Biology 101

Just because we aren't presently homeschooling doesn't mean I could pass up a valuable learning opportunity. No, siree. Our friends had their steer, Prince, butchered and we came over to watch and lend a hand. Prince had been dressed the day before and had been hanging in cold storage over night.

Here is the mobile butcher's well-stocked truck as seen from our front row seats...



The heart...



A kidney...



Sarabelle packing up some fat...



The team at work at the packing table...



Our friend doing his Rocky Balboa imitation...



And, finally, Bill the Butcher takes a smoko...



After observing the business from the middle stage, and now being somewhat comfortable around large quantities of dead cow, we followed Bill down to the cattle yard to see the first step in the process, the slaughtering and dressing (or undressing, if you will) of another cow.

Sorry, no pictures for you.


I am a great eater of beef, and I believe that does harm to my wit.

-- William Shakespeare (Twelfth Night)

Summer of (Puppy) Love

The flight home was uneventful. Our seven giant checked bags, surprisingly only one of which was actually overweight, were checked all the way through to Cairns. They came out first on the baggage carousel and we cleared Immigration and Customs in less than fifteen minutes.

The minute we arrived home, before all those bags and additional carry-ons could be brought inside, the girls called their friends, the ones with the puppies. We had to go over there immediately. But only immediately after we all took showers, because, for whatever reason, sitting on a plane doing nothing for twenty-plus hours sure can make you stinky.

In one month the puppies tripled in size. All but two of the litter of ten had been snapped up, one male they decided to keep for themselves, and our female. The friends had given her a bath and tied a green organza ribbon around her neck. The oldest daughter introduced me to our new puppy, placed her in my arms, and the little cutie began licking my face. The puppy, not the daughter.

The search for a name began.

First on the list were Zimbabwean names in the native Shona language:

Chipo (gift)
Rufaro (happiness)

...then names with special meaning:

Abeni (we asked for her and we got her)
Ataro (puzzle, upside-down)*
Sisi (born on Sunday)
Shakia (she takes after her mother)
Dafina (gift, treasure)

...and a few literary/historical names:

Sarafina
Nala (queen)
Sheba

...along with Zimbabwean place names:

Harare
Nandi
Dahlia

...names of desirable qualities:

Hasina (good)
Kahfee (quiet)
Safia (pure)
Shakarri (great hunter)
Dara (beautiful)

...and finally, any female African names:

Nia (purpose)
Zuri (beautiful)
Zari (golden)
Shakina (beautiful one)
Asabi (she is of choice birth)
Imani (faith)

No consensus could be reached. A few more lists were consulted and we eventually narrowed it down to:

Mesi (water, and pronounced like Macy) and the name we ultimately went with…

Lulu (pearl)



Not particularly African sounding, but it fits.

With one puppy (Remus) still at the home of our friends, the breeders, and another (Asha) at the home of another best friend of Grice’s, Breeder Mom joked that we, the mothers, will have to schedule “puppy playdates,” an activity she considers very silly and very American.


*When my Witness friend went on about Bible prophesies fitting together like a puzzle, I countered that you could put a puzzle together upside-down and the pieces would still fit but the picture would be blank.


Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all others.

-- Cicero

Gratitude is a sickness suffered by dogs.

-- Joseph Stalin

Hunt and Pack

[ Still adding thank yous below...]

My mission today is to hit the local thrift shops in search of one more giant suitcase -- I sure hope the airlines still allow two checked pieces of luggage per passenger as the two trunks, two enormous backpacks, and large suitcase I presently have stuffed just aren't enough -- and to find Jorge two pair of pants that he just now, after we’ve been here almost an entire month, and with less than twenty-four hours remaining prior to departure, decided he absolutely must have.

Besides of course our hosts, my mother-in-law (Gabby) and my parents (Nana and Papa) who put up with the mess and noise and expense of four extra people for nearly a month, I would like to say thank you (in no particular order) to the following:

The anonymous host of “ed”, the wireless connection that appears in my mother-in-law’s condo when my laptop is placed on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, even if it requires typing and surfing one-handed in a prone position.

The Boca Grande moms and dads who gathered their kids together for a great day at the beach and pool. The kids were glad to see their old classmates.

Betty, for having Elle sleep over. She was so happy to spend some time with you and S and it gave me some much-needed time to get organized.

Diane, for having Grice and Sarabelle over for a couple days and taking them to the homeschool park day, I accomplished a lot in that time, and the extra suitcase is definitely appreciated.

Chris, Housesitter, and now Hostess, Extraordinaire, for all you do but especially for inviting the office over for drinks after work; and everybody who came. It was a treat to see you all. I miss you guys.

Carol, for lunch and the nice visit. Come on down! Seriously.

Robert at Royal India and Gul and Hassan at Istanbul for your hospitality and outstanding food. We really miss being able to drop by for dinner several times a week.

Uncle B and Aunt J for the night at the ballet, the girls had a delightful time. J, we’re so sorry we didn’t have more time to visit with you, hope you’re feeling better soon.

Julie S., you totally pulled it off! Good on ya mate! It was so much fun to get together with you and the girls (and the guys and the boys too.) I haven't laughed so hard in a long time.

Aunt J and Uncle J., for the extra suitcases when the thrift shops didn't pan out. Elle had the best time with Uncle J at lunch Sunday. Be sure to email some pictures!


Hello, I must be going!

-- Phil Collins

Due Time

As my friend Jose whispered to me when a co-worker arrived to an opening night party years ago wearing the same little black dress I'd just purchased from Victoria's Secret, "I guess it's not a secret anymore...!"

The girls and I are here in the States. We came over for Christmas and the girls' summer vacation and have been here since December 17. Poor Jorge couldn't come because he is working two jobs and because he was recently issued a visa that has since expired; to request another so soon might be pushing it. Yes, sometimes it feels like we are being held hostage by the Australian government, but it's all worth it. We had some friends, readers of this blog, to surprise and so only infrequently posted the most general stuff. By the way, Judy, I'm not pregnant, but thanks for the laugh.

Our trip over included one night and most of one day in Narita, Japan, where we visited this Buddhist temple complex. This was a great way to travel: Seven hours to Tokyo, stay in a hotel, sightsee, ten hours to Detroit (I know what you're thinking, I thought the same thing. Detroit?!), stretch the legs, and three short hours to Fort Lauderdale. Practically a hop, skip, and a jump, right?

As if a stop in Japan wasn't exciting enough, Elle lost her first tooth somewhere over Papua New Guinea. The Tooth Fairy managed to track us to our hotel in Japan and left her $1.00 (US.)





Here's Sarabelle getting in the spirit, blessing herself in the giant incense burner's smoke at the temple entrance...



The girls were most enthusiastic to try out their newly acquired Japanese conversational skills. I was admonished several times, instructed to use konnichiwa instead of "hello", domo arigato in place of "thank you", and sayonara for "goodbye", which in my defense resulted in either cheery replies of "Hello!", "Your welcome!", "Bye!", or was the beginning of an incomprehensible, rapid-fire, mostly one-sided dialogue with our only contribution being a bewildered look and a hasty gomen-nasai, or "sorry!"

Sarabelle, our goodwill ambassador, excitedly returned bows to each and every one of the monks who passed by us outside a shrine and we collapsed into giggles when we realized that rather than greeting the Americans, they were probably honoring the statue of Buddah in the doorway directly behind us.



Sarabelle also thinks she would like to be a translator, which, as this sign on the side of our hotel tub clearly indicates, is a wide open field.



Everyone wanted to know if we ate anything interesting while we visited. We had breakfast at the hotel buffet which was mostly Continental, as in Europe, with a few local delicacies thrown in. Every shop window had the most exquisite mystery meals on display, but after snacking on sweet sesame crackers we just weren't hungry. The beer vending machine was especially tempting.






In two more days we head back to Australia. While we have had a wonderful time visiting family, friends, and co-workers, racing around trying to catch up with our dear ones on both the east and west coasts of Florida, and scrambling to retrieve more clothes and books from the green house and the island house, I'm about exhausted. The girls are attending a performance of the Miami City Ballet with their aunt and uncle this evening which entails finding suitable attire for my little redneck children (dresses and ill-fitting shoes on the west coast, jewelry on the east, and stockings or tights still in the package at some unspecified department store.) After that, I'm actually looking forward to sitting for another twenty hours on a plane.

Flying into Lauderdale at the height of the Christmas frenzy was pure culture shock and my impressions best summed up by the reading material chosen to accompanying me back to Oz in my extremely overweight baggage:

The Twilight of American Culture -- One I've already read, and one I look forward to reading again, mostly as a prelude to his follow-up...

Dark Ages America: The Final Phase of Empire -- I have a thing for Morris Berman. He makes me think I'm not crazy.

God's War: A New History of the Crusades -- The Dark Ages and theocracy, still timely subjects.

Dumbing Us Down -- John Taylor Gatto's classic. Again, one I've read before, and one worth a second read.

Homesteading: How to Find New Independence on the Land -- Another classic that's been sitting on my shelves, unread far too long.

Handbook of Nature Study -- This being preferable to the study of the unnaturals I studied in Boca Raton yesterday.

Since Berman postulates that those of us who choose to preserve the finest bits of our culture are the monks we hope pull us through the new dark ages and would include home educators (as well as those of us with small private school plans up our sleeves), I packed the following:

Paideia Proposal: An Educational Manifesto

The Paideia Classroom: Teaching for Understanding

And lest you think my list implies a distaste for American politics, culture, and education -- for the most part you would be correct -- my choices for the bits of American culture not just worth saving, but sharing:

Soul Food: Recipes and Reflections from African-American Churches

Soul Food: Classic Cuisine from the Deep South

John Willingham's World Champion Bar-B-Q

Legends of Texas Barbecue Cookbook: Recipes and Recollections from the Pit Bosses


The World is a book and those who do not travel read only a page.

-- Saint Augustine

Happy New Year

Why haven’t I posted in so long? I’ve got my reasons, which will be revealed in due time.

Christmas Down Under is a wonderful thing: No traffic jams with scowling faces cutting and flipping you off, no crowds shoving and slamming doors in your face. A few stores were modestly decorated, a few houses along the highway too. Only one person we know bothered with a tree. The Cairns Post published a list of typical holiday activities and compared the numbers of those participating to years past. Fewer people, and there were not many to begin with, do Santa Claus or listen to the Queen’s Christmas Day message anymore. Only a few gifts are given and most often those are just for the kids. The big events, the ones that remain high on the participation list, council-hosted street festivities, company parties, and big dinners with friends and family, are the reasons for the season, after all, it’s summertime.

People unafraid of political incorrectness cheerily wished each other a merry Christmas and if you didn’t celebrate that particular event, no worries, it was the thought that counted. Cards were exchanged between the kids at school like valentines instead of a mass-mailing campaign. We’ve enjoyed a number of visits to various neighbors’ houses for some holiday cheer. It's a simple holiday, only nominally resembling our old consumer-driven, overblown, obligatory gift-giving, empty American Christmas and we are loving it.

Aussies are still testing the waters with Halloween, it doesn’t seem to have caught on very much, and obviously they don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, though they are curious about the extra holiday the Americans have sandwiched in between the end of October and their delightfully low-key December 25th affair, and they even have an extra special day added in there, Boxing Day, a quiet sort of government sanctioned re-gifting day, but the big question is: Do Australians ever really cut loose and party? Definitely. First there’s the Melbourne Cup and then there’s New Years Eve. Both involve restaurants, reservations, booze, and fascinators.

As is the case practically every year since we’ve had kids, we stayed home and watched the countdown and chaos on television, and some of us ate a traditional bowl of Hoppin’ John New Year’s Day for good luck, but I’m thinking next year it might be time for a new tradition, maybe a trip down to Sydney to see the fireworks over the harbour.


Holidays are in no sense an alternative to the congestion and bustle of cities and work. Quite the contrary. People look to escape into an intensification of the conditions of ordinary life, into a deliberate aggravation of those conditions: further from nature, nearer to artifice, to abstraction, to total pollution, to well above average levels of stress, pressure, concentration and monotony -- this is the ideal of popular entertainment. No one is interested in overcoming alienation; the point is to plunge into it to the point of ecstasy. That is what holidays are for.

-- Jean Baudrillard


Nothing says holidays like a cheese log.

-- Ellen Degeneres