Beans and sunflowers

Beans and sunflowers

Here I sit on New Years Eve day in the hot wind of two fans searching for words to describe the past week. Jacinta is lying next to me passed out after a long picnic day at the beach filled with food, friends, swimming, and music. The heat is very dry today, although we didn’t feel it in the cool breeze along the water while picnicking. I sure felt it this morning while cooking up the Kenyan dish and banana fritters for my veggie friend who joined us for the picnic. I think I have changed positions about 5 times since the beginning of this letter, searching for a way to keep cool.

My garden guru Jackie French in her prescribed garden calendar said that it is in December that you realize that you overplanted: Christmas comes, you don’t have time to work in the garden and you let everything grow wild and out of control. Given that I spent 2 hours working in the night by headlamp on Wednesday night, staking tomatoes, weeding and propping up the sunflowers and zucchini that Jacinta accidentally crushed because they had grown over the walking path, I think she may be right. It was actually quite nice and cool, no sunblock needed, the sound of the cicadas and frogs singing, and it had rained all day. The ground was moist and easy to work with, and it smelled beautiful. I discovered that the broccoli plants took a major beating from the grasshoppers and that my tomato plants are about to fruit. I had time to contemplate the fact that all of my beautiful basil will soon need to be made into pesto, and that I will need to find an alternative to pine nuts as an essential ingredient due to their high price. The corn, the CORN!!!! It is taller than any man around, and has ears on it that look like we could be eating them in a week or two. Jacinta is an expert bean picker in her teepee, and enjoys munching on them raw. They are so sweet right off the vine, especially the purple ones. We’ve now eaten two meals of fresh beans, some arugula, a few zucchini, some herbs, 2 strawberries, and a bunch of cherry tomatoes. Jacinta will point to the cherry tomato vines while standing on the veranda and insist that we go to the garden and eat the only red tomatoes on the vine. I am amazed that she can see them from afar. Just yesterday a sunflower in each garden bloomed, they are just magnificent. There is so much lead up in growing sunflowers, with such an immense stalk and then the huge green bud, and then one day, the yellow springs forth and it’s just awesome.

The chickens are doing well. With all nine chickens that could be laying now, we get about 4 eggs a day, this is perfect. For a few weeks, they went “off the lay,” and gave us about 1 a day, not really enough for good egg consumption. I actually bought one dozen from my friend Melina. There is then one rooster, “Little Mister,” and Major, who is the mummy right now. Her 4 chicks are thriving, getting bigger and more confident every day. Major is growing tired of her little home that I constructed, so Keith (I’m helping a little bit) is constructing a new larger home for them, a pen big enough for Jacinta to go in and play with her little friends.

We’ve spent a lot of time swimming in the spa and in the beach this week. The week began out in Soldier’s Point where Matt’s dad resides. This is about a four hour drive south towards Sydney. He lives in a holiday town overlooking a gorgeous bay. It’s wonderfully breezy out on the veranda where we spent a lot of time with Pete, Carolyn and Matt’s sister Allison. I was able to talk to my family both at my mom’s for Christmas Eve and at my dad’s on Christmas Day, and quite proud of my timing. I caught them after dinner when all were present and not too tired to talk. It was a good substitute to be able to chat on the phone for about an hour, pretending that I was there with them. I also spent a lot of time knitting my soon to be nephew’s baby blanket, which was a good way to commune far away with my sister who I dearly miss. Jess was given an inflatable tube as a present and it was a hit! Out in the bay, she swam around, newly empowered by this bright orange ring, kicking and smiling, spinning and giggling. She chased her beach ball from one end of the beach to the other, and then back again. She even got to take a quick ride in the kayak with Matt. Since we’ve been back, Jess has spent a lot of time in her floatie ring in the spa. It has been so hot that we usually get in every two hours to cool off. Then again when Matt gets home, Jess gets another round swimming. He just taught her to spin around in circles, it’s funny to watch. Another trick she can do is to show you her toes and lean back, pretending to lounge in the water like mom and dad.

Matt worked 3 short days this week, the bank is slow after Christmas. Monday was Boxing Day, and Tuesday was a public holiday. I suppose everyone has spent all of their money. But then New Year’s comes around, and the town was busy today, especially the liquor store. I think having this holiday in the summer, at the beginning of school vacation and especially on a Saturday night makes people drink a lot more here. Perhaps it’s a dumb theory, but boy, the drive-in liquor shop today caused a few traffic jams in our little town. Tonight we’ll go out to the beach and watch fireworks, and feel the breeze. I recall a few years ago doing this and just star gazing and marveling at the way the waves glowed in the dark.

Jacinta, well, what hasn’t she said this week? She brought me a rock on the beach and said rock. I never taught her that. She can name seaweed, seashells, and beans. She has finally learned that what she drinks most often is called water, and not juice (this is what she called every liquid). Juice is now what you and I call oranges, we squeeze them for juice, it’s understandable. For the first time in my life I said “shit!” (hee hee) and Jacinta repeated me, so now we have started watching our mouths carefully. Every time she tries to say “sit, stick, shirt, shut,” or perhaps “shit,” its sounds like that naughty cuss word. She says ball, zebra, bread, car, “tar,” (guitar), and most ingredients that go in bread. She loves to eat dough, this week she got to try tortilla dough, yummy. Oh! “Zcchini” is the newest addition, because I made zucchini bread and she enjoyed it. I guess this is the time when her vocabulary will expand at a rapid pace. It’s so interesting to hear which words come out of her mouth and understand why. She calls SUVs “choo choos,” and of course, I don’t correct her but laugh.

Life is good and hot. We received many wonderful Christmas cards, wishes, pictures and presents from you all in the States, so we feel the warmth and love coming from across the ocean. Thank you, really. And here we have friends visiting for the weekend and are enjoying the familiar company and the excuse to relax. “They” are pregnant and this makes it even more fun. Pregnant women are just magnetic, they emit life, love and beauty, so this has been fun to be around. We eat well, laugh loud and are even making some music. No complaints here, just a bit of sweat dripping down. I suppose I’m getting used to this sensation. But boy, snow sounds sooooo beautiful and refreshing right now. No time to dream, I’ve gotta get ready for another round at the beach (:

A lovely sweaty Christmas

A lovely, sweaty Christmas

It is Christmas Eve here, and now 11pm and still stinking hot. Although my legs are sticking to the chair and I am thousands of miles from all of you,  I am still in a good space. I had a hard time getting into the holiday spirit, not being able to send all of my friends and family the tacky homemade gifts that you usually receive. First off, customs doesn’t allow homemade goods like herbal teas and dried fruits and nuts to be sent overseas, and secondly, postage is just out of this world.  The heat of the summer is so much that baking just is not an option. Christmas to a mid-western American girl means cold and/or snow, hot drinks like egg nog, big baked dinners, cozy chats by the fire, going to church on Christmas Eve, maybe singing Christmas carols while mom plays the piano and staying inside. Here, Christmas is camping, parties, going to the beach, drinking, barbeques, summer vacation begins for children, Santa Claus (I think every mum from playgroup had their kids picture taken with Santa), and presents. Two very different holidays. Last weekend we drove 6 hours South to Sydney for a Christmas party with our good friends the Websters (2 Aussie American couples and their cool parents). Jacinta played and ate fruit to her hearts content and then fell asleep under the Christmas tree on a bean bag chair.  

So I’ve tried to meld my view of Christmas into this strange new world, and I baked Gingerbread men even though it was hot! I sewed a few little bags for kids’ presents and wrapped everybody’s presents in cloth, to be reused next year. We received so many kind Christmas cards from friends and family from the US so this helped to bring on the Christmas spirit. We camped out last night with our friends and had a blast hanging out, laughing, chasing crabs on the beach at night, looking at the big starry sky, playing music for hours with our newly arrived instruments, hiking out onto the headlands, and swimming in the ocean. Jacinta loved being outside for so long, falling asleep to the sounds of Justin and her daddy’s guitars, drums and our singing. This was a great way to lead into a hot Christmas weekend.

Today was spent seeking solace from the heat. Rather than cooking all day, we tried out the spa, but no luck, it too, like the air was like a hot bath. We tried sitting on the veranda with the air cooler blowing on us, but the lack of breeze there was no good. Eventually we laid out a blanket closer to the dam (pond), Matt set up a few hammocks, Jess played with toys, read books, climbed in and out of the hammock with Matt while I chopped veggies and we all just sat there, drinking cold coffee and tea, decapacitated by the heat. A black cockatoo perched on the fig tree for a while, that was awesome. Eventually I cooked up a great West African sweet potato and peanut dish, and Mary made a few salads and we had a nice feast. The only glitch in the day was jumping ants, this is another new creature encounter. It is astonishing that this smallish ant can create almost as much pain as birth, on my left foot, and 10 minutes later on my right. Keith showed me that wet tobacco leaves help ease the pain, but wow. We finished off the night with some presents, cake, and another dip in the unfortunately hot spa. Jacinta gave everyone present “scratchies,” $1 lotto cards in honor of her Great Grandma Jess, who used to give out scratchies for Christmas. She had a great time playing with her new drum from my mom (Thank you Mommy!) made locally from all recycled materials, and with her new wooden choo choo train. She actually spent a long time trying to put her new swimming diaper on her new stuffed dog. It was a good day, and it felt like Christmas, finally. Tomorrow, Christmas Day, we will drive 4 hours south to spend a few days at Matt’s dad’s house, and do the whole feast again, not bad aye?

As for the garden, it is zooming along, though I fear the wilt coming from this heat. The corn is now taller than Matt and I can see corn silk and ears forming! Perhaps, this is the most amazing vegetable for me to watch, so tall and majestic, and with no true flowers, I suppose it’s a grain though. Have you ever seen the outer root system that each stalk grow to support itself from the wind? Its’ like a circle of toes surrounding the base of the plant, just amazing. Jacinta, Keith and I have picked a few beans off of the gorgeous vines and chomped on them raw, but they are not yet prolific. I’ve had to stake a few tomato plants, a good sign. I gave up on the caterpillar hunt since the sunflowers don’t seem to mind as much as I do. The melon vines continue to climb and flower. There is one huge pumpkin vine that is growing so forcefully that it has left the garden, climbed through the chicken wire, strangles some garlic, wrapped a few plants in tubs and is now on its way down to ground, which is about 3 feet down. I’ve eaten some arugula and cooked with my coriander. Ooh, and I bought a pear and a mango tree. So the garden is progressing and bringing me great joy, even though I have not spent more than 2 hours in it this week.

The chickens, well, Major and her 4 little black chicks are doing fine, but little Rory, poor little traumatized Rory, the neighbor’s chick, given to us to save him from following his sister’s fate. Major finally accepted this bigger chick under her wing. Rory learned to sleep under Major’s wing and was imitating her every move, as if he were one of her own. Last night, while Keith and Mary were here sleeping, and Matt, Jess and I were camping, a big fat carpet snake, just like the one that ate his sister, somehow got into my snakeproof chick coop and ate little Rory. Keith found the snake curled up and digesting his meal in the remaining chicken’s water dish. The other chickens were hiding in a corner, Major bravely protecting her chicks, and fearing more of the same. The snake was about 10 feet long, and had already done its damage. So Keith pulled him out the pen and drug him around the grass, trying to deter him from returning, without killing him. So terrible, poor little Rory.

Matt worked five days this week since it is a busy time for other workers to take vacation. We hit the beach a couple of times, and due to his ankle cut still healing, he wasn’t able to do much manual labor. Although, he did get back at the mulcher, and then got himself a huge bruise on his arm. Not much luck in the healthy limbs department this month, but he did some successful Christmas shopping! We continue to work on unpacking boxes, the trick is finding space for all of their contents.

Jess is just so much fun these days. She can now run full speed, especially when she is on flat land and loves chasing our legs. She is really in the rhythm of the chicken/duck/bird feed in the morning. She likes to hold her own small bucket of bird seed and when we arrive at either of the two places that we spread seed, she automatically sits down and puts the bucket between her legs. A few times this week, I have needed to hurry a bit in the morning, but no, she will not be hurried in this task. She takes her time: sifting the seeds through her fingers over and over, occasionally throwing out tiny handfuls to the winged creatures who will soon after come and feast. Eventually I begin taking out large handfuls and scattering them myself while she gazes at…….While feeding the smaller birds, usually if we sit down and go slow, the tiny red beaked wrens will come and eat just a few feet from us. She is speaking so many new words now, each week, its’ hard to remember but for a start she’s saying honey, birdie, money, toot toot, stink, (a theme??), Rory (a friend), toes, book, swimming, and car. Jacinta’s become aware of sores, aka..booboos, owies, etc, and points at them until you show her sincere empathy. She calls them “muh??” Her new favorite foods are whole dried bananas, frozen bananas, cherries, gingerbread cookies and veggie soup. She speaks in sentences saying many things that we do not yet understand and is so sincere, she looks at me so intently while she speaks.

I’ll end with another beautiful Jacinta story. Picture her on a big sandy beach when the tide is low in the pitch black night under millions of stars. She is in my arms until she realizes that this is a safe place. First she watches Bronty, her oldest friend, a kind 10 year old girl who dotes on her, running around in circles shining a flashlight down on the sand, searching for something. Then she sees her first crab, about the size of my fist, dig itself back into the sand to hide from us women and girls. Jacinta then signals to me that she wants down by saying, “hmm? Hmm? Hmm?” She then begins chasing Bronty and the light wherever they go, bobbling her little head from side to side, smiling from ear to ear. Melina, my friend, and I follow closely by, laughing and making sure she doesn’t run too close to the water.

Goodnight y’all. Happy Christmas, Happy Hannukah, and happy New Year!

quiz... and merry Christmas

So, today may be the hottest day that I can remember. We went camping last night with our friends Justin and Melina, and their two kids. Beautiful beach...

Anyway, what in the picture below proves our being in Australia? (the fact that it's not snowing is an unacceptable answer).














And this one speaks for itself...

Photos...

Boxes, fuzzy chicks, singing and a full moon

Boxes, fuzzy chicks, singing and a full moooon!

If I were to be concise, which just ain’t who I am, that’s all I’d say for this week: Boxes, fuzzy chicks, singing and a full moooon! So, I’ll go on….After four full months without our “stuff,” knowing that it was somewhere traveling across the ocean or waiting at a port between the USA and Australia, it has arrived! I’d have to say what I was most excited to receive was art, all of the things that hung on our walls in Michigan. I’m wondering why I saved so many boxes of baby/my clothes, the dumbest thing yet that I have found was 2 strings of Christmas lights with US voltage. We were smart enough to give away/sell everything else electric. On the other hand, finding the small box of our Christmas ornaments just before we decorate the lillypilly tree, that was lovely. We now have our drums, guitars and all of our music, and real CDs! All of the great toys that you all gave to Jacinta, they have arrived too! So she can now play with her blocks, puzzle, and her new recent favorite…the teddy bear sitting on a wagon that plays “Teddy Bear’s Picnic” when she tows him along. And our wind chimes…now they hang from the back veranda here, chiming that same beautiful chime that made me smile so often in the day time in Ferndale and woke Matt up so often on windy nights. He too is overjoyed at their arrival (:

Jacinta and I have been enjoying the morning chicken feed, especially now that it includes changing the little chicks’ water, giving them their oatmeal, and seed mix. The four little fuzzy black chicks, born to “Major” a small chicken to begin with are progressing well, now 6 days old. We call them Otto, Iris, Ben Jr, and Divozzo. They “cheep” very sweetly and follow their mum around on her heels, looking for constant guidance. This being my first time experiencing chicks, I am amazed that the hen continues sitting on the chicks once they have hatched. You’d think they’d smother themselves under all of those feathers, but no, they are safe, happy and warm. Keith took in an extra baby chick from a friend this week, a month old though, in hopes that Major could mother this one too, in the same pen. This poor little chick saw its one sibling get eaten by a carpet snake on Wednesday, it then joined Major and her chicks that evening. Unfortunately Major is taking her time in accepting little “Rory” into the nest and chases him away from the food and water. We’ve chased Rory around the chook pen a few times, she is an amazing escape artist. Jacinta is actually helpful in this endeavor! The one time I had to chase him without Keith, Jacinta closely observed my actions and tried to imitate me by holding her hands out to block Rory from escaping through yet another hole in the brambles of the “chicken jungle.” Each time after catching the poor scared little chick, Jess and I sat and stroked the little guy for a while, letting him calm down with the beat of my heart.

The gardens are looking spectacular, especially the sunflowers. They have reached their full height and are about to bloom. There are two small zucchinis on the vines, I’ve cooked with my basil, and ate one strawberry. The teepee garden doesn’t seem to have any pests, the beans are climbing so well, some having reached the tip of the teepee, entwining the corn, the sunflowers, and the barna grass. In the house garden though, the caterpillars must know that sunflowers mean birds, and thus, their destruction. Therefore, the caterpillars are doing their best to destroy the sunflowers before they bloom, they also enjoy the broccoli foliage. I have been out there each night collecting the fat things in a jar, and then feeding them to the chickens each morning. Jess enjoys this… is this bad? I just can’t squash them myself, and the chickens love them. I’ve concocted some chili spray which I will try tomorrow, and created some little box traps to put at the base of the plants. We shall see…I planted a strip of lucerne as green mulch last week, and it is about an inch high. I was anxious to put it in the ground though, and did not properly remove the grass. I feel silly each time I walk by looking at all of the grass growing in the middle of this garden. I’ll get it out some day I suppose.

Jacinta and I planted a bunch of flower seeds, borage, feverfew, chamomile, calendula, pyrethrum, and a few more corn seeds. This is the first time that she actually put the seed in the ground and covered up the seed herself, I was so proud! It rained all day today so the seeds are probably very happy, this type of watering is so much nicer than hose watering. Picture this: every morning we put on gritty clothes, head down to the garden, turn on the hose with 4 holes in it and go for it! I start out with the hose, but it just looks like too much fun, swinging it around, covering up the hole with my finger and spraying it everywhere. So Jacinta throws down her small watering can and NEEDS to use the hose herself. I always remind her, “Spray the dirt Jacinta, not the grass.” She can be gentle and aim well sometimes, but other times she gets focused on one spot and puts the hose straight down into the dirt and holds it hard and fast creating a big hole and a bit of soil erosion until I take it away or pick her up so she’ll water elsewhere. While she’s on a roll, I’ll take the time to weed next to her, but then, never fail, she’ll hose herself down, or me, or accidentally turn it on her face and throw it down in shock. It’s quite a trip, and always includes a complete strip down and new outfit for the day.

Matt worked at the bank three days this week, but of even more importance, he won an auction on a new dishwasher for a great price. This is not just your average dishwasher, it’s a half-size one which uses very little water, less than a sinkful. Each day after work, Jacinta’s face lights up to see her daddy, who she, for some reason, is sometimes calling “mommy,” again. After getting rid of his stuffy bank attire, he’ll sit down for a cup of coffee, hear the day’s events, and look for new job postings on the internet. After this, he’ll usually gather the energy to do something manual, this week: lugging boxes, fiddling with the new dishwasher, tearing apart pallets to re-use their lumber, constructing shelves, and more work on disassembling and reassembling the mulcher. This amazes me, to be so motivated to understand a machine, trying so hard to make sure that not just one hatch works, but that both are up to scratch. I think he has now taken it apart and put it back together over five separate times, it is in better condition now, I hear. Pretty good, aye?

Jacinta has turned over a new leaf, she sleeps through the night now and is fully weaned. We lie on her wool rug on the couch in our room and after a few songs, and sometimes nothing, she’ll find a comfortable spot and fall asleep, no rocking, nothing. That’s the best, she’s so heavy now that standing and rocking is just painful. I no longer need naps, sleeping through the night is truly a pleasure. New words..let’s see…spoon, fish, Matt and Shana. She yells our names, repeating only when one of us yells to other for assistance in the bathtub, it’s hilarious. She still loves to show you her belly button, but can now point out even her elbows, shoulders, and bum when you ask, these are Matt’s teachings (: Keith has taught her how to drink water from a leaf, dew or rain, it’s quite clever. He said that people actually have to do that out in the bush, especially in the desert.

Last week while listening to a CD of Tradition French songs sung by the Parisian children’s choir, I told Matt that the harmony of this particular song just hurt me because it was so beautiful, and that I’d love to someday find another choir to join.
Promptly he replied, “I saw an ad for an acapella group in the paper.” So I inquired and drove out to join them for their last rehearsal for the school year. (The school year ends now, and starts up again in February.) It was in the library of the public elementary school a small beachside town called Scott’s Head. About 11 people, including 2 men forced to sing bass and 2 women singing tenor. No music was passed out, no folders came out, but AMAZING harmonies and rhythm and spirit came out of this humble group. We practiced from 6-8 and sang about 6 songs, 2 South African, 1 Aboriginal lullabye, 1 French/Spanish/Italian creole love song, 1 soulful blues song by Sweet Honey & the Rock, and 1 prayer song in English. They all moved naturally as they sang, clapped crazy beats on the off and on-beats, felt what they were singing and repeated verses and choruses as the conductor led, it was almost like chanting. Somehow I was able to pick up my part and sing along (one big reason was that a guy had held onto his music and passed it over), and it felt good. This was just one of those experiences of harmony, especially found in African music or singing 6 part harmony in a cathedral in Italy that takes you to a higher realm. To top it all off, I drove home humming with the windows down, looking out the window at the sea, the sun setting behind me and the full moon rising in front of me. I sure can’t ask for any more right now, I’m just feeling blessed.

Responses etc

SO, in response to some recent comments...

* I sliced my ankle open on the bottom corner of the screen door, although, yes, I agree, any and all of those injuries sounded likely to ahppen to me. No stitches! Just a really gross cut along my achilles tendon, about 4 inches long, just shallow enough to miss the tendon, deep enough to be able to make it open and close and show some goopy stuff. I promise - no pictures.

* "Whipper snipping" is Australian for "weed whacking."

* no, you're right, we don't get snow doays here. Comfort me while I cry...

* a carport is like a garage without a door. Sort of a roof, I suppose. Protects stuff from hail, which we get some of in big storms.

* a hammer drill is a drill that hammers while it spins, so as to pulverise things like stone, brickwork etc. Had I done that to my foot, oh boy... ouch. Good thing I only injure myself on safe things like doors.

* I love Alex's name for the Harry Potter character. VOldypoo!

* How was Naria, Diane?

* I knew that talking about Harry POtter would make Bethany write something!

* I could draw a map of the farm, but I haven't got a scanner. Maybe I could draw it big and take a photo, we'll see. No photos of me in a tie, however.

* Katie M, please send me a picture of your new 'do', I want to post it!

* below is a picture of Shana's weekend, as she described in the previous posting...

Peace, beautiful people!

Beautiful women

Beautiful women!!!

All that has happened this past week is really just too much to go on in a week, hundreds of reasons to feel blessed and supported by life and love. I woke up this morning in my tent in the land of the Gumbaynggir aboriginal people to the sound of the birds and the heat of the sun on my tent. After rolling around for a few minutes, waiting to hear the rustling of other women waking from their sleep, decided that there was no reason to just lie there waiting, after all, I had had a great solid sleep. So I meandered down past a few women having morning tea, and then down the steep gully into the Kalang River. This would properly awaken my body to the day. What a gorgeous feeling to bathe in a river, even with the slight possibility of your rare snake on the shore, fish swimming by, or hitting your butt on the slimy riverbed. Floating on my back gazing up into the tree canopy watching the birds bounce from tree to tree, I heard a white cockatoo cackle and fly out of sight. At one point amidst my float, I stopped kicking to see if the river could hold me up. An eternity passed as I lied there motionless, allowing the river to carry my mind, body and soul. By then another woman had joined me in the river and celebrated the morning glory of this sacred land. On our way back to breakfast we trailed a red-necked wallaby who had just been rehabilitated into the wild on this plot of land. This was just one hour of an amazing weekend spent with beautiful women.

Privileged I am, I was able to spend hours sitting around the fire (lit upon arrival and kept going for the 48 hours of our stay) with about 25 women ranging from ages 21 up to 75 coming from up to 7 hours drive away, aboriginal, non-aboriginal, some born in South Africa, Ireland, England and the US. We listened, looked and learned as our elders taught us, but all shared our stories and tried to work on reconciliation with each other for the sake of peace, and even more so, for the well-being of the earth.

Aunty June, a slight little woman with a strong voice from Bundyalung country, taught us about kinship, totems, and many other lessons. The most important lessons that I will keep are that secrets, boundaries and mystery breed respect and awe. It is not always better to be frank and share everything, mystery teaches patience.  The second lesson learned is this: Sorry is a futile word, actions are the only way to express regret.

Aunty Em from Gumbaynggir country, which is where I am living in Macksville, is a jolly, smiley, light colored woman who is most comfortable chatting away, sharing stories of her ancestors and herself, and teaching. She taught us to make dilly bags (bags made by knot tying on a piece of twine tied between 2 sticks and lots of patience), make dye using tree bark, to share our stories too, and to laugh amidst toil.

Aunty Jessie of Gumbaynggir country is a sweet, soft spoken, small woman who’s silent demeanor left me wondering about her story. As Aunty Em and Auntie Jessie live only 10 minutes from Matt, Jess and I, we had the privilege of driving them home today. Squashed in the back seat with little Jess on the left and Auntie Jessie on my right giggling at Jacinta’s antics and playing peek-a-boo, I got to hear a little more about her story. Born on the banks of the Nambucca River, about 20 feet from where we drive on the highway on our way to the beach, she was literally forced off every place she ever lived and loved by the white settlers. These parks and beaches where I enjoy the sand, sun and water and marvel at their beauty, while giving thanks for my fortune, they used to be Jessie’s relative’s camps, where they ate, slept, played, birthed and died. They were forced off this spot to make room for what Jessie calls, “the white man’s playground.” They were moved to a new spot, until the white man decided that he really needed that land too. The government said, “We’ll build you a new neighborhood on the other side of town.” This spot was to be far from the water, with no view of the sea upon which they survived. When the public schools became “too” full of aboriginal children, there was a school built for them on an island they inhabited. This island is now named Stuart Island and I drive by on the highway at least twice a week. Once the English realized what a beautiful place this was, the school was torn down, inhabitants forced out and all relocated. Now Stuart Island houses a golf course and a hotel for tourists. The English justified their actions by calling the aboriginal people “nomads,” who had no claims on any land at all. Any land they did have left was later bought for a small price. The strange thing for me coming from America, where Native Americans are on reservations far from me, or perhaps hidden from my recognition, these people are right here, amidst the new society, amongst the people that destroyed all they knew and loved, just living. They are just living on the “other side” of the highway. They are still here, and will always be here, living on their land on the white man’s terms, given the leftovers, land that is unsuitable for a white man’s playground. They watch as we destroy the earth and enjoy our vacations.

The amazing thing about these women is their ability to say it so lightly, to laugh a little, and go on teaching history. Aunty Em’s father was ripped out of his mother’s arms as “a babe in arms,” and shipped off to the North to be raised in a concentration camp-like setting to learn English, Christianity and to be White. He was released at age 17, lived to marry, raise children, a bit violent at times, and an alcoholic. We wonder why they are so many Aboriginal people who are alcoholics? Why do they sniff petrol? Why do they steal property? Why do they make up a large percentage in the jails? The Stolen Generation, the slaughter, the hypocrisy, the destruction of the land, the complete humiliation and exploitation of their culture might be a few explanations I guess. Perhaps these women go on teaching in the hopes that one day we’ll learn how to love and care for the land as they once were able to do. They are the minority, having this energy amidst all of the negativity takes strength.

It was great to share this learning experience with so many other white women, and wrestle with it together, searching for potential positive action. We walked in the rainforest, learned about the native plants and animals on the land, chopped veggies, washed dishes, sang, weaved twine, and broke bread together. I met a few great girls who only live 50 km away so we’ll probably reconnect. I really look forward to this.
Hey, I even got a few leeches on my ankles, first time. This is one more initiation under my belt. Upon return home today, I found that Major, our hen who was sitting on 8 eggs, had hatched 4 tiny fuzzy black chicks. Wow!!! Amazing new life.  

After a great weekend filled with love and learning, I was greeted by Matt and my lovely little girl running to greet me across a field at the camp. Jacinta had enjoyed her first weekend without me, playing hard with Dad, Grandma and Pop. She has turned over a new leaf in her short life so far, she is now 18 months and can go to sleep without milk. She has pooped on the potty (only once though). She says “two” when you say “one.” New words are: swim, Dja Dja, Ben, turtle….hmmm, can’t think of any more. Well, she can touch any body part you say (Matt’s teaching) and loves nestling herself in your lap to sit down for a nice book about cats or any animal, really. She has learned to enter her teepee by the grassy opening without crushing the plants in the dirt. She loves watering the plants (and accidentally the grass) with the hose and watering herself into oblivion. She’ll have whole conversations with you, so earnest that you must feign complete comprehension. And hair, it’s really coming along now!

Matt had his first week working as a bank teller, he is no longer strictly in training, but…poor guy, he has to put a big L in his window to warn customers that he’s Learning, or maybe it’s a big T for training. I suppose a big L would be worse to ponder for us Americans, given our way of saying “Loser” with a big L sign on your forehead. But he comes home happy that he’s earned some money, has a cup of coffee, plays with Jess, maybe does some manual labor like lawn mowing or whipper snipping, but everyday, works on the search for a Good Job. He also worked all week at getting to know the mulcher, taking it apart and putting it back together repeatedly, trying to understand why the side shoot isn’t cutting. I’m so glad that is interesting to both Matt and Keith.

I didn’t do too much in the garden this week, but I sure watch it grow, and the ground is almost completely covered by plants now, the plants are enormous. I took a few new cuttings in the hopes of bringing more native flowering shrubs to my gardens. There is one plant that I have fallen in love with called Kangaroo Paw. We have one outside our bedroom window where we watch the honeyeaters bounce upon its flimsy stalk pecking at the “paw.” I mulched a few trees, and also dumped a few loads of dirt on my foot as I struggled to place the wheelbarrow near a hilly dirt mound. That was no fun, perhaps my first frustrating moment in working. I have a lot of trees left to mulch. Matt tries to remind me to go slow and remember that Jacinta is my full-time job, and that anything extra I can accomplish is just a bonus. I think this is good advice, but it’s hard to look at all of this potential and just let it simmer for a few years. We shall see.

I thought of apologizing for the extreme length of this letter, but then, if I was truly sorry, I’d have condensed it, aye? Thank you all for inspiring me to express these many thoughts and experiences on email.
Love,
Shana

Beautiful women

Beautiful women!!!

All that has happened this past week is really just too much to go on in a week, hundreds of reasons to feel blessed and supported by life and love. I woke up this morning in my tent in the land of the Gumbaynggir aboriginal people to the sound of the birds and the heat of the sun on my tent. After rolling around for a few minutes, waiting to hear the rustling of other women waking from their sleep, decided that there was no reason to just lie there waiting, after all, I had had a great solid sleep. So I meandered down past a few women having morning tea, and then down the steep gully into the Kalang River. This would properly awaken my body to the day. What a gorgeous feeling to bathe in a river, even with the slight possibility of your rare snake on the shore, fish swimming by, or hitting your butt on the slimy riverbed. Floating on my back gazing up into the tree canopy watching the birds bounce from tree to tree, I heard a white cockatoo cackle and fly out of sight. At one point amidst my float, I stopped kicking to see if the river could hold me up. An eternity passed as I lied there motionless, allowing the river to carry my mind, body and soul. By then another woman had joined me in the river and celebrated the morning glory of this sacred land. On our way back to breakfast we trailed a red-necked wallaby who had just been rehabilitated into the wild on this plot of land. This was just one hour of an amazing weekend spent with beautiful women.

Privileged I am, I was able to spend hours sitting around the fire (lit upon arrival and kept going for the 48 hours of our stay) with about 25 women ranging from ages 21 up to 75 coming from up to 7 hours drive away, aboriginal, non-aboriginal, some born in South Africa, Ireland, England and the US. We listened, looked and learned as our elders taught us, but all shared our stories and tried to work on reconciliation with each other for the sake of peace, and even more so, for the well-being of the earth.

Aunty June, a slight little woman with a strong voice from Bundyalung country, taught us about kinship, totems, and many other lessons. The most important lessons that I will keep are that secrets, boundaries and mystery breed respect and awe. It is not always better to be frank and share everything, mystery teaches patience.  The second lesson learned is this: Sorry is a futile word, actions are the only way to express regret.

Aunty Em from Gumbaynggir country, which is where I am living in Macksville, is a jolly, smiley, light colored woman who is most comfortable chatting away, sharing stories of her ancestors and herself, and teaching. She taught us to make dilly bags (bags made by knot tying on a piece of twine tied between 2 sticks and lots of patience), make dye using tree bark, to share our stories too, and to laugh amidst toil.

Aunty Jessie of Gumbaynggir country is a sweet, soft spoken, small woman who’s silent demeanor left me wondering about her story. As Aunty Em and Auntie Jessie live only 10 minutes from Matt, Jess and I, we had the privilege of driving them home today. Squashed in the back seat with little Jess on the left and Auntie Jessie on my right giggling at Jacinta’s antics and playing peek-a-boo, I got to hear a little more about her story. Born on the banks of the Nambucca River, about 20 feet from where we drive on the highway on our way to the beach, she was literally forced off every place she ever lived and loved by the white settlers. These parks and beaches where I enjoy the sand, sun and water and marvel at their beauty, while giving thanks for my fortune, they used to be Jessie’s relative’s camps, where they ate, slept, played, birthed and died. They were forced off this spot to make room for what Jessie calls, “the white man’s playground.” They were moved to a new spot, until the white man decided that he really needed that land too. The government said, “We’ll build you a new neighborhood on the other side of town.” This spot was to be far from the water, with no view of the sea upon which they survived. When the public schools became “too” full of aboriginal children, there was a school built for them on an island they inhabited. This island is now named Stuart Island and I drive by on the highway at least twice a week. Once the English realized what a beautiful place this was, the school was torn down, inhabitants forced out and all relocated. Now Stuart Island houses a golf course and a hotel for tourists. The English justified their actions by calling the aboriginal people “nomads,” who had no claims on any land at all. Any land they did have left was later bought for a small price. The strange thing for me coming from America, where Native Americans are on reservations far from me, or perhaps hidden from my recognition, these people are right here, amidst the new society, amongst the people that destroyed all they knew and loved, just living. They are just living on the “other side” of the highway. They are still here, and will always be here, living on their land on the white man’s terms, given the leftovers, land that is unsuitable for a white man’s playground. They watch as we destroy the earth and enjoy our vacations.

The amazing thing about these women is their ability to say it so lightly, to laugh a little, and go on teaching history. Aunty Em’s father was ripped out of his mother’s arms as “a babe in arms,” and shipped off to the North to be raised in a concentration camp-like setting to learn English, Christianity and to be White. He was released at age 17, lived to marry, raise children, a bit violent at times, and an alcoholic. We wonder why they are so many Aboriginal people who are alcoholics? Why do they sniff petrol? Why do they steal property? Why do they make up a large percentage in the jails? The Stolen Generation, the slaughter, the hypocrisy, the destruction of the land, the complete humiliation and exploitation of their culture might be a few explanations I guess. Perhaps these women go on teaching in the hopes that one day we’ll learn how to love and care for the land as they once were able to do. They are the minority, having this energy amidst all of the negativity takes strength.

It was great to share this learning experience with so many other white women, and wrestle with it together, searching for potential positive action. We walked in the rainforest, learned about the native plants and animals on the land, chopped veggies, washed dishes, sang, weaved twine, and broke bread together. I met a few great girls who only live 50 km away so we’ll probably reconnect. I really look forward to this.
Hey, I even got a few leeches on my ankles, first time. This is one more initiation under my belt. Upon return home today, I found that Major, our hen who was sitting on 8 eggs, had hatched 4 tiny fuzzy black chicks. Wow!!! Amazing new life.  

After a great weekend filled with love and learning, I was greeted by Matt and my lovely little girl running to greet me across a field at the camp. Jacinta had enjoyed her first weekend without me, playing hard with Dad, Grandma and Pop. She has turned over a new leaf in her short life so far, she is now 18 months and can go to sleep without milk. She has pooped on the potty (only once though). She says “two” when you say “one.” New words are: swim, Dja Dja, Ben, turtle….hmmm, can’t think of any more. Well, she can touch any body part you say (Matt’s teaching) and loves nestling herself in your lap to sit down for a nice book about cats or any animal, really. She has learned to enter her teepee by the grassy opening without crushing the plants in the dirt. She loves watering the plants (and accidentally the grass) with the hose and watering herself into oblivion. She’ll have whole conversations with you, so earnest that you must feign complete comprehension. And hair, it’s really coming along now!

Matt had his first week working as a bank teller, he is no longer strictly in training, but…poor guy, he has to put a big L in his window to warn customers that he’s Learning, or maybe it’s a big T for training. I suppose a big L would be worse to ponder for us Americans, given our way of saying “Loser” with a big L sign on your forehead. But he comes home happy that he’s earned some money, has a cup of coffee, plays with Jess, maybe does some manual labor like lawn mowing or whipper snipping, but everyday, works on the search for a Good Job. He also worked all week at getting to know the mulcher, taking it apart and putting it back together repeatedly, trying to understand why the side shoot isn’t cutting. I’m so glad that is interesting to both Matt and Keith.

I didn’t do too much in the garden this week, but I sure watch it grow, and the ground is almost completely covered by plants now, the plants are enormous. I took a few new cuttings in the hopes of bringing more native flowering shrubs to my gardens. There is one plant that I have fallen in love with called Kangaroo Paw. We have one outside our bedroom window where we watch the honeyeaters bounce upon its flimsy stalk pecking at the “paw.” I mulched a few trees, and also dumped a few loads of dirt on my foot as I struggled to place the wheelbarrow near a hilly dirt mound. That was no fun, perhaps my first frustrating moment in working. I have a lot of trees left to mulch. Matt tries to remind me to go slow and remember that Jacinta is my full-time job, and that anything extra I can accomplish is just a bonus. I think this is good advice, but it’s hard to look at all of this potential and just let it simmer for a few years. We shall see.

I thought of apologizing for the extreme length of this letter, but then, if I was truly sorry, I’d have condensed it, aye? Thank you all for inspiring me to express these many thoughts and experiences on email.
Love,
Shana

Horcruxes, emergency room and physics

In all likelihood, Shana will sit down tomorrow night and write her weekly journal. Tonight, she’s not here; in fact, this whole weekend she’s been attending a womens' retreat about an hour away from here. I don’t really know the organisation, or the theme, or anything, other than it’s led by a couple of local Aboriginal elders. And she was excited

So young Jess has had to have a daddy weekend, which is fine all but in the middle of the night. My plan was to spend all day at the beach, because – well, who need an excuse? But a few hours before Shana was leaving, I had cause to make my first acquaintance with the local emergency room.

So here’s the quiz to determine how well you know me. Did I:

1. fall from a dodgy ladder and break my elbow again


2. have a shelf in the carport collapse on my head and giving me a concussion


3. pierce my foot with a hammer drill


4. slice my ankle on a screen door

Post your guesses in the comments section of the blog…

Anyway, I’m obviously surviving quite fine, and so is Jess, since her grandparents are also looking after her here.

For my part, I’m still looking for a good job. I’m lucky enough to be working at the bank, as a teller. It’s fine except for the tie. I promise no photos of me in a tie. In the meantime, my mental energy is dedicated to coming up with grand schemes for graywater systems, enormous shade-cloth megaroofs, house extensions, suspension bridges and other such things that are likely in violation of physics. I never liked physics.

I’m rereading the 6th Harry Potter book, since I’ve run out of books, and our stuff is still not here (but we’re told it’s cleared quarantine and customs and will be here any day now…). Anyway, I wanted to restate my theory that the Horcrux that will be revealed in book seven is indeed Harry’s scar. By saying so now, I’ll be able to do some I-told-you-so-ing when the book comes out and proves that I’m smarter than Dumbledore. If, of course, I’m wrong, then I can edit this posting on the blog to not even mention the whole subject. Win-win for me! Anyway, HP fans, think it through and I defy you to tell me I’m wrong…

That’s all that’s on my mind for now. Like you, I’ll look forward to Shana’s eloquent reflections when she next writes them. She paints me in such a nice light, even when I’m a major pain in the bum.

Peace, all!

Pictures

This is a teepee made of barna grass, with passionfruit vines and beans climbing the poles. In the surrounding garden are sunflowers, corn, leeks, cucumber, tomato. Inside are some things that Jacinta apparently needs.
Cornbaby!
Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepy.
Window watching.

Sarcasm, and some photos

So what I have realised in my first two weeks as a bank teller is that I really missed the sarcasm that Australians have. Americans can be sarcastic occasionally, but tend to explain it afterwards, somewhat spoiling the whole point of it. The women I work with are soooo sarcastic that it makes me forget that I have to wear a tie everyday, and that implies and ironed shirt, too. What a hassle.

Anyway, here's some pictures that have nothing to do with anything I just said.

Wanted to buy MULCHER

Wanted to buy: MULCHER

Good evening y’all. I come to you contented after a successful week having accomplished my goal of acquiring a mulcher. After weeks of Matt’s help in searching the classifieds, ebay and visits to the local mower shops, I put an ad in the local papers, “Wanted to buy: Mulcher 5-10hp  Petrol motor Handles branches 65mm+ Good working order. Call 6568 1986.”  I must first marvel at the fact that in this town, population 7,000, there are 3 mower shops right down town. Given the prices and how big people’s lawns are here, it’s a big business here! I received 3 calls, 2 with little motors and high prices, and one older model with no price, he wanted an offer. Thus, Keith packed Jess and I up in the truck with his trailer and off we went. 2 Hours later, we’re home with a BIG mulcher, a little poorer, and I now officially own my first piece of machinery! My garden will be oohing and ahhing with contentment by next week.

Matt had his last week of training at the bank, and worked at the window. Jacinta and I visited a few times to say hello and meet his co-workers. Jacinta marveled at her dressed up “daddy,” poor guy has to wear a tie every day and touch more money that any of us could ever dream of. She was a bit thrown off by the glass preventing her from crawling over to him, but it has turned into a novelty. Matt has regular workdays scheduled for the next few weeks and is happy to be done training. One of his highlights at work was almost sticking his foot in his mouth in front of a customer who has just literally driven into the nearby hardware store’s window.

This week was full of rain, once again. I could tell you that the water tank is full, but it was full last week. I spoke of the beautiful pond at the base of the land, full of purple water lilies and lily pads. Well, the pond is now fuller than it has been in over 3 years and the plant life within is struggling to grow up and reach the surface once again. The night before one of the big storms we had been walking around the pond at sunset, close to the water’s edge, picking up branches here and there to edge the gardens. After the storm, our footsteps were covered with water, and perhaps 4 more feet beyond our steps were inundated. I’m contemplating growing rice here. A few more trees fell down during the storms……mulch!! I am grateful that the hail did not affect any of the plants. The corn is now as tall as Jacinta. A few plants are being munched off at the base, and some of the bean vines have been chopped down by some hungry caterpillar. I have to smile at the two large unidentified weeds in the house garden which have been munched to death while most of the other edible plants thrive.

Jacinta is a content little girl. I love watching her play in the water at the beach. She loves the mucky sloppy sand, covering her toes with it and digging for tiny seashells. Outings this week included swimming a few times this week, a picnic with friends, playing at the park, 2 drives to Coff’s Harbor (the nearest town big enough to have a big mall, industry, and beaches) to bid on, and then pick up items from a silent auction, feeding 50+ seagulls french fries while hiding out from a storm behind the bathrooms at the beach, a bike ride to town, and today, a Walk against Global Warming near the beach. Jess and I got lost and missed the first half and when we found the group, we ran into my friend Michelle and her son, walking very slowly with Jess and Rory who is 3 and wanted to push the stroller. We then missed the music and dance at the end, and skipped the indoor speeches for the kids’ sake and went swimming. Jacinta is becoming affectionate with little Rory as she sees him at least once a week now. She stands near him smiling, expectantly waiting for a hug, but she doesn’t know how to give one, just to accept. It’s very sweet, especially the smile that sweeps across her face after playing alone, amidst a crowd of unfamiliar kids or adults, when Rory shows up somewhere. So I guess, our first demonstration experience here was quite pleasant but I’ll work on truly joining in next time!

Jess has made it through a few days with no nap at all, and this leads to a good night sleep. She seems to play better on her own at some points in the day, it’s like a pseudo-nap. Today she stayed at home with Grandma and Pop while Matt and I saw the Harry Potter movie with some friends. As Mary, “Grandma” marveled at how much fun she was, “She didn’t winge at all!” They put up Christmas decorations, read books, walked around outside, and had a good time. This was a good lead up to Jess’ first whole weekend without mom, I’ll be going on a women’s camping retreat next weekend. Matt’s not looking forward to the middle of the night, but the rest will be great, we think.

So on the animal front, the chickens are not laying right now. We think it’s the storms, the intimidating carpet snake who has gotten mysteriously fat this week perching above one of the nesting boxes in the chicken coop, and perhaps strange faces visiting. One of the bigger chooks keeps sitting on her egg and breaking it, perhaps a lack of grit in her diet. And…well, Jess while excitedly awaiting the results as I reach under Mrs.Red, turned the basket upside-down and dropped the one big egg that was laid. Oh well, no quiche this week. I put together a little hatchery for one of the small Bantam chickens to sit on her fertilized eggs and eventually hatch a few little chicks, while protected from the snake and other predators. Stringing chicken wire around a metal shelving unit with twine, it was a lengthy process including a few reopened chicken wire wounds, but I did it myself with no help required, well, except for the door, Keith will do that part. I am taking on the job of bringing up new little chickens in the hopes of more little eggs that Jacinta can eat (she loves the little eggs) and anyway, who can resist baby animals???

I love cooking for people, especially nice people, so this was another highlight of the week. We had our new friends, the organic farmers and their kids over for dinner while Keith and Mary were at a Christmas party. They are so much fun, what a lucky meeting through the biodynamic food co-op. We have so much in common, it’s amazing that we’d meet anyone like this out here in the semi-boonies. They are into the Nourishing Traditions cooking and soak their grains, sprout everything, and eat really well. Melina laughs in shock that she has actually met someone who’s heard of Nourishing Traditions and Sally Fallon. I’ve just never had the determination to put the time into doing this type of cooking, but it does truly promote great health with through an excellent digestive system. Perhaps I’ll find the time, this family and their sense of joy, peace, and satisfaction, their lack of fear and will to play and work hard, it’s all very inspiring. The kids treat Jacinta like a doll, playing, dressing, pushing her around in the stroller,  until the board games come out, then she’s like an annoying little sister.

December is here, Jacinta is now exactly 1 ½ years old, Christmas is on the way, and the heat is on its way. Following the movie, Matt and Keith installed the mulcher into its new home, next to the compost heap under a tarp. After they pulled it apart to fix a minor issue, they taught me how to use it. It’s a mean machine, very powerful. We threw some sticks and barna grass in and marveled at the beautiful mulch. While Jess and I mowed the inside of her little teepee with scissors (???), Matt dug out a bit more dirt for his future workshop. He then rototilled a strip in the teepee garden where I’ve been wanting to plant some greens specifically to be mulched. Work is slow, little by little, but the possibilities are endless. I finished off the night by candlelight chatting over a cup of coffee with Keith and Mary knitting, with the millions of frogs singing in the dam, looking at the bright stars.  And now, having shared this all with you, the week is done. I look forward to chatting with you all here someday, listening to the frogs, under the stars. But for now, Good night.