Poor Old Henry

Is trying ad trying to resist from voting for One Nation on the Australian political scene.

Closed

Locked

Night

Door

Locked

Dead latched

Security

On

Adjusted

Window

Fastened

Crimsafed

Checked

Double checked

Bed

Door locked

Key secured

Four lots of protection

Hope that keeps intruders out

Lay

Waiting

For the envelopment of sleep.

The Canadian shooting in Canada elicited the following comment from me

What a terrible and awful event. How can anyone ever tell the end from the beginning

The Australian online moderator would notapprove my comment for publication in the reader’s reactions!

WHY?

Our daughter has given me the okay to share her thoughts on the inroads into life that can be caused by the number one – known but not talked about – killer in Australia. Dementia. 

She shared it with me, and what she wrote moved me into a world of pain and understanding because dementia has not been for me ‘on the outside looking in’ but rather has engaged me directly, in the early stages, without knowing, since its impact on our lives.

Dementia is often mentioned lightly, almost in passing, and without many people knowing or understanding its consequences. I believe many think its mention is a shame job; in the same way as cancer used to be regarded. Dementia is also a scourge that many are reluctant to acknowledge and more than willing to dismiss as not an issue or a concern. 

It is for this reluctance that I would posit that there are far more people sufferingfrom dementia than the number of 450,000 that is suggested. It may well be that the actual number of sufferers is closer to the 1,000,000 mark of people predicted to be inflicted by dementia in 2050.

Funding for dementia programs and support is light on compared with research into other clinical areas. In Australia, funding for dementia programs is solely in the hands of the Federal Government, with no recognition or contribution from state or territory governments.

The impacts of this deleterious condition are eating into the brains of ever increasing numbers of people.

Please read and contemplate what our daughter has written.

Sincerely

Henry Gray

February 14 2026.

__________________________________________

Outside Looking In

My parents are Margaret Rose Gray (nee Martin), born May 28th, 1945, and Henry Maitland Gray, born February 24th, 1946. Their stories are not mine to tell, but I will say they did not have the happiest of childhoods and they both grew up having complicated relationships with their mothers. This led them to moving our family to the remotest areas of the NT when my brothers and I were young.

As parents they were ahead of their time. They seldom yelled or shouted, even more rarely used corporal punishment. Domestic labour and mental load were very evenly divided. We grew up secure in their love for us and for one another.

Things have changed in the last few years. Looking back with the benefit of hindsight the first signs I saw were at my 50th birthday party; nothing so wild that I couldn’t shrug it off as just “weird”.

Mum has dementia. A blanket term used to describe any number of conditions, much the same way cancer is. All with different causes and triggers. Genetic, physical, mental factors, lifestyle influences, environmental conditions. A treatment for one has no effect on another. One person will develop it; their identical twin will not. It has no rhyme, no reason, no mercy.

There are a lot of stats, fact and figures about dementia to be found with a simple google search. The scariest being that it is now the leading cause of death in Australia, that there are no truly effective treatments. Some things might slow the progression of the disease in some people; that is as hopeful as it gets. My father is now Mum’s full-time carer. Trying to find his way in a role no one would ever choose or want, but that has been thrust upon him by cruel fate.

I love both my parents. Respect and admire them more than I can say. They are the kind of people we should all aspire to be. As a person, a spouse and a parent I find myself following the example they set for me. Watching as this disease insinuates itself into every nook and cranny of their lives is an emotional and often overwhelming experience. I am on the outside looking in. I cannot bring myself to imagine what it must be like from the inside looking out.

My Mother

I am blessed to have been one of only a handful of people to truly know my mother. She has always been a deeply private person who hid her wit, her humour and her profound intellect. Now she does not need to hide as she becomes more and more a prisoner in her own mind. The portals that connect her to the world are narrowing; some seem to already have closed. Her eyes and ears collect the stimuli from The Now, but somewhere they become lost and so her mind sends her back to the past or into dream and figments of imagination. At times the dreams become waking terrors, and she sees, feels and hears people and events that are not there and never have been.

On good days she is HER; all the many facets that make up this woman who I love above all. My mother, the grandmother of my children, the wife of my father, the teacher, the mentor, the cook, the seamstress, the confidant, the pianist. All the roles she embraced and made her own. She was shaped by tragic events in her young life; the eldest child of a cold and unloving mother she was parentified from a very young age. Giving all to her younger siblings, especially the sisters favoured by her mother, to allow them to shine. Despite this, my mother was kind and loving. She seldom strayed outside her social comfort zone, but she saw everything around her and those of us fortunate enough to know her would cry with laughter at her stories. Growing up I would spend hours talking with her, often about nothing much at all. By listening to her I learned so much about life and the world and small ways we can act to make them better.

I miss those conversations. Now it can be so difficult to talk to her. She can jump from topic to topic, confuses who I am, how old I am, where we are. I can see her frustration at trying to process and understand what is said to her. There are long pauses and endless stilted silences. And there are so many rules around talking to a person who is trapped within their own mind. Never say “remember”, don’t say “you just said that”, or “you told me already / I told you already”, or “no, that never happened”. I sit and smile and rub her hand and nod and feel like I’m treating my strong, smart mother like a clueless child. Parentified in her youth and now infantilised in her old age.

During the bad moments the conversation is agonisingly restricted and circular. Like a goldfish swimming endless circles around an overly small bowl. Swim, swim, swim …. Oh wow! A rock! …. Swim, swim, swim ….. gosh! A plant! ….. swim, swim, swim …. Look! A rock! …… Even worse is when there is no sound. Mum sits or lies, mostly lies, and stares off into a distance no one else can see. Her lips vibrate, her eyes flicker, her fingers tap together; those seem to be reflexive movements of a body whose mind is both kilometres and decades away. When this happens, I wonder where she is, what memory or dream her mind is playing on its internal screen. Is she happy or sad in there? Sometimes tears run down her face; she doesn’t; cry or sob but the tears run freely and unchecked. If you ask her what is wrong, she doesn’t know, doesn’t realise she is crying.

Mum knows she has dementia, knows what that means. She tells me her mind is “all messed up” and she feels lazy and worthless. She wants to get control of her thoughts back, wants to DO things but doesn’t know how to take the first step. She wants me to tell her (boss her) and make her do things; I can’t tell her how many times I have tried. That Dad tries every day. There are so many diseases that turn the body against itself. Dementia is so much worse. When your brain attacks your mind, ripping and destroying and turning it into a tangle which is then locked inside.

I am scared for her. How hard it is for HER to fight her way to the here and now. How exhausting and terrifying and lonely that must be.

My Father

My father’s world has been turned upside down, shaken, set on fire and the ashes scattered in a storm. He is no longer an equal, a partner, a friend. Now he is a carer. Learning a new vocation, one no one would choose, as he neglects his own needs and wants to care for the woman, he has shared his life with for 60 years.

He can not leave her alone for long lest she needs him or believes she has been abandoned and forgotten. At times Mum resents the interests that steal some small part of Dad’s attention away from her. When she knows his thoughts are elsewhere or he is making arrangements that do not involve her. Then she can be childish and petulant. Her words lash at him to make him feel the pain she carries. Adults protect their loved ones from pain and hurt, children broadcast it until something is done to soothe them and make it go away.

Dad answers Mum’s questions, responds to her comments, explains what is happening and when and why. Over and over and over. He bites back his frustration when she accuses him of holding information from her, schools the expression on his face and the tone of his voice. Soothes, reassures, calms, loves. Above all, he loves.

Dad spends most of his waking hours sitting close by, not so close that Mum might think he is hovering or interfering, but always there when she needs him. He reads and writes and keeps busy, but mostly he keeps watch. Ready to answer her questions, fetch what she needs, help her move to another spot. Dad is a vibrating bundle of suppressed energy, when I’m there I can feel it coming off him. Always on edge and never at rest. He also wants to go out, to see, to converse, to learn, to teach, to laugh. But he stays. Every hour of every day he chooses to stay.

Dad is the strongest, bravest person I know.

Me

I rage at how unfair all of this is. Mum and Dad have lived their lives for others. Both have worked hard since childhood. They gave my brothers and I the very best lives and have done their all to make sure our children enjoy the same. These years of retirement should be about THEM. Living in peace and harmony, pursuing their interests and spending time with one another and family. The first few years of retirement were like that, but now it has become a prison for them both. The iron chains of dementia keep them isolated, even from one another.

It is s unfair for anyone to spend the last years of their lives tortured by mental decline and self-diminishment. It is unfair that anyone must watch a person they love turn inward and become lost in the tangled web of disease that withers their brain. And I am angry! Angry that such a hideous disease should even exist. Angry that science has extended the quantity of our years but can’t maintain the quality of the lives we live in them.

I am ashamed to admit, I am also so, so angry at my mother. The life she has led in the years after her retirement are a “How not to avoid dementia” handbook. No social interactions (she even stopped talking on the phone), no exercise, bad diet. One by one she dropped her activities and hobbies. The piano which we had since forever was packed up and given away, the sewing machine sits dusty and the books are unread. She stopped driving, gave up editing dad’s papers and articles, was no longer interested in the news or quiz shows. If I were granted one wish, I would go back 10 years and do my very best to divert her from the path she so blithely walked down.

I am angry at the rest of us, the immediate family. Myself and my brothers and my father. We let her make these choices and did little to dissuade her. Our family has always been about respect, accepting that the others have the right to make their own choices. Even if we don’t agree. Mum and Dad have always been a team, united, synergy. So forcing choices on mum is not something any of us would have done, it’s not something any of us feel happy about now. Maybe nothing would change, but maybe I would also feel that at least I tried.

For now, we have a lifetime of memories to share and preserve. As many quiet talks, hugs, held hands as we can. Some memories still to make. I have heard of dementia being called The Long Goodbye. Saying goodbye to our loved ones one small piece at a time as the portals between their mind and the world close.

I love you, Mum. You ….. the amazing, complicated, kind, loving, brave, intelligent, hilarious woman I know as my mother …. You will be always in my heart.

Estelle.

These days

I give scant thought to thinking about the past,

It’s challenges, celebrations, defeats, victories,

The despair and euphoria, the downs and ups, the lows and highs.,

That have been part of the hours, days, weeks, months, decades and scores,

Of time traversed.

They are there but dimly

As I contemplate what lies ahead

Around the next corner

Along the road ahead.

I cannot see

But visualise

The foreboding of tomorrow.

Give it to all my children and grandchildren to help them on their journey through life’s world.

If I don’t respond, I am presumed to be dead and no longer entitled to concessions you only get if alive.

Angus is a good man
And it is plain to see
That if he wins the Liberal spill
What a great leader he will be
He is a man of substance
With acute political brain
And as opposition leader
Will cause Albo substantial pain
On his feet in parliament
Acute questions will he ask
Forever keeping government focused on its tasks.
He is the person who could take
(And that is plain to see)
A. rejuvenated coalition
To electoral victory!

COMMENT ON AUSTRALIAN OF THE YEAR 2021 GRACE TAME’S TANT OVER THE RIGHTS OF INTERFADA AT RALLY PROTESTING ISRAELI PRESIDENT HERTOG’S VISIT TO ASUSTRALIA FLLOWING BONDI MASSACRE.

What a let down. What a slight on Australia. What an awful demonstration on un-Australian conduct. What a sad example to young people

The Northern Territory is more aptly expressed as the Alcohol Territory.

The costs associated with alcohol both monetarily and domestically are astronomical.

As the carer for a dementia patient I confirm absolutely the integral and important role filled in supporting people suffering from dementia, by the Northern Territory Memory Clinic situated in the Casuarina  Plaza Building.

At the moment the Memory Clinic has a staff quotient of one full-time Doctor, 1.5 trained and practice nursing staff and some clerical support. The Dementia program in the Northern Territory, including the Memory Clinic, is fully funded by the Commonwealth Government in Canberra. No contribution is made to these important programs by the Northern Territory Government.

I have been given to understand on good authority that from 1 July 2026, Commonwealth funding for Dementia programs in the northern territory will impact upon the Memory Clinic in a very negative fashion. The full-time doctors position will be reduced to a .5 position. The 1.5 nursing positions will reduce to one position only. I believe also the clerical support will be curtailed

If this is the case, then I am very alarmed for the consequences that will flow and the support that will be lost to people desperately needing support.

Currently, the waiting time for attention at the Memory Clinic after referral is around six months. That cannot be extended to a period of even further delay.

Either the Commonwealth government must be persuaded to increase and not decrease funding; in the alternative the Northern Territory Government through its Health Budget needs to provide financial support for this critically important support program.

Home is where the heart is.

This place is our dream home. It has been for almost 40 years.

I thank Nigella Lawson for inspiring me to explore the culinary delights of life.

Very few sitting days every year

It is hard to be happy.

Getting hard to do things and make things

Hard to enjoy food

To plan meals

Hard to keep focussed

To fix on time and timing

Hard not to want what we cannot have

Hard to get back what has gone.

• AI in replacing learning, creates cognitive vacuums in minds.

• Dementia slowly kills the crowns of family trees.

• The ‘system’ allows too many sick and elderly to be fleeced!

• Nursing homes are largely profit centered.

• In debate, focus on messages, not the messengers.

I went to a gathering of old people today. I am an old person and like all old people I am a physical caricature of my formal self.

We might not be brilliant physical replicas but being with a lot of old contemporaries, I realised one thing.

We are wise.

We are also discounted.

And for doing that to us

Younger contemporaries who are full of themselves.

Are foolish.

Because they have to learn the hard way.

• Run around in tight circles, arms out like aeroplane wings and pretending I am a plane landing at the Gibraltar Internstional Airport.
• Jump up and down like a Jack in the Box doing fourteen Toyota leaps.
• Singing the Pringle Song five times and at the top of my voice
• Having a drink of crystal clear water and calming down.

Hettie

Thomas

Bessie

Barney

Matilda

Dorcas

Percival

Edward

Goochie

Olive

Colin – Colsie

Lloyd – Lloyd Wilson

Lorna

Kerry

The dementia groups are the biggest and fastest growing in Australia where dementia is now the number one scourge. That said, it is downplayed and overlooked by Government big time.

Recent reports on how AI is beginning to overwhelm academe and supplant students’ complete cognitive understanding fill me with deep unrest. Have a question or a problem? Ask AI. The clear and distinct danger is that people will make decisions without understanding WHY those outcomes are correct.

Years ago, our daughter passed Year 11 with distinction. Imagine our surprise when she asked to repeat Year 11. She explained that while excelling, she did not understand why she was succeeding; that something was missing within the cognitive equation and learning process. She repeated year eleven, gained the insights she had been missing earlier, was very successful in year 12, then went on to earn excellent tertiary qualifications in the fields of science and education.

Over-reliance on AI to provide solutions that are not in line with the questions asked will lead to an explosion of mediocrity in understanding among professionals and skilled workers.  That will be a catastrophe.

It is one thing to give the correct answers and another to understand why.

I care for my wife

I love her

She has dementia

I care for her and try my best but doubt I do a good enough job.

These days when reflecting I cry a lot.

I have lost interest in me.

Were the care for my wife, whom I love dearly, not so imperative, then J would happily depart this world.

Donald Trump

He is a colossus among mankind

My wife who has dementia, was admitted to RDH recently after spending 14 hours in ED.

She was admitted to a four-bed area in Ward  7a. This is the renal ward. She was in the ward for six days.

It was for her a horrible time of incessant bedlam and noise, shouting, demands of staff, patient resistance to staff effort and entreaty and unpredictable behaviour by patients 24/7.

She was not shifted to a more suitable situation and when discharged it was without her medications which ‘caught up’ when collected 18 hours later. I visited every day from 10.00 am until 7.00 pm when visiting hours finished. 

It took Margo three days to start resetting   and for her the whole experience set her back – all without her major medical matters being finalised.

Note please that my concerns are NOT about staff and care but rather that a particular patient cohort is able to demand so much time and attention often generating from awful to behaviour. The week was one of the very worst we have ever experienced.

The stock market.

Consequences of government policies.

The product of education.

Sports form.

Socio/economic relationships.

Marital bliss.

Weather and climate outcomes.

Personal ambition.

Certainties of the days ahead.

A flat tack

A burst balloon

Weeping eyes

Sad reminiscences

Punctured motivation

Stale and dull head

Deepening hopelessness

Envelopment in the quicksand of despair.

It is getting down to the pointy end of my life. I am 80 this month. They can say what they like and pooh, pooh the notion of age until the cows come home – but I am old and the more I reflect upon the future, the more uncertain and precipitous the world seems to have become.

On my birthday, February 24 2022, the most recent chapter of the Russian War on Ukraine started. I was 76.

Should I live to 81, on 24 February 2026, that conflict will be entering its fifth year. By then China will be in effect en route to Taiwan while the Middle East will be wracked and largely wrecked by conflict.

The world is tearing itself apart.

I feel my vitality withering on the vine of life starved of moisture and feel my spirit drying up inside. I am increasingly overcome by the thickening veil of hopelessness and the world is closing in on me.

I often wonder how far I am from a break: The break that comes at the end of life’s cycle.

Never … but you never know

• There is a possibility and a 60% probability that only 14 people in the world remain unimpaired by the Geoffrey Epstein files revelations.

• There  is a possibility and a very small probability that Vladimir Putin  regrets his tilt at Ukraine.

• There is a possibility and a remote probability that Benjamin Netanyahu and the Ayatollah Khomeini will break bread together.

U

I have.

And now

I am

Tunnelled into

Darkness

With most

Behind

And little

Ahead.

My life,

Feels like the turning point

Of a corkscrew.

Guided by an uncaring hand,

Burning and burying me every deeper,

Into the mass,

And growing density,

Of an unknown substance.

Deeper

And faster,

Turns the hand,

Until the unbearable heat,

Sears deep into the tissues,

Of my mind and inner psyche,

Ripping tearing renting me into fragmentation,

Ceaselessly unendingly until I am reduced,

To a blubbering apology,

Of human wreckage.

• Most inquiries/commissions are reported then archived/lost.

• Dementia is like incurable cancer, slowly and excruciatingly squeezing and dragging you down. 

• Govt policy is shaped by emotion not rational economic logic.

• Life has become an albatross around my neck.

• Old age is increasingly like an abomination.

In the classroom
In the yard,
2026 teaching
It’s so hard,
KPI’s are all the go,
“And what would teachers
REALLY know”,
Cheeky kids
Who have no care,
Deliberately wilful,
Tear at the hair,
The very soul,
Of every teacher,
Now treated like,
Some nasty creature,
Give it up
‘Tis the only way
It’s gone to pot
Says Henry Gray

It is hard to go past the days leading to my retirement in December 2011 after 20 years at Leanyer School. They were days and weeks of nostalgia and reflection, of challenge and celebration. In so many ways, never better.

That is the way it is. All true.

A friend of mine raises a question we should all consider. 

I agree with and share her concern

Hello😊

Wouldn’t it be nice if parents actually taught their kids that we’re not all the same and that it’s actually ok to be different. Children with special needs are not strange!

They want what everyone else wants, to be accepted and happy!!!

How about it

THIS COULD BE FOR YOU

Come and help us stage Australia’s premier cultural event!

Volunteer applications for the 2026 Garma Festival open on Monday 16 February, through GoodCompany.

We’re looking for energetic and enthusiastic people to assist with transportation, ticketing and reception, merchandise, campsite infrastructure and operations, site management, administration and more.

You will also be helping the crew to set up and pack down the site before and after the event, so physical work is involved.

Volunteers need to organise and fund their own travel arrangements to and from Nhulunbuy, and be available to arrive on Saturday 25 July, and depart on Wednesday 5 August. You must be available for all 11 days.

You will also need to do a criminal history check, and obtain a clearance to work with children from NT Worksafe.

Come and join an incredible team of like-minded individuals for an experience like no other. Applications close on Tuesday 31 March.

Stay tuned for more information 🔊

Pic: Peter Eve ~ Yothu Yindi Foundation

#garma #garmafestival #garma2026 #culturalfestival

Donald Trump

One of the bravest, caring and conscientious leaders the free world has ever known.

He is minded a model of mankind.

Donald Trump

The restorer and rebuilder of America, the cater abd the protector of all that is dear to the heart of every patriotic American, the man whose pure and faultless example relights the flame of hope in each spirit and revamps every soul.

Donald Trump.

When I think of Donald Trump, I feel like putty in his hands, to be moulded and shaped by his greatness.

• In patient communication with patients almost non-existent.

• Frenetic hospital pace/ movement masks underpinning inertia.

• Focus on “race” denies socio/economic changes so necessary.

• NDIS offers a profit feast for many providers.

• Dementia is frankenstinian sucking the blood out of life.

I never achieve peace of mind.

I never feel good

The closer I get to the end the more I am disquieted about what the world holds in store for our children and grandchildren.

I never feel people will ever learn from the past.

Blind exhibitionism

Puerile self promotion

Shameless flaunting

Foolish utterances

“Me” in lights

You can eat them whole or do something like this for a yummmmmmy snack

Sausages can be part of quality sandwiches

• 4 Phases  – usually  You: Get born, grow up, get old, die.

• One Nation rising as Coalition fades into history’s penumbra.

• Expectations can be blasted asunder in the blink of an eye. 

• Collegiality and care are discounted values. It’s ’I myself’

•  Constant vigilance is a ‘must’ for dementia carers.

• Dementia reduces living to existing.

• Process and procedure stifle common-sense outcomes.

• Spoken  words are often false, betraying thinking on issues.

• Alas, the dementia mind wanders aimlessly in time and space.

• Asking for ‘sorry’ apologies is farcical, almost a gimmick!

The Shadow Health Minister said that the Liberal Party could win a Federal Election on its own and without the support of any other party.

Not a chance.

A snowball lasting in hell would stand a better chance than the Liberals being successful in solo terms.

Except for a few standout players like Ashleigh Barty, Alex de Minaur and Naomi Osaka, tennis is made up of exceptionally self centred, selfish and opinionated players.

Dismal always downcast . 

The Emergency Department of the Royal Darwin Hospital is the scariest place in the world to visit.

I would and do go only IN THE MOST DIRE OF CIRCUMSTANCES. It is awful with the time taken to have matters attended often taking until the next day.

The place is often overrun by impossible patient behaviour with those shouting the loudest deemed to be ‘priority’, meaning that others are pushed down the queue and sometimes all but forgotten.

Not good – well that is more than an understatement!

PM, VC AND SENTATE MEMBER FOR LINGARI

On a mission for the betterment of the Northern Territory. How blessed we are to have the university, in many respects, marching forward, onward and upward. Dogged determination and fierce positive purpose in every stride.

My wife was discharged from Royal Darwin Hospital late yesterday afternoon after six of the worst days of our lives. It was exhausting, draining, and quite awful for someone who, as a patient, does not yell, scream, remonstrate with staff and incessantly demand attention.

When we arrived home, both of us were so drained and exhausted that we collapsed on our bed, and that has been it for the past 12 or 13 hours.

I have learned a lot about medical management in the past week, and very little of it has done anything other than make me shudder.

Is like into a slow moving and heavily laden goods train with length so long that it is frequently derailed.

When is sometimes so far away that one gets lost in the eons of waiting.

The words ‘express’ and ‘priority’ are distant to all aspects of the hospital other than the emergency department.

These are questions I have asked in various forums from time to time. I have asked them about those who post on LinkedIn. Often, I hear nothing back from those to whom I have replied, with those replies being a response to people who decry the fact that the treatment of and regard Indigenous Australians is insensitive and harmful.

The strong inference is always that fixing the issues has to come from the government, agencies, or a change in attitude by those held accountable by writers.

In this context, my questions were pertinent to ‘The Voice’. There was an assumption that if the Voice was passed into our constitution by the referendum, then all the issues raised around the questions I had – and still have – would somehow be corrected: That without the Voice, there could be no fixing.

I was involved with Aboriginal Education in both WA (1970, 1974/75) and the NT (1975 – 82) as a school leader. With staff, I initiated many programs that greatly benefit children of young ages. I worked to ensure school attendance and had the support of communities.

I have also undertaken formal studies in the field of Indigenous Education.

I add this chronology to point out that my questions are not from someone unaware.

• Why are parents and primary caregivers not looking after their children? Why are parents and caregivers excused from the m looking after their children?

• Why are Elders now apparently powerless when it comes to the management of children and youth within communities?

• Why are non-Indigenous persons deemed wholly responsible for issues about the health and welfare of Indigenous youth and adults?

• Why don’t people take responsibility for their health; why do they blame the health department and other agencies for poor health and illness when a great deal comes from their chosen behaviours? mn

• Why are parents and caregivers not responsible for ensuring their children attend school?

• Why are teachers and the education department blamed when children leave school as functional illiterates when that has been and is the result of them not attending school?

• Why is it deemed racist when issues are raised, and the need for self-responsibility is pointed back to families from where the problems arise?

• Why do some mothers in our country who are pregnant drink alcohol while pregnant, with this leading to FASD issues?

• Why are Indigenous people coming into towns from communities not responsible for their accommodation?

• What happens to those who are victims of crime when it comes to damaged premises, stolen cars and so on?

• Is the need for welfare support occasioned by the expenditure priorities of parents and caregivers who should be providing for children?

• What should happen in the many cases of children and young people roaming the streets and getting into trouble because they feel unsafe at home?

• If agencies take children from unsafe homes, are they not faced with ‘double jeopardy’ because of accusations of stealing children from parents?

• Are responsibilities that should belong to parents being passed to government instrumentalities, with parents and caregivers shrugging and inferring that various government agencies should pick up their commitment?

• Should ANY responsibility for the upbringing of children belong to parents?

• Why is the role parents should play in raising their children at best infrequently raised; are parents excused from any responsibility?

• Do many young people act disruptively because they feel a sense of entitlement because Australia is a country where its First Peoples were first?  Do they feel ‘owed’ by being ‘first’?

Seems like it could well be!

Services reducing.

They seem to be keeping its future under wraps.

I would buy a hospital where patients could recover in peace and quiet, rather than being subject to the constant babble of noise and disquiet that is a part of hospitals these days.

Hospitalisation these days is closer to hell than to healing.

Commentator.

Considerer of agrarian practices.

Carving out an agricultural career at Rocky Gully.

Proud sponsor of Edward Kynaston the founder of “thinking aloud”.

A mentor, pariah, example and great Australian bloke.

I am a very old man.

I would give it all to some aged care mogul to guarantee space and care in one of his aged care homes in exchange for meals and accomodation until I went dead.

Books – lots of books but the ones I want to read:

Australian History by Tony Abbott.

The Machinations about Daniel Andrew’s.

Mark Motlop by Grey Morris.

The Never-ending, Everlasting Ascension of Donald Trump.

Together as one: The Bonding of Vladimir Putin and Vlodomiya Zelenski

Things are bad

Things are crook

I’m all over the place

A mental sook

Out of kilter

Out of whack

If still working

I’d be for the sack

I wonder if

I have been fated

Forever to be

Discombobulated.

One Nation on the upswing – and building on a strong foundation

Donald Trump

Being good

Sinning Not

Honouring parents and elders

Listening to each other

Respecting those who are younger

Focussing on values.

Me

Poor Old Henry.

I

Am all over the place

My

Thinking is confused

By

Life Circumstances.

Over my head

I sense the Sword of Damocles

Hanging

With the sharpest of points

Suspended

By this thinnest of threads.

Vladimir Putin.

Never.

The year after next.

The Shout Theory

The nearby cafe, restaurant and take away food shop,

Wondering how long it will last.

A sudden upturn in medical awareness and a downturn in the expectation of the ongoing routines in life, can have a sudden and dramatic impact upon us all.

Our realisations are pulled up with a sudden jolt.

That is me for the last couple of days.

ALL HUFF, ALL PUFF, NO ACTION

Today

I feel

Like going away

Into a corner

There to

Die.

Donald Trump.

Donald Trump.

One Nation on the upswing – and building on a strong foundaton

The reckoning is over, calculations done.
Without any doubt, the Liberals have gone,
Jumped with conclusion and without hesitation,
Voters give second place in their preference, to the rising One Nation

Donald Trump

Across the top of Scotland from John-o-Groats to the west coast. That was in 1996. The road was a very narrow bitumen strip with passing places every few hundred metres so cars going in opposite directions could pass without collision. The most picturesque road I’ve ever navigated.

DONALD TRUMP

The countenance of DONALD TRUMP

The TRUMP STONE

Donald Trump.

Donald Trump.

It happens year after year after year.

Donald Trump in a phone call with the Norwegian Prime Minister.

Donald Trump

• Dementia reduces living to existing.

• Process and procedure stifle common-sense outcomes.

• Spoken  words are often false, betraying thinking on issues.

• Alas, the dementia mind wanders aimlessly in time and space.

• Asking for ‘sorry’ apologies is farcical, almost a gimmick!

Australian Government. – approved then not approved

The Australian government’s humanity, empathy, and support for those from the Middle East is wonderful. How lucky we are to be governed by an impartial and focused group of outstanding politicians who shun any notion of favouritism toward one group over another.

Will Trump take Greenland?

YES

MORE LIKELY THAN NOT

FOR HE IS NOT A MAN

TO STOP UNTIL HE’S GOT

EVERYTHING HE WANTS

AND NEEDS AND SO I SAY 

THIS BRILLIANT MAN WILL PERSIOST

UNTIL HE GETS HIS WAY.

Closing titles

A great game

The tree tempted Eve in the Garden of Eden.

She sinned

Adam sinned

Evil came into the world

Without the tree

How much different the world would have been.

It could only happen with Donald Trump.

As people age, they become physical caricatures of their younger selves.

I am Henry
I am a man
But from now on
I will change – and I can
Just go to a bureau
And confirm my sex change.
There could be nothing
More easily to arrange.

Memories haunt her

Stability evades her

Satisfaction eludes her

She is here but nowhere

Now here in 2025,

Than there in 1954,

Now with me in the car

Then with her Father in his truck

Home by ourselves today

Then back in sad childhood years,

In Leanyer with our family grown,

Now in their young years in bed

The car

Our Camry 

Where is it, who has borrowed it

Without asking 

No one – it’s in the driveway 

“I have had breakfast

Have I had breakfast

I have put the clothes on the line

Have you brought the washing up yet?”

“Who are you

No you are not Henry

Where is he Dad

I know your voice; you are Henry.”

Uncertainty dominates each day

How will that be as time strips even further

At the soul  case

And the brain-box

Of my beloved. 

Dementia is so f…..g cruel!

My name is Henry
It all counts for naught
Where I was born
Was in the Land of Trespass
A place
Where my parents and theirs
Had no right to impose themselves
Or the generations that follow.

I am guilty by my birth
And guilty of contributing to the birth
Of children.
And they in turn have transgressed
By having children of their own.

What right have we
Those who have gone before
Us
And those who follow
To have any purchase to title in this place?

A place where those who came later,
Wish was back in the hands
Of Aborigines
With their own footprint
Being despised
As bringing shame
Because we interposed ourselves
Into this place of traditional sacredness.

How can we redress the grievous interference
The arrival of our forebears imposed
On the unhurried peace and tranquillity
Of this place
Before the trespass
Of 1788

Paying tax is good, and I am sad,
So many see it as something bad,
Tax is what makes Australia good,
With pollies spending it wisely as they should,
With our contributions safe to their hand,
Our leaders keep this as a promised land,
I am so glad to part with tax money,
To ensure Australia’s milk and honey,
Spreading hope and care to one and all,
This always is our government’s call

Russia don’t mind, Russia don’t care,
About war’s destruction, And people’s despair, 
Wrecking of cities, Pockmarking the land,
Confirms that Russia, Has a hard, hurting hand.

Slaughter don’t matter, Their point to make,
It matters not, that their claims are fake,
Little by little, They’ll claw back the past,
‘Till Russia becomes, ‘United’ at last.
The countries that fled, Their future has gone,
Back to what was, When Russia has won.

This comment was not approved for publication.

I predict that in times to come – and before 2050 – Australia will have a Muslim Prime Minister and that there will be suburbs and areas in which Sharia Law is enforced.

That will happen because state and territory governments will be increasingly made up of those of the Muslim faith who have been voted into office.

And that has a starting point based on acquiescence

IT WAS A STORY AS HORRIBLE AS IT WAS – TO ME – INCOMPREHENSIBLE

What a sad and poignant story was depicted on the front page of Monday’s “Australian” (‘Kumanjayi bashed me, but I loved him’). It is incredible to think that a young girl, a maturing teenager, should feel that her partner had the right to bash her brutally and for long periods. 

How can it be possible, in the way the majority of people view things, for Walker to forgive his partner Rickisha Robertson for the fact that her presence motivated him to abuse and beat her so savagely? 

Robertson’s forgiveness toward Walker, albeit misplaced, is understandable, but his forgiveness of her for being the person she was is beyond comprehension. 

The story reminds me of the fact that in traditional times and before the arrival of Europeans in Australia, Indigenous women were deemed to be the property of men. They were objects men could do with as they saw fit. During my time working in remote areas of WA during the 1970s, the entitlement and possessiveness of girls and women by men was still very much a part of life. 

The worm is turning, but to this day, far too many men regard women and girls as goods and ‘possessions’ to be dealt with as they like. This story confirms just how far we have to go in shedding and hopefully eliminating this thinking and subsequent actions from indigenous and, indeed, from all cultural mores. 

This was not approved for publication

An academic appproved for a major research grant for a questionable project

For this supposed ‘academic’ to be granted $250,000 for curious ‘research’ and after what she has claimed and written (for which Sydney University admonished her) is more than a travesty – it is a squandering of money in a rash and poorly considered manner.

Not Approved

For this academic to be granted $250,000 for research after what she has claimed and written (for which Sydney University admonished her) is more than a travesty – it is a squandering of money in a rash and poorly considered manner.

Not Approved

It is terrific that this academic and researcher, admonished for an earlier indiscretion, has not been thwarted in her pursuance of insights and new knowledge that her grant of $240,000 will support.

Approved

Online newspaper correspondence

On the shooting down of the Azerbaijan  Commercial plane – From a contributor

They were shot down by Russia, who then denied them landing at Grozny, who also degraded the GPS, and then sent them out over the Caspian. There is no troublesome evidence of shrapnel damage if it crashes in the water.

My response was not approved

If that is how it happened, then it was an act of sheer bastardry. Like the shooting down of the Malaysian Airlines plane several years ago – with Russia home free in terms of consequence.

My response approved

This would have been a sad, unintended and tragic accident. I am sure that civil aviation authorities, with empathy and support from Russia, will try to find the cause and alleviate the suffering of those who have lost loved ones. Russia may well offer support to those hospitalised with injuries, for there is a quality of humanitarianism and care for those suffering from accident or injury within the regime.

From online comments made to a newspaper

Pornography

Porn is demeaning to the creators and the viewers.
Porn creates situations leading to debased behaviour.
Porn stimulates acts of violence and inappropriate treatment of others.
Porn lowers the regard held for women.
Porn is a violation of the moral temple.
Porn is about lust, not about love.
Porn promotes evil thoughts and inappropriate physical and sexual habits

Not approved then approved later

Premier of Victoria

I think that Jacinta Allen is a leader who is a danger to the people of the state she leads. Surely these extreme opinions being expressed on gender should be challenged in court. Common sense suggests she is right out of line. Not approved

Premier Allen is to be congratulated on her guardianship of the ‘new morality’age in Victoria. Her vision and farsightedness must be the envy of many without such commitment to making momentous social and economic decisions for the age in which we live. APPROVED

A newspaper response.

I understand the capacity issue. But why can’t I as a person with capacity make a judgment call on my own situation? Why can’t I specify in my Personal Action Plan that if in some future time I decline physically or mentally to an acute non 

-functioning, non-cognitive state, that VAD be entitled under my carer arrangements.  

Of course here in the NT we have a tardy government that sees no reason to be in any hurry to reinstate the entitlement we lost close to three decades ago. 

I have read that in Victoria where VAD is one of the very few pieces of sensible legislation passed in recent years, well over 2,000 people have opted for VAD under legislated entitlement. I’d be willing to bet pounds to peanut shells, that some of those choosing to pass, did so for reasons of cognitive incapacity and not just physical incapability.

I don’t like that my only option is suicide.

Political issues

• There is a possibility but very little probability that Anthony Albanese will invite President Putin on a state visit to Australia.

• There is a possibility and a quite strong probability that Toto Albanese will win the Champion Canine Award at the 2026 Sydney Royal Show.

• There is a possibility and a growing probability that all federal, state and territory coalition leaders will soon be women

Donald Trump

My wife and I have been married for one week less than 57 years. I gave loved and have been moved for each and every day of our journey.

Use the bin.

Do not be a bower bird.

Use a shredder.

Donald Trump

Donald Trump

We are blessed by good government.,
From near and afar
People applaud and clap us,
Say how lucky we are

Albo is my hero,
I’m sure you’ll agree,
We should salute,
And to him bend knee.

I am an old man,
He may well be the last,
Australian PM.
Before I breathe my last.

Old cars are good.
New cars are not.
I love my old car,
The car that I got,
Decades ago and it runs so well,
New ones cost heaps
And are like empty shells.
New fangled ideas,
Leave me stone cold,
That’s why I love,
My car oh also old.

Ribbons of Green

During the 1980s and into the early 1990s, many Darwin schools and some community organisations contributed to the construction of tree belts in the city and suburbs through the Ribbons of Green Program. 

Trees were given to these groups, who undertook to plant and maintain them. The program gave schools and other groups ownership of the greening and beautification of significant areas in both Darwin and Palmerston. Signage acknowledging each school and group was placed in the greening areas under their management. Planting, care and maintenance were the assigned responsibilities. 

With the passage of time, the program was discontinued, signs removed, and the planted trees and other species left to run the gauntlet with nature’s aid. That took away the sense of belonging that schools and sponsoring groups felt about the landscape.  

Nowadays, trees are planted, given a little start with watering, and left to grow in an unrestrained, untended manner. Come cyclones. We reap the consequences, but management plans are never modified or upgraded to prevent future catastrophes.  Surely, change is necessary.

 Classroom teachers, the most vital of all educators when it comes to interfacing with students, feel the weight of expectation because it all comes down to them.

In 2024, the teaching profession was under more pressure than ever to deliver for students.Expectations have been building for years but have never been more pronounced than now. Classroom teachers, the most vital of all educators when it comes to interfacing with students, feel the weight of expectation because it all comes down to them. They carry the prime responsibility (outside the home) for teaching and developing children.

Appreciation is well-hidden

Double-edged expectations are held for teachers and classroom support staff. The system and school leaders anticipate that those working with students will do an outstanding job, reflected in NAPLAN outcomes, PISA results, TER scores, TAFE/VET achievement and a host of other measurable objectives for primary children and secondary students. 

On the other hand, parents and the community expect that teachers will teach in a way th

at results in students achieving quality outcomes, regardless of social and environmental pressures. The constant observation and scrutiny under which educators are placed adds to their burden of accountability. The expectation is front and centre, with appreciation for their actions rarely expressed.

While teachers are celebrated on World Teachers Day each year, this positive recognition is a brief pause in the heavy load of accountability placed squarely on their shoulders. The profession is heavily weighted with expectations, and bouquets are few.

There are many things about teaching as a profession that are misunderstood by the public at large. Neither are these elements considered by the Departments of Education and those within systems that set teacher expectations. The long term confirms this, and the current differentiation of ‘them’ and ‘us’ describes the connection between school-based staff and system administrators. The hardly respectful term ‘carpet-land’ is used by many teachers to express the lack of proximity they feel to those developing curriculum priorities and setting teaching agendas. Departments set school curriculum agendas to meet government whim and societal pressures without considering how this will impact teachers and students.

What they see is the iceberg tip

The work of teachers (and school leaders) reminds me of an iceberg. Only 10% of an iceberg’s mass is visible. The other 90% is hidden beneath the ocean, seen only by marine creatures. In the same way, the work done by teachers and support staff is 10% observable and 90% unseen.

Many believe that classroom teachers work six hours daily, five days a week. This 30-hour working week, reduced by public holidays, is complemented by 12 weeks ‘holiday’ each year. Regarding occupational comparison, our teachers are considered people on ‘Easy Street’. Letters to newspapers and callers to radio talkback programs frequently slate teachers for lack of commitment and care for students. How wrong they are.

A criticism heaped on teachers, support staff, and school leadership teams is that teaching is an easy job, generating far too many rewards. I have heard people say that teachers should go and get themselves a ‘real job’. Letters to newspapers regularly decry teachers as being too well rewarded for the tasks they undertake.

There are some, of course, who appreciate the in-depth nature of teaching and education: sadly, the view that teaching is superficial appears to be held by many people.

Many students and parents appreciate ‘their’ teacher. However, in media releases and public statements about schools and teachers, there are far more brickbats than bouquets. Criticism is often harsh and strident, with acclamation of teaching positives being restricted to acknowledgement on World Teachers’ Day.

What is entailed

Teaching is far more than what is visible to the public. In fact, ‘teaching’ is a small part of the educational equation. Detailed planning, preparation and programming, taking many hours, precede classroom teaching and direct engagement with students.

Beyond teaching, there is the recording of outcomes (testing, measurement and assessment), review and then the considerations of revision and extension. These educational elements go well beyond teacher and pupil interaction in the classroom.

After-hours commitment

weekends and during holidays, will reveal a growing number of parked teachers’ cars. Staff members are inside working on many tasks that embrace the teaching profession. Salary recognises teachers for around 37 hours per week. In real terms, many work upwards of 60 hours during the same period.

Teachers are among the few professional groups not eligible for overtime payments to recognise extra hours at work. Police, firefighters, and nursing staff work to fixed rosters and are reimbursed if extra hours or shifts are worked. This does not happen for teachers in schools. The only person entitled to compensation for extra work may be the school janitor, and only if a pre-agreement has been arranged.

These days, there are more and more meetings in which teachers and staff members are required to participate. Staff and unit meetings, moderation meetings, performance management meetings and many other gatherings have proliferated. Most are held outside the scope of the typical working day and week. 

Teachers organise extended excursions. They coach and manage teams and groups involved in sporting and cultural exchanges of several days’ duration. Preparation for their regular classes before going is part of the deal. They are part of fundraising activities, school council committees and school improvement planning groups. The list goes on.

N Unlike many professionals, educators do not always feel 

they an leave school at work. Program- ming and preparation, marking and updating data onto electronic files, which transfer back to school records, are tasks that move classrooms to lounge rooms at home.

A ‘giving’ profession

Teachers and school staff members should not be knocked. They are selfless, giving and caring. Most teachers are there for others, and without the work they do, our society would be poorer. I believe teaching is the most vital of all professions. It is one of society’s linchpin professions, and those who work within it deserve to be valued and appreciated.

A Rejoicing Profession

I hope that school-based educators will come to feel good about themselves. A distinct worry is that our teachers under-sell and under-appreciate themselves. It is almost as if they expect to be put upon and criticised, accepting this as normative behaviour. That should not be the case. There needs to be a place for joy and rejoicing in the hearts of our teachers, who contribute so much to so many.

At the end of each day, teachers should reflect on their successes and plan for what lies ahead. Reflective, ‘feel good’ times are essential and help build confidence. That can help alleviate the stresses and anxieties that too often build up within the mindset of teachers who feel they have no right to rejoice.

I hope that teachers become more valued and appreciated by the community, by their employment systems and by politicians who set educational agendas. Equally, I hope that educators working in our schools feel professional joy from within.

  One looks back with appreciation to the brilliant teachers but with gratitude to those who touched our human feelings. The curriculum is so much necessary raw material, but warmth is a vital element for the growing plant and the child’s soul.

Carl Jung

Appreciation is the highest form of prayer, for it acknowledges the presence of good wherever you shine the light.

Donald Trump.

Donald Trump

• Optimism about 2026 is like a wafer thin cloud  on a hot day.

• Dementia now Australia’s number one destroyer of human life.

• Is government frightened to call out the scourge of dementia?

• Time to look after your rural community Premier Allen.

• Dementia’s status as Australia’s No 1 killer is kept quiet.

Too late!   

The day you begin,   

Can be the day too late,   

To stop.   

Drugs offer    

A slippery slide,   

A roller coaster ride.   

Up, up, uppers,    

Exhilaration,   

Down, down, downers,    

Plunging despair,   

The crest crashes.     

A yawning trough,   

The pits,   

The only way is up,  

Inject,   

Ingest,     

Force the mortal flesh,   

Reach the mountain top.   

Savour brief sunshine,   

Before you slide,   

Into the abyss of soulless despair.   

That fix,   

That fleeting rise,   

Artificial joy.   

Again the fall,   

That sinking hopelessness.      

Pump your veins,    

Full of shit,   

Rise, rise, rise,   

Between the falls.   

Day,   

Slips into night,   

Until one day,   

You rise no more.   

Forever cast,   

Into nether silence,   

Beyond the grave.   

DOD.   

We’ve come from near and afar,  

Tragic horror where we were,  

Now we are here,  

Across the oceans and the plains,  

Our home regimes were major pains.  

We pawned our jewels,  

Shelled out much money,  

For passage to a land,  

Of milk and honey.  

A land of promise   

We were told,  

Awaits those who cross   

From countries  

Whose birthrights are sold  

On sad regimes  

Which make no sense,  

Anathema to those  

With pounds and pence  

Who oppose autocracy,  

And dream democracy.  

Challenged, spurned, cast adrift,  

We left behind a major rift,    

An ideological chasm so wide,  

It casts us on the other side,  

Of a yawning gulf  

We will never bridge.    

So we arrived  

Down under,  

Was our trip a massive blunder!?  

Herded into compounds like cows,

Men typed as pigs, 

Women as sows!!  

In camps,  

Contained within razor wire.  

We yell,  

“Is Australia ANOTHER living hell??”  

“Justice please,  

Justice” we call,  

Hear us …  

Our despair quells.  

Our plea a prayer,  

Will it fall on deaf ears,  

Raising within,  

Internal fears,  

That we will be moved. 

Back. From whence we came,   

Or worse,   

Oh SHIT!!!  

RETURNED,  

From where we left,

We will face torture,  

Trial,  

And DEATH.  

A couple  

With hungry child,  

Approach the checkout.  

In their trolley,  

Are basic necessities.  

Nothing elaborate,  

Every item one of need.  

They consult the plastic,  

Enter digits,  

Hoping to God   

For the green numbers.  

STRIKE ONE   

“Please re-enter”   

Demands that soulless terminal screen.  

Embarrassing the couple,  

Exposing their shame,  

To fellows winking,  

Thinking,  

“We’re better than them”.  

“Sometimes the card sticks …   

Have another go   

OK?”

Transaction re-entered.  

STRIKE TWO   

Declined again! … then again.

STRIKE THREE!!    

You are out.

Derision haunts the couple,   

Shoppers laugh behind their hands.   

The sad pair,   

Buy meagre items,    

With a handful of coins,    

Loose, forlorn in a bag.  

Biscuits, milk.    

The forlorn child   

Hurriedly tears the packet,  

Gnawing the nourishment,    

Like a hungry rat.   

Whither now?   

God only knows   

Toward what end     

Their forlorn destiny will lead.    

They wander from the precinct,    

Into the nether regions,   

Of near distance.   

Rain falls,   

Lightly from the sky,   

How they wish   

It was manna from Heaven

Ribbons of Green

During the 1980s and into the early 1990s, many Darwin schools and some community organisations contributed to the construction of tree belts in the city and suburbs through the Ribbons of Green Program. 

Trees were given to these groups, who undertook to plant and maintain them. The program gave schools and other groups ownership of the greening and beautification of significant areas in both Darwin and Palmerston. Signage acknowledging each school and group was placed in the greening areas under their management. Planting, care and maintenance were the assigned responsibilities. 

With the passage of time, the program was discontinued, signs removed, and the planted trees and other species left to run the gauntlet with nature’s aid. That took away the sense of belonging that schools and sponsoring groups felt about the landscape.  

Nowadays, trees are planted, given a little start with watering, and left to grow in an unrestrained, untended manner. Come cyclones. We reap the consequences, but management plans are never modified or upgraded to prevent future catastrophes.  Surely, change is necessary.

For many years, I have resisted the idea of becoming a Facebook member.

That had largely to do with the fact that so many people connected to social media accounts had endured a great deal of stress related to bullying and snide, awful comments on social media. As a school principal, I became aware of just how damaging social media can be and how it can be manipulated and used to cause great upset to others.

I have not changed my mind about the damaging and deleterious impacts of social media. Still, my decision now to use this platform has been influenced by the need to access information about a key medical issue that can only be accessed by creating a Facebook account.

I look forward to reacquainting myself with people I know from our time in education and through community involvement over the years.

This is a letter of inquiry, not a complaint. It may be that I am simply behind the eight ball when it comes to modern communication methods.

That said, I can but wonder why, for the past ten years – and possibly longer – I have never been contacted by a councillor who represents the Richardson Ward.

There were several pamphlets left in our mailbox as the election approached, but no follow-up. There have been no visits, phone calls, councillor newsletters, or ward ratepayers meetings called before or after the August 2025 local government election. Apart from the Lord Mayor’s posts, I am unaware of any Facebook communication.

Are our councillors and the council largely non-communicative, or am I not looking in the right places for information?

I know it is wrong

To wish I was dead

Because I have my wife

The love of my life

Afflicted with dementia

For whom I care.

If this was not so,

I would love to bid the world adieu,

And depart

From my depression

And foreclosure

Which is pressing upon me.

I am semi-alive,

But a dim flicker of my former self,

Alive

Only because I am a carer.

The best east snack foods in the world to eat. And so beautifully and symmetrically packaged to eat. Pringles are fit for the Royal snack table. They have a class and a quality of their own.

There are Pringles

Then the rest.

This is a statement included in a Facebook Post. It is plaintive and sincere. As a carer, I can identify with its sentiments.

WHAT IS KNOWN BUT ONLY TALKED ABOUT IN QUIET, ALMOST UNDERCURRENT TERMS, IS THAT DEMENTIA IN THE NUMBER ONE PEOPLE KILLER IN AUSTRALIA. IT PROGRESSIVELY GNAWS AWAY AT SUFFERERS, REDUCING THEM IN HUMAN STATUS TERMS TO SHADOWS OF THE PEOPLE THEY USED TO BE.

Nobody ever asks the carers what we think. We’re the ones in the homes, the hospitals, the waiting rooms, the hospice meetings. We’re the ones watching the decline in real time, not on a chart or in a report. And yet, somehow, we’re the quietest people in the whole dementia conversation. We don’t want sympathy or likes or empty words we want things to change. We want things to be spoken about properly. We want the truth that happens behind closed doors to be acknowledged instead of brushed off like it’s just “old age.”

We want someone somewhere to take dementia seriously, the same way they take other diseases seriously. We want research
We want medicine. We want options. We want answers. We want hope. We’re tired of being told “there’s nothing we can do.” That line breaks a family in half. Carers hear it and feel a part of their heart fall to the floor every single time. Because what do you mean there’s nothing? What do you mean just “manage it”? Why aren’t we fighting for treatments? Why aren’t we talking about prevention? Why aren’t we pushing for better care and more support for the ones who carry this alone?

People act like dementia is just something that “happens when you get old.” No. Dementia is a disease that tears families apart. It steals parents from their children, partners from each other, grandparents from grandkids who will never know who they used to be It destroys independence, personality, dignity It takes everything except the body that’s left behind. And carers are expected to watch that happen quietly to get on with it to not complain, to not break down

But we’re done being quiet.

We want dementia spoken about openly, loudly, honestly. We want carers represented in conversations and decisions. We want funding for research, not just leaflets about “memory loss.” We want medication that slows it down, stops it, helps with the fear, the confusion, the aggression, the shutdown, the decline. We want science to care about this like it cares about everything else we want governments to see the carers who have given up their jobs their sleep their mental health their freedom to keep their loved ones safe

And until that happens, we will keep talking. We will keep telling the truth. We will keep posting, sharing, writing, and shouting because dementia is not rare it’s everywhere behind millions of front doors chewing through families in silence.

Carers are tired not just physically tired emotionally tired, world-tired, tired of waiting for someone to care enough to make a difference. We don’t want to just “manage dementia,” we want to understand it, treat it, slow it down, prevent it, and one day stop it completely.

our loved ones deserve more than just “comfort,” they deserve a future and we as carers deserve to see that future too💜💜

Planning for and construction of schools in the newer Darwin and Palmerston suburbs is long overdue.

When suburbs for Darwin and Palmerston were being planned in the 1970s and early 1980s, the provision of schooling was one of the first priorities taken into account.

In Darwin, schools were built in Karama and Leanyer as soon as suburbs were gazetted. The residential areas developed around their new schools. The same applied in Palmerston. Gray and Driver had Neighbourhood Centres which included schools and childcare facilities available as residents purchased blocks and built their nearby homes.

This policy reassured residents that schooling would be available for children.

Guaranteed local schooling encouraged people to buy property and settle in these new suburbs.

Over time, this policy has changed. Rather than schools (and other necessary community facilities) being among the first constructions, provision is left until all residential blocks are purchased and homes built. Lyons and Muirhead in Darwin are overdue for schools. Hundreds of families have to transport their children to schools at distance from where they live.

This has resulted in Nakara, Wanguri and Leanyer primary schools being oversupplied with students who are living outside their catchment areas.

This policy change has also impacted upon Palmerston. People living in Johnson, Zuccoli and other developing residential areas have to take their children to distant schools. In Palmerston , this has resulted in huge numbers being enrolled at Bakewell and Roseberry Primary Schools. Many of the students are being enrolled from out of these schools catchment areas.

Undoubtably, economics have driven this change. Developers are in a hurry to sell land and construct housing. However it leaves people with limited options for their children.

When families have children being enrolled in schools out of area, their attention and focus is elsewhere. They are not able to contribute to the development of their suburb’s character.

The present policy is leading to our suburban schools, particularly primary schools, becoming larger and larger. Historically, school planning was done with the expectation that schools would grow to a population of 300 to possibly 350. In the schools mentioned, these numbers are being substantially exceeded.

It would be in the interests of community for government and developers to revisit the benefits of making schools one of the first facilities constructed in new residential subdivisions. Leaving schools until the absolute last socially and culturally deprives those living in our newest suburbs.

DEMENTIA:

A MULTIFACED CURSE,
AN INTELLECTUAL AND COGNITIVE DESRROYER,
A PARASITE OF THE BRAIN.

• Dementia washes waves of hesitation that break over the top of confidence.
• Dementia turns a tranquil conscience into a troubled mind.
• Dementia destroys confidence and assurance, substituting doubt and hesitation.

Most children – in fact all children – are well and truly down the miles of Adulthood Road

Their hearts entwine in love so pure,

Rock solid, their love will endure,

From downers, to heady times so high,

Now, always, until they die.

The Lodge is now a nest of love,

O’seen by olive bearing dove,

Peace within, each day serene,

The Lady of the Lodge his Queen.

Everlasting times they’ll share 

Toto will be their Humphrey Bear,

One and one and one make three

Albo, Toto and Jodie.

Thank you, Nigella Lawson, for imbuing within me a capacity to appreciate simple foods.

THE McGRATH FOUNDATION DAY RAISING MONEY FOR CANCER TREATMENT. THIS IS THE 18TH YEAR THE PINK TEST HAS BEEN PART OF THIS FIXTURE.

Anthony Albanese.

One of the biggest drawbacks to education in Australia and one of the biggest challenges faced by schools has to do with teacher training. In a recent column in ‘The Weekend Australian’ (25&26/2) education writer Natasha Bita wrote that universities must learn to lift the quality of teacher training. She wrote that low expectations for teacher training were established decades ago. She was alluding to training of the 1960’s and 1970’s being replaced by degree courses at universities, which concentrated on the degree rather than content instilling teaching methods and teacher readiness for the school classroom.

Bita indicated that  “teacher training is set for a shake up as the federal government prepares to weed out students with poor literacy and lure top ranked school leavers … into classroom teaching.”  

After reading Bita’s column I recalled advice offered Year 11 students at my son’s school toward the end of 1988. Officers from the (then) Commonwealth Department of Education were visiting to advise students on how much application and effort Year 12 would require in order to satisfy tertiary entrance requirements.

The group talked metaphorically, creating an ‘expectational ladder’ for students to contemplate. Top rung students with exceptional TER scores could consider dentistry and medicine. The advisers talked of ‘down the ladder’ scores in the 80 and 70 percentile range. A score of 60 was described as an absolute cut-off, allowing students to consider basic accountancy.

A group member then added, “but if you get less than a score of 60, there is always teaching!”.

This advocacy foisted on Australia far too many graduate teachers who were mediocre at best. The contributions  of good teachers have been diluted by the teaching efforts of mediocre colleagues. Sadly, far too many students have suffered at the hands of inept teachers.  

I am really hoping that universities accept the advice on lifting and strengthening teacher training contained in the review reported upon by Bita.  Heaven knows this cannot happen soon enough.

.With the imposition of an increasing number of barriers to free speech, fewer and fewer people have the confidence to comment freely on issues. Cartoonists have been an exception to this rule. They defy the odds by region, state, country and the world for plying their trade and calling those out who act wrongfully or make shortsighted and crass decisions. 

Good cartoonists honestly and unswervingly highlight the pros and cons of issues. While they may invoke people and personalities into cartoons, they do this to magnify matters about which we should be concerned.

All cartoonists have specific drawing styles, which add to their stamp of communication by caricature. A key ingredient of cartooning is conveying a message so the reader is not left wondering what the cartoon is really about. The cartoonist’s style and relevance make his or her messages meaningful. They take on contentious matters and stimulate debate on issues.

Any law or its interpretation that would stifle the free expression of cartoonists would be a retrograde step. Cartoonists’ freedom to express deep-seated community opinions must be preserved. That right should be as sacrosanct as parliamentary privilege.

But if restriction laws were to be introduced, I am sure cartoonists would defy them and continue their trade of offering us all deep-seated awareness and understanding.

Education has become a ‘too much froth and not enough substance’ plaything. Tinkering excesses by researchers and educators provide novel approaches to learning that are often trite and meaningless.

They then try to fix problems with creative approaches that make matters worse, not better. They can’t leave well alone. 

Get back to what education should be -teaching and learning. For decades, too much ‘froth and bubble’ has been inserted into a rubbery, hopelessly focused curriculum that is now a total mess. 

An agenda that promotes fanciful notions over substance has distorted education’s prime function. Structures and organisations that too often focus on ‘providers’ rather than the intended recipients—children and 

students—have subverted the function of education. 

For the last 30 years, education has become a platform promoting educational gurus, often at the expense of students who become guinea pigs sacrificed at the altar of poorly researched innovations.

Stop tinkering and get back to providing decent, worthwhile education.

I read recently that one should never hold a grudge. This is excellent advice, but for me, there are two exceptions. They were, or are, all politicians who thwarted the Marshall Perron Right to Die Legislation passed by the NT Assembly in 1996.

One of them, Kevin Andrews, has passed away. He was the mover of the private members’ bill, which was passed in the Federal Par”0liament to rescind and void the Marshall Perron legislation.

The second unforgivable is the then Prime Minister John Howard who persuaded the recission bill through the agency of the Andrew’s bill, overruling the NT because we were only a territory.

Fast forward three decades, and appreciate the dreadful situation in which these two ‘visionaries’ have landed us—still no VAD in the NT.

For me, they can never be forgiven

It is stunning beyond belief that Attorney-General Boothby can calmly declare that the introduction of VAD Legislation (Sunday Territorian Jan.3), already delayed by lengthy dual inquiries, will be further delayed until at least mid-year. 

The CLP Government is treating this significant issue, important to many Territorians, as a life-defining decision in a casual, almost cavalier fashion. 

“We will get to it – sometime” is just not a good answer. This delay is made worse by the fact that it is 29 years since the Perron Legislation was federally rescinded.

As the CLP Chief Minister said back then, “the right  to die will eventually come to all states and territories” (Paraphrased).

The one and only true guide and encouraging yet persuasive leader who shares his panoramic vista with all who look and listen –

The Hon. Prime Minister, Anthony Albanese.

Anthony Albanese.

Donald Trump

Donald Trump

Don’t drive to work in Cas no more workers,

Walk to work instead folk,

Save rubber on your tyres friend,

Keep hard-earned in you wallet,

By walking into town.

Populate or perish

Fridge and pantry clean outs never go to waste when birds are allowed to join the food chain as consumers.

• Bondi Royal Conmission is an ABSOLUTE MUST. Keep pressure on.

• Clear speech, eye contact are no longer conversational keys.

• Intergenerational trauma sharper for each new generation.

• So many aspects of NT health care are broken down completely.

• 26/1/2026   – Australia or Invasion Day? The former for me!

Be good

Sin not

Always obey every authority and accept all suggestions.

Respect organised religion

Obey every government edict with subservient compliance.

Learn to think ‘red carpet’ for all very important people.

Dementia is a merciless scourge sowing weeds in the brain.

Dementia clouds once clear minds with kaleidoscopic confusion.

 Dementia strangles laughter, sucks oxygen from merriment.

Dementia is akin to brain cancer. But is not curable.

Dementia – one of Revelation’s seven last incurable plagues?

A colleague of mine, Janice Low, has published this sad but realistic description of the diminishment that comes from this savage disease that kills the brain, on Facebook.

It is sad, poignant and true.

I know. My wife has dementia.

Thank you Nigella Lawson for building my culinary confidence.

Anthony Albanese and Donald Trump.

Donald Trump

Donald Trump.

Donald Trump on his 80th birthday.

Donald Trump.

Donald Trump.

Australia has been quite pedestrian in bowling England out on day two for 384.

Joe Root England’s best with 160 runs.

2026

2025

To be continued

DONALD TRUMP

THE ROYAL COMMISSION MUST HAPPEN, AND OUR PRIME MINISTER MUST FACE UP TO ALL HE AND HIS CABINET HAVE DONE WRONG ON THE ISSUE OF ALLOWING ANTISEMETISM TO BE FOSTERED.

AS ALBANESE SAID, “HATE STARTS WITH SPEECH, AND HE LET IT ALL HAPPEN.

MAKE NO BONES ABOUT IT! HE OWNES WHAT HAPPENED AT BONDI.

A charity in its 18th year I always support.

Having transformed the environment with their expansion and commitment, age is starting to erode the environment and physicality of this toadstool town.

Organisations, similarly, transform ideologies and thinking before they start to fade in the face of a restless public and society looking for new, different, and exciting ideas.

Spreading water as it fell. Leanyer School’s lawn got a good soaking.

Donald Trump.

Donald Trump.

He will be a very busy man for the remainder of his four-year term.

Age creeps up upon us all and engulfes us before our time. Birth, childhood, youth and adulthood are are consumed within its voracious jaws. We are sucked dry as an insect caught in a Venus flytray or victim to the brain-draining voracity of a Preying Mantis and left exposed to rot on the edge of the receding tide of life.

That England comes out of the fifth cricket test in Sydney with its second win in the series. With only three wickets down and the score north of 200, the English team had Australian bowlers looking quite pedestrian.

Donald Trump.

If Venezuela is anything to go by –

Donald Trump.

The community establishes. It’s organisation brainstorms and establishes societal norms.

A colony, is born. An organisation is formed.

And continue until time is given back to the clock.

And continue

The fireworks continue to a harbourside audience of a million people.

The fireworks begin

On the march to midnight./

Once

But not

Now I am

Old, weary and a

Carer for the one who

Is the love of my life

The lady who did me the honour

Of becoming my wife all the way back

57 years ago on January 22nd 1969 to make

Me the happiest man in the state of Western Australia.

Years

Have past

And my love

Has blossomed and grown

Although I am old and

Now fill a new and uncharted

Role in life I will be there

For her as she has always been for

Me our children and grandchildren bit there is little

Time to play the light-hearted and frivolous role of old.

As she has lived for me

I live my life for her.

Back page of the paper

Below is the front page of the paper.

Move the back page to the rear of the front page to see the whole sequenvce. I suggest ‘cut and paste’.

Donald Trump.

May every day bring blessings and success as we surmount challenges and turn them into celebrations.

One day,m indeed, one step at a time.

From brilliance to fade out

All seeing, all hearing, all knowing

DONALD TRUMP

The ‘angle of incidence’ equals the ‘angle of reflection’ unless you’ve are an Archer Fish?

A cake of soap is now called a ‘sensitive skin cream bar’?

Donald Trump.

Donald Trump.

Donald Trump.

Donald Trump.

I hope the year will be one of positivity, fulfilment, blessing and joy.

May challenges be surmounted and bring celebration in their mastery.

May blessings be inclusive of family, work and recreation.

Sitting on the big hill behind our farmhouse and looking down of the panoramic landscape when I was a little boy on our farm in the mid 1950’s – and wondering in my childish way what might lay ahead.

At the age of 79, it seems a distant memory to the time of my looking forward.

Thank you Nigella Lawson for encouraging me to explore the recesses of my mind as I seek to embrace the promises of boundless culinary possibilities.

• Once there was Eden. Now Earth is like a dried up cactus.

• Dare I hope for a better more together Australia in 2026?

• Now back to arson in Melbourne. More talkfest – what else?

• 100 over games will soon outlast an Aust/Eng cricket test.

• Dementia – one of Revelation’s seven last incurable plagues?
• 20

Where to from here I wonder.

The areas of conflict in the world are ever widening.

Peace and prosperity are in ever-shortening supply.

Synergy is dying.

Individualism is growing.

Care for others is lessening.

Poverty is engulfing a world that is evermore populated especially in the third world.

Will 2026 be a resurrection year?