Attack of the killer moths

Moth 1

Well, maybe they aren’t killer moths, but they are jolly huge. At least 10 centimetres (4 inches) from wing tip to wing tip. They hover outside the screen door, peak time being the early morning. A soon, as we open the screen door to allow Augie out to his yard they zoom through the opening. One busy morning, four of the beasties made it through the portal.

This morning I found one trying to hide in the kitchen sink! It was despatched with insect spray. No mercy to any insect that enters my castle!

If left to their own devices they crash and bash about the room, gradually building in confidence until they commence dive-bombing victims.

Once sent to that great moth heaven in the sky, we have to race with pan and brush to deliver to the bin, before Augie decides to make them a new toy or an after breakfast delight.

Moth 1

That said, despite their kamikaze tendencies and lack of  “pretty” colourings, the patterns on their wings are quite intricate and rather delicate. A thing of beauty.

They just need to stay where The Big Whatever meant them to be – not in my house!

 

 

My cathedral

In need of restoration from the work week, I stood on our patio and soaked in the elements of a private cathedral, our garden. Filled with scents, colours and bird song, it is more religion to me than any man made structure of bricks and mortar, or declaration of man.

Augie Dog by my side, relaxed under the influence of our garden, sank,  stretching out, as the magic of nature entwined us. Restored us.

Saturday morning, the rains have come. Mr FD is away, caring for his old Uncle who can no longer be left alone, and yet will not accept help. I feel sorry for Uncle, who is suffering the loss of his life to dementia, but also for Mr FD who has to deal with resistant, anger and denial every minute he is trying to assist Uncle.

Another tough week. School is more like a war zone these days. Students kick holes in walls, and another of our couches has been cut. Teachers with decades of experience working with children have declared this present cohort of students, particularly the years 7 and 8, as some of the most destructive and ill-behaved of their careers. Not a proud branding.

New gardens were constructed to soften and beautify the grounds and just days into the plantings, students are not only crashing through the gardens, but actively pulling the plants out. Why would they even bother? What unruly anger is within these young people? Such self centred, disrespect.

Parents who do not respect, are growing children who do not respect. Then add the ingredient of the influence of social media and young people feeling the pressure to out perform, one up, to achieve constant attention. Self absorbed is their middle name. Mobile phones in school are weapons of destruction.

My personal battle was added to this week. A male student who was asked not to enter the library as we had no space left and as he had stated he didn’t need to use the library for study or assessment, he merely wanted to “chill out”. Within minutes he was on the mobile phone to his mother declaring he was barred from the Library. Returning from class I was informed Mummy had rang to complain. Of course her precious son had told the truth!

Mothers, do not enter into every issue your child has. Let them own their own behaviour, suffer their own consequences and learn resilience. The energy that these selfish student mistruths suck from teachers, means that students who have real issues, urgent needs, sometimes life and death issues, have to wait longer for assistance. Remember the mantra, “Don’t sweat the small stuff?” Well, apply it to your children and let us do our real jobs. Do your job as parent.

Then maybe I can enjoy my cathedral for its beauty and no just for its healing.

Being a bird brain may be okay

bird brain 1

Mr FD spent an amusing twenty minutes watching three baby birds play in our garden.

One chick would roll itself into a fluffy ball and roll about the lawn. Another was a little more creative, throwing itself onto its back, legs ramrod straight, and played dead; until its siblings came near to investigate and then it would jump at them! A jokester in every family!

Mother Bird tolerated the later behaviour for several minutes until she reached her limit and gave Chick a nudge to behave.

Kids are the same, nature over, and so are mothers. There’s a deal of comfort in that thought.

All go in the Village.

chick chickMore than once I have heard people say, “It must be so dull living in the country!” Boring?

This morning I passed a husband and wife out on their tricycles, cycling down the main street of the Village. She followed behind, coated in a bright yellow high visibility safety vest, with L plates front and back on the trike. I guess she could always fall off her seat…

On the other side of town, a man was walking by the side of the road, dressed in dark pants, a camouflage tee-shirt, and a khaki hat sporting camouflage netting; enough to cover his face and neck. It was 6.30 am. Perhaps on his way home from a night of twitching?

I often follow an Armaguard vehicle delivering money to local banks and business. Most times I have to resist the urge to race up close behind in my car and pretend that I am tailing them with intent. The only thing that restrains me is the knowledge that they carry guns.

All go in the Village.