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Between all the tragedies being played out amongst the floods and raging rivers all over the place, I wonder what, in a panic and totally bewilderment, we would salvage after the dreaded midnight knock by police to evacuate.
On the TV, that horrible medium, not a moment of peoples private miseries or anguish, could be spared from the ever vigilant public stuck in the comfort of their reclining easy chairs. Did you too hear those inane questions from ABC journos; “how do you feel the flooding will affect the people,” it was asked? Oh, they will be delighted!
There it was, for all to see, people loading up their possessions. Some just carried a suitcase, others loaded up their cars, boats and trailers, with chairs, foam furniture (perhaps from Clark Rubber,) dogs, cats and even a galah. I saw a floating device with what looked like a big fridge on top of a matrass. A couple of men were clear headed enough to load a treasured wine collection with some white wine bottles sticking out. Was it a good sauvignon Blanc or some dreadful heavily oaked chardonnay?
What really took the overall price for a moment of Chekov, amongst all that misery, were a couple of girls wading through the rising waters carrying a huge mirror. ’A mirror,’ now that was really something you would miss.
I don’t know what I would take, perhaps just some old black and white photos that I store in a small box. You know the sort of things that one sometimes peer at and wonder what happened to it all. Did it all pan out?
Would I take a passport, banking details? What about some books, my tin toy locomotive?
I don’t know but we had some lovely garlic prawns last night. What else could one have done?
Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle 
To top it all off, there was this interview with a Paganini type character in an over sized dark suit. All that in the middle of the flotsam in the worst area of the raging river going through a small township sweeping everything in its front. He spoke of cars, people screaming, bodies and everything floating past!
He had a goatee beard.
I couldn’t get past that suit.
Perhaps he either dressed up for the interview or came straight out of a Chekhov play or is long lost relative of old Franz Kafka.
Did anyone see it?
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Somewhat sureil seeing that bloke in his best bag of fruit. His 15 minutes of fame perhaps.
Noted the lovely Annabel blurting on about the PM wearing the “wrong” clothes! AC off on the wrong tangent as usual.
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Alge, so glad I missed miss Annabel…
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It’s still there on “The Drum” Helvi, however you can’t leave a comment. Maybe the mod got something right.
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On the positive side: all the fuss has bought the army out!
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With compliments of brother Adrian from Brisbane.
About a week ago in Dalby, the place is getting flooded for the second time in a month and some graphic footage of people wading through waters trying to save their possessions. Camera moves to the other side of the street and there is a bloke carrying what on his shoulder ??????? Yep you guessed it, a slab of beer !!!! Now here comes the punchline, “what sort of beer” ????? ” Dry” Oh my God I cracked up.
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Pingback: Raging Rivers « Oosterman Treats Blog
Strolling on the edge of the flood zone, I chanced across a group of dejected ‘flood supporters’. I new what they were because of the placards and badges, emblazoned “74 will be beaten”. They were straggling behind the main group, who were heading off to the car-park for a pep talk.
I couldn’t help stopping and asking if they needed any sustenance or shelter. “Was there anything I could to do help?” I asked in a conciliatory tone.
When they detected my Pommie accent they went wild and started chasing me, yelling, “We lost the cricket-and now your rubbing our noses in the peak parity loss”.
“But”, one stalwart sneered, ” there’ll be a few bodies in The Murray, soon. …And I’ll be first to know, I’ve got my touch fone on 24/7 ! “”””
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The reporters ask a question that demands a certain response, ie: How upset were you when you saw your bloated dead grandmother floating down the river?
Or, “Can you tell the viewers if your wife is looking forward to getting back home after sleeping on the concrete floor of the RSL Club”?
Or, “How much better is it being interviewed, instead of drowning?
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Little Hadron,
So glad to see you are back and in splendid form. Gee, they were milking the flood interviews tonight again on ABC.
Ended up switching it all off and read last Saturday’s papers.
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I thought the interview with the girl whose parents had been swept from the kitchen and had been found drowned about 2km down the creek was particularly “tasteful”. The reporter looked like he was angling for the money shot. The girl held her composure and looked bewildered. Guess we needed to all know the details.
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Gez, it’s an ephemeral question. I have a handful of “difficult to replace” books. My collection of T-shirts…….my USB and terabyte drives. Reminds me to put a bit of time into digitising those old family photographs.
The mirror reference speaks volumes about the interests of young girls,.
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Mike, they might be looking for a mirror image as a way to reflect on what’s happened to them, that all they have left of their worldly possessions is their mirror?
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MJ, I’d take what couldn’t be replaced like my Pigs Arms t-shirt
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I’d be loath to let my books and computer go, but as I could at least store all my important documents on a flash drive I could do it… there being little or no choic about the books anyway; just far too many to rescue; but I’d have to rescue both my guitars and my little amp… and all my songbooks.
Don’t have too many photos; most of my memories are in my head… and that’s the way I like to keep ’em; photos grow old and faded, get worn and never quite ‘put you there’ when you look at them years later, whereas my memories put me immediately in the events I’m recalling…
But I do remember one time, after my rucksack containing what few clothes I had and my tent and sleeping bag were ripped off in St Raphael, all I had in the world was the clothes on my back and my guitar… I earned enough money from busking that day to buy another sleeping bag and fortunately the weather is very kind on the Cote D’Azure… So I do know what it’s like to have almost nothing anyway… In a strange kind of way it can be remarkably liberating.
But I would NEVER have survived at all without my guitar…
😉
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Asty, not having too much can be very liberating indeed. When the kids were small, we sold our house, gave most of furniture away and went to live in Holland for three years. We took five large suitcases and our cabin bags, but that was all. For the first three months we rented something, then bought a place.
Those three much I felt free as a bird, no house, no stuff…
The house we bought was sold with lots antiques and/or just nice old furniture, which still weigh us down…
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I usually also carry a book to read where ever I go, and some crosswords…
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A cookbook?
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When I first bought Elizabeth David books, I used to read them in bed for pleasure, in those days my handbag was also lot smaller, now I could fit them in but they are falling apart….
I still find Tessa Kiros’ Falling Cloudberries full of interesting bits to read but it’s too heavy to carry around…I found an appetizing recipe for Lemon and Oregano Chicken…maybe we’ll have it tomorrow for dinner.
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Indeed, the man and his gittar.
Did you see too that footage of this man loading a very big and long guitar in his car? It took the whole of the back seat. He was lucky that he could drive away to higher grounds. The best of luck to him and his music.
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I’m having Milo in my handbag, will they notice…?
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Lola would be in my handbag too. But it’s Julia the chook that would worry me. Luckily (?) BaBa the pet lamb has passed away – he was huge, my shearer nearly did in his foofa valve shearing him.
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Poor Julia,
What could happen to her? Can she still fly? Those Rhode Island reds are pretty good at it. Our bantam roosters used to fly high into the trees and hide from the fox. I suppose you would never barbecue Julia?
We found out that our farming ambitions could never get serious because we were unable to kill and eat any of our chooks. I used to love eating their eggs but also always thanked them for their efforts. ( profusely.)
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No, can’t fly but can jump about one metre. She is an Isabrown by the way. We only (!) have to prepare for fire actually so the plan would be to pop her into a garbage bag with head sticking out – but preferably I ought to have something like a cat cage.
Never ate any of our chooks over the years. They just kept on laying eggs till they dropped.
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We’ve inherited four chooks from the house’s previous owners. They’re kind of more like pets, because I reckon the eggs are about $7.00 each, when you add up what Mrs M spends on the buggers.
A mate, who grew up in the country, and now has chooks, reckons ISA Browns are the best chooks in the world, compact, hardy, lay one egg a day, sociable, and happy for a cuddle from a human.
We’ll probably get some ISA browns when this lot become geriatric. No, we won’t eat them, either, Gez. Couldn’t bring myself to kill the poor buggers.
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Isa Browns certainly are sociable. Julia hops in the trailer for a ride while hubby does his ‘farm’ jobs, she tries to come into the house, she follows you around outside (gets under ones feet) and sometimes she ‘talks’. Well, I do speak chook.
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Mrs M had a neighbour call by today to ask if he bought some chooks, would we look after them when he’s away. Sounds like neighbourhood chook watch.
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Well, if you say yes, at least you know what you are in for, being experienced chook watchers and all.
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Won’t it get spilled, Helvi? You must have a very large handbag…
😉
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asty, carrying it around, is my workout, my gym; to day the left shoulder, tomorrow the right!
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I see… oh well, at least that way your shoulders will balance… even if they do smell all chocolatey from where you spilled it…
A nicer smell than most armpits I should imagine…
😉
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Lovely, succinct essay, Gerard. I had the same thought. Bloody news choppers filming people being dragged down rivers, when, the appropriate thing to do would be to commandeer the chopper for rescue/supply/etc.
Had the same thoughts about pets. The excuse was that they can do silly things in the chopper. The answer is to harness them, like one does in the car.
It is just as terrifying as the recent spate of Victorian bushfires. Everyone I know has an affected relative, or, at least, some connection with those affected.
No doubt there’ll be whole lot of finger pointing, blaming dams, global warming, building regulations, and, of course, the gummint.
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I blame the modelling. Damned software thinks everything should be better than ’74.
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The reports I heard was that the dams are 190 to 220% better than ’74!
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Thanks for your kind words Big M. May I call you Big H?
One could get a bit stiffy about those girls carrying that large wooden framed mirror but they could well be models and looking in a good mirror could be their job and livelihood. Even so, I could not imagine carrying a large mirror around in the evacuation hall.
I suppose, lots of tinned lentils could be handy and extra rolls of dry toilet paper. Perhaps also some salty licorice.
Ps Big H means Big Heart.
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Thanks for the compliment, Gez, yes, one could get a stiffy, but, Mrs M is likely to give it a ‘tap’ with a cold spoon!
‘Evacuation Hall’, quaint name, but, I guess it goes with the lentils and TP!
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Damn.
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Oops, sorry, that was a dam damn.
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I like your short essay gerard. It is thoughtful. Thank you for it.
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You are so kind. I remember greeting Helvi at some airport wearing Egyption Sand Shoes. They were made of some kind of coiled rope at each end, but had canvas in the middle. I thought Helvi would be impressed, perhaps expecting greeting me as if a long lost Dr.Livingstone.
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Espadrilles!
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Gez, they sound like corkers. Your blood’s worth bottlin’.
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I had a time of having a bag packed in case I needed to flee, and one time I actually did flee so I know. It was mostly practical. But it was just a tool, not a time-capsule. What I actually cared most about were my dog and cat.
A lot of people wouldn’t have wanted to go to that shelter because of their pets. That was unreasonable I thought. There were people who would have chosen to stay in their houses rather than abandon something vulnerable in their care.
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Perhaps that’s one of the problems. They’ll let someone drag in a suitcase of the past, but not their dog. So we end up cherishing things that are gone, and forget how to care for things that we have.
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It was a SHOWGROUND, for goodness sake. You can’t tell me they couldn’t have accomodated pets. That’s just bureaucratic and offensive.
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They have in place Lehan some substantial measures these days especially developed through the domestic villence units leading the way regards the procedure to rescue and accommodate pets. I hope that will stand the people in good stead and someone I know does work with horses with a group in the Hills eg.
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dern… not ‘villence’.
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I’d have been one of those unruly elderlies, shoe, who just refused to answer the door, hugging my sweet little poodle close. Mind you, I shudder to think what fun he’d have found in an evacuation refuge.
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Yes, I remember lifing from the very North of Italy to the South and Napels just with a string bag and wearing thongs.
No worries, and I never though of it as being anything special.
Now, I could never do that. Just the weight of all our spoons would bear me down. I don’t know how we came to collect so many of those crockery utensils. I suppose, through the years one gets so many gifts and spoons must have had a period of being very popular as gifts. Lehan, do they give spoons in Japan?.
Perhaps the days of fondue sets were the catalyst for many spoon giving parties, perhaps as part of smoking bongs and listening to Cigarettes and Whisky and a Wild ,wild woman..
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Well, as I allready told on Unleashed, my handbag carries my whole world: a passport,
a wallet with cards and some cash, photos, a phone, a bottle of perfume, a collection of keys on a keyring my son made at school ,a packet of tissues….
I’d just take the handbag!
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