Stan Dover The Pigeon Fancier.Yesterday, while working, I had occasion to speak with a lady about work-related stuff, as you would expect.
The conversation didn't remain there, however, as we got onto the subject of when I am available to meet with clients and prospective clients.
I responded that I wouldn't be able to meet tomorrow (today, Autralia Day), but I could in the evening, or on Saturday.
The lady looked astonished and asked me how was it that I would work on Australia Day. I replied that it wasn't a problem - if that's the time that suits the client and my diary is clear for it, then I'll work in with them.
So she asked when don't I work, and I told her that I don't work Christmas Day, over Easter, or on sunday mornings, because we go to church.
That is not negotiable as far as I'm concerned.
She was very pleased that I was so definite about it, and the conversation led to more general topics.
(Slow work day, can you tell?)
Because I deal with a bit of building stuff in my job, we moved onto how a former neighbour of hers had given her some grief. He'd put up pigeon coops along the fence adjoining her yard when he didn't have a permit for them. Not for just a few pigeons, but a few dozen.
She complained to the council, the council spoke to the neighbour, and nothing changed.
Well, not quite.
The neighbour wanted to change a few things and build a bit more, so this time he applied for a permit, and while it was still going through the approval process, she objected to it.
It got a bit nasty, and one time he invited her over to his place to talk about it all, and try and resolve her objections. So she went over to see him, and found herself in the front living room of his house surrounded by five blokes.
This lady is a grandmother in her sixties. She's of medium height, soft-spoken, and not inclined to give in.
In the end, the neighbour moved a few streets away to a new house that he's built that looks like the Taj Mahal, as she put it.
The suburb we are talking about has a reasonable proportion of retirees, so when he was building this new place he got no objections to his applications.
I guess you wouldn't if you are a bit of a standover merchant and your new neighbours are little old war widows.
While she was relating this to me, I asked what nationality her erstwhile neighbour was.
She volunteered that he is muslim, which led the conversation into further politically incorrect territory, complete with a discussion of sura and verse 4.34 (my personal favourite), and the doctrine of taqiyya.
She was a bit iffy about Sheikh Hilaly until I pointed out that each time he opens his mouth and gets attention, more and more "anglos" get interested in finding out a bit more about islam, and muslims, and wake up to the way our society is bending over backwards to accommodate them.
She also loved the idea of Deport Hilaly tshirts.
All in all, it was a very interesting and fruitful discussion on both sides.
She left with one of my cards and a bit of paper directing her to JihadWatch, and I left feeling happy knowing that more and more skips are clueing in on the problems in our backyard.
She particularly like the idea that my copy of the quran when it's not used as reference is used as a drinks coaster.