The short daylight hours of winter are bookended by some beautiful dawns and sunsets. Alas, the drive to and from work often robs me of these glorious golden hours at the end of the day. Today I just had to stop to take a photo of the paddocks aglow with a delicate fretwork of grasses swaying. Moments like this are fleeting—the sun quickly drops behind the mountains and it’s gone.
Mornings are also a rush with lots of pats and a quick chat to see everyone is well. Doggies: food, rugs off, pat. Check. Cat lords: food, clean poo box, fresh hot water bottle. Check. Peepers: breakfast prepped, fresh water, a scatter of scratch mix and ‘Thanks for the eggies, girls!’ check. Ponies: hay in bowls, rugs off, a rub on the face and a tickle behind the ears. Check.
The sun sets on another era
Soon the time-suck commute will be a thing of the past. For I am the face of corporate “agility”. I am the face of a changing job market, driven by market forces. I am the face of the Business Council wailing that workers have too many rights. I am the face of a society that privileges the “Company” above that of which it is composed: the people, the workers, the FTEs. I am redundant. My job has been outsourced to a company that wants to pay me what I earned when I started working more than 20 years ago and to hire me on a casual basis with no job security. My role exists. It will still be performed. The expectation that my wage and conditions should be protected and should reflect my experience and skills and loyalty to the company over the years is no longer reasonable. I am not redundant. The ethical workplace is redundant.
The Peeper Project 
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