What is a hobby?

While filling out a form I came to a section asking about hobbies/interests/sport. I ticked the box. 
Then it wanted details.

Scrambling for the answer in my head was like looking for a handful of pins in the storage area at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark - my brain was overwhelmed by the task. Obviously the author of the form did not know me.

Interest? I have many of those - should I organise them into groups or rate them from highest interest down?   How do I tell what is an interest and what is a necessary part of my life and what is a hobby? There are some things that we do just because that is what we do.

I looked for definitions.

‘A hobby is an activity regularly carried out for pleasure in one's leisure time.   

The word hobby was also found in Middle English as a description of a small horse as in hobi or hobby horse - which could have come from the surname Hobin, Hobert or Robert, Hobbi and Robbie being nicknames for Robert.
And it was also a migratory Old World falcon with long narrow wings but that is another story.  So....’

I found a list of 50 most popular hobbies. 

More than half were what I would call sport or physical activities so I crossed them off as not hobbies. 

I don't count eating, cooking, walking or shopping because they are things we do to live ... how could they be hobbies?  

Travelling, listening to music, sleeping and computing were on the list too - I'm surprised that breathing wasn't there.

Reading and writing ... we do those everyday and sometimes we extend them to reading or writing whole books, but they are both daily activities.

Sewing, taking photos, watching TV and movies, computing and socialising - all part-of-my-normal-daily-life.

I like crossword puzzles,but not the cryptic ones, and I love solving the whole puzzle so prefer it to be easy. This activity is a really good for brain function - so not a hobby, more of a medicine.

Craft can be anything you make yourself from knitting to woodwork and most crafts have a practical or decorative use or give us a sense of achievement so they are necessary to our quality of life. But it's not a matter of thinking, hmmmm, I think I'll do some craft now – for me it's more of an extension of other things I'm involved in or thinking about.

Of course if the craft is sticking paddle pop sticks together or gluing pasta to paper then that is an exercise in fine motor skills to help with more necessary activities later on – so it’s training.

Gardening can be a hobby or an activity. Growing food or herbs or plants add value to the landscape, soil or wildlife, and that's not a hobby. If it's growing flowers then that's therapy and necessary to our wellbeing.

Finally at the bottom of the list was volunteer work. Is that a hobby? I think it's a necessary survival activity for our society and an act of caring that benefits the giver and the receiver. Good for mental health – so not a hobby.

It’s back to eating and sleeping – that’s what I do for pleasure during the time I have left over from my interests and activities and my daily life.

Lest We Forget

  

ANZAC DAY 2017:  So much upset this year, caused by the thoughtless use of the phrase ‘Lest we Forget’.   And I am not comfortable with the use of this now sacred phrase to promote a political point of view – and yet, when I asked around, in person and on-line, no one could tell me the origin or the deeper meaning apart from a ‘reminder to remember’.

I think it’s a warning, even a veiled threat – and with good reason. We need warnings and we need to understand consequences – that does not stop when you grow up.

I like to look at origins when I am interested in a subject, to help me understand the meaning even if it has changed from the original. I was not surprised to find that the phrase comes from the words of Moses, in the Old Testament.

Deuteronomy 6:12 (KJV)  Then beware lest thou forget the LORD, which brought thee forth out of the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage.

-        It is a reminder, a warning that when we come into a time of ease and plenty our attention can slip so that it focuses only on the good things we have and not on where they came from.

Inspired by this verse, Rudyard Kipling wrote his poem/hymn, ‘Recession’ in 1897.

A recessional is music or a hymn that is played at the end of a religious service. Kipling wrote this as a reminder of the fragility of wealth and power (of the British Empire) – a warning that if we forget how we achieved success, where it came from, we may find we are lacking when we need extra. It was not written as a memorial to those fallen in war.

God of our fathers, known of old,
  Lord of our far-flung battle line,
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
  Dominion over palm and pine—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

etc….

As these words were heard again and again, at the end of five verses, and the close of the church service, it is easy to see that the words and meaning would be applied to other areas as a reminder of great loss.  

There are a number of modern ‘lest we forget’ quotes but the meaning is not always the same.  It seems that, if a passage begins with Lest we forget and then states what we should remember, or lest we forget pops up in the middle of a sentence, the meaning is not the same as the simple, lone warning at the end of the text.  Lest we Forget.

After WWI the phrase came into common usage through the British Commonwealth, appearing on war memorials, headstones and in epitaphs as a plea to not forget the sacrifice made by so many.

In Australia 'Lest we Forget' is a registered trademark, owned by the RSL on behalf of our returned service men and women.

The first Anzac commemorations were held on 25^th April 1916, a year after Australian and New Zealand soldiers set out to capture the Gallipoli peninsula. By the 1920's it had been established as a National day and now, sadly, it goes beyond that single anniversary and we honour all who have died in war or conflict since.  We hear words such as honour, courage, mateship and sacrifice linked with national identity and Australian spirit. All this is good and true and an important part of our culture, but the phrase we have attached to the day is still a warning that we must heed and we must pass down the generations - because we do forget.  

A Magpie Story

A MAGPIE STORY

Australian Magpies are not the same as the European Magpie. We have several types in Australia, some mostly white, some mostly black.  Many people don't like Maggies. It could be their beady little eyes and hard pointed beaks, their protectiveness during nesting season and the aggressiveness that chases a boy on a bike, a goanna up a tree, or adults walking nearby. They dive at the head and shoulders and hit really hard. 

I have been attacked, and while being struck on the back with such force was frightening, I had to admire the bravery of little creature. When they think their nests are under threat the magpies are fearless.

I love their song. I love to listen to their choir practice though the demanding screeches of their young are not as melodic. They sing in harmony, all together or in groups. They sing rounds and duets and solos.

 I once lived in a house in the forest – not a forest like the three bears had, but a eucalyptus forest with an assortment of introduced trees that surrounded the house. The open veranda was a great introduction to the local wildlife. Magpies were frequent visitors and such friendly visitors, or is that pushy, that we had to keep the screen door closed to keep them out of the kitchen.

It was hard to resist throwing meat and fruit scraps out for them, especially when I saw how hardworking and patient they were with their demanding babies. The youngsters, who seem to be the same size as the group of adults who care for them, scream and squawk for food unless their beak is full. Sometimes it takes six adults - both parents, older siblings, aunties and uncles, to care for just one speckled baby.  No wonder the fast food outlet bowl of cat food, on our veranda was checked out daily.

I had a very touching experience with one magpie families. This group had been nesting near our house for several years and I’m sure I could recognise some of the individual birds. They always announced their arrival, loudly ordering food scraps and treats. Often one or two birds knocked with their beaks on the kitchen door to get my attention. This day their calling was different.

From the veranda I could see six birds standing in arc on the ground below, behind a crippled bird. It was small but all black like the adult birds. The right wing stuck out at an odd angle and the right leg was injured so the bird's body twisted to one side, trying to balance. The group ignored the toast crust I threw and one by one flew away, leaving the injured one behind, with me.

I didn't know what to do. I tried phoning the people who cared for wild birds in our area but there was no answer - this was in the early days of the local WILVOS.  I looked at the pathetic little bird. He looked back. When I went closer he moved away.  So, he was distressed - I kept my distance.

After an hour or so he decided to move. He walked away, limping. I watched and followed as he moved under the bracken and started up a steep slope, toward the nesting trees.  It was hard work for him. He pushed his way through ferns and long grass and it took him all afternoon to cover a very short distance. As it grew dark the little bird crawled into thick bladed grass and I had to leave him there. I thought about him all night.

I knew from TV documentaries that it's best not to interfere with the natural order of things. A vet once told me that touching an injured wild animal can kill it by causing extreme stress.  When I was young, and we had cracker night, people put their guinea pigs inside the house under blankets so they didn't die of fright.  I also knew the local goannas and carpet snakes saw injured birds and animals as easy prey.  It seems there is no compassion amongst animals.

The next morning I expected to find him dead or gone but the brave little fella was still there. He refused the scraps of minced meat I offered.  As the sun warmed the ground he started off again, heading up the hill to the line of trees that magpies favoured.

Again I followed at a distance.

Like a brave wounded soldier he struggled on, ignoring me unless I got too close. Finally he reached the top of the hill, and stopped, exhausted. I left water close to him and checked on him every half hour or so. He lay panting, in a bird way, occasionally lifting his head. I didn't want a goanna or the snake to find him. There was no way he get into the trees and no sign of other magpies. I got a large cardboard box and made a fence around him. I kept watch and talked to him about the trees and all the birds. At sunset he died and we buried him beside the track, under his tree.

I’ve never forgotten him.

--------------

This Magpie rhyme comes from England.  Apparently seeing two Magpies together is lucky. I must have a lot of luck.

One for sorrow, Two for joy,

Three for a girl, Four for a boy,

Five for silver, Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.

Eight for a wish, Nine for a kiss

Ten for a bird that you won't want to miss.

The herb one third of us hate

CORIANDER

I love my herb garden and even have a herb salad with breakfast. I usually only grow what I know we will eat and enjoy but now and then I add something new, and I thought coriander might be interesting.

I had never tasted coriander/cilantro, but it was often referred to as Asian parsley and it looks a little like flat parsley. So, thinking it was similar to the parsley I eat daily, I bought coriander seeds.

Three months later nothing had come up so, I bought a punnet of coriander seedlings. I was persistent.

The plants thrived, to my delight, and I looked forward to having them in a salad.

I usually grow lots of parsley but recently we've had trouble with Root Knot Nematode and my parsley turned yellow, as did my few tomatoes and our ginger crop, and failed to thrive. Pulling up the affected plants revealed nasty nodes/lumps on the roots, which do not come off if you rub them. There is an invisible worm eating the root.

Nematodes, or Eel Worms, are colourless, microscopic worm like animals. Most are harmless to plants, some are even beneficial, but the Root Knot Nematode is a plant parasite. Apparently you can fumigate the soil by growing black mustard seed, and digging it in, but it's best to not grow the same crop there again.

But that's enough about miserable nematodes and back to the smelly coriander.

While browsing at our local nursery, for garden plants and lettuce, I noticed they had a special on Asian/Thai coriander, so I bought one. Thai coriander looks nothing like the parsley like common coriander. You would think it was a completely different plant, except for the smell.

The long flat leaves of Thai coriander have spikes along the sides and the nursery staff told me how to trim those off with scissors and to slice it into stews, soups,stir fries and meat dishes. They said it had a stronger flavour than the common coriander. I took my new spikey plant home and it is growing so well moved it into a bigger pot twice. I was aware that the smell from it was a little different, peppery I thought, but things don't always taste the way they smell. Today, after walking around the garden with a visitor, I decided to try some so .... and I added thin slices of half a leaf from the Thai coriander plant to our stir fry for dinner.

Well - talk about a ruined meal! 
My husband said, "This is very tasty". 
I wanted to spit it out.

Hours later the inside of my lips were still burning and I could smell it in the skin of my hands. Horrible.

So, I looked it up.....

.... and it seems that people have a love or hate reaction to coriander - similar to licorice, Brussels sprouts, vegemite, celery or gin .... you either love it or you don't. I am okay with all the above, except licorice, and now coriander. I hate it.

A scientific survey of 30,000 people identified two genetic variants linked to the taste and smell of coriander. Different people may perceive the taste of coriander leaves differently. Some say it has a refreshing, lemony or lime-like flavor, and others have a strong aversion to its taste and smell, characterizing it as soapy or rotten. I think it's just too strong, not bitter but heavy .... in the way licorice is too strong a flavour.

Apparently over 30% of people have the coriander-hating, OR6A3, gene, and it is thought to be inherited - so blame your parents.

Wikki says: 'OR6A2, lies within a cluster of olfactory-receptor genes, and encodes a receptor that is highly sensitive to aldehyde chemicals. Flavor chemists have found that the coriander aroma is created by a half-dozen or so substances, and most of these are aldehydes. Those who dislike the taste are sensitive to the offending unsaturated aldehydes, while simultaneously may also be unable to detect the aromatic chemicals that others find pleasant. Association between its taste and several other genes, including a bitter-taste receptor, have also been found'.

People can react differently to certain smells. Nice to now it's not just me. I will stick to celery, vegemite and gin.

A little where, what, why about the herb. Coriander is native to regions spanning from southern Europe and northern Africa to southwestern Asia. All parts of the plant are edible, but the fresh leaves and the dried seeds are the parts most traditionally used in cooking. Coriander is common in South Asian, Southeast Asian, Indian, Middle Eastern, Caucasian, Central Asian, Mediterranean, Tex-Mex, Latin American, Brazilian, Portuguese, Chinese and African cuisines.

Thai coriander

Common coriander