MAKE A BIG CALL
of f Ch Champagne. But, let’s not get into a slanging match with our beretwearing friends who are responsible for inflicting garlic snails and frog legs on the world, especially when we know our “champagne” is better.
So why are we rolling over and letting South Asian exporters tickle our bellies while they send their so-called “barramundi” to Australia? And while we are at it, can there be stricter rules applied to the sale of farmed barramundi? I haven’t noticed it as much in barra-savvy North Queensland, but in capital cities unlabelled farmed barramundi is routinely sold as a “wild” product. Good luck to commercial barra farmers with their endeavours, but let’s have a differentiation between the wild and farmed product in the marketplace. I suspect this is not so much the fault of the barra farmers, but more so that of retailers who know that given a choice, consumers will always head for the “wild” products. The comeuppance is that people not in a position to know any better are eating farmed barra thinking it is “wild”.
A LIFE WELL LIVED
JOSEPHINA Rosa Sheahan (nee Miguel) – better known as Josie – was farewelled in Ingham on Wednesday. The daughter of Spanish immigrants, she was raised on a cane farm at a time when farm life along the Herbert River was still very much in pioneering mode.
She was a staunch advocate for the role women played in the development of the sugar industry. In a book about her family, she wrote: “In the tributes to the early cane cutters of the industry, the work efforts and sacrifices of the women are often overlooked. Whether wielding a hoe or raising a family in conditions never before encountered, the women who supported their men in overcoming the hardships of a new country merit some attention. With courage and determination they battled the problems of language, climate, isolation, and often gruelling work, maintaining family stability throughout the Depression and uncertainties of war time”. Josie married Shaun Sheahan, son of Dan “Pop” Sheahan, the Irish immigrant settler who wrote the original version of the Pub with No Beer. It was Josie who turned Dan’s poems into the wonderful book, Songs of the Canefields. Josie and Shaun’s farmhouse at Long Pocket was always open to passers-by for lunch and a cup of tea.
If it was six o’clock somewhere in the world, Shaun and his clan would stand around the open tray of a 4WD ute in the yard, leaning against the sides, drinking beers and telling stories, until Josie called from the top step that it was time to get ready for dinner. Sadly, Shaun developed a brain tumour in 1994 and died on Christmas Eve that same year.
Josie lost the man she called the “pilot” of her. She kept herself busy for her remaining 2 26 years, working a and surrounded always by her loving family and her many friends. She was one of life’s beautiful people, a woman who gave much, but expected little in return. Josie moved into the Canossa Home for the Aged at Trebonne in December 2019. She drew her last breath in the Palliative Care Room at the Ingham Hospital on Thursday, November 5.
Her daughter Kerry and granddaughter Kelly said in Wednesday’s eulogy that Josie had asked Nurse Kelly on that Thursday to phone Canossa on her behalf and to thank everyone for looking after her and to tell them she would not be coming back. Kelly said when Doctor Carmel came in and asked about the next stage of her treatment, Josie told her: “It’s OK Doctor, I’m not afraid of dying. I’ve had a good life and am proud of what I’ve achieved. I love my family and they are settled. I’m tired and I’m ready to join Shaun and all the others.” Goodbye, Josie.