Go away and die

 

Me on my first day in Australia. I was about
20 years younger and 70 pounds lighter.

 

It's been almost 20 years since I spent four months in Australia having the time of my life. I loved that country and I wanted to stay. But a couple years post-9/11 Australia's version of Immigration, the IMMI, was cracking down on all backpackers overstaying their welcome.

Six weeks after this picture was taken, when I was on the other side of the county in Perth, I passed a group of retirees with some tables and signs set up. They were very nice aging Hippie types and they told me they were protesting then Prime Minister Howard's cuts to their version of Medicare.

In 2003, the entire welfare system in Australia, the "dole" seemed pretty robust. They had work programs, universal healthcare, some equivalent to food stamps, etc. Nobody was hungry and the rule was 'only those lay abouts who don't want to take yaka don't work.'

Discarded: Australian Women Over 50

The global Recession in 2009 changed everything and it changed it everywhere. As usual, women over 50 are getting the shit end of the stick.

I miss chickens

In the past, I've had occasion to live in a rural setting with farm critters roaming about. Last time I was down on the farm, was in Australia in 2003. I stayed with an earthworm entrepreneur (I'm so not making this up) at his drafty, sprawling, ranch house 17 miles outside of Perth. He owned chickens (which he neglected), six sheep, a spoiled ugly pitbull and a lovely cat named Bella. There were also emus -- we called them Emu Raiders -- who lumbered into the yard late at night and destroyed clothes lines and trampled laundry. Occasionally they devastated the passionfruit vines and devoured the tomatoes.

But the chickens were the best. They began making that weird groaning noise every morning at 5 a.m. They provided eggs and were diligent bug killers. When I was working in the garden, (which was pretty extensive), they would follow me and if I came across a huntsman spider or a Madagascar cockroach, they would run over and dutifully kill and eat it. One of the chooks as they say in Oz, used to follow me around the neighborhood when I went for walks. She would trail behind me clucking worriedly. It was cute.

I really miss the eggs. And the poultry companionship.