DO THEY KNOW WHERE THE FOOD COMES FROM?
What a great country of Australian volunteers, we are a country of drought, bushfires and floods and we have 70 percent of our population that live in our cities and that leaves 30 percent of country people.
Our city cousins who are protesting in regard to climate change, do city people know where their food originates from?
The farmer who has had it tough for the last two years of drought, towns running out of drinking water, all those great people who have been delivering hay to drought stricken farmers and those brave volunteer people fighting bushfires and Blazeaid helping farmers to repair their burned out fences.
Australian politicians must listen to country people that our land is to be farmed and not lock up national parks, or forest.
Starving stock should have been allowed to graze in our national parks to minimise the risk of bushfire.
Our native wildlife would adapt to cattle grazing in the highland. Ask any farmer who lives next door to a national park, the biggest fear is fire and over the last 20 years very little burning off has occurred.
One only has to look at the state of our roads with all the grass on the side of the road and now the rain has come, life given rain, but for some its flood time.
Mother nature has always done what it likes, a reminder that people cannot change the weather.
How many people can remember growing up, our parents had a horse and trailer going to work, no electricity, a wooden stove to cook on and keep warm and the toilet pan, that if one lived on a farm had to make a hole and bury it, no toilet paper but newspaper and the regular occurrence of dust storms and we rode our bikes to school.
History should be taught at school.
"I love a sunburnt country, a land of sweeping plains, of rugged mountain ranges, of droughts and flooding rains, I love her blue horizon, I love her jewelled sea, her beauty and her terror, the wide brown land for me." - Dorothea McKellar
Fran Pietroboni, Griffith
GRIFFITH'S LOVELY CHANNEL WATER
Born and raised on an irrigation farm at Griffith,
Left school and to the 'big smoke', find a job and hopefully not come to any harm,
To see how how the others live, enjoy life and to make a quid,
Dad and mum not happy, we need a hand here on the farm.
But I was determined to make a success of it in Sydney town,
The night life at Kings Cross was exciting, great and fast,
Found a job and moved into a flat at Darlinghurst,
Luckily this strong country boy had the stamina to last.
Years rolled by, and a great life I was enjoying every day,
But something seemed to be missing, although I had learnt the Sydney tricks,
It took a long time to try and work out what it was,
And then late one evening it hit me like a ton of bricks.
Of all the things that was to drag me back home,
It wasn't missing dad or mum, the local wine or Italian bread,
It was the bloody channel water that I had grown up with,
So I left my job and board, packed my bags and back to Griffith I head.
That was forty years ago, and I am still here now,
Settled down, married with four lovely kids and never more to roam,
I am here forever, after experiencing the marvelous Sydney town,
And I will always thank the channel water for bringing me back home.