ASCCA
ASCCA (Australian Seniors Computer Club Association) very kindly assist us with answering some of your more tricky technical queries. They are a very useful point of contact for those wishing to embark on computer courses for the first time, brush up on their knowledge or meet people in their local area that have a shared interest in computers.
You can contact ASCCA via their website www.ascca.org.au and find out what is available in your area.
ASCCA Creative Writing competition winners
Well done to all those who entered the ASCCA Creative Writing Competition. AboutSeniors is delighted to be able to let you read the winning entries and announce the overall winner is Tom Ware.
Category 1 - Summit
Winner – Tom Ware
Special Mention – Lynton Bradford
Category 2 – Colour
Winner – Rollo Doust
Spec Mention – Lois Burns
Spec Mention – Peg Mortimer
Category 3 – Introduction
Winner - Kathleen Roberts
Spec Mention – Barry Stephenson
Spec Mention – Mary Cline
Spec Mention - Ingrid Van der Horst
Poetry
Spec Mention – Judith Joyce
Spec Mention – Lexie Warder
CATEGORY 1 - REACHING THE SUMMIT
Winner - Tom Ware - A Korean Christmas - extraordinarily powerful
It was cold and dark on the hill, but inside the dugout the soldiers felt snug and warm. The fighting had been bitter and bloody all along the front, but that was over now, for a while, anyway. For it was a time of truce; a forty-eight hour truce in which the opposing armies would cease to kill each other and attempt to celebrate a couple of days precious to them both.
The seven men sat on empty ammunition boxes around their make-shift table. They were playing cards. In front of them were little piles of coin money and a few crumpled notes of small denomination. Close by were several cans of American beer. Occupying a place of honour near the head of their plank table was a big, dark, raisin-studded Christmas cake. The eighth of their number, “The Kid,” was outside on sentry duty. They had let him take guard alone tonight; there would be no trouble.
Outside, the eighteen-year-old sat huddled in the corner of the sandbagged enclosure, his back against the tripod of the heavy machine gun. He felt proud to have been elected to stand guard. The boy had joined the squad only yesterday and already his mates had put him in a position of trust. His eyes flickered from left to right and then back again as he peered across the pale patch of snow beyond the barbed-wire perimeter.
Out there was the no-man’s land he had heard so much about. The Reds had agreed to a two-day cease fire, but “you couldn’t trust the oriental bastards,” he thought to himself. “What did Christmas mean to a North Korean?
It was then that he heard the sound, the slight squeak of a boot on fresh snow. The Kid raised his head, listening intently. There it was again. He could feel his heart beating rapidly somewhere up in his throat. No time to warn the fellows. Here they come - four, no five of them! The dim shapes moved slowly towards him. The Kid’s hands trembled as he fumbled off his mittens and released the safety catch on the machine gun.
The still night seemed to come alive as the automatic weapon blasted out bullets and a foot-long flame into the darkness. There were cries and screams and the sounds of running men.
The Kid’s seven comrades joined him. They tumbled out into the crisp air, the drink and warmth-induced drowsiness gone immediately. They strained their eyes as they squinted down the slope, rifles at the ready. But they did not shoot. There was nothing to shoot at. The soldiers could hear someone groaning but after a few minutes the sound ceased and there was nothing but the faint singing of the wind across the whitened hill.
Several hours passed and gradually, almost imperceptibly, the scene lightened. The men still crouched or lay behind the sandbags, most of them dozing fitfully. There had been no movement from the enemy front all night, no shelling, no aircraft overhead, not even a rifle shot. The sun lifted a wan disc over the horizon, its first weak rays shining upon the hill. It was then that the Kid saw them – the three figures like broken dolls, sprawled against the white. And around them the little packages of food and wood - carvings and model sampans - the Christmas presents the Koreans had been bringing to their enemies.
CATEGORY 2 - COLOUR
Winner - Rollo Dust - Black - an amazing reminder that there are many “Tinnys” still living in Australia today – to our shame
Special mention - Lois Burns - Colour - racial harmony abounds in this special piece
My colour is white, or so I am told yet when I look at my hands they look a sort of beige with a touch of pink, and if I stay in the sun too long I go rather tan, and if I stayed in the sun as long as I did when I was a teenager I could go as brown as a berry, these days I am smarter and limit my sunbathing because I’ve flirted enough with skin cancer in my life.
I have a friend who is black her name is Seru and she was born in Fiji and over there she is a princess here she is just Seru who does voluntary work, a lot of it for the RSL as she is the widow of an Australian ex-serviceman, and as such she is a valued member of the Women’s Auxiliary.
I have a neighbour who comes from the Greek Isle of Patmos she is whiter than brown, a lovely complexion.
I am friendly with a lady from India and her colour is sort of brown I am also friendly with a lady from Pakistan who is quite pleased that she is not as dark as the Indian lady.
I know two Scots ladies, one is swarthy and one is very fair owing to the fact that one has Spanish forbears way back in her ancestry and the other has Danish forbears way back in her ancestry the same applies to the Irish people as both countries were invaded by the Spanish and the Vikings who left their colouring behind this is where the Scots and Irish get their red hair from, every so often a family will have a red haired child which seems to come from nowhere but you can bet there is Viking blood in their ancestry.
I go to rehab gym at St George Hospital and in my group is a Cantonese lady and she is a different colour again, I call it cream.
I have a Maori friend, she is very brown, she has a happy face and a broad smile I think she is the happiest person I know.
My son-in-law comes from Malta he of course has very olive skin and my daughter, his wife is my only brown eyed child so my three grandchildren have lovely olive skin and brown eyes whereas my son has a very blue eyed blonde, daughter her father my son is also a blue eyed blonde and looks very much like my great grandfather who came from the Isle-of Wight UK.
So I guess colour in this sense is relevant to their ancestry.
Colour is a wonderful thing it can express so many different meanings. Some people judge people by their colour, some people remind you of a colour, my eldest daughter I call sunflower which doesn’t mean she is yellow but has a lovely open face, my other daughter reminds me of a pink rosebud as she has a closed private face but is sweet with it.
We all have blue days and grey days and sunny yellow days sometimes black days when we have been bereaved of a loved one and some days we have blessed days when a new life comes into the families.
Colour your life with the colours you love.
Special mention - Peg Mortimer - The Red Suit - This was a heartwarming story of love and loss and love
CATEGORY 3 - INTRODUCTION
Winner - Kathleen Roberts -The sins of the innocents - Resilience triumphs – thank you Kathleen for sharing an inspiring memory
The photograph of the girl, wearing a long white dress puzzled me. As long as I could remember, it hung on Nan’s living room wall, drawing attention away from her gallery of colourful, holy icons – the Virgin Mary, the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the Infant of Prague in sumptuous gold and jewels and more. All looked at me with expressions of love, caring, kindness, but the First Communicant’s face was expressionless.
“Nan, who’s that?” I asked, when my child-mind eventually started framing questions.
“That’s Noni.”
Nan’s abrupt reply indicated reluctance. In our extended family, questions were discouraged. “Don’t be cheeky!” was the usual adult reply to questions that were taboo. Nan, Aunt May, Aunt Madge, and Uncle Mikey did not talk about our family’s past but Kitty,our Mam, could not be silenced. We growing siblings and cousins repeatedly heard about the traumatic experiences that were to affect the lives of the Coughlans and their relatives.
It started when Southern Ireland was occupied by the Black & Tans. At that time Ireland was under British rule and their scarcity of jobs was partly solved by recruiting returned, British soldiers to the Irish constabulary to control unrest in Ireland. Cobh, our town on Great Island, in Cork Harbour received it’s quota of the recruits, nick-named, the Black ‘n Tans due to their makeshift uniforms of black pants and tan shirts.
These young men were not individually obnoxious, except in the minds of hot-headed objectors to their presence. In Cobh, where it was the custom for young men and women to stroll through the town centre in the evenings to meet each other and become acquainted, it was inevitable that some young Black ’n Tans and Irish girls exchanged pleasantries and got friendly.
Our Aunty May, about 15yrs old, became enamoured with one Black ‘n Tan and openly walked out with him. By the time hot-headed bully-boys focused on them, warning May that her dad would be killed if she did not terminate the relationship, she was pregnant and thought their threats were laughable.
Mam’s story was that, one night there was a loud hammering on their front door in Cottrell’s Row. Her dad, John Coughlan, opened it, to be confronted by a mob of locals brandishing sticks and pitchforks. Shouting “spy!” and “traitor” they hauled him outside and pulled a black hood over his head. He was kicked through the town with ever angrier accusations and blows. Then he was led back to the Camber below Cottrell’s Row.
Nan picked up six-year-old Noni, her youngest, and followed by May, Joan, Kitty (my Mam), Mikey and Madge, ran down to the stone wall that overlooked the moonlit beach. From there they watched, shocked and tearful, as their father was attacked by a crazed mob of neighbours until he lay unconscious at their feet. “Drown the Bastard!” was called out. It became a hair-raising chant.
Soon an old sail and an axle were carried into the circle where John Coughlan lay. He was lashed to the axle, stitched into the sail, rowed into the middle of Cork Harbour and dumped overboard.
Nan was now destitute with six children to support. Without proof of her husbands death she was denied a widow’s pension and May’s morning sickness revealed her pregnancy. Enquiries at some of the big houses along the High Road led to cleaning jobs. May had to stay home to care for the children.
While crumpling a newspaper to light a bedroom fire in one of the rich houses, Nan noticed a short report, of a man’s body being washed ashore in Ringaskiddy, on the mainland. The body was tied to an axle and stitched up in a sail. Now all she needed was for John’s body to be identified and she could claim a pension.
Pleading with the fishermen of Cobh, to row her across the harbour fell, on deaf ears, until after six weeks had passed ,one man took pity on her. When she eventually located the relevant authority who had the power to authorize an exhumation, he refused on the grounds that “It would be unidentifiable by now.”
So back she went in the rowboat to Cottrell’s Row and to continue her struggle to feed and clothe herself and children.
Soon a kindly neighbour revealed that someone had reported her to the authorities for neglecting her children, by leaving them with a minor while going out to work. Nan gathered the children and fled to her sister in Carrigtoul but the garda located them. Kitty, Madge and Noni were placed with the Sisters of Mercy in Rushbrook. Mikey shot through, disappeared until he was an adult.
Nan was refused visiting rights “Because you are a bad mother!” She petitioned the Bishop and although he tried, the nuns would not budge. Then someone told Nan that Noni was sick with pneumonia and fretting for her “Mam”. Back she went to the Bishop’s palace. Her petitions became a tormented flood. The Bishop was sorry for Noni and the nuns still believed that they were protecting the children from a “bad mother!” When he heard that Noni had died, he hired a photographer to take a picture of the dead child laid out on her bed, had it framed, and then presented this to Nan.
These events had repercussions for our whole family and I have written our family history as a memorial to our brave, resilient grandmother who we loved and admired beyond words.
Special Mention – Barry Stephenson - Dear Will, Bethany & Gail - A sincere note to future generations
Dear Will, Bethany and Gail,
I’ve no doubt all of you will be surprised to be receiving a letter from me, rather than a phone call. No, there is nothing serious happening, it’s just something I want to tell each of you without interruption, something to which I hope you will give a few minutes of quiet thought.
Do you recall the get-together we all had for Father’s Day 2007? We celebrated my forthcoming 71st birthday that same day, because Beth and family were moving to Melbourne.
On that occasion we chatted about many things but I recall particularly that the conversation touched temporarily on things like genealogy, biography and autobiographies. I remember this clearly, because somebody suggested that a life as exciting as mine should require no more than half a page, resulting in much laughter. Whatever did I do to deserve such disrespectful children?
Well, unbeknown to you, my elder sister Aunt Marge had once been keen to write a family history of our parents and family. From time to time, she would ask Joan, Robert and me to write our recollections of our childhood life.
Though we thought this wasn’t a bad idea, I regret to say that finding the time and inspiration to actually do this, saw the project drag out over five or six years. By the time Marge got sufficient info, her health was deteriorating, and with she being a person who agonized over the most minor details, the project was never completed before she died.
About a year after her death I was able to read Marge’s personal notes and those of my siblings, the result being that I began to ponder over things which had never previously crossed my mind.
As a result of that experience, I resolved to write my own life story, for I realized how little I knew of my parent’s life. What was their life like before marriage, what were their hopes and aspirations after marriage. I know they had plenty of hardships to overcome, but there must also have been moments of great joy. What these moments were I will never know. And I am poorer for my childish lack of concern for my parents needs.
You, my dears, would have regarded their life as even more mundane than mine, no motor car, no telephone, no television, but you must understand that these were not exceptional circumstances in that era.
So my personal recollections of my un-famous and insignificant life are now chronicled, my hope being that you or my later descendants, may find something of interest therein. It would be nice, if in the fullness of time, these copious notes would be offered to an historical society or to a library.
In compiling this record, I have tried to be completely frank, even including some of the mischievous things I did as a child and some of the not-so-wholesome ditties and poems, which were sniggered over by boys and young men of my ilk. These may well seem rather tame by todays standards.
You will also be surprised to learn that there was a period of about two years, when the marriage between Mum and I was on the brink of collapse. I hope we managed to hide that grim reality from you. I am glad we never went down that path, because the latter years were golden.
For me, one of the most difficult problems has been trying to recall the sequence in which certain events occurred, for there were only a few things in my siblings notes, which contradicted my own recollections, but thankfully it will be most likely be of little consequence to you. Could it be that my memory has clouded a smidgin over these many years?
I’ve chosen to divide this epic tome into two sections, the first deals with my life from childhood till my 21st birthday, the significance being that I had only met Mum about two weeks before my 21st, and that party was to be our first date. The second part deals with courtship, marriage, jobs building a house and raising a family.
Most unexpectedly I discovered that my recollection of Part 1 much more detailed than Part 2, very strange, though I’m sure your own memories of growing up at Saddler St will compensate for much of the detail I may have missed.
My intention is to have individual copies of these notes of mine attached to my Will for you, though if any or all of you feel there is good reason to expose my best and worst moments before that fateful time, I may reconsider that arrangement.
Finally, whatever the future may hold, I wish each of you a life as satisfying and rich in experience as mine. Thinking of you all with the utmost affection.
Sincerely,
Dad.
Special mention - Mary Cline - Hidden Identity - A short, but powerful, statement on identity
My divorce twenty-seven years after marriage plunged me into yet another crisis of identity, the first being that of the state of marriage and becoming a wife and then mother of two wonderful children.
My children and their descendants are the reason for my wanting to tell them about “Our story”, a heritage we share. Also, share with them some of my memories of the past meshed, as it happens to be, with global conflicts and world events that have subsequently affected all our lives today, changed the course of world history and my own in a more dramatic aspect than I ever envisaged.
My divorce seemed to be a long drawn out affair over a period of two years. I did not feel I had to revert to my maiden name because I had been accepted by my husband’s family. My children were known by his last name. I was their mother and they knew me by the ‘family’ name we all shared. Besides, I reasoned, all my ‘credentials’ were written in my married name apart from most of my educational qualifications. On paper, at least, I had two identities, in common with many other married women but I felt there was more to this ‘identity crisis’ in my mid-forties. It was a part of re-defining, ‘who’, I was, part of a heritage of travel, changing boundaries and frontiers in ‘space’ and ‘time’.
Revisiting the ‘past’ is a good way, perhaps, of understanding how we interpret our present context.
Special mention - Ingrid Van der Horst - Memories - A mind playing tricks is rich fodder for this writer
CATEGORY - POETRY
Special Mention – Judith Joyce - Black, White and Gray - Judith – a tour de force and very special prose poem
They called them Black when they came here
Over 200 years ago
They were White a Superior Race
Or so they told them so
The White Man took the Black man land
The land they had walked with pride
And now this proud Aboriginal race
Had to run away and hide.
My black ancestors had no hope
Against the white mans gun
So white man started ruling
And the land was white man run
White men took the black man’s woman
And started to interbreed
Black and white makes gray you know
But of this they took no heed
They though they could breed the colour out
Much like they did their sheep
But what they didn’t realize was
The colour ran more than skin deep
They stole the mixed race babies
Brought then up in white man’s ways
But they were never fully accepted
For they were neither black or white but grey
A new race dispossessed of their land
But also their identity
Some however did ok
Like those related to me
My great grand father from England came
And married my great grand mother
Who was the Darug lady that he loved
And for him there was no other
Through this union ten were born
With this Grey colorations
And they went on to marry
Folk from a lot of other nations
White and black mixed here well
Though some black was lost through the years
We have began to find our roots again
As the colour in our hearts reappears
I am one of these gray people
And very proud to be
English, Scottish, and of course
And an Aborigine
Special mention - Lexie Warder - Colours in the life of a Farmers Wife - Dorothy MacKellar eat your heart out!
“I love a sunburnt country”
Said the poet, ‘Dottie Mac’,
But did she ever see my plot
Of garden out the back?
It used to be all lush and green
As I did water oft,
But now it’s yellow, dry and worn,
The dust from off it wafts.
Our country’s colours all have changed,
Where once those hues were bright,
The lack of rain has pushed them out,
It’s not a pretty sight.
The farmer cannot plant his fields,
His plight is awfully sad,
We want again to see those crops,
This drought is really bad.
The hose is now taboo, we’re told,
The water we must save,
So gardens must be sacrificed,
The situation’s grave.
So, though I love a sunburnt Oz
The same as ‘Dottie Mac’,
I hope it rains and pours quite soon,
I want my garden back !!!
ASCCA Conference
Be enlightened by all your PC and mobile phone are capable of with the informative sessions at the Australian Seniors’ Computer Clubs Association (ASCCA) Conference.
The annual ASCCA Conference allows computer clubs and individuals to get together and discuss developments in technology and how they can be best used in every day life. You can find out the answers to those tricky PC problems that have been bugging you for months and meet others who are knew to technology or have a wealth of experience they are happy to share.
The conference will be held at the Powerhouse Museum in Sydney 27 and 28 August and is a great way to keep in touch with the latest in the world of seniors’ computing.
For more information or to register, visit ASCCA.
ASCCA Q&A – Trojan Horse Virus
Computer viruses are scary to us all. This issue, Tony Lenn of ASCCA answers @boutSeniors subscriber Bill H’s question about Trojan Horse Virus.
Q. Having trouble with a trojan horse virus called GENERAIC9.XLD. This virus keeps appearing every time I turn on my computer. I’ve run avg to get rid of it but it still keeps coming back. Being a senior I am completely at loss as to a solution. I am hoping your computer expert can help me out with the problem.
A. Fortunately I have not had Bill’s problem, but by doing a little web searching I found a number of ways to get rid of viruses, many of which required the download, registration and purchase of software. Also looking at a notice board I found the following text, which is reputed to work with AVG anti-virus software that Bill says he already has installed.
Answer by e.patterson Submitted on 4/6/2004:
You should not need to reformat. Firstly you should download AVG’s free antivirus. Its at grisoft. Next, if you have windows m.e it is quite easy to get rid of the trojan horses. Run AVG and it will heal ALMOST all the files. You will then be left with a file of the trojan (or several files depending on which it is) in your restore file. Make a note of the numbers that AVG comes up with these will be cpy files. Then you will need to unhide all hidden files. This will result in showing your restore file DO NOT DELETE THIS FILE. Next right click my computer, then right click properties and click the performance tab. At the bottom of that page, click the file system tab and on the next page click troubleshooting. Then on the final page find the disable restore file and check the box and click apply. You will then need to restart your computer. It might start in safe mode but usually M.E starts straight up. Before looking for the files by hand, open my computer then open c drive and right click on the restore file you will be presented with a chance to scan again with AVG. Do this and you will probably find the trojan has automatically been deleted, if not you will have to search for the files by hand and delete them. This sounds like a lot of work but it only takes about five mins from start to finish once you have AVG installed. I get trojans as regular as clockwork and find this is as easy a way as any to get rid of them again. For other malware I suggest ‘spybot’ search and destroy 1.2. This gets rid of spyware and also CWShredder for any other annoying little problems. All three can safely be run side by side and all are free for home users. Hope this helps some of you at least.
The website this information came from is: http://www.faqs.org/qa/qa-11503.html
2007 ASCCA Creative Writing Competition
Category 1 – A Memorable Happening
Marianne Camplin-Campbell
Westlakes Seniors Computer Club
“Severed Bond”
The Judge’s decision is final; it took a week to make
The little girl I though was mine, away from me he’ll take.
I’ve known her now for eight short years and tried to do my best
To bring her up without her Dad, doing work with little rest.
She was all I had to love and her father knowing this
Plotted with his new wife on a plan that could not miss.
The facts were, they were married and could surely offer more,
Than a woman who was single and was little more than poor.
They pleaded with the Judge that her future was secure,
With her in their possession, her emotions they could cure.
So with promises of love, security and wealth,
The Judge made his decision “It is better for her health
To live within a family and to have the finer things,
Than just a mother’s love and dreams, what could they ever bring?”
So my days are now so empty for the child I gave in birth
Knows someone else as “mother”, my life has little worth.
But one thing they’ll not take from me, are my dreams of later years
When my daughter will be with me and we’ll have no time for tears.
But now the years have come and gone, my time is running out
My little girl is now grown up, her thought are filled with doubt,
Her hatred has consumed her life and swears she’ll never be
The daughter I have longed for and swear I’ll never see.
Her children she has raised herself and kept them from the truth
Of ever knowing their Grandpa and never knowing me.
Now over forty years have passed and yet the dreams remain
Where my little girl is still a child and where I still have pain
I wonder when my life is gone and in the great beyond
If I’ll be given one more chance to hold her once again.
Category 2 - What learning to use a computer has meant to me
Connie Vallis
Computer Pals for Seniors The Hills
This year I celebrated my birthday by doing something special, something unique.
No...no, I didn’t paddle a canoe around Sydney Harbour, or climb the Bridge or attempt a parachute jump or anything quite that easy. Instead I accepted a real challenge.
With the need to upgrade my five year old computer, I bravely enrolled in a ‘Build your own Computer Course’ at Computer Pals – The Hills, where I am a foundation member and trainer of fundamentals.
Computers are such fun. They occupy a huge part of my life.
So with much excitement I went ahead and built my own, finding the whole experience wonderfully rewarding. Under the expert guidance of my tutor, Ken, slowly the mysteries of what makes this marvellous machine perform, magically began to unravel.
Enthusiastically I learned the real need for a motherboard and all its clever peripheral input and output devices. And a circuit board too, and a CPU, the absolute brain of all computers.
And I’m less ignorant of important terminologies like R.A.M., hard drives, storage devices, Floppy and CD drives etc. etc. etc. Thankfully I now have a much better understanding of all these things, many of which were previously a mystery.
I soon discovered them to be real objects, patiently waiting for me to install them. Yes...me, seventy six year old mother of four and granny of eleven. I had bravely taken the plunge to piece together this technological jigsaw.
I remember thinking to myself as I worked away, was it just ten years ago that my biggest computer challenge was correctly turning my machine on or off, frequently clicking on the wrong thing and fearful of what to do next?
And what about all that confusing jargon such as screen savers, Icons, menu bars, fonts, clipboards and taskbars etc. etc.
Yes...yes...it was all so daunting. But not now! Not anymore. Now at last I can begin to think that finally I am computer literate. Confidently able to converse with the so called experts.
My new PC and I are really compatible. Able to perform many remarkable feats. We create interesting letters, enhance special photos, download beautiful music and speak to and explore the world, from right here in the comfort of home.
So get with it folks and buy a computer. Or better still – build your own. It really is so much fun.
If I can do it, so can you.
Category 3 - I Wish …..
Joan Stott
Computer Pals for Seniors Ku-ring-gai
Garden of Memories
I am relaxing in my garden under the branches of the large silky oak tree. The petals of the magnolia tree float gently to the ground. A cheeky magpie comes closer, melodiously asking for permission to dig in the grass, a few chattering lorikeets are feeding in the Camellia bush and some noisy cockatoos argue in the gum trees. I close my eyes and wish - if only in my dreams- to visit again my childhood garden of happy memories.
It was an ordinary, English, suburban backyard with a neat square lawn, surrounded a border of flowers. Honeysuckle and sweet peas covered the timber fences. Snowdrops, crocuses and daffodils welcomed the spring, and then the roses came into bloom.
“Take these to your Aunt.” Uncle would say.
Flowers for the house.
It was a wartime ‘Dig for Victory’ garden with row after row of home grown vegetables.
“Put your Wellingtons on,” Auntie would order, “if you’re going down there.”
Where was Uncle?
Probably in his greenhouse pinching off the young shoots that were growing between the stems of his tomato plants. He would scratch my name on the young cucumbers and marrows so that I could watch it grow larger and larger. Sometimes we would sit and shell peas.
I was the potato-picker, the thinner-out of the carrots, radishes and young onions, the puller- up of lettuce and cabbage even with the wriggling caterpillars still on.
There was a plum tree, a pear tree and a Cox’s Orange Pippin and a Pease-good-nun-such cooking apple tree.
“Take these to your Aunt.” Uncle would say, filling my basket with apples.
Apple pie for tea (with custard).
There were raspberries and gooseberries and red and black currants.
Summer pudding for tea.
Sometimes he would be resting in his chair, smoking a cigarette.
“Shhh!” he would motion, finger to his lips. We would sit in silence and watch the birds searching for the poor defenseless worms in the newly-dug soil.
I was his apprentice gardener.
Why is that Kookaburra laughing? Does he know it is only a dream?
Major Section – A Portfolio
Les Langston
Carrington Computer Club for Seniors
Category 1: “An Outback Adventure”
Category 2: “Challenges, Challenges, Challenges!”
Category 3: “Dreams!”
An Outback Adventure
Our Big adventure was to explore the middle and upper gorge of Lawn Hill Gorge National Park, north-western Queensland, by hired flat bottomed canoe. Big; because we had never before “driven” a canoe in our combined 150 years.
I, and my wife June, successfully paddled the middle gorge, then man-handled our heavy conveyance up a man-made portage and into the upper gorge, at the narrow two metre high Indarra Falls. Ahead lay a narrow passage, between a falls-bent laminate of racing water and a closely packed canopy of Pandanus palms. Mindful of the nearby falls, without my knowledge, June paddled vigorously, unintentionally driving directly into the water hugging Pandanus branches ahead.
Knowing of their needle-like spines, she instantly leaned sharply to the left. As I looked up from gear stowing, I noted the Pandanus in attack mode, just as we rolled left and capsized. Imagine this scenario; one moment seated reassuringly in our fibreglass container and the next moment, floundering frighteningly under water. Humorous in retrospect, but at that instant, I wasn’t laughing!
Instinct, assisted by a trusty life vest, obviously took control as I rapidly resurfaced, albeit spluttering and gasping. Fine; my head’s above water, but where the hell is June?
Was she entangled below in Pandanus roots? Had she been carried downstream, possibly trapped within the falls; or even floating the preceding gorge? If so, how capable was I of rescuing her?
Then with intense relief I saw an arm clawing up the side of the upturned canoe – she had emerged beneath it!
That’s when adrenalin took over! How I raised that canoe while treading water; how I dragged June clear and dog-paddled her to relative safety; how I managed to re-float the canoe, still treading water; is all far beyond my comprehension. Given a potential tragedy, my ability to evaluate the situation with objectivity, sans neither panic nor fear, is nothing short of amazing. In fact, unbelievable!
Fortunately, two couples arrived and assumed command of our situation. Satisfied we were unharmed, they placed the canoe back into the middle gorge and put us aboard, from whence we retuned safely, but drenched, to camp.
Should septuagenarian grey nomads be so adventurous? I still believe so, despite the possibility of what may well have proved a fatal experience.
But it put paid to further thoughts of canoeing!
Challenges, Challenges, Challenges!
A year or so prior to retirement, my employer installed an early version personal computer with the comment “take the manuals home and have a read Les, you will be fluent within hours.” Oh yeah!
To the contrary, my concentration was on how “fred” (frigging ridiculous electronic device) might improve the efficiency of the Sales Department, rather than how and what buttons to press. So I applied my final few months devising appropriate systems for introduction upon my departure.
Then I spent over two years caravanning around Australia, enjoying an hitherto unknown relaxed lifestyle and writing copious notes about places and people visited and met in the process. Even then, I never considered a computer as an aid in recording those experiences. Much later in retirement, I purchased a second caravan and took many more extensive trips, totalling another two years of travel – and further copious notes.
Then the “penny dropped”. To covert my scribbled disjointed, sometimes indecipherable, notes into any semblance of readable order and clarity I needed a computer. And more importantly, learn how to use it!
For what seemed forever I persevered by trying to understand volume upon volume of “computer speak” and creating similar volumes of awful mistakes, while I puzzled and wrestled with procedures I couldn’t comprehend. At the same time, I attended numerous ASSCA presentations, pestering the President for a seniors’ computer club to be formed in my district. I guess in desperation, she finally suggested that I should start a club myself. I guess in desperation, I took her advice!
An opportunity to do so arose when I moved to a retirement village that encouraged residents to engage in mental, as well as physical activities. That was six years ago. Membership now exceeds 300, we meet monthly, conduct nine training sessions per week totalling some 6000 tuition hours per annum. Approximately 30 trainers and helpers offer 14 different I.T. subject courses. Last count, 700 odd names were listed for training courses. A success story indeed!
What has this meant to me? I now know how to use a computer. I have experienced tremendous satisfaction from assisting fellow seniors, both in administration and teaching. I believe I am making a worthwhile community contribution. I have enjoyed continuing mental stimulus in the process. Perhaps of lesser importance, I gained a Premier’s Seniors Achievement Award for services rendered.
Incidentally, I have yet to convert those copious notes into intelligible stories!
Dreams!
Regardless of status, influence, wealth, property, possessions or whatever, it seems the norm of human nature is to desire anything that we don’t currently have. Or at least it would appear to be the way of a majority of folk, rich or poor.
The latter of course, can be excused such materialism! Yet, an in-depth study of the real “have-nots”, those who have been born and bred to a life of nothing but abject poverty and deprivation, might reveal that such avarice is rarely paramount. Perhaps their life is fully devoted to just existing, without labouring on the advantages of others, if indeed they were aware of such differences.
Certainly not a ‘have”, but indeed one of the fortunate, I could somewhat selfishly wish for:
· Great wealth; Why? I have sufficient to enjoy wholesome food and live comfortably.
· The latest in home audio/visual equipment; Why? I would no doubt spend most of my life glued to a television set, instead of facing enjoyable mental and physical activities.
· Supreme physical fitness; Why? No doubt I would burn myself out trying to set records of stamina beyond my capabilities. And despite my age, I currently cope.
· Freedom; Why? I already have all the freedom I require. Besides, not to consider the needs of others is selfish in the extreme.
· Power; Why? The ability to exercise power over others usually has a habit of turning around and “biting” you.
· Popularity; Why? There’s always a price to pay for being constantly in the limelight.
No, all of the above are mere superficialities in the greater scheme of life; gratifying perhaps for some period, but never a life long reward.
Actually, I have two wishes:
a) nothing more than I currently have and enjoy.
b) the continued wisdom to appreciate my good fortune!
Q&A – Jack’s computer upgrade
Q. I wish to change from a computer running Windows 98 to one running Microsoft XP.
What would be transferable and how should it be done?
A. Unfortunately, you can’t go from Windows 98 to XP. You are going to need a new computer. It’s a good idea to get a computer set up with Windows Vista Premium. Most Windows 98 software will not work on Windows XP or Vista and remember all or some of your hardware may not work on XP or Vista.
Question and answer – Outlook shutdown
This week in our technology section, Tony Lenn from the Australian Seniors Computer Clubs Association (ASCCA) answers Bob’s question about Outlook Express shutdown.
Q. Bob
I am having trouble with my Outlook Express connection. Over the last few weeks I am being instantly disconnected as soon as I click on the Outlook icon.
The Outlook window appears and then it disconnects. I am using Windows 98 and Optusnet as my ISP connections. Several phone calls to the Optusnet helpline has not solved the problem. And another problem – many e-mails have pictures attached but all that appears when opened is a red cross in a small box in the top left hand side inside the frame. Any suggestions please?
A. It sounds as if you are using dial up access to the internet. The first thing to check is the ‘options’ under the ‘tools’ menu. There is an option under ‘connections’ where Outlook Express hangs up after receiving messages. If there are no messages then Outlook will hang up soon after it is connected. The second problem may also be a setting in the options. There is an option in the Security tab to ‘block images and other external content in html e-mail’.
Hope this helps, Tony Lenn.
Question and answer – flickering screens and creating a website
This week, the Australian Seniors Computer Clubs Association (ASCCA) answers your questions on the simplest and most complex computer issues: a flickering monitor and how to create a website.
Q. Heather
I have a problem with a new PC: the screen flickers and periodically goes blank. Hope you can help?
A. The problem could be with the monitor’s power supply or the video card in the PC. I suggest that you run the following tests so that you will be able to work out just which unit has the problem.
Test one: put the monitor onto another PC. If the problem is still there, I would suspect the power supply in the monitor has an intermittent fault.
Answer: Get the monitor fixed or get a new one. If your PC is new, it is likely that your monitor is still under warranty. Perhaps check that first!
Test two: if the problem goes away, the fault is most likely the video card in the PC. If this proves to be the problem, change the video card, it’s the cheapest fix.
Q. I am 60 years old and still working. I’d like to learn some details about website building, particularly ecommerce, autoresponders, inserting ‘email a friend feature’, customer databases, bulk emails, shopping cart etc. I am prepared to pay some money to learn these, if requested. I live in West Ryde, NSW.
A. Creating a website is a very satisfying project, whether for commercial purposes, for sharing your hobby or your family pictures on a site with a password.
There are a myriad ways to gain the skills required – from using a template from the web to building an interactive site for a club membership database or to sell products or services.
Some computer clubs for seniors have special interest groups for web-builders, but most clubs do not run courses in web design. Some clubs may hold irregular courses in basic html code, so it is worth asking the question. Go to the Australian Seniors Computer Clubs Association member clubs page at www.seniorcomputing.org/members.html to find clubs near you.
Getting together to solve problems in web-building can be very productive, because often a problem shared is a problem solved. But generally, formal web-building courses are run through TAFE (diplomas and certificates), WEA, CAE or other community colleges and mostly at weekends or evenings. Courses start from basic code editing to complex courses in e-commerce.
Generally a web-hosting service will offer its subscribers a range of code for auto-responders and counters, computer data bases and other features for e-commerce, and you should explore these when researching a suitable web host.
There are many excellent internet sites which provide source code for specific purposes, and tutorials which show you step-by-step how to do it. For example, simply type ‘Auto-responders + tutorials + source code’ into Google, and you will find plenty of leads. You can cut and paste examples into your own work.
There are also many easy to understand and friendly tutorials on html – or xhtml – and cascading style sheets – the building blocks of web design. Templates also abound on the internet. Many of these are available for free and you can also download open source web editors. Look for web editors and templates which provide accessible features and meet the international standards of the World Wide Web Consortium (W3C).
Local bookstores such as Dymocks or Angus & Robertson also carry a range of books on these topics.
I personally like the following sites:
www.webaim.org
www.sitepoint.com
www.oswd.org
www.useit.com
Whatever you do, make sure the design is flexible enough to be viewed in a range of font sizes and that colour contrast is adequate. This can easily be achieved by using cascading style sheets to underpin your design.
As you can see, there is no easy answer to learning web design. It is important to have a thorough understanding of the basics of xhtml (the update of html, which is not adequate for building dynamic databases) and cascading style sheets. Your other important resource is time and effort – time to research, experiment and test your designs and effort in self-learning.
CD ROM blues
Peter Stanhope, Training Officer at the Australian Seniors Computer Clubs Association (ASCCA) answers this tricky question about how best to fix a CD ROM.
Q. Dee
My CD Rom drive will not read the discs. I am running XP (came pre-installed on my 2002 machine). The problem started last year and after much chatting with the nice support people at HP, I still have the same problem. I have updated the registries, made sure that the CD drive was showing in the BIOS, reseated the IDE cables and probably more than I can remember at this point. Device manager is showing that the device is ‘working properly’; however, when I insert either data or music discs, the system doesn’t respond. The drive door opens though. Any suggestions would be appreciated.
A. By coincidence, I have had a similar problem to the one you describe. The drive would spin, the busy light would come on, but the CD drive could not read the disk. My problem turned out to be a faulty laser light, so the drive would not read the disk. Because computer technicians commonly charge $75–$100 per hour, I found it was cheaper to replace the drive than to have it repaired. Since you appear to have no problem opening up your computer and getting into the internals, you too will find it cheaper to replace your CD or DVD drive than to have it repaired.
You should be aware that it’s very difficult to buy a new CD drive these days, as they are no longer manufactured. DVD drives are backwards compatible with CDs and are just as cheap. I have seen new DVD drives as low as $22 in the markets, but shop prices are more like $32–$40.