Author: Richmond Road

A curious old nobody.

Pretty Pictures

On By Richmond Road8 Comments

I like looking at photos. Perhaps, in the fading light, I can no longer see all the words, but an image still grabs my attention. I have, this very morning, set up an Instagram account (I don’t really know what to do with it, there’s no pictures on it yet, so don’t bother checking) and I was wondering who of you like-minded souls might have an account that I may follow ….. to look at your pretty pictures and maybe understand you better.

On the other hand, maybe WordPress is just as good as a platform for the same purpose. I don’t know. I don’t know much about anything else either, so I need all the advise I can get.

Graham’s Newsletter

On By Richmond Road14 Comments

I couldn’t resist reposting a exert from a letter which popped into my inbox this morning. My Druitt, in Sydney is viewed by some in the same manner as Compton, Los Angeles. My first ever job, in fact, involved selling encyclopaedias door to door out there. A challenging task, to say the least.

 

Dear Inner Circle,

Wayside’s leadership is passing into good hands. Jon Owen and I were in Mount Druitt this week, helping to make a documentary about our succession. We stopped at multiple locations and always someone recognised Jon, embraced him and tried to catch him up on as much news as they could in a few minutes. Each time we jumped back into the car to head to the next location, Jon shared something of the story of the journey he’d shared with the person we just met. After the first couple of these, I was impressed by the compassion of a man who’d shared the worst of human tragedies with people, without for a moment thinking he’s achieved anything special. In one location, we stopped long enough to hear raised, cranky voices. A woman jumped into a car and before our eyes, ran it into the bloke at whom she was yelling. The car knocked the man to the ground and I’d wondered if he might have broken a leg. He quickly jumped up to his feet in time to kick the bonnet of the car before it sped off down the street. I was momentarily in shock. “In this part of the world,” Jon said, “that was just a negotiation.”

Ode to my Kindy Teacherl

On By Richmond Road7 Comments

I was reading through posts again this morning and ran across one from Cyranny the last words (or maybe all the words) of which dragged back vague memories of a kindergarten teacher of mine from another century who spoke with no apparent direction but with playfulness and love. Perhaps my memories of her have become distorted with time. But does that matter?

How I wish I had known her

And not outgrown her

words that had clattered out

like a runaway train.

And wandered about

off the tracks again and again

only to return to where she had been

to the central theme

Which was love.

How I wish I had touched her

And somehow clutched her

simple truths

so recklessly painted

with her wild word

by rules untainted

And wonder how, now

She might still be heard

Speaking from above.