In this Dead and the Living shots, I caught a grasshopper coming out of its old skin this evening as the light was fading. By the time I grabbed the camera, the grasshopper had hung its old skin neatly on a garden stump, just like a coat hanger.
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A Writer’s Guide to Defamation and Invasion of Privacy
I found this gem on Writer’s Digest. I am writing a memoir and I asked the question, “who will you hurt when you write?” in an earlier post. I think this article by Attorney Amy Cook answers that question in some aspects.
A Writer’s Guide to Defamation and Invasion of Privacy
by Amy Cook
A memoir is your story, but of course it will involve many other people. Most of us have not led completely charmed lives. Everyone has ups and downs, and those who write memoirs usually have had mountains and valleys—that’s what makes them so interesting. Recent bestselling memoirs are replete with addiction, abuse, homelessness and triumph over these adversities. But do the other people in your story want theirs told? Are there elements that might be embarrassing to them? Will their memories be in sync with yours?
She Married Her Stalker – Wildlife and Photography
Penelope got married. This was a news that is no longer news because I was reluctant to share it. Penelope the goddess (see other duck stories) married her stalker. The male duck (pictured with her) lurked around our backyard for weeks as she was growing up last year. He has a tall slim body and deep grey feathers. His head was the darkest amongst all the other ducks. I had not seen him before Penelope was born.
I think I kept chasing this male duck away because subconsciously, I believed he would take her away. None of my threatening moves scared the duck and I was surprised by its persistence to stick around.
Each time I yelled at it, I was scolded by my sons. They argued that the male duck could be Penelope’s father.
“Oh really, you’re serious?” I would say, knowing the duck wasn’t her father.
The dark headed stranger would wait in our yard, in nearby trees and bushes and watch her. I had a name for it, but this blog is G rated so I won’t say it. As she got older, Penelope became silly and stubborn. Her behaviour changed in the evenings, she wanted to stay up and outside the coop. This is the story of Penelope, the baby duckling we raised. I guess I could not say Penelope grew up, got married and lived happily ever after. Not yet, as her story has not ended. Pictured here the feathered couple sat away from the pack and watched the new ducklings swim.
“I am afraid they are getting new ideas”, I said to my own children.
“Mum, stop messing with duck-business”, my son Nathan said.
Standing under the hot Brisbane sun, I watched Penelope and thought of her when she was tiny and had a broken foot. She grew up too quickly and being able to fly in November last year, she left home and disappeared for a few days. Then she returned home with ‘him’. I was not impressed at first, but after a while, I watched the way they spent the day and it melted away my anger.
The male duck serves the goddess with his love and patience. Penelope is very demanding and seems to bark orders at him. He obliges and keeps calm. Most times, he just follows her. Yesterday, she took him to my second garden near the neighbour’s yard. None of the other ducks go there and I was surprised to see the pair. But, that was where she and I used to spent most times; me pulling out weeds and she eating them.
I am okay with them spending time in my garden. She is happy and she is still here in Bellbowrie and that makes me happy.
I was laughing as I wrote this story, but I did get really annoyed in the beginning with Penelope and this male duck. If you think this post is ridiculous, say so, but I needed to get it off my chest.
New Bugs – Photography
New Bugs – JK.Leahy Photography
These tiny mysterious bugs were all over the hibiscus bush a few weeks ago. They are round and flat roughly the size of a pencil top. Interestingly, they lay white bobby pin-head size eggs, soft and translucent like the turtle eggs. They visit the eggs in pairs and leave in pairs which I thought was strange. I have not been able to find more information, but I hope to soon. By all means, if you do know these bugs, tell us.
The Rainbow – Poetry
The Rainbow ©JK.Leahy
There is a rainbow
beyond the shadow
Where blended lights mellow
darkness lurks in shallow
Afraid of radiance’s glow
in obscurity, crevices open
Mind unlocks, and lets go
Beams will seek night
where bad memories hide
Upon the altar, a peace-offering
In spirit we build oneness
to end all writhing
And, we touch the rainbow
This poem is dedicated to all Papua New Guinean writers; fighting to find their voice in the literary world. To my readers, if you can relate to this poem and it applies to how you feel at this moment, then it is for you too.
The Fragrant Beauty – Photography
The fragrant beauty of the frangipani always makes me homesick for Papua New Guinea. It also takes me across the ocean and the Pacific Islands. I am slowly building up my collection of frangipani in my garden in Brisbane and hope one day I could be surrounded by a variety of fragrances all year around. These are only three types out of the 12 different species I have.
The name frangipani came from an Italian perfume made to scent gloves in the 16th Century; the maker was called Marquis Frangipani. The scientific name for these beauties is Plumeria (as known in America). The genus name, Plumeria, commemorates Charles Plumier, a seventeenth century French botanist. The flower is native to Central America, Venezuela and Mexico. And, it grows across the Pacific Islands, Asia and other tropical countries.
The Crocodile Prize 2016 Literary Competition is open
Hi friends of tribalmysticstories,
some of you may know I was invited to become a Crocodile Prize organising committee member last year – after winning the Children’s Category. Since September 2015, a small committee of volunteer Papua New Guinea writers have worked tirelessly to get this year’s competition started.
Despite a few challenges, we are very proud to announce the Papua New Guinea National Literature Award for 2016 opens today. Prizes are given for best short story, illustration, poetry, children’s stories, heritage and journalism/essays.
The Crocodile Prize is open to Papua New Guinea citizens. Visit us on http://www.crocodileprize.com
Here is the chairman Baka Bina’s speech from today’s launch in Port Moresby.
Samarai Island: Once A District Nerve-Centre
Samarai is a gorgeous place. I visited Samarai 20 years ago and loved it. It is a shame that the authorities let it run down, especially when it held historical significance for Papua New Guinea from the 1920s. Thank you for sharing this post, sister Islandmeri.
Visit here for Samarai archival images from 1900s. Read additional history from Loosenuts blog.
- The south side of Samarai Island. The sight of a lone man in his canoe – still the main mode of transport for many people in these islands.
It was a short trip to Samarai from Doini Island – less than 30 minutes. I had never seen the island from this side before.
The Kwato Mission boats, MV Osiri and MV Labini would berth here some Saturdays bringing shoppers from Kwato and the famous homemade Kwato bread and buns. These were a popular hit as the ladies always returned to Kwato with the large empty bread basins.
Many happy memories of this wharf especially when the mission boats, MV Osiri and MV Labini would berth here for Kwato islanders to do their shopping at Samarai’s two main department stores – Steamships and Burns Philp and many other shops such as the hardware store.
Samarai was the District headquarters for the Milne Bay District before the advent of provinces. It was a hub for many islanders…
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Hot Day – A Watercolour Study
Hot Day – Watercolour JK.Leahy
“Hot Day”. A study of a Papua New Guinean child on a hot day. I enjoy painting the most when it is unplanned and I use watercolour loosely until the image shows up.
First Day in the Water – Wildlife Photography
Ten ducklings had their first day with their mother in the water yesterday. The Pacific Black duck pair had been living in our backyard this last year. These are their first hatchlings.
The test begins now to see if they would all survive into autumn. Last night, between 7pm and 9pm, Nathan, Chris and I barely managed to put them into a safe enclosure for the night.
At 4:30am this morning, I woke up to some loud scrapping sounds only to find, it wasn’t the usual suspects, the possums, but the local rascal, the wild cat that kills birds in our neighbourhood. The cat tried to get into the enclosure. I got out, just in time to chase it away.
Tribalmystic Stories 