July 22nd, 2024Just sayin’…

By Donna Kelly

I have two quite interesting stories this edition. Well, maybe more, but we’ll see where these end up. First one came to mind after reading Eve’s latest Bushwalks of the Central Highlands.

I hope you are enjoying the reads, I certainly am. I can imagine people tearing them out and making a little folder about where to head when the weather improves. Although that doesn’t seem to slow down Eve and her faithful companion Paddy H.

Anyway, I read this one and enjoyed that she liked the lovelocks on the bridge at Lake Daylesford. You read a lot about fake news these days but that was something we dreamed up when we started The Local.

I had been reading about bridges around Europe being weighed down by so many lovelocks they were going to have to start cutting them off. And I thought, what if Daylesford had a lovelock bridge?

So we asked a couple we know and they posed with the sun behind them as they sealed their love with a lock.

And we added a few more, one for us, one each for Rosie and Curly, maybe one for my mum and dad. And slowly, but surely, the locks grew in number and they became “a thing”.

I even thought about setting up a little lock stall on weekends but then I remembered I don’t like the general public so that put paid to that.

A few years later some knob cut the wires and slid many of the locks into the lake, but the council repaired the wires and back the locks came. All nice and new.

We put a few more back on as well. Seeing we started it and all. So that was fun to read – like when someone quotes something back to a journo they have read “somewhere” and it was written by that journo. Little thrills and all that – just to get you through.

The other interesting story, well funny in a way, also came from Eve. She sent through a story about plantings at Creswick Creek in Clunes. And it got me thinking. I was either working for The Courier at Ballarat or The Advocate at Daylesford and was called to the Clunes Bowling Club one morning to photograph an act of vandalism.

Over I went and arrived at the club to hear the sad tale. Someone, after the club had cleared quite a few saplings from the creek, had got their knickers in a twist and poured sump oil on the carefully tended green.

Club members had tried to help out by dumping white kitty litter on the oil in an attempt to soak it all up. Good idea, sort of.

Inside I talked to a very clearly upset president, an older gentleman who said he couldn’t believe it when he arrived at the club and saw the metre long letters spelling out the word CLUNES.

“Donna, who would do such a thing?” he asked. I looked around the room, wondering who would help me out. Everyone just looked down at the floor and I realised it was up to me, as a journalist and with my code of ethics, to tell the truth.

“Hmmm,” I said. “It doesn’t say Clunes.” The president looked at me blankly and asked “well then, what does it say?” Again, no help. “Hmmm. It does start with a C and ends with an S but it’s not Clunes.”

I don’t think we ran the photo. Just sayin’…