Nothing beats a kitten for fun. But the feline "wonder years" can also be the most frustrating and dangerous time in your kitten's life. Do not let his sweet, innocent face fool you.
Behind those twinkling bright eyes is a mind brimful of curiosity, and the boundless energy to try and satisfy it. Kittens have a way of turning the most innocuous situation into a disaster. Whether you survive with your sanity intact and whether your kitten survives at all depend on you kitten-proofing your home.
Kitten-proofing is done to make the house safe so that your kitty does not hurt himself. It also prevents him from laying waste to your house. First, try to think like a cat. Invest in knee pads, get down on all fours, and tour your house at kitten level. But jumping and climbing kittens rarely stop at floor level, so you also need to kitten-proof the heights.
Kittens do not have hands. Instead, they use patting paws to explore their world and they stick their tiny noses into everything. Anything left within reach is fair game, so place anything breakable out of feline range. The more intelligent the kitten, the more ways he will find to get into trouble.
Protect your kitten from houseplants and vice versa. Chewing on houseplants like pothos and English ivy can cause toxic reactions. Kitty may even lick off the poison when he grooms his claws after shredding the plant. Keep plants out of your kitten's reach by hanging them or placing them on shelves. Choose nontoxic plants like the jade plant, the prayer plant,or the begonia.
Kittens do not tend to chew as much as puppies, but they do play-attack and bite nearly everything. Electric cords can be particularly tempting, and bitten cords can result in severe burns or even death. Get rid of as many electrical cords as possible, and check remaining wires regularly for signs of chewing. Tape cords to the floor to keep them from moving.
Keep garbage away from your kitten. Although cats are generally more fastidious than their canine counterparts, the smell of scraps may tempt them to scrounge. Your kitten might be poisoned by eating chocolate or he might end up with an upset stomach that results in a predictable mess.
Securely fasten lids on trash containers, or store them under the sink or in the garage where he cannot reach them. Never leaving sharp knives, food processor blades or other utensils out on counters where he might try to lick them clean and cut her tongue.
Like children, kittens have a tendency to swallow small nonfood items like coins, erasers and paper clips. Anything left out is fair game for the cat. Carefully cap all medications, and put them away. Pills are fun to bat around the floor, but if swallowed can be poisonous.
Christmas is a wonderful yet dangerous time of year for kittens. The tree seems meant for climbing, and the blinking lights and swinging ornaments tempt the most stoic kitty to indulge. But broken ornaments, extra electric cords, metal hooks or tinsel, sprayed lead-base "snow" and tree needles all pose dangers. Avoid placing decorations on the bottom branches, be sure the tree is securely anchored, avoid tinsel, and use ribbon to hang nonbreakable ornaments.
Carefully inspect cat toys and remove small eyes or tails that come loose and may be swallowed. Put away sewing baskets and tackle boxes. Kittens love to play with thread, string and yarn, but unsupervised games can lead to accidental strangulation, swallowed needles, cuts from fishing line or embedded fish hooks.
Cats can swallow several yards of ribbon or string, which will require surgical removal. Tie up curtain cords out of his reach, or purchase breakaway cords. The standard double cords on window blinds can hang and strangle a kitten. Always check cupboards and dresser drawers before shutting them to be sure your kitten is not hiding inside.
Keep appliances closed or he may think he has found the perfect warm hidy-hole to sleep in, until the appliance is turned on. It may sound funny at first, but kittens die every day by being accidentally shut inside a dishwasher, washing machine, clothes dryer or stove.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Making Refrigerator Magnets for Fun & Function
by Gary Piscopo
Refrigerator magnets are perhaps one of the most popular projects for people of all ages. With a wide variety of refrigerator magnets involving many difficulty levels, making magnets can range from very easy to quite difficult. We have chosen an easy version for this project that can be completed by children of most ages with a wide range of results. What is important for the success of this project is to select quality glass gems and interesting backings.
Materials Needed:
• Magazine or other source material
• Adhesive (we recommend using Weldbond)
• McGill Giant Punch Circle (1-1/4” diameter) - or you can use scissors to cut the circular backing
• Large Glass Gems (we used 1.5” clear molded for this project)
• Magnets (we used the high strength magnets for this project)
• Scissors
• Scrap paper and paper towels
Choosing Glass Gems
The glass gems you select should have very few, if any, bubbles. There are two types of glass gems available on the market: molded and free-form. The molded are created by pouring the molten glass into a round mold; whereas, the free-form glass gems are created by pouring molten glass onto a flat surface. We prefer the molded for this project because they are perfectly round and match the punch-out we'll be using. The free-form gems are good for making magnets that are painted on the back, or printed on the front.
Choosing the Backing
This is where your creativity pays off. We used an image from a magazine for our backing in this project. You can use old books, maps, patterned paper (including wrapping paper), newspaper, junk mail, cereal boxes or anything with an interesting image/pattern. This part of the project is loads of fun!
Step 1: Wash your glass gems using warm soapy water. Be sure to rinse thoroughly and allow them to dry. This will remove any residue and allow for the best adhesion of the glue to the glass.
Step 2: Using a scrap piece of paper, punch a hole with a 1.25” hole punch. By placing the hole over images in magazines, cereal boxes, newspapers, books or other sources, you can get a good idea of what the image will look like when used on your refrigerator magnets.
Step 3: After you have selected an image, use your scissors to trim the excess paper from the image so it fits more easily into your sample, punched hole. Don't cut it too small. You'll use the hole punch in the next step to finish the image to size. If you chose to use scissors for your cutout you may want to also use a circular object (a pill bottle or something of similar size) to outline your image first. Then you can trim around the outline with more accuracy.
Step 4: Align the image in your hole punch and make your cut. TIP: It is easier to align the image if you use the hole punch upside down so you can actually see the final cut. You should now have a nice round cutout of your image.
Step 5: Add a bit of glue to the back of the glass gem. Don’t worry about using a too much as you will remove the excess when applying the image.
Step 6: Spread the glue over the entire back of the glass gem. Apply the image face down.
Step 7: Using a clean paper towel, press the image firmly onto the glass. Use the paper towel to remove the excess glue. You want to remove as much glue as possible. The more you remove, the stronger the bond will be.
Step 8: Apply a small dab of glue to the center of the back of the glass gem.
Step 9: Press the magnet firmly into place over the glue. Remember to press firmly enough to remove the excess glue. Once the excess glue is removed, the magnet should not move freely, but should hold steady while pressing on the back.
Congratulations! You have created a neat little craft project that serves both functionality and décor. Time to go decorate your refrigerator!
Refrigerator magnets are perhaps one of the most popular projects for people of all ages. With a wide variety of refrigerator magnets involving many difficulty levels, making magnets can range from very easy to quite difficult. We have chosen an easy version for this project that can be completed by children of most ages with a wide range of results. What is important for the success of this project is to select quality glass gems and interesting backings.
Materials Needed:
• Magazine or other source material
• Adhesive (we recommend using Weldbond)
• McGill Giant Punch Circle (1-1/4” diameter) - or you can use scissors to cut the circular backing
• Large Glass Gems (we used 1.5” clear molded for this project)
• Magnets (we used the high strength magnets for this project)
• Scissors
• Scrap paper and paper towels
Choosing Glass Gems
The glass gems you select should have very few, if any, bubbles. There are two types of glass gems available on the market: molded and free-form. The molded are created by pouring the molten glass into a round mold; whereas, the free-form glass gems are created by pouring molten glass onto a flat surface. We prefer the molded for this project because they are perfectly round and match the punch-out we'll be using. The free-form gems are good for making magnets that are painted on the back, or printed on the front.
Choosing the Backing
This is where your creativity pays off. We used an image from a magazine for our backing in this project. You can use old books, maps, patterned paper (including wrapping paper), newspaper, junk mail, cereal boxes or anything with an interesting image/pattern. This part of the project is loads of fun!
Step 1: Wash your glass gems using warm soapy water. Be sure to rinse thoroughly and allow them to dry. This will remove any residue and allow for the best adhesion of the glue to the glass.
Step 2: Using a scrap piece of paper, punch a hole with a 1.25” hole punch. By placing the hole over images in magazines, cereal boxes, newspapers, books or other sources, you can get a good idea of what the image will look like when used on your refrigerator magnets.
Step 3: After you have selected an image, use your scissors to trim the excess paper from the image so it fits more easily into your sample, punched hole. Don't cut it too small. You'll use the hole punch in the next step to finish the image to size. If you chose to use scissors for your cutout you may want to also use a circular object (a pill bottle or something of similar size) to outline your image first. Then you can trim around the outline with more accuracy.
Step 4: Align the image in your hole punch and make your cut. TIP: It is easier to align the image if you use the hole punch upside down so you can actually see the final cut. You should now have a nice round cutout of your image.
Step 5: Add a bit of glue to the back of the glass gem. Don’t worry about using a too much as you will remove the excess when applying the image.
Step 6: Spread the glue over the entire back of the glass gem. Apply the image face down.
Step 7: Using a clean paper towel, press the image firmly onto the glass. Use the paper towel to remove the excess glue. You want to remove as much glue as possible. The more you remove, the stronger the bond will be.
Step 8: Apply a small dab of glue to the center of the back of the glass gem.
Step 9: Press the magnet firmly into place over the glue. Remember to press firmly enough to remove the excess glue. Once the excess glue is removed, the magnet should not move freely, but should hold steady while pressing on the back.
Congratulations! You have created a neat little craft project that serves both functionality and décor. Time to go decorate your refrigerator!
Bakers Delight and the Guru
The summer sun would have been streaming in the window of her luxurious Port Douglas home when former party girl Kate Ellis systematically tagged her personal possessions, and scribbled her upbeat suicide note.
"Please don't be sad," she wrote to her cousin, Leanne Stratford. "This is something I have willingly and intentionally done. I am not depressed or disturbed in any way." Ellis, 41, bright and bubbly and flush with funds, had planned it meticulously. In mid-January, she made out her will, providing, among other things, $30,000 a year for her eight-year-old Jack Russell, "Moti" and now, in February, she was explaining her decision to force down 150 pills. "I have a belief that you don't die, that you pass on to another stage of life," she wrote to Stratford shortly before collapsing onto her bed beside a patchwork of opened pharmaceutical boxes.
Fifteen hundred kilometres away, on the Gold Coast, her parents, Judy and Tom Ellis, were settling in for the night, unaware their daughter was about to take her life. They had not seen Kate for seven years, ever since the man who claimed to know all about reincarnation, Indian-born yoga teacher Vijayadev Yogendra, counselled, then courted her. Yogendra, an enigmatic figure who shaped hundreds of lives, winning the endorsement of high-flyers ranging from former Royal Commissioner Tony Fitzgerald to dual gold medallist Kieran Perkins, was, according to Tom Ellis, a Rasputin who brainwashed then wed his no-nonsense daughter.
Ellis - 33 years his junior - was Yogendra's second wife (he had three children with his first), but in an extraordinary odyssey, starting in Melbourne in 1964, the self-proclaimed mystic had wooed and won over countless young admirers. Some, like Roger Gillespie, of Australia's biggest bread chain, Baker's Delight, moved on to make major fortunes; others devoted 30 years of their lives, then found themselves not just bewildered, but broke. Many were back in Melbourne trying to digest a trauma they likened to "soul rape".
Handsome and hypnotic, Yogendra, who claimed to have worked for former Indian prime minister Jawaharlal Nehru, attracted the support of a former premier of Victoria, Lindsay Thompson, and former deputy premier of Queensland, Llew Edwards; federal ministers and MPs; Michael Myer, scion of the Myer family; I Can Jump Puddles author Allan Marshall; psychoanalyst Dr Frank Graham and a raft of the rich and famous. His life touched the highs and lows, intersecting with Ian Callinan, High Court judge, and Ian Johns, disgraced head of Tricontinental, the bank whose collapse helped bring down the Victorian Labor government in 1992.
James Vale says of his brush with Vijayadev Yogendra: "No regrets, just sorrow that he turned into a nasty person."
Photo:Cathryn Tremain
Yogi and yuppie, "Vijay", as he was known, taught free in prisons and founded innovative schools, as well as global empires from which he secretly garnered millions. But who was he? That is what Kate Ellis' parents wanted to know. Who was this 74-year-old who had taken their anything-but-gullible daughter and made her believe not just in him but, it seems, a final gesture that her Catholic upbringing condemned as a mortal sin?
Kate did not tell her cousin when she rang in early February - the night the pills were being emptied from their boxes - but the controversial guru had died a few days before. The man who implied he could cure cancer had succumbed to the disease around Australia Day, though he told his followers he had been poisoned by a spider.
It was news Kate kept to herself as she penned her suicide note. With a silver Mercedes in the drive, blocks of land at the nearby, exclusive Newell Beach and a reported $1 million in cash, she had money to burn. But, estranged from her family, her mind was not on a material future. "I've had the most wonderful and happy and precious time with Vijay," she wrote to Stratford. "You could not meet a more compassionate, kind and loving man. I could have had 50 years married to him and it may not have been so good. So please, don't be sad; I feel so blessed."
Blessed is not the word Tom Ellis would use. "He was a bastard," the ruddy-faced, 68-year-old retiree says. "I don't think I've met a worse person. He was totally ruthless, no scruples, egocentric, didn't care who he used." Judy, 63, nods. She did not like it when Kate sold the furnished terrace house and MG sports car she and Tom provided, fearing the money would go to Yogendra. But the bigger shock was in 2003 when she learnt of her daughter's secret wedding. It was so devastating she sent Kate her own wedding veil, along with the veil they shared at Kate's first communion in the hope the talismans might persuade her daughter to make contact.
But whatever the allure of the items, it could not match Yogendra's grip. The guru, as he had proved in 40 years in Australia, could make as well as break families. Judy Ellis poured out her heart, telling Kate she was her "much-loved only daughter", and what she was doing was breaking her "Irish mother's heart", but it could not climb over Yogendra's charisma. In common with others who acquire disciples rather than friends, he had the sort of self-regard that could, as Scott Fitzgerald said of his creation Jay Gatsby, convey eternal reassurance. Like Gatsby, the guru had a smile that "concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favour, understanding you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believ(ing) in you as you would like to believe in yourself".
I studied yoga with him when he was in Melbourne and found him compelling. Focused and at ease, he seemed to walk the Eastern wisdom he talked. He was astute and plausible, portraying himself as a humble man who just happened to have a direct line to the divine. Even with - or perhaps because of - unlikely claims, such as his "ability" to predict Melbourne Cup winners, it was a heady mix for altruistic baby boomers.
Michael Myer, grandson of store founder Sidney Myer, has not been involved with him for 20 years, but in the 1970s he was, and explained the appeal. "I had the name - I could have gone on just about any path in society," he said at the time. "But I didn't. I looked around to find there was no vision anywhere." He said Yogendra offered a vision "interested in creating people who could be examples of a better way of life".
Many others, including Roger and Lesley Gillespie, joint heads of Baker's Delight, a $450 million chain of 700 bread shops, felt the same. The business that has netted them a personal fortune of more than $100 million, according to the BRW list of Australia's 200 wealthiest people, began with a Yogendra-inspired bakery in Ashburton in 1974. At the time, they saw the guru as Christ-like, and wanted to back him. Like scores of others, they worked for little or no pay, embracing his mantra of sacrifice for spiritual growth. While the guru would later accept brown paper bags of cash from another "student", indulging himself with $100,000 cars, $10,000 clocks and membership of elite golf clubs, most followers went without. The Gillespies broke with Yogendra in the early '80s, believing he was "immoral and dishonest", but only after spending "a couple of hundred thousand" to bail out his version of utopia.
The Yogendra story beggars belief, and yet, belief is what defines it; that, and paradox. To unravel it, we need to go to Santa Cruz, the former bushland, now suburb, of Mumbai, India's commercial heart. It is here that the name Yogendra has a respected ring. Locals still talk of Shri Yogendra, Vijay's father, founder of the Yoga Institute. Yogendra senior, one of the handful of early 20th century yogis who simplified the practise and brought it to the West, operated without fanfare for little money, a tradition still carried on by his eldest son, Jayadev.
It was not, however, the path chosen by second son, Vijay, who had extravagant tastes and big ideas. After marrying Ivanhoe Grammar girl Jill Campbell in India in the early '60s, he set up yoga centres in Melbourne.
While the early yoga classes were authentic - many still testify to their beneficial effect - they were not enough. Yogendra could use yoga breathing to rid millionaire James Vale of asthma, but, instead of leaving it at that, he encouraged the property developer to donate money. Vale kicked in $800,000 - worth some $4 million now - to establish the Helen Vale Foundation, named after his late daughter. It was to be an educational vehicle to change the world, and while it changed lives, it was not - for many, including Vale - a change for the better.
Now 84 and "broke", Vale puzzles at what he sees as the guru-gone-wrong. "No regrets," he says, "just sorrow that he turned into a nasty person, a bastard". Vale donated the money in $200,000 lots between 1971 and '74. The foundation had its headquarters in Chapel St, St Kilda, in an ornate Victorian building opposite St Michael's Grammar. Through yoga classes at Melbourne universities, Yogendra gathered scores of idealistic young students, eager to absorb his special "knowledge". With an aristocratic Eastern pedigree, it was easy for him to claim the guru role and those attracted to his persuasive story-telling accepted the need to "sublimate their egos". Vale was happy to see his money going to a non-denominational, non-profit school that would provide an emotional and spiritual, as well as orthodox education.
And, it must be said, the school was impressive. With hot meals, few fees and one dedicated teacher for each five students, it set the standard, gathering the attention of Lindsay Thompson and other VIPs who marvelled at the way Yogendra - who also set up classes in Pentridge Prison - realised his vision.
It all seemed to be on track, and then, after a false start establishing a community in Gippsland, Yogendra moved to Warwick, near Toowoomba. Former follower Michael Sherlock, CEO of Brumby's bread chain, another multi-million dollar business the teacher inspired, recalls Yogendra saying he had a vision of Melbourne in flames while on a ride at the royal show. He headed for south-east Queensland, Sherlock says, because Colonel David Hackworth, the most decorated US soldier in Vietnam, thought it was most likely to survive a nuclear war. Hackworth, a model for renegade Colonel Kurtz, played by Marlon Brando in Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now, fled the US for Queensland about 1980.
Yogendra and 100 followers arrived around the same time, building a school and a collective of 30 homes on the perimeter of Warwick. Vale, after being feted, found himself on the outer. A major problem, he says, was that no one told him the body he funded had changed its name, dumping his daughter's memory for a catchy acronym, THE - Total Health and Education Foundation. "I wasn't welcome after I fell out with Vijay," Vale says. "No one wanted anything to do with me." He retired onto the pension and was rebuffed when he asked for financial help. "Vijay said: 'Go and make another million.' That was the end of my patience," Vale says.
Not everyone felt the same. Tony Fitzgerald, QC, the man who exposed corruption in Queensland, and has been investigating Victoria Police, met Yogendra around this time and found him "calm and charming with a sense of wisdom and desire to help people". Prominent Brisbane architect Graham Bligh agrees and says the attacks by "a handful of people with axes to grind" are obscene. "I was privileged to be an independent student of Vijay for over 20 years," he says. "He was one of a handful of people for whom I would stand on his entering a room, such was my respect." Melbourne businessman John Salomon, 71, started with Yogendra in 1965 and sees him as benevolent. "As a teacher he tried to direct you for your own spiritual development," he says.
That direction, however, was often arbitrary. There was no room to disagree. Anyone who did was told their ego was obliterating the guru's higher purpose. Such alibis mask a lack of transparency and accountability and the abuse that follows. Wendy Linton, a former teacher at the school, says Yogendra kept control by reinforcing low self-esteem. Rosemary Carroll, a member of one of Queensland's oldest legal families, agrees. "He had all these enthusiastic and positive people and while he did have a vision for a wonderful school, he squandered so much by constantly putting people down," she says. Such, of course, is the way of cults, and as Yogendra evolved a baronial lifestyle, some children at the school were heard to refer to themselves as "cult kids".
It started off subtly. The $512,000 spent on his home at the 800-hectare farm the group purchased in 1980 was to accommodate an office, he told followers. The land, which cost $250,000 25 years ago and is probably worth several times that now, contained smaller shared houses for the faithful, but they were moved about at the guru's whim. Yogendra, who arranged marriages and other intimate details for his followers, held couples' meetings where he preached fidelity. Covertly he was conducting affairs, several women claim. One, in his inner circle, says he initiated midnight trysts, saying it would free her from her "sexual demons".
While followers were encouraged to live simply, he drove the latest Range Rover, began wearing expensive cologne by Paco Rabanne, and flew first class, always in seat 1A. The farm had a 40 km/h speed limit for everyone except the guru. It was the same with colour TV, and other rules Yogendra imposed via the rotating lieutenants he used to divide and rule. Such indulgence was at odds with his teaching, and the plight of the school teachers, who were paid a pittance. Ray Whitely, a science graduate from Melbourne University, says he was properly reimbursed for just 12 of the 19 years he taught. He kept the accounts for the school and reckons he was under-paid more than $320,000. In 2003, after giving the school, he says, $19,000 he received following a car accident, he found himself facing a poverty-stricken retirement, and requested modest help, citing Yogendra's pledge to take care of his flock. School chairman Paul Currie reminded him that teachers had agreed to work for low wages. There were no funds, Currie wrote, adding: "The situation is of our collective making and we are all in the same boat."
Several years before, however, Yogendra had, through one of the companies he inspired, sold some $4 million worth of shares in natural medicine supplier Mediherb. Even after paying capital gains tax, he was left with a sizeable windfall. Unbeknown to his followers - who were told he was going to a remote location to meditate - he used the money to secretly set up in Port Douglas, where he became a regular at the Sheraton Mirage. The obsession with money, not present in the early days, arose, some say, only after the companies he set up to fund his vision came close to collapse in the 1980s, when the empire was in hock to Tricontinental merchant bank.
Friends in India were now calling him "the businessman" rather than "the yogi", and former followers claim he covertly got hundreds of thousands of dollars from medical fees charged by his medical acolytes at an after-hours Toowoomba surgery. "We were told the money was all going to the school," one of the disillusioned doctors explains. The GP, who asked not to be named, said Yogendra "trained" him to call hospitals and demand celebrity-style treatment when the guru needed medical attention. "He'd get me to say he was a professor of medicine, high-profile doctor," the GP says. Now back in Melbourne, he argues that the 30 or so diehard believers he left behind in Warwick are in denial. "They won't believe what he did."
Belief, more precisely self-belief, is what Kieran Perkins needed going into the 1996 Olympics, and he found it in Yogendra. In 60 visits over the 18 months leading up to Atlanta, the swimmer was given, he says, the tools necessary to win back-to-back 1500-metre finals. "He helped me win a second gold," Perkins says. "The biggest battle going into '96 was the mental one, self-belief, attitude. Before the final I went through highs and lows in how I felt about myself. I've no doubt his techniques and teaching gave me much-needed perspective."
Yogendra did not label the teaching, but the breathing and calming routines were unlike anything Perkins had experienced. "A lot of it was based on tradition," he says. "I hadn't encountered it before. It had a great effect on me. It helped me in the pool and in life. He was a very spiritual man and much of what he taught was an attitude. I don't practise the exercises now but what you might call his teaching - giving others a second chance, his work with wayward kids - goes on." Perkins says Yogendra asked him not to talk about the sessions. "He didn't want anything," he says. "He was doing it to help me. He opened my mind to find the goodness, redeem the spirit." The man Perkins knew - "he never asked me for a cent" - is at odds with the materialist encountered by David Winter, 50, a Monash economics graduate who says Yogendra badgered him for money. Winter, who ran some of the guru's businesses in the '80s, says the teacher always wanted more cash. "I gave millions to the foundation," he says. "The experience hurt me severely. It hurt my marriage, took away everything I worked for. I'm still deeply bitter and hurt. I lost 25 years of my life. I'm delighted that the school survived, but I'm appalled by what I've finally found out. It's been like a jigsaw puzzle that's taken years to fall into place."
Mark Everson, who now works in international trade, was one who refused to be underpaid. He did not mind working for minimum wages in the '80s helping to set up Mediherb, a business now worth an estimated $20 million, because, he says, Yogendra promised him 10 per cent equity. But when this was not forthcoming, he took the guru to court, and won a settlement. "You can boil it down to bad faith," Everson, 49, says. His barrister, Mark Martin, chuckles when he recalls the case, which had Ian Callinan, now a High Court judge, acting for Everson. "Yogendra went on with all this spiritual crap," Martin says. "They were outraged that we'd sued God."
Former Melbourne student Alex Gudkovs, chairman of the foundation, is Yogendra's key advocate. Kate Ellis left him the guru's emerald ring and Rolex watch, and he says the school and the guru's work will go on. "Those who could follow what he (Yogendra) said usually found results," he says. "The success he had was to impact positively on just about everyone who knew him." Gudkovs says he was "never troubled" by Yogendra using the titles of doctor and professor. Neither was school principal, Richard Waters, who says he never took seriously the claim about predicting Melbourne Cup winners. "He was the kindest person I ever met," he says. On the claims of Whitely and other disillusioned followers, Gudkovs says: "Nobody was exploited." There was, he says, "no misappropriation of funds by Vijay". The teacher "used money in a constructive, benevolent way".
Sitting in their Main Beach unit, Judy and Tom Ellis shake their heads, still distressed at being barred from Kate's funeral. Gudkovs says they were not included because Judy disowned her daughter, and Kate wanted nothing to do with her family. It is a claim Judy Ellis denies. She says she never stopped loving her daughter and wanting her to return, and still can't understand the sway Yogendra had over her. She is not alone. Many consulted for this story, most of whom did not want to be quoted, remain either pained or perplexed. Some are angry, at him, and at themselves. More than a few were loath to believe he had feet of clay.
It is a common response when dealing with self-proclaimed oracles. South African mystic Sir Laurens van der Post, Prince Charles' guru, left a similar legacy. Many who embraced his philosophy of simplicity still refuse to accept he made up stories and had affairs, partly because he was such a spell-binding orator, and partly because he created beauty, as well as dross. Melbourne psychiatrist Dr Alec Dempster, who knew Yogendra well, thinks the guru did the same and was torn between good and bad. "He taught 'know thyself', which means becoming psychologically autonomous, but he undermined many of his followers' ability to be autonomous," he says. "Because of his narcissism, he had very little guilt or concern at his actions and limited empathy for his loyal students." Referring to Yogendra's estrangement from so many who had believed in him, notably his three children, Dempster says: "By the end he was apparently deceiving himself as much as everyone else.
Bakers Delight Facts
"Please don't be sad," she wrote to her cousin, Leanne Stratford. "This is something I have willingly and intentionally done. I am not depressed or disturbed in any way." Ellis, 41, bright and bubbly and flush with funds, had planned it meticulously. In mid-January, she made out her will, providing, among other things, $30,000 a year for her eight-year-old Jack Russell, "Moti" and now, in February, she was explaining her decision to force down 150 pills. "I have a belief that you don't die, that you pass on to another stage of life," she wrote to Stratford shortly before collapsing onto her bed beside a patchwork of opened pharmaceutical boxes.
Fifteen hundred kilometres away, on the Gold Coast, her parents, Judy and Tom Ellis, were settling in for the night, unaware their daughter was about to take her life. They had not seen Kate for seven years, ever since the man who claimed to know all about reincarnation, Indian-born yoga teacher Vijayadev Yogendra, counselled, then courted her. Yogendra, an enigmatic figure who shaped hundreds of lives, winning the endorsement of high-flyers ranging from former Royal Commissioner Tony Fitzgerald to dual gold medallist Kieran Perkins, was, according to Tom Ellis, a Rasputin who brainwashed then wed his no-nonsense daughter.
Ellis - 33 years his junior - was Yogendra's second wife (he had three children with his first), but in an extraordinary odyssey, starting in Melbourne in 1964, the self-proclaimed mystic had wooed and won over countless young admirers. Some, like Roger Gillespie, of Australia's biggest bread chain, Baker's Delight, moved on to make major fortunes; others devoted 30 years of their lives, then found themselves not just bewildered, but broke. Many were back in Melbourne trying to digest a trauma they likened to "soul rape".
Handsome and hypnotic, Yogendra, who claimed to have worked for former Indian prime minister Jawaharlal Nehru, attracted the support of a former premier of Victoria, Lindsay Thompson, and former deputy premier of Queensland, Llew Edwards; federal ministers and MPs; Michael Myer, scion of the Myer family; I Can Jump Puddles author Allan Marshall; psychoanalyst Dr Frank Graham and a raft of the rich and famous. His life touched the highs and lows, intersecting with Ian Callinan, High Court judge, and Ian Johns, disgraced head of Tricontinental, the bank whose collapse helped bring down the Victorian Labor government in 1992.
James Vale says of his brush with Vijayadev Yogendra: "No regrets, just sorrow that he turned into a nasty person."
Photo:Cathryn Tremain
Yogi and yuppie, "Vijay", as he was known, taught free in prisons and founded innovative schools, as well as global empires from which he secretly garnered millions. But who was he? That is what Kate Ellis' parents wanted to know. Who was this 74-year-old who had taken their anything-but-gullible daughter and made her believe not just in him but, it seems, a final gesture that her Catholic upbringing condemned as a mortal sin?
Kate did not tell her cousin when she rang in early February - the night the pills were being emptied from their boxes - but the controversial guru had died a few days before. The man who implied he could cure cancer had succumbed to the disease around Australia Day, though he told his followers he had been poisoned by a spider.
It was news Kate kept to herself as she penned her suicide note. With a silver Mercedes in the drive, blocks of land at the nearby, exclusive Newell Beach and a reported $1 million in cash, she had money to burn. But, estranged from her family, her mind was not on a material future. "I've had the most wonderful and happy and precious time with Vijay," she wrote to Stratford. "You could not meet a more compassionate, kind and loving man. I could have had 50 years married to him and it may not have been so good. So please, don't be sad; I feel so blessed."
Blessed is not the word Tom Ellis would use. "He was a bastard," the ruddy-faced, 68-year-old retiree says. "I don't think I've met a worse person. He was totally ruthless, no scruples, egocentric, didn't care who he used." Judy, 63, nods. She did not like it when Kate sold the furnished terrace house and MG sports car she and Tom provided, fearing the money would go to Yogendra. But the bigger shock was in 2003 when she learnt of her daughter's secret wedding. It was so devastating she sent Kate her own wedding veil, along with the veil they shared at Kate's first communion in the hope the talismans might persuade her daughter to make contact.
But whatever the allure of the items, it could not match Yogendra's grip. The guru, as he had proved in 40 years in Australia, could make as well as break families. Judy Ellis poured out her heart, telling Kate she was her "much-loved only daughter", and what she was doing was breaking her "Irish mother's heart", but it could not climb over Yogendra's charisma. In common with others who acquire disciples rather than friends, he had the sort of self-regard that could, as Scott Fitzgerald said of his creation Jay Gatsby, convey eternal reassurance. Like Gatsby, the guru had a smile that "concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favour, understanding you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believ(ing) in you as you would like to believe in yourself".
I studied yoga with him when he was in Melbourne and found him compelling. Focused and at ease, he seemed to walk the Eastern wisdom he talked. He was astute and plausible, portraying himself as a humble man who just happened to have a direct line to the divine. Even with - or perhaps because of - unlikely claims, such as his "ability" to predict Melbourne Cup winners, it was a heady mix for altruistic baby boomers.
Michael Myer, grandson of store founder Sidney Myer, has not been involved with him for 20 years, but in the 1970s he was, and explained the appeal. "I had the name - I could have gone on just about any path in society," he said at the time. "But I didn't. I looked around to find there was no vision anywhere." He said Yogendra offered a vision "interested in creating people who could be examples of a better way of life".
Many others, including Roger and Lesley Gillespie, joint heads of Baker's Delight, a $450 million chain of 700 bread shops, felt the same. The business that has netted them a personal fortune of more than $100 million, according to the BRW list of Australia's 200 wealthiest people, began with a Yogendra-inspired bakery in Ashburton in 1974. At the time, they saw the guru as Christ-like, and wanted to back him. Like scores of others, they worked for little or no pay, embracing his mantra of sacrifice for spiritual growth. While the guru would later accept brown paper bags of cash from another "student", indulging himself with $100,000 cars, $10,000 clocks and membership of elite golf clubs, most followers went without. The Gillespies broke with Yogendra in the early '80s, believing he was "immoral and dishonest", but only after spending "a couple of hundred thousand" to bail out his version of utopia.
The Yogendra story beggars belief, and yet, belief is what defines it; that, and paradox. To unravel it, we need to go to Santa Cruz, the former bushland, now suburb, of Mumbai, India's commercial heart. It is here that the name Yogendra has a respected ring. Locals still talk of Shri Yogendra, Vijay's father, founder of the Yoga Institute. Yogendra senior, one of the handful of early 20th century yogis who simplified the practise and brought it to the West, operated without fanfare for little money, a tradition still carried on by his eldest son, Jayadev.
It was not, however, the path chosen by second son, Vijay, who had extravagant tastes and big ideas. After marrying Ivanhoe Grammar girl Jill Campbell in India in the early '60s, he set up yoga centres in Melbourne.
While the early yoga classes were authentic - many still testify to their beneficial effect - they were not enough. Yogendra could use yoga breathing to rid millionaire James Vale of asthma, but, instead of leaving it at that, he encouraged the property developer to donate money. Vale kicked in $800,000 - worth some $4 million now - to establish the Helen Vale Foundation, named after his late daughter. It was to be an educational vehicle to change the world, and while it changed lives, it was not - for many, including Vale - a change for the better.
Now 84 and "broke", Vale puzzles at what he sees as the guru-gone-wrong. "No regrets," he says, "just sorrow that he turned into a nasty person, a bastard". Vale donated the money in $200,000 lots between 1971 and '74. The foundation had its headquarters in Chapel St, St Kilda, in an ornate Victorian building opposite St Michael's Grammar. Through yoga classes at Melbourne universities, Yogendra gathered scores of idealistic young students, eager to absorb his special "knowledge". With an aristocratic Eastern pedigree, it was easy for him to claim the guru role and those attracted to his persuasive story-telling accepted the need to "sublimate their egos". Vale was happy to see his money going to a non-denominational, non-profit school that would provide an emotional and spiritual, as well as orthodox education.
And, it must be said, the school was impressive. With hot meals, few fees and one dedicated teacher for each five students, it set the standard, gathering the attention of Lindsay Thompson and other VIPs who marvelled at the way Yogendra - who also set up classes in Pentridge Prison - realised his vision.
It all seemed to be on track, and then, after a false start establishing a community in Gippsland, Yogendra moved to Warwick, near Toowoomba. Former follower Michael Sherlock, CEO of Brumby's bread chain, another multi-million dollar business the teacher inspired, recalls Yogendra saying he had a vision of Melbourne in flames while on a ride at the royal show. He headed for south-east Queensland, Sherlock says, because Colonel David Hackworth, the most decorated US soldier in Vietnam, thought it was most likely to survive a nuclear war. Hackworth, a model for renegade Colonel Kurtz, played by Marlon Brando in Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now, fled the US for Queensland about 1980.
Yogendra and 100 followers arrived around the same time, building a school and a collective of 30 homes on the perimeter of Warwick. Vale, after being feted, found himself on the outer. A major problem, he says, was that no one told him the body he funded had changed its name, dumping his daughter's memory for a catchy acronym, THE - Total Health and Education Foundation. "I wasn't welcome after I fell out with Vijay," Vale says. "No one wanted anything to do with me." He retired onto the pension and was rebuffed when he asked for financial help. "Vijay said: 'Go and make another million.' That was the end of my patience," Vale says.
Not everyone felt the same. Tony Fitzgerald, QC, the man who exposed corruption in Queensland, and has been investigating Victoria Police, met Yogendra around this time and found him "calm and charming with a sense of wisdom and desire to help people". Prominent Brisbane architect Graham Bligh agrees and says the attacks by "a handful of people with axes to grind" are obscene. "I was privileged to be an independent student of Vijay for over 20 years," he says. "He was one of a handful of people for whom I would stand on his entering a room, such was my respect." Melbourne businessman John Salomon, 71, started with Yogendra in 1965 and sees him as benevolent. "As a teacher he tried to direct you for your own spiritual development," he says.
That direction, however, was often arbitrary. There was no room to disagree. Anyone who did was told their ego was obliterating the guru's higher purpose. Such alibis mask a lack of transparency and accountability and the abuse that follows. Wendy Linton, a former teacher at the school, says Yogendra kept control by reinforcing low self-esteem. Rosemary Carroll, a member of one of Queensland's oldest legal families, agrees. "He had all these enthusiastic and positive people and while he did have a vision for a wonderful school, he squandered so much by constantly putting people down," she says. Such, of course, is the way of cults, and as Yogendra evolved a baronial lifestyle, some children at the school were heard to refer to themselves as "cult kids".
It started off subtly. The $512,000 spent on his home at the 800-hectare farm the group purchased in 1980 was to accommodate an office, he told followers. The land, which cost $250,000 25 years ago and is probably worth several times that now, contained smaller shared houses for the faithful, but they were moved about at the guru's whim. Yogendra, who arranged marriages and other intimate details for his followers, held couples' meetings where he preached fidelity. Covertly he was conducting affairs, several women claim. One, in his inner circle, says he initiated midnight trysts, saying it would free her from her "sexual demons".
While followers were encouraged to live simply, he drove the latest Range Rover, began wearing expensive cologne by Paco Rabanne, and flew first class, always in seat 1A. The farm had a 40 km/h speed limit for everyone except the guru. It was the same with colour TV, and other rules Yogendra imposed via the rotating lieutenants he used to divide and rule. Such indulgence was at odds with his teaching, and the plight of the school teachers, who were paid a pittance. Ray Whitely, a science graduate from Melbourne University, says he was properly reimbursed for just 12 of the 19 years he taught. He kept the accounts for the school and reckons he was under-paid more than $320,000. In 2003, after giving the school, he says, $19,000 he received following a car accident, he found himself facing a poverty-stricken retirement, and requested modest help, citing Yogendra's pledge to take care of his flock. School chairman Paul Currie reminded him that teachers had agreed to work for low wages. There were no funds, Currie wrote, adding: "The situation is of our collective making and we are all in the same boat."
Several years before, however, Yogendra had, through one of the companies he inspired, sold some $4 million worth of shares in natural medicine supplier Mediherb. Even after paying capital gains tax, he was left with a sizeable windfall. Unbeknown to his followers - who were told he was going to a remote location to meditate - he used the money to secretly set up in Port Douglas, where he became a regular at the Sheraton Mirage. The obsession with money, not present in the early days, arose, some say, only after the companies he set up to fund his vision came close to collapse in the 1980s, when the empire was in hock to Tricontinental merchant bank.
Friends in India were now calling him "the businessman" rather than "the yogi", and former followers claim he covertly got hundreds of thousands of dollars from medical fees charged by his medical acolytes at an after-hours Toowoomba surgery. "We were told the money was all going to the school," one of the disillusioned doctors explains. The GP, who asked not to be named, said Yogendra "trained" him to call hospitals and demand celebrity-style treatment when the guru needed medical attention. "He'd get me to say he was a professor of medicine, high-profile doctor," the GP says. Now back in Melbourne, he argues that the 30 or so diehard believers he left behind in Warwick are in denial. "They won't believe what he did."
Belief, more precisely self-belief, is what Kieran Perkins needed going into the 1996 Olympics, and he found it in Yogendra. In 60 visits over the 18 months leading up to Atlanta, the swimmer was given, he says, the tools necessary to win back-to-back 1500-metre finals. "He helped me win a second gold," Perkins says. "The biggest battle going into '96 was the mental one, self-belief, attitude. Before the final I went through highs and lows in how I felt about myself. I've no doubt his techniques and teaching gave me much-needed perspective."
Yogendra did not label the teaching, but the breathing and calming routines were unlike anything Perkins had experienced. "A lot of it was based on tradition," he says. "I hadn't encountered it before. It had a great effect on me. It helped me in the pool and in life. He was a very spiritual man and much of what he taught was an attitude. I don't practise the exercises now but what you might call his teaching - giving others a second chance, his work with wayward kids - goes on." Perkins says Yogendra asked him not to talk about the sessions. "He didn't want anything," he says. "He was doing it to help me. He opened my mind to find the goodness, redeem the spirit." The man Perkins knew - "he never asked me for a cent" - is at odds with the materialist encountered by David Winter, 50, a Monash economics graduate who says Yogendra badgered him for money. Winter, who ran some of the guru's businesses in the '80s, says the teacher always wanted more cash. "I gave millions to the foundation," he says. "The experience hurt me severely. It hurt my marriage, took away everything I worked for. I'm still deeply bitter and hurt. I lost 25 years of my life. I'm delighted that the school survived, but I'm appalled by what I've finally found out. It's been like a jigsaw puzzle that's taken years to fall into place."
Mark Everson, who now works in international trade, was one who refused to be underpaid. He did not mind working for minimum wages in the '80s helping to set up Mediherb, a business now worth an estimated $20 million, because, he says, Yogendra promised him 10 per cent equity. But when this was not forthcoming, he took the guru to court, and won a settlement. "You can boil it down to bad faith," Everson, 49, says. His barrister, Mark Martin, chuckles when he recalls the case, which had Ian Callinan, now a High Court judge, acting for Everson. "Yogendra went on with all this spiritual crap," Martin says. "They were outraged that we'd sued God."
Former Melbourne student Alex Gudkovs, chairman of the foundation, is Yogendra's key advocate. Kate Ellis left him the guru's emerald ring and Rolex watch, and he says the school and the guru's work will go on. "Those who could follow what he (Yogendra) said usually found results," he says. "The success he had was to impact positively on just about everyone who knew him." Gudkovs says he was "never troubled" by Yogendra using the titles of doctor and professor. Neither was school principal, Richard Waters, who says he never took seriously the claim about predicting Melbourne Cup winners. "He was the kindest person I ever met," he says. On the claims of Whitely and other disillusioned followers, Gudkovs says: "Nobody was exploited." There was, he says, "no misappropriation of funds by Vijay". The teacher "used money in a constructive, benevolent way".
Sitting in their Main Beach unit, Judy and Tom Ellis shake their heads, still distressed at being barred from Kate's funeral. Gudkovs says they were not included because Judy disowned her daughter, and Kate wanted nothing to do with her family. It is a claim Judy Ellis denies. She says she never stopped loving her daughter and wanting her to return, and still can't understand the sway Yogendra had over her. She is not alone. Many consulted for this story, most of whom did not want to be quoted, remain either pained or perplexed. Some are angry, at him, and at themselves. More than a few were loath to believe he had feet of clay.
It is a common response when dealing with self-proclaimed oracles. South African mystic Sir Laurens van der Post, Prince Charles' guru, left a similar legacy. Many who embraced his philosophy of simplicity still refuse to accept he made up stories and had affairs, partly because he was such a spell-binding orator, and partly because he created beauty, as well as dross. Melbourne psychiatrist Dr Alec Dempster, who knew Yogendra well, thinks the guru did the same and was torn between good and bad. "He taught 'know thyself', which means becoming psychologically autonomous, but he undermined many of his followers' ability to be autonomous," he says. "Because of his narcissism, he had very little guilt or concern at his actions and limited empathy for his loyal students." Referring to Yogendra's estrangement from so many who had believed in him, notably his three children, Dempster says: "By the end he was apparently deceiving himself as much as everyone else.
Bakers Delight Facts
Mary Frances Handbags - Find One On Sale
What impression do you give by owning a Mary Frances handbag? Why, good taste and style! Anyone who carries this signature brand must be serious about looking good!
Quality and Style in Each Mary Frances Handbag
Mary Frances handbags are indeed tasteful, and have been referred to as unique and bold in style. In fact, their styles are ever-changing, so the collection of handbags bearing the Mary Frances label might also be described as eclectic. All of these handbags, however, are inspired by the personality of Mary Frances. Closer inspection of each Mary Frances handbag reveals that they are made with attention to detail and with quality in mind. Tha is not surprising, considering that Mary Frances handbags are individually handcrafted by skilled artisans.
Many well-known personalities own Mary Frances handbags. Pop icons Jessica Simpson, Britney Spears, Shania Twain and Sheryl Crow, and actress Kate Hudson are all proud owners of Mary Frances handbags. Besides being powerful role models for other young women, what all these celebrities have in common is impeccable taste.
Diverse Array of Accessories
Mary Frances handbags have come to mean more than just your standard purse. The brand has extended its range of products to include pillows, mini bags, card holders, pill boxes, compacts, shoulder bags and tote bags, among others. In fact, one way of making a fashion statement these days is by carrying an item from Mary Frances' line of cell phone purses, which look like miniaturized handbags. These purses works to keep your cellphone as well as decorate it.
Lovers of Mary Frances handbags should enjoy owning these other fashion accessories as well. If you're a Mary Frances fan that has not yet come to own any one of the signature's handbags, you might want to consider getting an item or two from the Mary Frances diverse line of accessories. You will be happy you did.
Quality and Style in Each Mary Frances Handbag
Mary Frances handbags are indeed tasteful, and have been referred to as unique and bold in style. In fact, their styles are ever-changing, so the collection of handbags bearing the Mary Frances label might also be described as eclectic. All of these handbags, however, are inspired by the personality of Mary Frances. Closer inspection of each Mary Frances handbag reveals that they are made with attention to detail and with quality in mind. Tha is not surprising, considering that Mary Frances handbags are individually handcrafted by skilled artisans.
Many well-known personalities own Mary Frances handbags. Pop icons Jessica Simpson, Britney Spears, Shania Twain and Sheryl Crow, and actress Kate Hudson are all proud owners of Mary Frances handbags. Besides being powerful role models for other young women, what all these celebrities have in common is impeccable taste.
Diverse Array of Accessories
Mary Frances handbags have come to mean more than just your standard purse. The brand has extended its range of products to include pillows, mini bags, card holders, pill boxes, compacts, shoulder bags and tote bags, among others. In fact, one way of making a fashion statement these days is by carrying an item from Mary Frances' line of cell phone purses, which look like miniaturized handbags. These purses works to keep your cellphone as well as decorate it.
Lovers of Mary Frances handbags should enjoy owning these other fashion accessories as well. If you're a Mary Frances fan that has not yet come to own any one of the signature's handbags, you might want to consider getting an item or two from the Mary Frances diverse line of accessories. You will be happy you did.
More to Tin Than Soda Cans
Many of us are very familiar with the tin can. That is where we get our sodas. Mention tin can manufacturer and we would most likely picture a huge factory with many machines involved in making soda cans. Apart from soda cans, these tin can manufacturers also manufacture other tin objects.
Tin manufacturers may also produce tin boxes. These boxes can range from simple cookie boxes to big tin storage chests. Somewhere in between are tin lunchboxes that would carry designs loved by children. Tin boxes are also made in a smaller scale. Skilled craftsman can design and create tin boxes that carry very delicate designs. These boxes last a long time and could even pass down from one generation to another as a family heirloom.
One type of small tin box that is handcrafted is a pill box. A pill box is meant to carry your daily dosage of medicine in style. Instead of pulling out a plastic case with the days marked over small compartments, you could pull out an elegantly decorated tin pill box and take your medication in style.
The piggy bank also comes in tin form. Buying a tin piggy bank that actually resembles a pig could cost a fortune due to the rounded shapes and rarity. Tin piggy banks are normally cubed in shape with a slot at one end. There would be a locking mechanism as well to keep your money safe inside. The interesting thing about tin piggy banks is that it is quite easy to have your name engraved on one to personalize it.
Drink coasters can also be made out of tin. Simple plain designs could be suitable for everyday use coasters while crafting or stamping intricate designs would go well for decoration coasters. Tin coasters with elegant designs on them would make great gifts. You could also stamp your fraternity or sorority symbol on some tin coasters and use them as gifts for alumni.
The next time someone mentions tin can manufacturer, you would already know what exactly the manufacturers are making.
Tin manufacturers may also produce tin boxes. These boxes can range from simple cookie boxes to big tin storage chests. Somewhere in between are tin lunchboxes that would carry designs loved by children. Tin boxes are also made in a smaller scale. Skilled craftsman can design and create tin boxes that carry very delicate designs. These boxes last a long time and could even pass down from one generation to another as a family heirloom.
One type of small tin box that is handcrafted is a pill box. A pill box is meant to carry your daily dosage of medicine in style. Instead of pulling out a plastic case with the days marked over small compartments, you could pull out an elegantly decorated tin pill box and take your medication in style.
The piggy bank also comes in tin form. Buying a tin piggy bank that actually resembles a pig could cost a fortune due to the rounded shapes and rarity. Tin piggy banks are normally cubed in shape with a slot at one end. There would be a locking mechanism as well to keep your money safe inside. The interesting thing about tin piggy banks is that it is quite easy to have your name engraved on one to personalize it.
Drink coasters can also be made out of tin. Simple plain designs could be suitable for everyday use coasters while crafting or stamping intricate designs would go well for decoration coasters. Tin coasters with elegant designs on them would make great gifts. You could also stamp your fraternity or sorority symbol on some tin coasters and use them as gifts for alumni.
The next time someone mentions tin can manufacturer, you would already know what exactly the manufacturers are making.
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