The Virginia Creeper will just have to sustain us now.

Virginia creeper.

All our communal town-houses were originally planted with gardens which included the Virginia-Creeper shown in the above photo. This creeper grows very fast, mainly at night when everyone is sound asleep or if not sleeping, at least inside their dormitories. Originally, our townhouses had a united garden which included the Virginia Creeper. Sadly though, all Virginia creepers were taken out with the excuse that they are known to be destructive. A falsehood was spread that those fast growing climbers would by assaulting and climbing over everything, strangle brick walls and block our much revered and beloved guttering. We, against all advice and scorn of neighbours, held onto our Virginia for dear life, and even if it succeeds in strangling us and our town-house, so be it. It is amazing how gardening is so often seen as OK or mere tolerable as long as it doesn’t take over or threatens our own homes and ‘investment’ as one of our neighbours once uttered.

With last night’s defeat in Australia of the Labor Party to the Liberals against all odds, and the best of News Polls, and predictions, this contemplation of the Virginia-creeper might just have to sustain us for the near future. The near future is not to be taken in vain or too lightly. Perhaps a better phrase might be ‘our twilight years’ as both of us are nearing the eighties and for some things, time is becoming more of the essence. It would have been so nice to  have witnessed an Australia finally coming of an age where change for the better, would override the endless ennui of more of the same. How much longer can we look forward each morning to an Australia where Taxation cuts, Border Controls, sticking to contemplating the past, and Queen Victorian Gun boat diplomacy has to sustain us?

Just think how it now must feel to have for another three years a Scott Morrison as Prime Minister. A man who has on numerous occasions highlighted his belief in Christian faith but at the same time was almost manically keen on locking up for indefinite detention thousands of people who have done no wrong except for trying to escape from wars and bloodshed and look for a safe refuge in Australia. I wonder how those refugees on Manus and Nauru, now well into their sixth year of detention, are feeling today, hearing how their tormenter has been chosen as leader of Australia for another three years?

So much hope was invested in a change of leadership that would finally allow Australia to progress to a more just and fairer society. A society that would be leading in climate change and care for the environment. Today is a day where we celebrate the standing still of Australia. When will we ever learn, that change ought to be embraced even if change might at times fail? It is always better to have tried than not at all. Why is Australia often celebrating the fondness for looking back and clinging to the past? My parents who came here from Holland in 1956 would not be proud today of Australia. They wanted a better future for their children. My wife,  from a very progressive Finland and I with Dutch genes, are almost tempted to book a return to Holland.

We don’t have to look at Holland or Finland for examples of progressive countries. Just look a bit to the side and look to New Zealand. They have a leader that seems to thrive on progress, especially on a social level. Why don’t we look to our Eastern neighbours instead of our much beloved Western US, a nation that is being headed by a morally bereft President man heading his country knee-deep in a moral morass?

It has been New Zealand who offered  several times to take the refugees from Nauru and Manus. Our Australian Prime Minister with his Christian Faith held high on Pharisees  sullied sleeve, heartlessly refused each time. We will just go outside and look at our Virginia creeper. It will have to sustain us till the next time!

My poor country, Australia.

More Words.

Our Garden

It is now quite clear. The garden is reclaiming our house. It started innocently enough with the Virginia creeper crawling up the garage wall without really saying anything. We left it alone knowing the leaves would come down no matter what. It’s burnished gold was pleasing to look at and helped us cope with the chillness of autumn winds. This chillness has now almost become winter but the winds have calmed. In a rebuke to winter I noticed the daffodils are starting to burst through the mulch. The mulch came compliments of a large branch of the Manchurian Pear.

The tree got caught in a tempestuous Willy Willy and it managed to tear off a huge branch. A very large machine was called in which taught the tree a bitter lesson. The branch was fed into this machine which chipped it into a large truckload of mulch. The machine was merciless and you should have heard the screaming protesting wail from the tree branch. All to no avail. I asked the truck to dump the chipped Manchurian tree branch on our parking lot, which it did. This mulch is now feeding the daffodils and jonquils which proves that goodness is often (but not always) eked out of the bad, no matter what.

Reclaiming garden

We had a small shed build in the back yard some 4 years ago after we moved in. Inside this shed are Helvi’s gardening tools including also a bucket full of gardening gloves and several pairs of secateurs. There is a hand mower. The hand mower is lovely to use. It doesn’t have a motor. I could not cope with the noise. The silent rotating blades on this mower is a joy to watch and reminds me of mowers of my youth. There is also a fold-up canvas camping chair. When the sun is out I sometimes sit in that chair, try and soak up a lovely warmth. So does Helvi. We both soak up warmth.

Time passes now with an ever increasing noise of gardening machines and technology. I mean those whipper snippers are really the pits… The autumn has witnessed again the relentless use of those bazooka like leaf blowers. Often people seem to like using those machines. Is it Freudian? I mean they strap them on, march up and down the street, and point hem at the leaves in a revengeful manner. What have those leaves ever done to them? Is it an expression of suffering marital whiplash? Fair enough, but take it out underneath your despairing blankets but not against the innocent leaves or our ears.

We had pasta left over last night. I’ll try and drown it in a mixture of milk, eggs, pepper and salt with lots of formaggio and bake it. That’s it, just wack it into the oven on high heat. The cheese will get brown and crispy. Hoorah!

A bit of peace and quiet goes a long way.