Winter Days

By Trudy Smith

It’s a dry and dusty autumn that we’ve been sent so far I watch the evolution from the comfort of my car As I commute from home to town, I see the landscape change Staying vigilant for kangaroos who roam across their range. We did get rain some weeks ago, a fair drop had by most But nowhere near the deluge that they had down on the coast. Our dam is dry, some dams are low, many larger dams OK And levels will be checked when feeding stock with bales of hay.

It’s a busy time for planting with most farmers sowing now Some paddocks that have been burnt off might get a thorough plough The shearers have been busy but there’s always sheep to shear Some say it’s getting harder to get shearers every year. We’ve had some glorious sunny days with nights now getting cold The clever leaves on deciduous trees have changed from green to gold And acer trees are radiant when their glorious fronds turn red They build a crunchy carpet as their auburn locks are shed.

It’s time to chop up firewood with the trusty old chainsaw On blustery weekend afternoons it drowns out the mowers roar. Dog walks will be much shorter as there’s less time in the day And fewer opportunities to take the kids outside to play. Backyard hens go off the lay leaving less eggs in the box Their bedtime will be earlier to outsmart that wily fox. Migrating birds have come and gone yet the currawong’s call is clear Its chorus from the canopy promising Winter days are near.

Our Backyard: Spike Milligan

By Bob Marshall

Well, it’s Winter again and I think we could do with some humour to help us through the cooler months. “Spike” Milligan was born in 1918 to a British military family in India. After they transferred to South London, young Spike fought the Nazis in Europe before being invalided out. After the war he took up the trumpet full time and then wrote and performed the series that made his name and occasionally broke his sanity throughout the 1950’s — The Goon Show, with Peter Sellars and Harry Secombe.

In the 60’s he had success as a stage and film actor, but by the 70’s, despite some notable successes as an environmental campaigner, he felt overlooked by the BBC. Frail but still active into his eighties, his one-man shows were always sell-out events. His later years were spent in Australia where he lived at Woy Woy. Much of his work was directed towards children and can be found in children’s anthologies today.

The Bongaloo

‘What’s a Bongaloo, Daddy?’ ‘A Bongaloo, Son,’ said I, ‘Is a tall bag of cheese Plus a Chinaman’s knees And the leg of a nanny goat’s eye.’

‘How strange is a Bongaloo, Daddy?’ ‘As strange as strange,’ I replied ‘When the sun’s in the West It appears in a vest Sailing out with the noonday tide.’

‘What shape is a Bongaloo, Daddy?’ ‘The shape, my son, I’ll explain: It’s tall round the nose Which continually grows In the general direct of Spain.’

‘Are you sure there’s a Bongallo, Daddy?’ ‘Am I sure, my Son?’ said I, ‘Why, I’ve seen it, not quite On a dark sunny night Do you think that I’d tell a lie?’

A Man From Out of Space

A man from out of space Said, ‘I’m from a superior race Your all inferior While I am superior.’ Then he tripped and fell his face.