St Basil's is 450 years old today

That's the Cathedral of the Protection of Most Holy Theotokos on the Moat to you who don't know him personally.

I first met Basil in 1971. He was the only real bit of colour in Red Square at that stage, even though looking as if a good scrub wouldn't go amiss. But as he was only just coming out of winter and it was still quite chilly, I forgave him immediately.

I had just travelled half way across the (then) USSR hard class on the Trans Siberian Railway. Tourists didn't do that very often in those days. Soft class wasn't a lot better, but maybe it cost less in bribes to get the carriage conductor to light the fire under the water heater! The water gets quite cold in the middle of Siberia at the end of winter. Not frozen, but almost. That is one reason I understood the hesitance of Basil to have a bath so early in the season!

The USSR was a grey place in those days. Tourism was only starting and then only by the brave and slightly stupid. Travel was STRICTLY according to your visa and NO changes were tolerated.

We introduced a young adventurous couple we met individually on a ship between Yokohama and Nakhodka; he a young recently graduated laywer from the big city of Melbourne and she a young lady travelling with her father (who was on his first return trip to his homeland after many years). They fell for each other and hopped and skipped accross the country by train losing each other and meeting up again as their travel plans crossed. They met up again once out of the USSR, and eventually married, back in Australia.

I visited again in 1974 with our first child in tow; but I am not sure that she would remember the event, even though there are photos to prove it.

Isn't it strange how a little Google doodle brings back memories?

Oh! Happy Birthday Basil!

It's all relative ...

“As the snow flies
On a cold and gray Chicago mornin'
A poor little baby child is born
In the ghetto
And his mama cries
'cause if there's one thing that she don't need
it's another hungry mouth to feed
In the ghetto

People, don't you understand
the child needs a helping hand
or he'll grow to be an angry young man some day
Take a look at you and me,
are we too blind to see,
do we simply turn our heads
and look the other way ...”


Sometimes, even when it is nothing like the song, it's not in the ghetto, and even when it's tough there is love and food and education and family holidays and school and sporting trips ... and the young man grows, and it’s a special day; the last line can still be the same ...

"And his mama cries."

(In the ghetto lyrics by Elvis Presley)

Peace on Earth …Goodwill to All

I personally wish you and yours the very best Christmas, and a healthy new year, filled with successes, good friends, family, and love.

Click on the link below to some photos of Christmas around the world. The last photo in the series will take you to another gallery, with some interesting topics, but the Christmas of Yesteryear is also worth a look.

http://www.news.com.au/gallery/0,,5036617-5014262,00.html

Will we perhaps see the reincarnation of Common Sense? I read the death notice some years ago …

A small smack is not child abuse
By Robyn Riley
(From news.com.au & The Herald Sun)

It is school holiday time, and like many parents I am feeling a little frayed at the edges.

So excuse me if I take on the experts who want to tell parents the right way to discipline their children.

Last week, while on holidays having quality time with the kids, I read about the grandmother who allegedly smacked her grandchild on the bottom for going down a drain pipe. The woman has now lost custody of the child and its three older siblings. The NSW Department of Community Services thinks the children would be better in foster care than with a family member who smacks the bottoms of naughty children.

Has the world gone mad or am I am missing something here?

While I was reading this shocking story, my kids were in a frenzy over some altercation that had quickly snowballed out of control, the way only kids can. On and on it went, until I heard myself shouting at the top of my voice for some peace and common sense. And that's all we can do, isn't it? Shout like a maniac until someone listens, though you have to wonder whether this traumatises both parent and child to a greater degree.

Of course, it was different in our day. Certainly, it was different in the days when the grandmother in the newspaper was a child. Spare the rod and spoil the child was the mantra back then.

I feel terribly sorry for this woman. She has cared for her four grandkids on and off for the last six years as their mother battled drug addiction. Surely she deserves some sympathy, not public humiliation. But some experts say what she allegedly did was unacceptable. I say to them, walk a mile in her shoes.

Bringing up happy, healthy, polite and caring children has never been easy, but it is getting more difficult because of the push for parenting to be so politically correct that there is no room for common sense and gut instinct. I admire the work of Australian Childhood Foundation chief executive Joe Tucci, but I do not support his push for a national ban on smacking. He has pushed for it since a 2006 foundation survey found most people thought smacking was acceptable. Mr Tucci wanted the Government to legislate against parents doing it. But the Australian Family Association argued that laws which meant the Government decided who was and was not a good parent would go too far. Former Queensland premier Peter Beattie dismissed it, saying that a smack on the bum never hurt anybody. And I think that is the belief of many of my generation. Mr Tucci worries that when adults use physical punishment, it's usually because they're frustrated. He believes there's a risk of hurting the child because you're not in control of yourself. Of course there are derelict parents who lash out at their kids, but let's not confuse them with the 99 per cent who only wish to impose some boundaries.

When I was growing up in the 1960s, kids knew that if they behaved badly there would be consequences. Yes, often it was a smack on the bottom. But in all honesty it did us no permanent damage.

I wonder if the same is true of yelling.

Verbal abuse is as destructive as physical abuse. And, yes, in a perfect world parents wouldn't yell or smack, and all children would be little angels.

It doesn't work that way. I am with John Morrissey on this. The Australian Family Association spokesman says there is a big difference between a small smack and hurting or abusing a child. In April, there was a push in Tasmania for a ban on smacking. Children's Commissioner Paul Mason told the ABC that corporal punishment taught children not to get caught and that violence was acceptable in resolving conflict. But doesn't it also teach kids not to repeat the same offence? Doesn't it impose on the child a sense that they've gone over the boundary and need to rein in their behaviour? Of course, I am not supporting child abuse in any form, but there is a profound difference between a reproaching smack and an out-of-control slap or something worse. Most parents understand that, and surely our authorities should as well. Flexibility and common sense are traits of good parents. It's about time the "experts" and the authorities displayed the same attributes.

Monsoon Frog in open water

It is well into the dry season (I will explain about that one time) now, as it officially started 1 May; and ponds are drying up by the day as strong south-easterly winds whip across the land.

Most frogs adopt a type of tropical hibernation at this time of the year. The Monsoon Frog, however, has obviously been able to find somewhere to regularly stretch out those legs, because yesterday he won his age category in the Pee Wees to the Club annual 2.2km open water swim.

It was a particularly blustery day and I know that he tends to like those conditions (most still water swimmers are not keen on choppy seas, but a few years of surf swimming in his “younger days”, combined with his high elbow style helps). He probably would not be too happy about me saying this, but I did notice that his chest puffed out a tad when he found out he was a winner. Action reminiscent of a wet season, melodious singing frog, but that is their throat rather than chest I suppose, isn’t it? Picturesque licence I suppose, but you get the picture.

No picture with the medal around his neck, but one at the finish of the race.



Well swum Monsoon Frog!

Father's Day? Not here

So, it is Father’s Day in the USA today.

Here in Australia, we don’t celebrate Father’s Day until the first Sunday in September. Guess that gives the kids time to save up their hard earned pocket money (do any of them actually earn it these days or is it just a guilt gift from parents who are not “spending” time with them … hmmm...) and not have two heavy outlays in two months, after Mother’s Day in May. There is also time to get the creative juices working again to make that gift. And of course, we have that celebration of the Queen’s Birthday on the second Monday in June (that is the Queen at the Palace in London I am referring to, by the way!)

Anyway, back to the point of Father’s Day. I thought I might put forward a few frivolous thoughts on the subject for those Dads who didn’t get a big celebration today.

· No husband has ever been shot while doing the dishes.
· My idea of housework is to sweep the room with a glance.
· Before you criticize someone, walk a mile in his shoes; that way, if he’s angry, he’ll be a mile away and barefoot.
· Men are from earth. Women are from earth. Deal with it.

And then something which is a bit more thoughtful for Dads out there who are finding it a bit hard sometimes.

May each father see as his role, together with his wife, as being not only the first teacher of their children, but also the very best of teachers, bearing witness to the beliefs and faith by what they say and do.

May each father win the respect and affection of their children, by the caring love, wise direction and good example they lavish on their children.

In return, may children look trustingly to their fathers with respect and love.

I ask this blessing on all fathers, today and always. And all mothers also.