Do you come from a land down under?

I love this song. 'Down Under' by Men At Work. Takes me straight back to the '86 America's Cup win when I was in Primary school. The national pride we had then! I knew nothing about yachts or boat races but I knew all about the pride and glory of ripping that cup away from the Americans! The sound of the song is so essentially Australian to me. I love the words, the colloquialisms and local slang used in it. I love that he mouths a swear word as he slides the Kombi door open. I love the stuffed koala. I love that they used the word chunder in a lyric. Can you get any more Aussie than that?

I included the clip with some interesting info overlaid for your educational purposes. Such as, I never knew, until today, that the word zombie was a metaphor for marijuana. See, this blog is nothing if not informative.

So, here down under (sorry, just had to) there has been a legal stoush over a certain part of that song, that has allegedly been plagiarised from a popular Australian children's nursery rhyme. If you are an Aussie, then you'll know what I mean - the 'Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree' song. If you are from elsewhere, it's the flute riff in the song, no words but the tune is veeerrrry similar to this ditty. Watch the little video in this link and there is an example of one followed by the other. You can make up your own mind.

So basically what has happened is that the people who own the rights to this song now have sued the writers of the Men At Work song for plagiarising the melody of their song, which incidentally was written by a schoolteacher some 70 years ago and the rights were purchased after her death some 20 years ago. Now, bear in mind this song was originally written in 1978 and the extra flute riff added the following year. Many Aussies know and love this song, and I, for one, have always assumed that it was the actual 'Kookaburra' melody to be part of this song and loved it all the more for it's clever inclusion. I think I speak for the majority when I say that this was common knowledge.

Now in defense of the song's unique sound, the writers have insisted that the similarity is just that, a coincidence. Of course they should say that, they are being sued. Whatever. They may be telling the God's Honest Truth so help them, and good luck to them. I could care less. However I do read here some sort of admission, and I quote (from the second link)...

'According to court documents, Ham added the riff to the song to inject some "Australian flavor." He admitted he had heard the song while growing up in the country in the late 1950s and was "pretty sure" that Kookaburra was in his school's song book. Judge Jacobsen found that Ham deliberately included the bars from Kookaburra into the flute line, but accepted that Colin Hay didn't realize it was from the nursery rhyme until early in the last decade.'

What cracks me up about this whole thing is that the song is almost 30 years old. So why the legal battle now you ask? Excellent question. Well it's all thanks to a little TV quiz show here we have called Spi.cks and Spe.cks. Upon which the question was asked... well I quote here again

'The show's panelists were asked to name the Australian folksong that could be heard in the popular single which was first released in 1979.
The answer was "Kookaburra," a nursery rhyme written by teacher Marion Sinclair who later entered it into a competition run by the Girl Guides Association of Victoria.'

So it was only after this show aired, where I would imagine at least half of Australians would have been able to correctly answer that question, of something I would have considered fairly common knowledge. It was only then, that the songs "owners" realised this massive slight on their property and decided to pursue legal action. Again I quote from the same article....

'It wasn't until the quiz show in 2007 that Larrikin Managing Director Norman Lurie became aware of the songs' similarities and the potential for a law suit. ....Larrikin is seeking 40 to 60 percent of the royalties earned by "Down Under" in Australia during the last six years, the time limit imposed by Australian law. "Even if we win, they will still have had a free run for some 20-odd years," Larrikin's lawyer Adam Simpson told CNN.'

Hmm. Yes, you sue for all that cash, but I am sure the song's success was not based solely on the inclusion of that little melody in part of the song. Yes, you go right ahead and try and cash in on a song that was successful 30 years ago, but can only gain from royalties for the past 6 years. Jeepers, talk about clogging up our legal system. Maybe they should sue, and have the right to do so. But honestly, if they hadn't picked it up by now, why would they take it on authority from a television show that there was a basis to engage in legal proceedings?

The power of the media, huh?

Really, the only sensible thing to be said in all of this was this, as an afterthought....

' "It's just really a pity that Marion Sinclair, the lady who wrote it, didn't participate in income from the song when the song was at its height in the early 80s," he added'

Yes, I am sure your heart is bleeding that poor Marion misses out on all those dollars. Yes. Be sure and pass your winnings on to her family then, won't you. Sorry, but my BS meter is beeping all over that one.

A rare superpower

Blog This challenge 31 involves your dream super power. How would you use it, how would it change your life? I have thought about this one much since the challenge was issued a couple of days ago. I almost skipped it. I have had a few thoughts about the garden being weed free, the house always being spotless. About flying, about possessing true psychic power, or being able to eat whatever I like and remaining a size 10. Actually becoming a size 10 would be enough! A good dose of common sense as indicated above all round would be good too, the world is a bit short on that sometimes. A dear friend of mine had a t-shirt that said "I make milk. What's your superpower?" which I really liked, and I do that one quite well already.

But I am afraid something has been on my mind alot this week, and whilst it may not fit with the upbeat and fun premise of the challenge, I am going to do this one anyway. So I apologise in advance that this post is going to take a downward turn, be warned and feel free to step away now. I understand.

Children. I would protect out most vulnerable. I wouldn't expect to be able to heal injuries, cure the sick or stop premature death, stillbirth, miscarriage or other terrible losses. Although that would be welcome and amazing of course. But to stop hideous things happening to children before they occur. And this is an achievable goal, if everyone were to work together at it. But I'd happily use my superpower to expedite the process.

Protect children from each other in the form of bullies. Protect them from se.xual predators, child abusers - sometimes in their own families, from neglectful and uncaring parents. There would be no need for respite or foster systems, no shelters or juvenile detention. And there would be no waiting for adoption because children would be identified as at risk or unwanted early and given to the loving arms of people who truly do want them and love them. To be able to save just one Darcey, who's story haunts me still. To save one child from having to go back to an alcoholic mother who thinks it's okay to 'enjoy a drink' (or 5) with her child. To stop that child from ever having to go back to his mothers care. To save some poor little innocents from their own mother or father, the one person who is supposed to be their caretaker and most trusted adult in this world. Give them a chance at life in a world where they know only love and freedom to be a kid.

That would be worth it.

They are wrong, by the way

Wrong. The researchers. This article and this article discussion suggesting that so called 'baby brain' is a myth and any symptoms of forgetfulness or memory issues experienced are merely due to the power of suggestion - that we expect this to happen because of other women warning us of it happening; the urban myth if you like. Or possibly due to sleeplessness.

Have you experienced it? Do you believe it happens?

I have. I do.

Maybe what I have experienced, and many other women experience isn't measurable. After all, how could you predict and emasure for outcomes like a change to they way I type? For example, the way I spelled measure back there. That just happened. Normally I go back and correct things like that. But since my very first pregnancy, this is often how my words come out of my fingers on the keyboard. By the end of this post there will be about 5 to 10 of them, probably more if it turns out as long as I predict. It drives me nuts. You might say I am just a bad typist, and potentially so. But according to that theory it should have been that way since I started touch typing way back in Year 10 and hence I should get better with time and practice, not worse. And Lord knows this blog alone is testament to my practice!! And I haven't gotten worse since that first pregnancy, or better for that matter. I also put spaces in inappropriate places in words. Sometimes I will be thinking of one word and typing a whole other. Like this morning I wanted to type 'where' but when I looked at the screen properly I had typed 'with'.... That occurs alot and never happened before pregnancy.

During pregnancy itself though, I would sometimes struggle to find the right, obvious word. Use 1o different synonyms but not find the correct words. Forgetfulness. Putting keys in the fridge, vegemite in the drawer. I have never been like this, never done things like this before, losing a train of thought. Having one thing in my hand one moment, and then having no idea what I have done with it the next. That is one thing that frustratingly remains. I don't think this random sort of odd behaviours can be tested for or accurately measured. Nor explained merely by lack of sleep. Or that the power of suggestion means I suddenly think it is okay to put my car keys in the letterbox after retrieving my mail. Some things were only experienced by me during pregnancy, but other weird things like the typing phenomenon irritatingly remain.


I do agree that maybe, we as women could pass off some things as forgetfulness to the concept of 'baby brain' too easily. It is a good excuse for absent-mindedness that we can all suffer from from time to time! But I still think there is much anecdotal evidence, and I know that is not nearly scientific enough for the boffins out there. But some of the things I went through drove me crazy until I linked them to the pregnancy. I thought I was losing it, literally, as some days I felt so fuzzy in the head, and I slept fine the whole way through my pregnancies. So lack of sleep was not my problem. And it was not an immediate assumption of mine to blame pregnancy, it took me a while to recognise a possible link, especially first time around as I was otherwise ordinarily so ordinarily fine.

All I know is that what I experienced was real. Definable in symptoms and inexplicable in terms of occurrence. Unless you wanted to count the hormone cocktail swirling around my bloodstream affecting pretty much everything else in my day to day life.

So whilst I think it is a good thing that researchers found that "Not so long ago, pregnancy was confinement and motherhood meant the end of career aspirations (but) our results show that mothers are the intellectual equal of their contemporaries." Great, nobody will think I get dumber with each gestation.

But their testing consisted of "The ANU researchers had recruited 2404 women from the electoral roll, assessing 1241 in 1999, 1126 in 2003 and 1058 in 2007 in four areas of cognition: speed, working memory and immediate and delayed recall" So while I don't dispute that their results they found were accurate and, I am assuming statistically significant, to be all research based about it, and to be happily announcing these results as fact to the community. It doesn't necessarily account for the lapses I refer to, or the quirks where some days memory and word use and comprehension is fine, and the next day it is inexplicably not.

So how to explain all this is covered by the expert at the end...read on..."Victoria Trenouth, a 28-year-old English teacher who became a mother for the first time last month when she gave birth to George Bell, said she suffered from baby brain while pregnant.
''I had a terrible, terrible memory … I couldn't spell, I couldn't get my words out, I couldn't remember what I was saying. I spent 20 minutes trying to have a hot shower and screaming at my husband because I thought there was no hot water and it was on cold and he said try turning the hot tap on.''
Professor Christensen said women who feel they have a cognitive deficit due to ''baby brain'' are possibly experiencing short-term distractions."

Exactly how then, does it help pregnant women who experience 'baby brain' to be told it is all in their head, that they are experiencing short term distractions, to get more sleep and stop listening to old wives tales? How is this helpful? To be patted on the head in such a patronising way? "Women and their partners need to be less automatic in their willingness to attribute common memory lapses to a growing or new baby,'' she said. ''And obstetricians, family doctors and midwives may need to use the findings from this study to promote the fact that 'placenta brain' is not inevitable.

So it's not inevitable. But does that mean then, that it is possible? Why, when pregnancy and it's hormones effects in some way or another pretty much EVERY OTHER body system there is, why wouldn't it, couldn't it effect the brain also. Hmm?



What do you think? Fact or fiction? Stories and evidence please! Or tell me that truly, Alzheimers is setting in early and I'll be on my demented way. Thanks......

New roles - Big Miss and me

It's been a week of new things in our house. My Big Miss started big Girl Kinder yesterday. As opposed to the 3 year old kinder she did last year, we had to make some differentiation, as she is going to the same building, with lots of the same kids, but more hours and with different teachers. I did the proud parent thing and took the camera for the first day photo. A daggy tradition I am determined to uphold. One that, apparently has already become too daggy for a sophisticated up and coming Miss. She reeeaallly didn't want me to, told me she didn't want people to see her, just wanted to get inside. *sigh* it's all happening way too fast.

As an aside, I was making up her snack box and asked her what she wanted in it. she is a fantastic fruit and raw veggie eater, something of which I am immensely proud. Carrots, beans, broccoli, capsicum, even mushroom, which she won't touch if it is cooked. So I asked her what her favourite veggie is..... "cheese" Mmmm. Have some work to do there I see. At least she didn't say chicken!!

So this week I also started in my new role. Teaching. A post grad student in critical care, in the workplace. She does Uni one day a week and works 4 days a week in a supported environment. I remember I was asked about this position a few years ago, and no way did I feel able to do it then. So why this time I felt I could do it was beyond me. Last week I had a nervous fit and thought I knew nothing of relevance to pass on. I have been absent on maternity leave or part time for the past 4 years! What kind of practitioner does that make me? I needed to swot up I felt! All the questions this girl was going to have, all the technical anatomical and physiology explanations she is going to require. All that fresh knowledge she is just gaining and most of mine has been shelved on the 'not used very often in the practical aspect of work' portion of my brain.

And, she is older than me, did I tell you that? I am insecure enough about my knowledge base (internally, externally I present a confidence undeserving of my internal turmoil) enough without that intimidating factor. All this and the fact I hadn't had a chance to meet the poor girl, she was probably just as worried about me knowing all of my scattered work history I have just outlined for you.

Well to cut a long story short. It was fine. She is great. A good solid worker, enthusiastic beyond measure, a sponge for information and she gave me great feedback on my teaching. She gave me feedback. Yes, I will have to step up my game there, and keep up with her feedback requirements but in the meantime I have my confidence back. The zillion questions she asked I could give a great explanation, background and rationale for her and was able to provide her with a couple of excellent learning opportunities on her very first day. Well, they happened along and we jumped right into the midst of it, I can't say I had this poor man deteriorate specifically for our learning needs. But anyway, how often would you get to assist with an intubation (putting in a breathing tube in layman speak) on your first day in ICU?? She won't forget her first day easily, fer sher.

So, in summary, I have made the right decision. I hope she feels the same way. A few extra shifts, the kids coped brilliantly without me, of course. Flexible hours, and some extra dollars won't hurt and it has given me a renewed sense of purpose in my work, which was getting quite dulled with time I must say.

Beautiful

Thanks heaps to Corinne at A Day In The Life for this one. I'd like to thank her also for some blog fodder as I have had nothing lately. No inspiration, no funny stories, no issues I wanna hash out. Zip. So. It's another 'share 7 things' one, and as I feel like I have done a few of these, and really, how many trivial facts could you ever want to read about one person?


But I will say this, beautiful is a word I use often, and hey, it's in my blog title! I use it to describe many things, and it is a lovely word. I like how it rolls off my tongue, and all that it can incorporate when it is used. But I am not beautiful. I don't feel beautiful and I have never been told I am beautiful. And I am honestly, truly okay with that. The DBH tells me I am cute, gorgeous, spunky etc, but he has never used that word. Maybe it's not in his vocab. And that is okay. I did some soul searching a while ago, I learnt alot about me as a person and my place in the world, and came out feeling fine and accepting of my place, my role and social standing if you like. I have seen more attractive people treated differently to me whilst standing right beside me. I have seen the false assumptions people have, and the elevation of social place that can come with being perceived as beautiful. I am not sure I liked what I saw, what other people did in the midst of this so called beauty. Beauty is rewarded in so many ways in our society, so revered, so valued that it has almost lost it's intrinsic innocence. I am just me, doing my best to be beautiful on the cliched inside. But still a worthy endeavour. Phew! A bit deep for this post this morning, I am not sure that is where I meant to head with all that when I started!




So, anyway, all that aside, I will incorporate the beautiful theme and go with 7 things I find to be beautiful....

the smell of summer rain

Image source

waves crashing

eyes

the back of a baby's neck

flowers

fairy lights

Image source

and of course, sparkly stones!

Image source

Hope your day is beautiful like mine is here!

Purging

Toys, that is. Do you do it? Do you feel guilty? Do you involve your kids? I do it, and I am proud! And I am getting really good at it, I must say. I used to have a grace period where I would allow certain toys a chance at life. See if they were played with, and after say 6 or 12 months, then bam! Out they go! That time period now seems to be reducing.

It's easy to purge toys they've grown out, of anyone can do that. Broken? Missing a bit? To the tip for you. Looks like someone could love you still and a charity needs a bag filled? Off you go and don't let the door hit you on the way out. Sure, I am a pro at all that, but filtering the current stuff, now at that I am a whiz. I introduced Big Miss to the idea of charity giving last year. There were tears at first and now she's getting the idea. Mostly she wants to donate Little Miss' stuff so we have some work to do there. Oh, and the didgeridoo she got from some rellies who just did the See Australia By Caravan thing. I didn't get it either, no Caucasian can play the things and as "Our Nic" now knows, women shouldn't be attempting to anyway! So can't blame my Big Miss' rationales there.

I am so slick at this now I have already had a Christmas purge! Is that wrong? I even pinpoint the purge potentials before the wrapping paper hits the floor. Yep, I have a practised eye. I know what constitutes crap a la Golden Arches toys and $2 shop pickups. We have a particular family member who is adept at these gifts, generous to a fault, which is why it slays me that the quality gifts have to be propped up by so much useless Made In China plastic crap. And, oh, relations of mine who are reading, if you are reading, then you know it's not you and should have a fair idea of whom I (bitch) speak about. Given that Big Miss has a birthday in October and then Little Miss a week before Christmas I must admit our 'stuff' intake is high this end of the year and come January I am ready to make room.

I am careful. Anything that isn't out and out rubbish, and I think might be missed gets a hiatus in the study cupboard. After a grace period of about 2 months, or more likely the next time I open the door and it all comes crashing down, I do a reassessment, an occasional retrieve and the rest, they are gone.

Oh, and I do it with kids books too. Under the cover of darkness. It's much harder to do when there are 4 year old eyes witnessing and protesting. I snaffle stuff away out of sight and then pack it all up once they are in bed. There can never be a repeat of the tragedy of 2009 when Big Miss saw the kids books and a few videos I decreed a waste of space and poor reading/viewing entertainment and popped them on Mums Church run Car Boot Sale. Was I ever in trouble. Stern words were used ('Mummy, I am very cross with you. I am really disappointed. Don't' ever do that again..." Yes, your words really do come back to haunt you, I see that now...)

So in stealth mode I rummage, sort assess and conquer. All the while sorting things back into their allocated bag/box/carton/container. A place for everything and everything in it's place, girls. I am like a possessed Mary Poppins, approximately every fortnight, usually on a Friday afternoon when takeaway is a likelihood for dinner and I have fianlly cracked up at the bit and pieces that have spread themselves all over the house, separated from their parent toy. Why do girls toys get so many little bits with everything? Carrots and tiny apples, buckets, brushes and combs for horses. Shoes and handbags for tiny dollies. Clothes and more clothes for baby dolls, bottles, blankies, dolly soft toys (yes even the dolls have toys), clothes for animals ..... it does my head in!

Never let it be said I am a hoarder.

Well I am, but I am getting heaps better at this, I just feel so good after a purge!! My wardrobe is so empty I need to go shopping, so there is motivation to purge there. Next, to the garage; a hideous job but a definite high to be had when finished. And a note for DBH's wardrobe and his circa 1990's t-shirts - it should be quaking in it's proverbial boots!

Australia Day, one day on.....

Image source

Australia Day. One day late, but nevertheless....

I am proud to be Australian. I love our beautiful country. I love the notion of the over used term 'mateship'. I love our relaxed way of living, our outdoors obsession, our sarcastic sense of humour and friendly demeanour. As a rule.


(Meanwhile enjoy some of my favourite scenery shots, all, of course, involving water, can't help myself.)


There are exceptions to this and there have been things happening here lately I am not proud of. Things meant to protect our way of life or something that are not in the spirit of humanity and humility. This makes me sad, and angry, that such individuals can create fear and hatred in a place that should belong to everyone.



We are a multi-cultural country and that is something to be proud of, not feared. Learn from each other, celebrate what it means to be an individual and part of a wider community, and think about all the great food we get to experience because of our international residents. Live and let live.


Image source


On that note, and whilst I am venting, our flag should not be changed. We are still ruled by a monarchy and until (if ever) we become a Republic then changing the flag is a moot point in my opinion. If we were to change it the only alteration I would like to see would be the incorporation of the Aboriginal flag. Maybe pop the Southern Cross on to that. Or replace the Union Jack with it. But I am sure our indigenous people would object to that too. In the meantime, the flag means something important to all those that serve, served and died under it. Even the sports people who compete and play under it. It means something and shouldn't be changed willy-nilly because some journalist come celebrity figure thinks so. Go away silly man. Stop using our National Day to further your own cause.


In the meantime, I found this interesting site about the rules and etiquette for displaying and flying our flag. Now I know why some of the Old Diggers were said to be turning in their graves at the sight of young people draping themselves in the flag at sports events and so forth. And now you can impress your nearest and dearest with the fact that there is an Australian National Flag Association... see this blog is nothing if not informative!




Australia Day in our house means a barbie with friends or family, here or elsewhere. The Australian Open tennis on the telly, regrettably interspersed with my most un-favourite, boring of sports, cricket. (Okay, so I hate boxing, wrestling, all types of contact injure-the-other contestant and knock em down sports really. But cricket is so tiresome, I cannot understand the interest at all! And am totally unwilling to learn!) It means a pavlova for dessert and maybe some Anzac bikkies to really mix my public holidays up. It means blue skies, warm sunshine, flies in the house, thongs and shorts. Kids in the paddling pool (rainwater tank filled of course...), dog eating the scraps, the blokes with a beer and finished off with a hot cup of tea, preferably Daintree tea, the best leaf tea there is.




Hope you Aussies enjoyed the day in your own way and took a moment to remember just how fortunate we are to live here. Cheers!