The word ‘sensational’ seems like an over-rated state of mind to me. Life is better when things are smooth and excitement is far from the front door. Of course, it’s true that in life, sometimes trouble is rarely far away. An individual however, is under no obligation to invite that bad energy into their home.
Earlier in the week, Sandra began reading a book by an Australian female author. The book had been sitting in the shelf untouched for years. It was probably purchased at one of those second hand book shops which are part of the Australian landscape. New books are expensive, so there’s an active market for the second hand variety. That’s what proper recycling looks like. Anyway the book sat on a dusty shelf in just such a shop, along with other books waiting to be re-homed. Those businesses have a certain smell to them, and anyone who’s worked in a library probably knows it intimately, but of course there’d be less dust in such hallowed, but mostly better resourced, places. One day long ago, Sandra spotted the book sitting all unloved and stuff on the dusty shelf, and made a purchase. It hadn’t been read. Until this week, that is.
The book is an account of the authors life as a drug user, and how the author paid for the chemicals. It’s not my kind of book, but you know, Sandra can read whatever she wants to. No big deal. Except, the narrative was so extraordinary, that Sandra felt the need to speak to me about it. For the record, my blood pressure was rising with each new discussion. Not a fan.
Eventually, after a few days of this, I’d had enough, and so put a hard limit under any further discussions upon this subject. Such stories are not for my ears and mind. You see, when I was a young bloke, my sister went ‘off the rails’ as they say. It’s indicative of the seriousness of the situation that Sandra and I had been married almost thirty years, and Sandra has never met my sister. There’s a good reason for that.
In many ways, and from the clarity of hindsight, it’s really quite an impressive achievement for one person within a family group, to cause so much mayhem. Early on the ill winds stank to high heaven, so my decision was to discreetly distance myself from the entire affair. The rest of the family, well, the situation consumed all of the available energy. As a young bloke, all the adults could ever talk about were the dramas surrounding my sister – and she no longer even resided in the household. Oh you got straight A’s, that’s nice, we’re really worried about… Oh you’re captain of the school cross country team, that’s nice. Have you heard about the latest with your sister… It was all so weird, but it was kind of like living with a ghost in the house who’s presence is always felt, but they’re never really quite there.
Cutting the proverbial Gordian Knot, I moved out of home as early as possible, and walked away from all of them. Life became suddenly easier, and less troublesome with them all out of my life. At that stage no bridges were burned, the easy option was to do what the kids call ‘ghosting’, and that meant not speaking to them, whilst generally being unavailable. And the truce stayed that way for years. Blissful peace.
Around that time, a friend of mine worked in a computer shop in a large shopping centre. It just happened to be around the corner from the bookshop my dad owned. My friend was nosy enough, and alert enough, to drop by the shop, ask some pointed questions, and have a chat with my dad, as you do. At that time, I hadn’t seen my dad for a dozen years at least and had no idea where he was.
My mother was a difficult lady, and it’s not a great leap of intuition to comprehend why their marriage busted up in the mid 1970’s. Due to his absence, I barely knew the bloke. He seemed nice enough. With a touch of guilt, but also pressure from the well meaning friend, I decided in the early 1990’s to go and see him and say hello. He hadn’t seen me in a dozen years, and yet! Yet! All he could talk about was my sister. He’d become embroiled in that mess as well. To hear that talk was enough for me, I was done with the lot of them.
When a person walks away from their family, there’s a lot of judgement, I sure can tell you. For years they were all kept at a nice discreet distance. By the mid 1990’s, Sandra and I had become engaged, and well, there’s a bit of disbelief in the stories I recounted. Sandra knew my friends as well, and my well meaning friend thoughtfully put her in contact with my dad. Unbeknownst to me, and much to my amusement, my dad spent a few hours talking with Sandra, about my sister. It’s impolite to say: ‘I told you so’.
Needless to say an invitation to the wedding was not extended. Unfortunately, we did invite my mother whom Sandra was, despite my warnings, attempting to have a sort of relationship with. But far out, did that matriarch bring enough drama in a short period of time to make up for the lack ability to do that over the recent years. It was a truly impressive effort to have done so, but it was just all so unnecessary, and afterwards the decision was made to permanently cut ties. After all the drama, pain and angst, you’d be surprised how easy that path was to take. Haven’t seen any of them in almost three decades, some are now dead, most are interstate, and that’s all cool with me.
However, the discussions about the book Sandra was having with me earlier in the week, were too close to home. Respectfully, the unfinished book is now on its way to the opportunity shop (thrift shop). And good riddance to bad eggs.
Work around the property has had to fit in around the weather this week. However, the war on rabbits is going well, there have been sacrifices, and the area near to where the large Echium shrub was removed, now looks less like a garden bed, and more like a bomb site. Oh well…
More large rocks were brought back up the hill this week. They’re being used on a new rock wall which retains soil for a line of water tanks. Needless to say, the rocks have to be very large and heavy indeed, just so as to do their job properly.
It’s hard to see in the above image, but that project is also taking quite a lot of soil behind the rocks. The rocks sit further downhill than the original line of soil which makes for a wider flat area. The hope there is that they’ll be less likely to tilt.
The soil is being removed from the site of an all metal shed which will probably be deconstructed over the next week or so. This shed is odd because the rate of corrosion is beyond anything I’ve previously experienced. It is possible that the combination of different metals used in it’s construction, means that we’ve somehow created a very unusual battery which masquerades as a shed.
For readers interest, that galvanised steel post is not out in the weather. The shed is unsafe and will be replaced with a timber framed shed. So far, that is the only shed which displays such rust. It’s weird, and candidly the steel looks like it was attacked by a very careless welder.
One day was warm and sunny, so we split firewood and hauled it back up the hill. It’s nice to see some firewood back in the shed (not the rusty shed in the photo above).
Firewood which is too damp for use, gets stored outside in the weather in a big pile where the fierce summer sun will eventually dry it all out.
You may ask how we know whether firewood is too damp to use in the wood heater? We’ve got a digital moisture meter which gives an exact reading of the moisture in the timber. Easy. But really, once you know what you’re looking at with firewood, it’s simple enough to guess the moisture content at a glance.
The solar power system scored a minor upgrade this week. A plastic junction box which was near the end of its useful life, was replaced with a more sturdy metal box. Incidentally the box was about $200, and it’d been a while since we’d purchased any building materials, so the cost came as something of an unpleasnt surprise. It’s a good box though.
In breaking produce news, the kale plants have all begun to flower this week. We grow enough of those plants that they sort of look after themselves in that garden bed and grow in a regular cycle. The garden bed soil there is fed maybe once or twice a year, and the kale grows just like a weed. A very useful plant in the kitchen.
Silverbeet grows in some of the many raised beds just outside the door to the kitchen. They are likewise enjoying the conditions. Unlike the kale, I’ve not yet learned how to save seed from the silverbeet plants.
With a bit of extra spring warmth from that big fusion reactor in the sky (otherwise known as the sun), the Asparagus spears are beginning to pop through the well fed soil.
Bizarrely, the snow last weekend, high winds, and torrential rain during the week haven’t knocked off the blossoms on one of the nectarines. Or is it a peach? I now forget, and that’s what happens when the wind blows the plant tags away! Whatever, the plant is a survivor. Let’s hope the fruit is good.
Plenty of tiny apricots have also survived the weather. Due to regular filthy spring weather, it’s been about four years since we’ve had a decent apricot crop. And whilst it’s still early, I’m hopeful.
Almonds are even more cold sensitive than apricots (in my experience), and yet some of those tiny fruit have also survived the recent extreme weather. Note to self, don’t count your fruit until you’re harvesting it.
The video we made this week, covers the kitchen garden, and Ollie (aka Mr Freckles).
Onto the flowers:
The temperature outside now at about 11am is 12’C (54’F). So far for last year there has been 699.0mm (27.5 inches) which is up from last weeks total of 680.6mm (26.8 inches)