Res Publica

Island Chicken

The Admin Dept. at work recently invested in a snazzy new scanner, a Canon Canoscan 5200F. It's a nice piece of gear with a built in slide and negative scanner, a facility I've actually wanted for myself for a little while. I've carefully preserved (some would say hoarded) all my negatives from way back (1967) and wouldn't mind converting a few of my favourites to a digital image so I thought I'd give the new scanner a go. First up I'd have to say that the software is tricky, sometimes usefully pre-emptive but at other times totally rigid and positively hostile. Annoyingly, in one mode, it offers a series of final image sizes, none of which actually let you scan the full 35mm slide.

Operationally it  seemed to work OK for the first strip of four negatives which, at about a minute apiece, is a good opportunity to make a cup of coffee. On the next strip of four slides it could only find three anyway and then it wanted to take anywhere between 5 and 10 minutes to scan each one and you can only drink so much coffee. In lieu of a comprehensive review, suffice it to say that getting a good image from the negative (or slide) is not totally straightforward. The slightest deviation from a 35mm negative, such as an instamatic negative, and the system quite simply doesn't want to know. I've only scanned about a dozen negatives so far and I'm already rather pissed off. At that rate, another dozen and I shall probably conclude that the exercise has been terminated.

Despite the operational difficulties, the scan quality is actually fairly reasonable. Some photos taken in low light or landscapes with a lot of sky don't look good. Reasonably well lit, close-ups or short distance shots seem to be coming across quite well. Which brings me to Island Chicken. The Handbrake's yearning for Vanuatu's answer to KFC, or more precisely, the kumala chips (sweet potato), prompted me to revive this 35mm negative as a souvenir of our her almost daily visits to Port Vila's premier takeaway establishment a couple of years ago. If we can blame anything for initially triggering off our now thankfully abandoned waistline expansion programme, then this is where it all started.  Yes, it does look a bit seedy, but the chips...

Time for a Bagging

Have you bought any of those reusable calico bags they're flogging at the supermarket yet ?  Planet Ark's campaign to do away with disposable plastic bags is slowly gaining momentum and several towns have now joined in, following the lead set by Tasmania's Coles Bay. In a giant environmental leap forward for the family we started buying some of these calico bags a few months back and now have about half a dozen. The obvious place to keep them is in the car and that's become a problem in itself because that's where they've generally stayed while we went and stocked up on a fresh supply of plastic ones at the supermarket.

On our last trip I actually remembered to grab a couple off the back seat before we went shopping. The young lady on the till then merrily proceeded to put the shopping into plastic bags while I stood there with them in my back pocket. Thankfully The Handbrake interrupted my check-out reverie and we did finally end up using them. In another couple of months time we may actually get this idea to work but it's hard to break with tradition.

Cloncurry Comes of Age

Well, I suppose it had to happen. Cloncurry surrendered late last year to the relentless tide of progress and introduced the latest in traffic control measures, one of those new-fangled roundabout thingies. Here, at the junction of Sheaffe and Scarr Streets, is Cloncurry's first roundabout. The town appears to have coped remarkably well without one in the preceding 130 odd years.

In the middle of the roundabout is the town's soldier's memorial with its polished brass plaques. Until a few short months ago, traffic circulation at this intersection was regulated by a couple of old-fashioned 'Give Way' signs. I must say though, the townsfolk do seem to have adjusted quite well to the new concept, ably assisted by the 'Keep Left' signs which remove any trace of doubt in their minds as to which way round they're supposed to go.

Funnily enough, the first time I ever got to this intersection a few years ago I assumed it was a roundabout and doubtless brought a smile to the faces of a few bemused locals as yet another 'first-timer' stuffed it up. Given that I've never had to wait more than about 5 seconds at this intersection, I'm left wondering just why they decided they needed a roundabout, it's hardly Bourke Street. This photo was taken at about 5.30pm on a typically busy day.

Word of the Day

Wednesday's Brisbane Courier Mail had me reaching for the online dictionary with this odd headline. Was it some sort of bizarre natural disaster the like of which I'd never heard of before ? No, 'temblor' is quite simply the Spanish word for earthquake.

So why would anyone on the editorial staff at the Courier Mail allow or use the Spanish word for an earthquake ?  While not wishing to suggest that anyone would be so pretentious or simply stupid enough as to use this word I can only conclude that the Courier Mail is endeavouring to lift it's profile and circulation amongst Brisbane's massive Spanish and Latino population. 

There, I'm glad I got that off my poitrine.

Coral Vine

Some time ago I put up a picture of this pretty vine. Nobody, myself included, seemed to recognise it. So, gripped with the fever of unrequited curiosity and a spare hour I set about tracking it down. The Department of Natural Resources and Mines was of no use, "Sorry sir, we don't have anybody that can help you ..." but that wasn't surprising.

I'm pleased to be able to report however that Bundaberg City Council were actually interested and directed me to proceed 'over' north to the Parks and Gardens Department where a very knowledgeable and helpful gentleman knew it instantly. It's a Coral Vine (Antigonon leptopus), a native of Central America. Like most of these floral imports it can locally smother the native vegetation and constitute a pest. The Federal Department of the Environment and Heritage has it earmarked as a 'Potential Environmental Weed'. Not to be confused with the native Coral Vine in WA which is an entirely different species.

Its a member of the polygonaceae, a plant family which includes the common British sorrel and dock species. The elongate 'heart shaped leaves (partcularly the crinkly texture) are certainly reminiscent of the dock leaf which we used to rub on stinging nettle stings to ease the pain when I were a lad.

Both the flowers and leaves seem to be something of a delicacy, at least in Thailand.

Can't cope ...

Little A has been off school for a couple of days with a nasty cold but there doesn't appear to be much wrong with her appetite. So I thought I'd whip up a bit of a fry-up for lunch, ham, tomatoes and mashed potato. Turns out the mashed potato was potato salad ...

Which is almost as bad as last night's effort when I spent a shameful amount of time trying to find the button on the remote control to rewind the DVD ...

Perhaps I need a break.

Auf Wiedersehen, Lenin

Rented this the other day from the video shop. It's been out a while, but waiting for it to come to the big screen in Bundaberg is a bit of a fruitless exercise what with an apparent ban on anything remotely exotic being watched north of Brisbane and the fact that I'm only in town for one week out of three. Much to my surprise the video store actually had this, one of two copies, lurking in the recent releases (recent by Bundaberg standards - it came out in 2003). Bundaberg's not that big on culture, especially if it's foreign (unless there's lots of gratuitous nudity of course) and one of the video shops even has the South Park videos stored on its Art House shelves, probably because they don't have a puerile drivel classification (yes, you guessed it, I'm not a fan of South Park).

This film was rather funny and quite poignant and deservedly received the many accolades it earned when it first hit the screen. There's a good review here. One of the funniest films to come out of Germany for quite some time.

Goodbye Milly

Well, we've no idea where she's gone but she disappeared about a week ago and there's been no sign of her at the pound or at the RSPCA. Trouble was, she was such a friendly cat that anyone on the lookout for a cute kitten couldn't fail. I trust that no more serious fate has befallen her but I'll be very surprised if we see her again now. If she ran away, at least she had the decency to do it before the big $$$ operation - or perhaps that's why she ran away ! Anyway, here she is, one last time, in her favourite 'I'm guarding the water heater' pose. Why you'd want to reside on top of a water heater in this weather escapes me but cats are peculiar creatures. We're obviously not lucky with cats, perhaps it's time for a goldfish.

Mangoes & Jackfruit

We headed off to Shalom College, Bundaberg's Catholic High School, this morning for a look around the weekly produce, arts and crafts and pre-loved treasures. Mangoes are in peak season about now and to say this has been a good year would be an understatement. Trays of mangoes at the market are going for close to $10, which works out at about $1 each but they're still commanding much higher prices in Coles and Woolies, especially down south. Here's a tray of R2E2 mangoes we picked up for $11.00 - not prime quality fruit but excellent eating. By my estimate, $11 is a bit under £5. I dread to think what you're having to pay in the UK for some second rate scrawny thing from Israel or the Caribbean these days.

One of the stalls also had jackfruit for sale, the first time I've seen it there. It's a tropical fruit related to the breadfruit and not to everyone's taste. The flavour is unique, perhaps reminiscent of ripe banana but they can be a bit slimey and fibrous too which would put a few people off. This medium sized one cost $5 but it's only about half the size of some of the big ones they had on sale. It makes a change but I really can't see it becoming one of my staple foodstuffs !

Refuelling fiasco

Refuelling at Cloncurry has always been entertaining and reminiscent of a bygone era but in recent weeks it has reached new heights of absurdity.  After everyone's off the plane, this battered little old truck comes out, laden with half a dozen or more 200 litre drums of fuel and pulls up in front of the wing. The operator unrolls his very long extension lead, walks back to the terminal building, pokes it through one of the front windows, comes inside and plugs it in. I know, this isn't exactly gripping but getting it done so we can take-off and go home is high on my and everybody else's priority list at the time, hence my heightened interest. The operator then clambers up on the back of the truck and proceeds to pump the fuel into the wing tank and that's also a bit of a struggle because the wing on the new fangled Saab thingy is just a bit too high to reach the inlet easily.

During the last few weeks this particular piece of theatre has generated into something of a farce because the electric pump has been cactus, forcing the old manual drum-pump into making an indispensable comeback. However, emptying half a dozen 200 litre fuel drums with a manual drum pump is a rather tiring exercise. So the pilot has a go, and then the husband of the check -in lady. A couple of weeks ago it was eight of my colleagues in an ad hoc refuelling relay team. But the manual pump doesn't have an automatic pressure switch so when the tank fills up warm avgas spills out all over the wing of the plane. Bear in mind that the air temperature's about 35°C and the wing has been basking in the sun for a while so there's really quite a serious element to this entertaining, yet volatile situation. After that it's on to the other wing tank where the farce is repeated.

After about half an hour the process is no longer very entertaining and develops a rather tedious quality. Yesterday the co-pilot was taking photographs, hopefully presaging a review of the refuelling procedure. Either that or he's planning to email them to his aviation industry mates so they can have a damn good laugh. Hopefully it's the former.