guest author. She is not only a prolific writer, naturopath, a carer for animals but also a fierce campaigner for a greener environment. Here is her message for us!

   WHAT RUBBISH!

We all have heard about the plastic debate especially Bisphenol-A (BPA). A chemical banned in many countries but not Australia. BPA is an endocrine disrupter and found in soft drink, beer cans, canned food and baby food. Then there are preservatives and residuals of pesticides and fertilizers used on crops when growing that end up in our food. The chemicals used on farming animals and for growing crops end up in waste water via farm run-off.

Did you know there is a soup-island in the pacific that is comprised of plastic rubbish, known as the Pacific Garbage Patch? It’s a swirling plastic soup in the north pacific gyre. A gyre is an area in the ocean where all currents meet. The garbage patch in the north pacific is the size of Texas.

Did you know that a third of the sea turtles die from rubbish dumped in the oceans? Sea turtles don’t have the ability to vomit. They ingest soft plastic as it looks like jelly fish. As they can’t vomit it stays in their bodies and kills them. Do we really understand the degree of damage rubbish is doing to our planet, our health and the impact on generations to come?

Then there are chemicals that we ingest for pain relief, cholesterol control, maintaining blood pressure diabetes and chemotherapy drugs. All of which are literally flushed out of our bodies and down the toilet.

These drugs even though currently in microscopically proportions are increasing along with the increase in the world’s population. There is close on 300 million community prescriptions a year in Australia, add on top of that the drugs from supermarkets and those brought over the counter. This doesn’t include the thousands of Australians on chemotherapy at any one time.

Apparently there are 4,000 pharmaceuticals used worldwide. Some of these are manufactured in third world countries. This brings another problem from the refuse produced by these manufacturing plants.

Then there are the cleaning products we use to disinfect and clean and bleach and remove stains. These also go down the drain.So what can we do about it? David Suzuki coined the phrase think globally act locally. I believe by giving thought to the impact on our planet from what we do daily will create a collective consciousness. Then as a group we become mindful that for every action there is a reaction.

It’s comforting to know organisations such as The Algalita Marine Research Foundation, offers tickets to see the Pacific Plastic Island for $10,000. An innovative way to raise money for research and clean up.

There is Take 3, an organisation asking beach users to pick up three pieces of rubbish when they leave the beach, which is not theirs. Their slogan is, Take 3 for the Sea.

And let’s not forget Clean Up Australia that happens every year and this year is on the 4th of March 2012.

Making this topic common dialogue and thought is the only way change will constantly occur. If we are not thinking about it then rest assured we will not act on it. Most like to believe they will leave behind a legacy. Let’s not our legacy be pollution. Lets us aspire to be considerate consumers continuously.

PAULINE HOWARD  info@paulinehoward.com

FEEDING SEAGULLS.....

Normally, at the end of my two-week’s trip to Tassieland, I always had at least three hours spare, where I had vacated my motel room and would sit on the beach, trying to relax.

My favourite place is on a grassy hill, overlooking the sandy foreshores and the relentlessly ebbing and flowing of the waters. It never failed to have a calming effect on me. This was very welcome as there was only hectic work awaiting me for me ‘on the mainland’.

Having bought two loaves of bread, I looked out for the seagulls who were flying around me enquiring as to my purpose for being in what they considered as their domain. They went zooming past me, ever closer, clearly intrigued as I was not eating anything; there were no potato chips to be had or any other welcome leftovers, a fact that seemed to add to their confusion.

‘What are you doing here?’ they seemed to cry in their peculiar shrill voices as I slowly unwrapped the first loaf of bread.
Ah, they knew what that was and the swarm thickened. From all directions they came, landing on the sand below me and their expressions were definitely ones showing expectation.

Finally, I threw the first piece of the delicious goodies and they all fluttered and screamed with excitement. It was quickly caught in mid-air by a hungry expert and off it zoomed with its tasty morsel to devour it in isolation and privacy.
The next piece of bread, too, was quickly caught and the third and fourth lumps, too, never reached the ground.
After a while, the first ones came back for more, with their gullets slightly bulging.

There was, of course, eager competition among them, but I had the good feeling of having brought enough for them all. And in order to be just, I kept throwing the pieces in different directions to equalize the feeding chance for everybody.
Throwing the food unexpectedly to one side, gives outsiders a chance to obtain some nourishment and it was amusing to note that some could not believe what the had suddenly caught!

Slowly, I kept breaking off and throwing – there was plenty of time – whilst my thoughts, first in turmoil, narrow down to the job at hand.

The birds now started to reveal personalities with different character and temper.
There was the greedy one, with its gullet already full, fluttering up and taking more bread away from the others. In the end, it didn’t know what do with it as it was already full. Yet it still keeps denying food to others, only to have to drop it somewhere far away.

Then there is the intimidator or stand-over merchant who runs around trying to discourage fellow birds from participating in the feeding. With its big belly and self-confident stance it pecks and pushes its mates till they fly away for a short distance, trying to escape its bullying.

Then, there was the polite one who stood still and waited for a morsel to come flying in its direction, completely relying on my sense of justice. It gratefully accepted a lump of bread I managed to throw right in front of it.

Others had the problem of having to cope with mob rule, that is, whoever caught something had to fly off quickly to a safe place, otherwise a pack of riff-raff would take it out of its beak only to have to continue to fight for it until it has been swallowed up by somebody lucky.

Then, there is the screamer, who believed in making itself noticed. Emitting shrill sounds, it tries to get my attention. Not for it to exert itself, it stands motionless and merely increases its voice to an incredible crescendo. And, if given a piece of nourishment far too big to swallow, it would not share with fellow screamers, but furiously peck everybody coming near.

Another type is the rogue, trying to ram others away with the tackle of an experienced rugby player.

The world around me disappeared as I kept feeding ‘my flock’ and I could clearly identify people I knew in their midst. The boss, union official, politicians, honest workers, friends and traitors, neighbours, and, yes, good colleagues. Of course some would be really offended if they knew how I identified them but this was my private world in which I dwelled happily with my thoughts, emotions and lots of insight. It was a world in which humans and animals merged as they both could be categorised by their character and without any difference!

Deeply absorbed in thoughts, I noticed a unique little bird. It seemed to have two useless legs, paralysed or broken, they looked normal but could not be used. It flew in, landed on its belly but was unable to walk or hop closer to where the action was. It was a scrawny bird, its feathers untidy and it definitely looked very unhappy. Its thin and scruffy neck showed that it had no nourishment for God knows how long and its hungry eyes followed my thrown pieces of bread without being able to do anything about it. Here was I creature desperately in need for a fair share of what others had and I had the power to do something about it!

Directing the bread farther and farther away to my right hand side, the whole flock moved in that direction, anticipating my future throws. That’s when I quickly lobbed a large piece to that crippled bird which gobbled it ravenously into its gullet.
With enraged cries the great flock returned, attempting to prevent this occurrence in the future. And again, I slowly directed my throws to my right side, farther and farther away. When I could not throw any farther, I quickly dropped a large piece in front of the handicapped creature and again if was gratefully accepted and stored away.

I did this a few times, till I noticed the poor creature preening itself, the feathers were tidied up and its beak seemed to move around its skinny body with more energy and zest. It looked around with more interest and its mood had clearly lifted. And with the tip of its beak pointing upwards, its gullet was bulging with sustenance – life was worth living again!

Peter Frederick

http://www.peterfrederick.org http://www.life-on-the-road.com

AUTHORS LIVE IN PARADISE....

Writers live in a paradise of their own making. They merely sit down and commence writing as thoughts are flowing through their mind and are instantly transported into a world of their own! It does not matter what the surroundings look like and unlike the external world, there is nobody interrupting with ‘What are you writing now?’ or reprimanding ‘you don’t need to write that!’ or criticising: ’What a lot of rubbish!’ The writer is master in his own world and as long as there is something to be written down, there is work to be done! The thoughts are literally queuing up in line, waiting for their turn to become reality in form of words.

Sometimes, it is a poem that, like a little ditty, goes round and round in one’s mind, virtually begging to be put on paper. The comparison with music is well founded as the rhymes or rhythm of the consonants can be compared to a melody.

Only recently, I woke up and there was this flow of lyrics in my mind:

There is an island North of Queensland, from the world so far away, native children play on beaches, laughing, in the foaming spray.

On and on flowed these verses, effortless and seemingly inexhaustible, compelling me to write them down and to publish them on this blog site.

Some other times, I have ‘received from somewhere’ a whole story, first in a dream which I noted down immediately in key words. Re-reading it in the morning, everything came back to me, crazy or fairy-tale-like, a story within a story and therefore unusual. Again, I had something to publish!

There are several stories I have written with this method and this method works very well for me.

My first two books ‘Life on The Road’ and ‘On the Road Again’ are recollections from my working live, hilarious and original. All my funny, embarrassing and incredible encounters have been carefully noted down on the very day they happened. As a commercial traveller, I always had, in my early days, a travel typewriter with me -yes, young authors, there was such a thing- and later, a laptop computer. Sometimes, I wrote late into the night, recording the funny situations I had encountered during the day.

Like the day I saw two men dancing on the footpath, however, at closer proximity I discerned a man and his Great Dane. Another time, a show dog had only one testicle and to be able to enter competitions, his owner had arranged for a silicon implant, indistinguishable from the real thing. But, come show day, the judges found this dog with three testicles and a scandal broke. A brand new hospital in a country town had its PVC flooring installed upside down, with the backing up! The town’s people, the architect and other dignitaries were very happy with this installation but wanted to know from me how to remove the advertising message…..Another time, a nerd had built himself the biggest surfboard in the world, so he claimed, an enormous board but extremely light. He invited me to be present at the setting of his world record, only he could not reach the waters as the breeze from the ocean caught the board like a sail and literally kept blowing him back from the beach and across the road where a house gave him some wind protection. Dragging footsteps outside a motel room, combined with heavy breathing and groaning alarmed an elderly spinster inside. In the morning, it turned out to be that of a bull who somehow had left his paddock…On and on came my memories as I worked them into very entertaining books.

Between verses, short stories and my current manuscript, I enjoy the company of like-minded authors giving mutual support and exchanging ideas. Cross-fertilizing each other (in a literary sense!) and try to raise my standard of writing to a new level.

Peter Frederick

http://www.peterfrederick.org

http://www.life-on-the-road.com