If you see me commuting by train this week – oh yes, I’m a train commuter now – you’ll spot me reading an ancient book my mother owned.
Billabong’s Daughter by Mary Grant Bruce.
I love the Billabong books but these days they are a bit politically incorrect.
Make that very non PC and I think the newer editions have been… sanitised.
It’s about a station in northern Victoria (I think) just after the First World War and the story is about the squatter Jim Linton and his family.
They act like the upper class might in England, dispensing largess to the lesser well off or should that be ‘orf’.
Far different to squatters of today who (for the most part) are the lesser well off.
There’s lots of cattle mustering and you do get a feel for the country back at the turn of the last century.
They are… quaint… I guess and part of the attraction to me is the fact that my mum used to love them when she was a gel.
Commuting with Billabong has been great so far, although the walk home can be a bit warm.
The five day liquid only diet has come to an end.
I’m not sure I’ll willingly do it again.
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And I don’t think I’ve lost any weight which I’m disappointed in. I rather hoped I might kick off my new year a bit slimmer. Sigh.
Work has been busy but I must confess sitting the heat out in office air-conditioning has been pleasant.
On the last Sunday before I had to go back to work I went out for drinks at Salt, down at Port Beach with some friends.
The liquid-only diet doesn’t preclude alcohol but I did limit myself to just the one beer. 🙂
We met this couple nearly ten years ago in Bali – we scabbed a lift to Club Med with them – and since then we’ve become close friends.
Salt is great on a sunny Sunday afternoon. They have someone singing… the food is (looks) great and the beer is cold.
They style themselves as a nano-brewery and I tried the wheat beer – the Heifweisen (or something like that).
I enjoyed it.
Next time I want to try the pizza.
I think it’s a real shame how old books and movies are “sanitised” in the name of political correctness. Often enough it ruins the story to the point where people don’t want to read or watch. It also has the side effect of ever-so-slightly modernising a story which just isn’t right when you’re reading something that was set in an earlier century. If you know your history, you just know things didn’t really happen the way they are now depicted. Life was tougher and rougher then, and in books set in those eras, it should be allowed to be shown as such.
P.S. How else will people know how far we’ve changed?