Bad News Week

This week hasn’t been a good news week for women. A lady in the Sudan is on death row because she became a Christian. Her mother is Christian and her father is Muslim. She married a Christian man and converted. That action earned her the death penalty. She wasn’t executed straight away because she was 8 months pregnant with her second child. The authorities have been “gracious” and have “kindly” allowed her to give birth first. She can nurse the child (a girl) for two years and then she will be executed. Her little boy is living in the jail with her. Her husband isn’t allowed to visit. I cannot imagine what this lady must be feeling but I imagine it is a living nightmare for her and her family. In Pakistan another young...

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A mixed-feelings sort of day

It’s the crack of dawn (9.15 am) and I’ve been up since 8. I’ve been awake since 7.00 but I kept hoping sleep would reclaim me. We’re having a garage sale. I’ve discovered that there are an inordinate amount of people who are loud and cheerful, very early in the morning. They are an alien species to me. The Old Boy’s parents have both moved into a nursing home/aged care facility and our living areas have been chokkas with their furniture, contents of their bookcases and other bits and pieces. We’ve managed to sell some of it for them by advertising in the paper. Now, today, we’re hoping (praying) we’ll unload the rest. We’re also taking advantage of the moment and have stripped our bookcases back to...

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A beautiful life

I went to a memorial service the other day for a 35 year old young man. He had mental health issues. He was unable to hold down a job, so he didn’t have much money. His mind often went on strange, intriguing flights of fancy, so his role in society was limited. Many people would say that he had a difficult life. Many people would have felt sorry for him. But, he had a passion for life that drove him to enjoy the moment. He loved to stand out in the rain, even if there was thunder and lightning, because it was exciting to feel the water on his face. He loved to garden and tended his plants with utmost care and devotion. In fact he gave his plants and his cat far more attention than he gave himself. He loved people and they loved him. At the service a number...

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Not on my watch.

I’m sure, dear readers, that you’re all appalled, dismayed and disgusted by the kidnapping of the Nigerian school girls. From what I’ve read about the situation, I gather the only unusual thing about this (for Nigeria) is the number. It’s not the first time this has happened in this country, and not just to girls. I gather getting an education in Nigeria is a high risk activity. A number of schools have been burnt down and lots of children – boys and girls – have been killed. This is a country that is barely hanging on to any sense of law and order. I heard an expert on Nigerian affairs speaking about the latest atrocity. He said that for the group that took the girls (Boko Haram, which means ‘Western education is...

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Lark or owl?

I don’t do mornings. If I’m forced to do them, I don’t do them well. I find it particularly difficult in the cooler months of the year when it’s darker for longer. I just think that if the sun hasn’t bothered to get up yet, then why should I. I’ve always been this way, even as a child. For example, my mother would have to wake me up on Christmas Day because I was keeping the family waiting to open the presents. The first couple of classes at school were ¬†always a bit of a foggy blur. I was often accused of day-dreaming. I can guarantee that if it was in the afternoon, they were probably right, but if it was in the morning it was more likely that I hadn’t yet fully woken up. Things improved by my late teens because I...

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