Australia Day celebrates the first settlement, in Australia in 1778, when on January 26, 11 ships arrived from Great Britain at Port Jackson (Sydney Harbour), led by Captain Arthur Philip, who went onto established the Colony of New South Wales
Australia day was first celebrated in 1818 by the Governor of Australia.
It is a day of celebrations by Australians of their country and culture, held on 26th January every year.
It is a public holiday in all states and territories.
The Australian of the Year Awards are presented to Australians who have made an outstanding contribution to their country or community.
Citizenship ceremonies are held on Australia Day to welcome immigrants who have been granted Australian citizenship.
So, to all my Australian mates: “G’day” and “Onya mate”
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A quote from my friend Isabelle. I like it! It is so true.
“Nobody knows the age of the human race, but everybody agrees that it is old enough to know better”
~ Isabelle Aubé
From my friend Tracy’s blog
via THG's Blog
I was in conversation with Jo recently and she sent me a copy of her poem.
“It was really strange how the poem came to me. It was about 15 years ago. I woke up at 4am scribbled it down and went back to sleep. It won an international poetry competition. “
Jo Dean lives on the Isle of Man and wrote her first novel ‘Forty Not Famous’ when she moved back to the Island in 2002.
Whilst Jo stresses that all of her characters are fictional, she admits that many people she has known have provided inspiration for her work.
We all know a ‘Charlie’ or a ‘Henrietta’ and I am sure we have all met a ‘Mr Wrong’ or even a ‘Mr Wrong Again.’
Jo with family friend Chris De Burgh
I am drawn from other people’s images;
the fleeting touches
of those passing
through my existence,
leaving traces of their expressions
etched upon my face.
Some are butterfly wings
gently caressing my dreams,
others knife wounds
leaving scars of truth
which frequently weep
and cannot be grafted
by new experience.
I am painted and masked
with the foundation
of my dreams;
sprinkled with a collage
of dust streaked
a hardened palette.
The watercolours of my life
are washed over
in layers of moonshine,
starlight and cobalt blue;
until they seep into rainbows
and the canvas of tomorrow
is painted from a million todays.
by Jo Grey
The other day, my friend, who is a baker by trade, got a nasty shock:
he walked around the corner, trod on a bun and the currant went up his leg!