The balloon rant

These first leisurely days of 2012 have seen a few leftovers from coastal New Year’s Eve celebrations washing up on the beach. While walking, I’ve collected balloons in various states: from printed “HNY!” remnants with tendrils like a jellyfish to the full (deflated) monty.

I’m suprised more coastal councils don’t follow the Sunshine Coast Regional Council’s awesome lead, to ban the release of helium balloons. Call me a killjoy, but I get angsty just seeing kids’ parties at picnic spots beside rivers and beaches, decorated with balloons all itching to break their moorings and head downstream.

Because escapee balloons join all that other lovely plasticky stuff that pollutes oceans and kills marine life.

 

Contrary to what some balloon manufacturers claim, a lot of these balloons are still pretty intact when they hit the water; they’re a decent enough size to put a fat pile of appetite suppressant inside a turtle’s gut. Because balloons act just like plastic bags, and help starve a turtle by filling their stomach with inedible badness.

I know they’re fun. Yep, kids love them. I’ve been known to blow a few up in my time, inside, at my kids’ parties. Not, however, near a waterway. So if you ever see a strange woman cutting down, and binning,  abandoned balloons at the picnic area of your local beachside picnic spot, I trust you’ll understand, and maybe even approve.

 

Onwards

A swim in the ocean, hours in an empty house glimmering ahead, kind and encouraging words in the response below… I am ready to work! So long, Internets. I shan’t pass this way again today.

Work in progress. Slow progress.

Writing a novel is surely making me a better reviewer. And a kinder one.

This process is hard. Without the time luxury to write in large chunks, I fit in hours or two when I can. Which has produced not quite 20,000 words in just under a year. Already I am sick of the thing: the plot, the places. Some of the characters. I can see from here the dead wood that will have to go later, the tangled vines I am writing just so they will get hauled down again.

Oh well.

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