Yes Ma'am

The Children's Hour

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Between the dark and the daylight,

When the night is beginning to lower,

Comes a pause in the day's occupations,

That is known as the Children's Hour.

I hear in the chamber above me

The patter of little feet,

The sound of a door that is opened,

And voices soft and sweet.

From my study I see in the lamplight,

Descending the broad hall stair,

Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,

And Edith with golden hair.

A whisper, and then a silence:

Yet I know by their merry eyes

They are plotting and planning together

To take me by surprise.

A sudden rush from the stairway,

A sudden raid from the hall!

By three doors left unguarded

They enter my castle wall!

They climb up into my turret

O'er the arms and back of my chair;

If I try to escape, they surround me;

They seem to be everywhere.

They almost devour me with kisses,

Their arms about me entwine,

Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen

In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!

Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,

Because you have scaled the wall,

Such an old mustache as I am

Is not a match for you all!

I have you fast in my fortress,

And will not let you depart,

But put you down into the dungeon

In the round-tower of my heart.

And there will I keep you forever,

Yes, forever and a day,

Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,

And moulder in dust away!

Illustration by Margaret Tarrant (1888-1959)

I came home late from parent-teacher night and the children were meant to be asleep but as usual they were reading in bed and leapt up when they heard the garage door rumble open. They clambered on me and begged to hear what the teachers said.  Charly is greatly enthused by her teacher - a charismatic young man who called me "ma'am"...sigh.  Ro-Ro is excited to be going to the art gallery to see Masterpieces from Paris this term because he knows I'm terribly envious.  Little Wanna wanted a report on what her teacher was wearing and asked if I saw her picture tacked on the wall.  Here's to a year of times tables, spelling practice and Home Readers.  

Application Forms

Today I completed, signed, submitted, processed, reviewed, downloaded, uploaded, saved, filed, copied, faxed, hand delivered, emailed, printed and deleted forms.  I also suggested quite seriously to a colleague that we needed a form to assess the forms.  We'll be working on that in the next month.

I also wrote an official letter in reply to another official letter that I wrote.  A exquisite, perfectly formed bureaucratic circle.    

Cartoon by Jacob Schriftman. 

SYTYCDA Season Three

I am an unabashed amateur fan of dance and have to declare my total addiction to So You Think You Can Dance Australia. Season Three of the show again highlights the agonising physical and emotional demands made on dancers if they wish to succeed in show biz. The profession is a cruel one, unforgiving, with space at the top only for the best of the best. Public adoration doesn't come cheaply.

I think the three judges do an excellent and entertaining job sifting through the wanna-be's and the crazies and gently urging on and encouraging those who have potential but struggle with personal issues, real and imagined. Emotional stamina in a dancer is clearly as critical as their athletic prowess and musicality. Some of the hopeful's stories are extremely moving and I find it compelling viewing.  So do my children who have picked up some snazzy solo and partnered dance moves that they would not have otherwise even contemplated.  My boy giggles bashfully and swings into his Hip-Hop routine; Check It Out Man.  The girls trill-de-trill in spirals with arms aloft.  They waltz with gusto, and grunt on the lifts. 

While it is a basic TV talent quest, the show also gives some bonus exposure to dance as an art form that can be enjoyed across many 'genres', as they say. Great word ! The show's website has a helpful description of the various genres choreographed on the show. Take yer pick.

Afro-Brazilian

Ballet

Ballroom

Bollywood

Boogaloo

Breakdancing

Burlesque

Capoeira

Cha Cha

Clowning

Contemporary

Contemporary Jazz

Disco

Foxtrot

Hip Hop

House

Jazz

Jazz, Funk and Hip Hop

Jive

Krumping (Kingdom of Radically Uplifted Mighty!)

Lambada

Locking

Lyrical

Musical Theatre

Popping

Quickstep

Rumba

Salsa

Samba

Swing

Tango

Tap

Waltz

In the words of the judges, I totally 'buy it'. Love it. Love it. Love it.

... remembering my own recent experience as a' dance mum' with possibly more to come.

Play-back!

Second Week of School

Where do all the teachers go?

by Peter Dixon

Where do all the teachers go

When its four o’clock?

Do they live in houses

And do they wash their socks?

Do they wear pyjamas

And do they watch TV?

And do they pick their noses

The same as you and me?

Do they live with other people

Have they mums and dads?

And were they ever children

And were they ever bad?

Did they ever, never spell right

Did they ever make mistakes?

Were they punished in the corner

If they pinched the chocolate flakes?

Did they ever lose their hymn books

Did they ever leave their greens?

Did they ever scribble on the desk tops

Did they wear old dirty jeans?

I’ll follow one back home today

I’ll find out what they do

Then I’ll put it in a poem

That they can read to you.

Ah my little one, you leave the pre-school years behind you and set off in the rough and tumble, competitive world.  No-one to re-apply your sun-screen, wipe your face or gently usher you through your day.  Big kids, big spaces and bad attitudes.  Navigate your way with care my love. 

Strahan and Queenstown with Dr Abt

We left North-West Tasmania bound for Strahan and the Western Wilderness. The drive took us through Tullah, Roseberry and Zeehan too quickly to do them justice but frankly there were no obvious attractions to lure us off our path. While the towns are still active mining centres they are no longer booming but continue to trade off their glory days in the late 19th century when lead and silver were first discovered there.

We arrived at the Esplanade in Strahan Village and, after much deliberation and helpful advice from the extremely well-run tourism centre, decided upon the West Coast Wilderness Railway - tantalisingly billed as one of the world's great railway journeys.

Well, I don't know about that. A little over-stated in my opinion but I must declare that trains are not my favourite mode of transport. It was nonetheless a fascinating trip through ancient rainforest gorges up and down some of the steepest inclines of any railway in Australia traversing 40 bridges in 35 kilometres.

Once the supply route for the inland copper mines between Queenstown and the port of Strahan, the rail trip today seeks to bring to life the experience of the original builders from the Mt Lyell Mining and Railway Company. This was indeed an amazing engineering feat, handbuilt piece by piece using the unique cog-rail system invented by the Swiss clock-maker, Dr Roman Abt.

What was a more startling revelation was that the two rivers over which the train passes - the King River and its major tributory the Queen River - are arguably Australia's most polluted rivers. From the 1880s, waste water from the Mt Lyell copper mine was disposed into the Queen River and between 1922 and 1995 the tailings (ore-washing residue) was dumped in into it. The fumes from the ore smelter produced acid rain which also leached minerals from the bare Queenstown hills. Both rivers are grey and sick to this day.

Poor old Queenstown too is in a sorry state, and so were we when we arrived, for the second time, late at night.  You see, the rail ticket included a return bus trip to Strahan where our car was parked but ... our accommodation was in Queenstown... so we had to drive straight back. Infuriating!

Queenstown struck us as a despondent place the first time around and was pitch black on our return. The train trundled past delipidated and graffiti covered houses backing the track, and the centre of town was like an out-post in a Wild West movie. But despite these rash first impressions, our accommodation was divine.

We drove up the winding streets to the Federation mansion, Penghana, built in 1898 as the residence for the general manager of the Mt Lyall Mining Company. We occupied two of its six grand bedrooms decorated with period antiques and were served a sumptuous breakfast the next morning in a formal dining room. Quite a contrast to our park cabin the night before. There's just no telling from last minute on-line bookings is there?

View over Queenstown from the then Mt Lyell Mining Company's General Manager's bedroom window.

Back-tracking once again, we made our way next morning on the pilgrim's route to Cradle Mountain - the unmissable destination in Tasmania likened in the tourist blurb to the "ruined remains of a medieval cathedral perched imperiously above the lakes that adorn its base".  I've longed to go there for more than a decade, so head off with big expectations.