“Just as Eithiopia has responsibility to its own people and the global community to take the pain of reforming its feudal and destructive land systems, we and other nations have an urgent responsibility to dismantle pointless and hypocritical impediments to nuclear power and get on with the job of deploying it to lower our emissions, fast.”
I am lucky enough to be writing this post from the position of having acquired a new home for myself and my family. After having mail delivered to 9 addresses in 11 years, it is a great feeling to finally be under a roof that will house us, for all intents and purposes, for as long as we need. So I have been thinking a lot about the concept of home; what it means and how it creates and shapes some of our most important decisions and indeed the varying natures of the societies and cultures in which we live. When we have placed our planet, the only one we have, on a trajectory of climate wipe out, it pays to reflect on the concept of home.
Firstly, a question. What relationship does a total bastard called King John have with my simply stunning new back garden? Let’s just take a quick tour of the garden first so you can appreciate why I have started the journey here. The back garden of my new home is an uncommon slice of paradise. It has a nice patch of good old fashioned aussie lawn, but it is characterised by a wealth of flowers, creeping roses, a vegetable patch, 6 thriving fruit trees and an impressive chicken run. The north facing orientation and slight elevation of the house provide us with the most stunning private sunlit vista. The garden has a rambling, cottage appearance to it, and looks like it has always been there. This belies the fact that it is the labour of love of the previous owner, Margie, developed over just 9 years (except the gnarled fruit trees and roses, which are probably 50 years old, as is the house).
The point of King John is that had he been somewhat less of a bastard, Margie might never have bothered to plant the garden.