I have just been marveling on how old ladies can be so similar yet different. I volunteer at a book exchange which has occasionally brought me into the path of embittered old ladies (both volunteers and customers) who shake their heads and mutter at the state of Katherine Town: the litter, the graffiti, the antisocial behaviour. (More often than not, these comments develop a racial bent which prompts me to change the topic or flee)
Today I got chatting with an old aboriginal lady who hangs out under a tree near the book shop. As our conversation progressed, she shook her head and began to mutter about the state of Katherine Town: the litter, the graffiti, the antisocial behaviour. I thought to myself how in agreement all these ladies are. How dissatisfied with the youth of today, how disapproving. How in harmony their opinions.
Where is the big shady tree under which we can all sit to air and compare our grievances?
