Yes, I’m talking about the Queensland Floods that have thrown Brisbane and Queensland into 75% disaster zone and the chaos has been described by Premier Anna Bligh as being of ‘post war proportions’.
There has been a lot of comparisons between this flood and the 1974 floods when the Brisbane river broke its banks once before. I wasn’t living in Brisbane then, I wasn't even in Australia so I have no recollection of it, but like many, have heard the stories. What happened here in January, 2011 is a new story - our story. For some - a repeated story.
Click on picture for a slideshow of flood afffected areas
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| Toowoomba |
I haven’t blogged about it because quite frankly, I don’t know what to say. I’ve been rendered speechless and there are so many good blogs out there who have managed to report the deluge succinctly and with something to say. I, on the other hand don’t know what to say except: for giving condolences for lives lost; for homes lost; for treasured memories lost. My heart breaks for each and every one of you.
On my walk around Moreton Bay (which has been unaffected by flood inundation) the day after the deluge is when it started to really sink in. I had clear evidence of the debris being washed up into the bay from the Brisbane river: furniture; huge water tanks; massive dead pythons; rotting fruit and vegetables, and then there is the muddy water - the stink.
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| Margate Beach |
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| Queens Beach |
No longer was I watching images on the television: the shocking images of people being washed away to their death; houses and cars completely submerged; rail lines buckled; domestic animals and wildlife dead while others struggled for survival.
Just the simple images of debris and the filthy ocean and smell made it all real. But of course nowhere near the proportions of what people are dealing with in places like West End, Rosalie, Toowong, Goodna, Ipswich and the list continues. The stink I’ve heard is quite putrid not to mention toxic!
For those of you who don’t know, I became a naturalised Australian in 1991 after leaving the shores of New Zealand behind me in 1984 for the bright lights of Sydney. Sydney became my home, my shelter, my new birth place. In that moment of taking the oath I was so proud to be an Australian and have embraced the Australian way of life ever since.
Since moving to Brisbane in 1994, I’ve spent most of my time bayside in the Sandgate area and more recently have embraced the peninsula which I love to bits. Over the past few days I’ve seen Brisbane rally to their neighbours in crisis and help clear out their mud sodden, ruined homes. The streets of the flood stricken areas resemble some kind of normalcy except for the remains and debris of people’s lives piled high on the footpaths waiting to become landfill. Power has been restored to most parts of Brisbane and the CBD has opened its doors to business again.
This is a cleanup of massive scale and so many things have happened over the past week I can’t even retain half of it in my head. I have retained it all in my heart, though and sometimes my heart aches so much I think it might break.
It aches with sorrow, and with pride. I am again standing in that moment of being proud to be Australian – I’m not sure I've lived in Brisbane long enough for me to say I’m a proud Queenslander but I am Australian. Australia is my home and of which Brisbane has been a huge part of my home for 17 years. So whatever it is, Queenslander, Sydney-sider – I’m proud.
The cleanup is going to take up to two years to get Brisbane back on its feet again and you know what? I want to stay here, I want to be a part of the community that rebuilds this city and one day when I’ve lived here long enough I might even earn the title of being a proud Queenslander!
Click here for some footage of the beginnings of the massive cleanup and here for stills.
If you are unable to physically assist with the clean up please donate Queensland needs our help. Midnight rambler hopeful about rebuilding and retaining the community spirit ♥
Which leads me to proscrastination. In particular procrastination around writing. Why do we procrastinate or more to the point why do I proscratinate? Is it because I suck at writing and will do anything to get away from it because I fear failure or success? Not entirely sure. Sometimes I procrastinate because I'm also a perfectionist (this is a constant work in progress) If you knew me a few years ago you will notice that I have lightened up a lot on that but still perfectionism taps me on the shoulder from time to time letting me know what I've written just isn't quite good enough.
Procrastination and perfectionism usually go hand in hand. Perfectionists and expectation can hound you if something is not quite finished: that half finished novel still sitting in your bottom drawer or that short story that needs the end fixing - it keeps us feeling not quite good enough and if only we worked harder it would be a better story. Aah, the eternal striving for perfectionism. 
