Merril and I went to watch hockey matches at the Commonwealth Games.
We watched it with mates of ours.  He was from Ghana and she from Japan.  I had a transfer put onto a tee shirt of Ghana and I bought a Ghanan flag.  I actually combined it with my love of stamps and learned a bit about Ghana I had no idea about.  I ended up giving him the Ghanan flag.  We were also watching South Africa play so I bought a South African flag as well.  That one I still have.  It was good company and enjoyable to watch.
When I was in Townsville, I used to play table tennis under our house against an indigenous guy (the place was high set – we did not lie on our tummies to play).  We would have the time of our lives.  I will never forget the laughter.
At work I used to play table tennis in lunch time with a guy from Taiwan. He was the only person I have ever played who had a back hand played with a forehand action.  It is hard to explain but it is popular in Asia.
One thing I have found is that no matter the race or creed we all love the same things.  Whether working hard or playing hard we had similar goals.  There are those right into things and those who’s attitude leaves something to be desired.  This is not a trait of one particular race only, but from my experience it is universal.
It seems to me we all share the start.  How we finish is totally up to each individual.  
There are things about culture I can miss to my detriment and potential embarrassment.  I may be a big believer in “when in Rome do as the Romans do” but I also strongly feel to give custom where custom is due.  There are times when respect determines I should behave a way, that may be foreign to me but is normal to another.
For me custom is to be celebrated and differences embraced (I love how the Indians love to dance).  It is deviations which lead to unreasonable death and destruction which I avoid.  It appears to me all cultures share that.
As far as I am concerned, we are all in this together.  I will give and take help no matter where it comes from.  Everyone needs it from time to time.

I was wondering what profound thing I could write about today.  Like, “what is the meaning of life?” or “Why is there air?’” (to blow up volley balls).
But I started thinking about our crow.  I say our crow, but he is not really ours.  He visits us on a daily basis.  He likes to wander our yard.  We feed him regularly.  I want Merril at some stage to get a picture of me and him sitting together.  He perches on the chair next to me in the yard, and we both stare meaningfully into the middle distance.
The thing is though, like me he is getting old.  Once upon a time he was king pin.  Now he seems to feel more secure in the yard when we are there.  He looks heavenward.  I think that is because that is where he has been attacked from.  Not by one crow.  But by two.  Twice we have rescued him from an aerial assault.
It seems to me it is a fact of life that living produces age.  It is often said that in the head someone may not feel older, but for the body it is different.  Sometimes aches and pains come on for no apparent reason.  It used to be rock and roll was a form of music but now it is me getting up of a morning.
But I will always go into bat for older people.  So often they can seem to be discarded while still having so much to give.  I find that older age can come in two forms.  I have seen both. 
The first is closed and it is like there is nothing more to learn and their way is the only way.  That to me is hard for someone and others.  No one jumps at the chance of doing things totally another’s way.  It is fighting a loosing and ultimately lonely battle.
The other way is remaining open.  Realizing the more I know, the more I know I don’t know.  But that is not a threat.  I have something to give, and I have something to learn. 
Others of like mind and like outlook are attracted.  It seems to me there is a freedom in not pretending or thinking I know it all.  Wonder and growth remain.
Maybe not for crows.  But young or old we love him.

This is a week off the Market we run.  We have it the 1st and 3rd Wednesday and Saturday each month.  All proceeds go to a food pantry.
One of the advantages of running such a thing is we are the first to see what will be for sale.  Stuff donated was destined either for the dump or another charity.
What never ceases to amaze me is the worth of things donated which cost a maximum of $2 to purchase.  The man bag I use all the time was a market item.  I had never thought of using such a thing but I can see why such things are used.
Maybe I am taking it too far but I tell Merril occasionally that my man bag and I are having a moment.  It is like a permanent fixture of mine.  Well, it is a permanent fixture when I have trouble getting it off.  I normally like to fight such battles in private.
I am constantly amazed at uses people have for items.  One person bought a pile of bambo plates.  The reason was they like to but figurines on such things.  Another person bought some toy soldiers we had in packets.  The reason.  They paint them and display them.
I must confess I have a dinosaur I keep at the front of our shed.  He likes to keep a low profile.  I think it may be too low a profile as no one notices him.
That is not to be confused with the dinosaur I keep on our letter box.  He looks ferocious but I have my doubts he is being taken seriously.  We still get bills.  Also I recently got a picture of a bug on him.  The bug did not appear threatened at all by the teeth on display.  The time is fast approaching I need to bring him in for the night.  We had one disappear one Halloween night - It was a pity as even though I do not remember what he looked like, and he had never been given a name, we were close.
For sure there is some interesting stuff at the market.  I am pleased to say the vast majority of stuff goes to those who can use it and feel they are getting a bargain.