Monday, July 31, 2006
Thursday, July 20, 2006
MY LOVE OF COWS - PART ONE
My love of cows developed during the many holidays at my uncle’s farm at West Wooroolin. Uncle Bill and Aunty Flo operated a mixed farming enterprise which included a small dairy, a small pig sty and the cultivation of crops such as peanuts, sorghum and corn.
But it was the cows that captured my heart and, many decades later, I have the good fortune to be able to look out my windows and watch as our own small herd of Poll Hereford beef cattle stroll about our farm.
I say “love of cows” because bulls aren’t quite so lovable. Especially when you get between them and where they want to be and they start scratching at the ground with their front hooves and begin to give out a warning in an unnatural growl. Cows are supposed to “moo”!
I learnt early that cattle are wonderful placid beings if treated with sensitivity. They also provide many products to sustain the human race. It seems that every atom of their being is exploited by us. They provide us with milk, meat, leather, gelatine, blood and bone.
If only humans could contribute to the planet as unselfishly and environmentally friendly as these dear creatures do.
Okay, I know about their flatulence problem, but cows don’t jump into their huge gas-guzzling vehicles that spew out toxic exhaust fumes and drive just one block to purchase a carton of milk and some carcinogenetic cigarettes, do they?
Uncle Bill’s herd was a mixture of breeds and each animal would be given a name such as “Daisy” or “Pet”. Also there was “Peter” the bull who ensured that there would be calves for sale sometime in the future.
My favourite cows were the three Jersey cows. They were the closest thing to Bambi that I was going to find, and be able to cuddle, in the state of Queensland at the time. There were rumours of wild deer roaming in the hills around the small town of Esk which we passed through on the way from the city of Brisbane to the farm. But I could never sight one, let alone get close enough to one so I could toss my little arms about its neck.
Being young and a city kid meant that I didn’t play a large role during the twice daily milking of the cows. My duties involved coaxing the next cow up to the half dozen bales and perhaps participating in the tying back of the leg with a very loose leg-rope and then wetting the teats in readiness for the suction caps to be applied.
Milking machines are a most efficient way to extract the milk from these willing creatures, that is, if electricity is available.
When the power failed, which it often did, it was back to the old fashioned method where you sat upon a three-legged stool, head resting against the cow’s warm soft belly and then tugged away at the teats to squirt the milk into the bucket clasped between your knees.
The only fun part of this practice was when you tested your aiming skills by trying to squirt a stream of milk into the open mouth of a hopeful cat.
I still marvel at the memory of my diminutive Aunty Flo’s strong hands and determined nature during one of these powerless milking sessions.
My sisters, cousins and I had a game we would play with our bovine friends. It was called “skiing”. We would grasp the tail of a cow and ski behind it, barefoot in the powdery bulldust. It was quite a thrill as our respective cows would pick up pace in the hope of losing its passenger. The boy cousin, being a boy, would up the ante by choosing the less amiable bull as transport.
I am sure the cows were not overly upset about this game. We were only little mites and they still let us cuddle them afterwards and, bottom-line, their milk supplies never dwindled.
At some stage I acquired some literature about dairy cows which featured very colourful pictures of the various breeds available in Australia during the 1960s. Perhaps I found it at The Royal Queensland Show in Brisbane. Better known to us as the Ekka.
Armed with this vital information, I gave a lecturette to my fellow Grade 6 classmates at Mt. Gravatt State School. I spent some time pointing out the various breeds available in Australia and the origin of the different breeds.
I suspect that if my classmates were asked about the regrets they harbour in life, some would recall the 10 to 15 minutes loss of real education that transpired that day.
They may well still bemoan, “If only I had spent that time studying Maths and Science instead of having to listen to her rabbiting on about cows, I could have been a Noble Prize winner!”
Well! Where are you now my indifferent classmates I ask?
I would like to muster you all together in that sweatbox of a classroom and lecture you not only on dairy cows but on the innumerable breeds of beef cattle available to the farmer in 2006.
Back then I only had a handful of dairy breeds to offer. These included the Fresian, Illawarra Shorthorn, Guernsey and my cherished Jersey.
In 2006 I can offer well over 250 breeds of beef cattle. Indeed, someone is cross breeding and using Artificial Insemination to increase the bloodlines as I write this essay.
So, my ignorant city classmates, bring food, water and a swag because I predict that it will be an all-nighter.
Michelle ©
But it was the cows that captured my heart and, many decades later, I have the good fortune to be able to look out my windows and watch as our own small herd of Poll Hereford beef cattle stroll about our farm.
I say “love of cows” because bulls aren’t quite so lovable. Especially when you get between them and where they want to be and they start scratching at the ground with their front hooves and begin to give out a warning in an unnatural growl. Cows are supposed to “moo”!
I learnt early that cattle are wonderful placid beings if treated with sensitivity. They also provide many products to sustain the human race. It seems that every atom of their being is exploited by us. They provide us with milk, meat, leather, gelatine, blood and bone.
If only humans could contribute to the planet as unselfishly and environmentally friendly as these dear creatures do.
Okay, I know about their flatulence problem, but cows don’t jump into their huge gas-guzzling vehicles that spew out toxic exhaust fumes and drive just one block to purchase a carton of milk and some carcinogenetic cigarettes, do they?
Uncle Bill’s herd was a mixture of breeds and each animal would be given a name such as “Daisy” or “Pet”. Also there was “Peter” the bull who ensured that there would be calves for sale sometime in the future.
My favourite cows were the three Jersey cows. They were the closest thing to Bambi that I was going to find, and be able to cuddle, in the state of Queensland at the time. There were rumours of wild deer roaming in the hills around the small town of Esk which we passed through on the way from the city of Brisbane to the farm. But I could never sight one, let alone get close enough to one so I could toss my little arms about its neck.
Being young and a city kid meant that I didn’t play a large role during the twice daily milking of the cows. My duties involved coaxing the next cow up to the half dozen bales and perhaps participating in the tying back of the leg with a very loose leg-rope and then wetting the teats in readiness for the suction caps to be applied.
Milking machines are a most efficient way to extract the milk from these willing creatures, that is, if electricity is available.
When the power failed, which it often did, it was back to the old fashioned method where you sat upon a three-legged stool, head resting against the cow’s warm soft belly and then tugged away at the teats to squirt the milk into the bucket clasped between your knees.
The only fun part of this practice was when you tested your aiming skills by trying to squirt a stream of milk into the open mouth of a hopeful cat.
I still marvel at the memory of my diminutive Aunty Flo’s strong hands and determined nature during one of these powerless milking sessions.
My sisters, cousins and I had a game we would play with our bovine friends. It was called “skiing”. We would grasp the tail of a cow and ski behind it, barefoot in the powdery bulldust. It was quite a thrill as our respective cows would pick up pace in the hope of losing its passenger. The boy cousin, being a boy, would up the ante by choosing the less amiable bull as transport.
I am sure the cows were not overly upset about this game. We were only little mites and they still let us cuddle them afterwards and, bottom-line, their milk supplies never dwindled.
At some stage I acquired some literature about dairy cows which featured very colourful pictures of the various breeds available in Australia during the 1960s. Perhaps I found it at The Royal Queensland Show in Brisbane. Better known to us as the Ekka.
Armed with this vital information, I gave a lecturette to my fellow Grade 6 classmates at Mt. Gravatt State School. I spent some time pointing out the various breeds available in Australia and the origin of the different breeds.
I suspect that if my classmates were asked about the regrets they harbour in life, some would recall the 10 to 15 minutes loss of real education that transpired that day.
They may well still bemoan, “If only I had spent that time studying Maths and Science instead of having to listen to her rabbiting on about cows, I could have been a Noble Prize winner!”
Well! Where are you now my indifferent classmates I ask?
I would like to muster you all together in that sweatbox of a classroom and lecture you not only on dairy cows but on the innumerable breeds of beef cattle available to the farmer in 2006.
Back then I only had a handful of dairy breeds to offer. These included the Fresian, Illawarra Shorthorn, Guernsey and my cherished Jersey.
In 2006 I can offer well over 250 breeds of beef cattle. Indeed, someone is cross breeding and using Artificial Insemination to increase the bloodlines as I write this essay.
So, my ignorant city classmates, bring food, water and a swag because I predict that it will be an all-nighter.
Michelle ©
Sunday, July 09, 2006
ARE DENTISTS HEADING FOR EXTINCTION?
A few years ago I heard on the radio that Japanese scientists were developing a vaccine that would prevent dental cavities. I knew that it must be true because it was on the ABC Radio National news and they don't make stuff up.
I recalled this news item a couple of weeks ago whilst reclining in one of those comfy dentist chairs while David was busy drilling away at one of my back teeth.
More about David later!
I haven’t heard any updates about this vaccine. I had one thought though. Perhaps that research money, which was set aside for the development of the vaccine, has been diverted to another cause, for example, their intensive research of the Minke whales in our Southern Oceans.
It is comforting to know that such dogged and meticulous research has been carried out by Japan since 1987.
When the whale numbers eventually diminish, we will all recall that the Japanese did their very best to research these large and gentle creatures during their annual treks to the Southern Hemisphere to capture, kill and cut up our whales.
And, let it be known, that after all their scientific testing is done, there is no whale meat wastage because the by-products of the research are processed and they are made available to the market, fish markets I assume.
Indeed, any income from the sale of the Minke whale meat by-products is said to be used to partially offset the cost of the research (from the Factsheet of the Institute of Cetacean Research, Japan).
Greenpeace also has a view about this intensive research which you can read about at http://www.greenpeace.org.au/.
Given my upcoming dental appointments, I put my interest in whale research to one side and I went to Google to see if the Japanese scientists had made any headway with the vaccine for tooth decay.
I am pleased to report that a vaccine is still in the pipeline. The Forsyth Institute, an affiliate of the Harvard School of Dental Medicine in the U.S.A, has developed a vaccine which can simply be sprayed into people's noses.
Good news perhaps for all but our highly trained dentists. No tooth decay will result in a reduction in the demand for their services.
I thought of my dentist David who is the best dentist in the world. Not only is he very gentle when giving needles and very quick and thorough with the tooth repairs; he is also very funny, a talented artist and, I am sure he won’t mind if I say it, he is cute.
Now I was a little concerned about his long term future and the chances of retraining for all our highly skilled dentists. But then I came up with a solution.
I know they are good at drilling and filling teeth and they can improve the surfaces of teeth with bonding and capping. Also, they do bridgework.
Yes, you can see where I am going here can’t you? It’s obvious, with their core skills of drilling, patching, resurfacing and bridgework, they can move into road maintenance. All they have to do is think of the BIGGER picture!
However I do believe that David has a secure career in front of him. The vaccine is designed for babies of the future and it will be of no value to people born before fluoride and also those who have had a lifetime of bad eating and faulty brushing habits.
Besides, David can always fall back on a career as a painter of bold and colourful artworks.
I recalled this news item a couple of weeks ago whilst reclining in one of those comfy dentist chairs while David was busy drilling away at one of my back teeth.
More about David later!
I haven’t heard any updates about this vaccine. I had one thought though. Perhaps that research money, which was set aside for the development of the vaccine, has been diverted to another cause, for example, their intensive research of the Minke whales in our Southern Oceans.
It is comforting to know that such dogged and meticulous research has been carried out by Japan since 1987.
When the whale numbers eventually diminish, we will all recall that the Japanese did their very best to research these large and gentle creatures during their annual treks to the Southern Hemisphere to capture, kill and cut up our whales.
And, let it be known, that after all their scientific testing is done, there is no whale meat wastage because the by-products of the research are processed and they are made available to the market, fish markets I assume.
Indeed, any income from the sale of the Minke whale meat by-products is said to be used to partially offset the cost of the research (from the Factsheet of the Institute of Cetacean Research, Japan).
Greenpeace also has a view about this intensive research which you can read about at http://www.greenpeace.org.au/.
Given my upcoming dental appointments, I put my interest in whale research to one side and I went to Google to see if the Japanese scientists had made any headway with the vaccine for tooth decay.
I am pleased to report that a vaccine is still in the pipeline. The Forsyth Institute, an affiliate of the Harvard School of Dental Medicine in the U.S.A, has developed a vaccine which can simply be sprayed into people's noses.
Good news perhaps for all but our highly trained dentists. No tooth decay will result in a reduction in the demand for their services.
I thought of my dentist David who is the best dentist in the world. Not only is he very gentle when giving needles and very quick and thorough with the tooth repairs; he is also very funny, a talented artist and, I am sure he won’t mind if I say it, he is cute.
Now I was a little concerned about his long term future and the chances of retraining for all our highly skilled dentists. But then I came up with a solution.
I know they are good at drilling and filling teeth and they can improve the surfaces of teeth with bonding and capping. Also, they do bridgework.
Yes, you can see where I am going here can’t you? It’s obvious, with their core skills of drilling, patching, resurfacing and bridgework, they can move into road maintenance. All they have to do is think of the BIGGER picture!
However I do believe that David has a secure career in front of him. The vaccine is designed for babies of the future and it will be of no value to people born before fluoride and also those who have had a lifetime of bad eating and faulty brushing habits.
Besides, David can always fall back on a career as a painter of bold and colourful artworks.
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