The Struggle for Little Mountain: Why You Should Help!

The struggle for Little Mountain…and my memories of Little Norway I spent some of my early years in emergency housing in Little Norway in Toronto (right next to the Maple Leaf Stadium). Toronto was experiencing a massive post-war housing shortage and an Emergency Housing Program was implemented, making housing available to returning veterans. It made… Continue reading The Struggle for Little Mountain: Why You Should Help!

Emboldened by the Bentley Blockade

  It’s been ten days since the text arrived announcing the suspension of Metgasco’s license to drill for oil at Bentley.   Only ten days — and life has changed dramatically for many of us.   I search for a word for this new feeling and find an old one:   Embolden: “To give someone… Continue reading Emboldened by the Bentley Blockade

Metgasco’s “Community Consultative”: a Moment of Hilarity for the Bentley Blockade

I am old enough to have studied Latin in high school. It helps make me a good speller.  A moment of hilarity And today, Latin provided a moment of hilarity in battle to bring Metgasco to see reason about gas mining in the Northern Rivers. The goss now is that Metgasco is encouraging its shareholders… Continue reading Metgasco’s “Community Consultative”: a Moment of Hilarity for the Bentley Blockade

The Sun also Rises

    The sun also arises, and the sun goes down, and hastens to its place where it arose. It rises at one end of the heavens and makes its circuit to the other; nothing is deprived of its warmth.   I’m not much for reading the Bible but I love the odd aphorism. And… Continue reading The Sun also Rises

The Bentley Blockade: from Cassandra, disbelieved prophetess

In mid-2011, a speaker’s agent rang me to say he had an invitation for a good speaking engagement.   “It’s with APPEA,” he said, “And you can talk about community engagement.”   APPEA. Hmmm. I rang off and logged on.   APPEA: Australian Petroleum Production and Exploration Association is the peak national body representing Australia’s… Continue reading The Bentley Blockade: from Cassandra, disbelieved prophetess

The Bentley Blockade: Weeping for the Earth

The text!   It would have looked better if I were digging out the composting toilet or planting organic veggies. But the truth is I was half-way into an egg and sausage McMuffin in Casino when the text came from Bentley.   I had to ring Yollana to make sure I had it right.  … Continue reading The Bentley Blockade: Weeping for the Earth

Bentley CSG Blockade: Open Letter to Brad Hazzard, NSW Minister for Police

  Bentley CSG Blockade, NSW https://northernriversguardians.org/?page_id=5240 5 May 2014 Open letter to the NSW Minister for Police, Brad Hazzard   Dear Minister:   I am a 71-year-old resident of the Northern Rivers of New South Wales and a Life Fellow of the Planning Institute of Australia. I hold a doctorate in environmental ethics from the… Continue reading Bentley CSG Blockade: Open Letter to Brad Hazzard, NSW Minister for Police

Bentley CSG Blockade: You Can’t Just Take My Dreams Away

  Nimbin, 28 April 2014   It was bucketing rain at dawn at the Bentley Blockade this morning. The blockade against unconventional gas mining. No guitars or drums because of the rain. There were lots of people there but not a lot were singing.   Then, magically, about 5 am, a woman with a strong,… Continue reading Bentley CSG Blockade: You Can’t Just Take My Dreams Away

The Bentley CSG Blockade: Something Changes in Me

 First reflections on the Bentley CSG Blockade   21 April 2014       A song has been going round in my head today, after greeting the dawn at the Bentley Blockade (https://northernriversguardians.org/). This is a blockade to prevent Metgasco from drilling for unconventional gas in farmland near Bentley, NSW.     It’s Holly Near’s… Continue reading The Bentley CSG Blockade: Something Changes in Me

Gone to God

Jolted awake by the phone at 4am in my friend’s house in Berkeley, I knew. My father was dead. In Canada: thousands of miles away. My good parent: dead at 69. I was 37. Back in Australia, I grieved alone for months.   My loving, distressed husband finally announced, “I’m worried, Wendy. This grief has… Continue reading Gone to God