Lake George is a short drive out of Canberra. This photo was taken from the lookout a few weeks ago.
As you can see, there’s not much of a lake there anymore! It disappeared years ago. Back in my parents’ day people used to take boats out on it. Now farmers graze sheep there.
A nineteen year old student and a well-known city councilman – the latest Ukrainians to be tortured and murdered by the Russians.
We have a serious kangaroo plague around here. People from other countries – and other parts of Australia – just don’t get it. On the three hour drive back from Sydney the other day we didn’t see a single kangaroo until we reached Canberra. Every time the local government tries to do something about it everyone from elsewhere starts protesting. The area in and around Canberra and Queanbeyan is largely farmland, and instead of livestock in the paddocks, there’re thousands of kangaroos.
In the space of about two kilometres, I saw five dead kangaroos, two dead foxes and a dead wombat on the side of the road.
We were driving into Queanbeyan yesterday, and I snapped this quick picture (with my old, dying camera, so it’s blurry) from the car. These kangaroos are about a hundred metres from the beginning of the suburbs. If I’d had a wider lens, you would have seen they were just a few of a few hundred in the group in that paddock.
It’s Anzac Day in Australia. So here’s a video from the Battle of Binh Ba in the Vietnam War. My father fought in this battle. He is driving an armoured personnel carrier.
A few photographs from Saturday. Some of our own (slightly faded now they’re decades old!) pysanky – hand-painted Ukrainian Easter eggs. A few of them (the messy ones at the back!) were made by us when we were about six. Then there’s the traditional embroidery, and underneath that the weaving done by my great-grandmother in rural Ukraine a long, long time ago. It was given to us in 2011 when we finally tracked down our family in that village, after believing there was nobody left on my grandfather’s side of the family, thanks to war and the Russians. They’d been saving it for a few decades, hoping one day we might find them there.
And making the paska – the Ukrainian Easter bread. Baba, on the left, is ninety-one and still doing all the traditional things each Easter and Christmas.