tractor talk

Well I have got my technology together and I now have a piccy of my beautiful tractor. We’ve become good friends already doing those little things together that make life worthwhile. She has few vices, is careful about everything she does. Stella has become a little concerned but I’ve assured her we are just good friends. Owning a tractor is as good as I dreamed it would be.

first day with big yellow

well i went to work trying to prepare for my biggest presentation to staff of both the organisations I work for trying to convince them that wat I have been employed to do is very important. Come 4.30 it just got too much. I thought I should go home to see how big yellow was.

As I said in my comment to comments there was Brian and Glen fine tuning its running gear. Brian again said goodbye so it was my task to take the 44 gallon drum of water up to the toaster shed. I’d got I’d say 3 metres with no mishap but it was the 4th that threw me. I pulled the lever teh wrong way and teh 44 gallon drum tumbled out of teh loader bucket to teh ground. Glen had gone to open teh gate and Brian had said goodbye so I tried to sneak to the dented drum to put it back on the loader. Unforunately I heard Brian get out of his car laughing and Glen walking back shaking his head. I didnt think it was that funny.

Next lesson was going up the track to the toaster. I got to the flat bit of the track starting to get the feel. I changed up into second gear. With this I surged to 5 km/hr feeling pretty happy until the 44 gall drum decided the pace was a bit much and got off. This time it fell further and was looking pretty dented. Unfortunately Glen was walking directly behind and witnessed the whole thing. He didnt shake his head this time but he did say something under his breath. I think it was something to the effect that if God wanted him to continue to be a prophet he wanted to work with better people otherwise it was going to be counter productive.

I wont go to my final humiliation of running over the tree and go directly to the prophets own misdemeanours. We decided to go up the track to get stone for the floor of the toaster. We took it up over the hill with him driving. We filled it with stones and then he tried to get up the hill unsuccessfully. He backed down the hill with a creative plan B. He attacked the hill again and with som etrouble got back over saying I lost a couple of rocks. he got out of the tractor to see that he had lost all of the rocks. I did wonder why God picks such poor people for his team but also felt a bit better about my own failings.

So score after day 1
Destroyed 44 gall drum
Small shrub looking doubtful
Rock collecting expedition a total failure
Had a hell of a good time

big yellow news

I haven’t blogged for over a month. Where the heck did March go. Well starting Wednesday this is going to be a big blog week for me. I better start with the big one. Yep Keith is the proud owner of a big old but beautiful yellow tractor. After that intimate Commie Dinner in Hornsby where everyone told me why i should have a tractor I finally realised it was God’s will. I have fought it for eight months but the Lord will have his way. Let me tell you the story.

Glen Curran is currently staying with us at present helping us build the first toaster cabin. He is also in fact God’s prophet as it was he who let me drive his tractor in Tasmania for two days. God spoke to me through that experience challenging me to think about tractors for my own selfish needs but I have been reluctant to listen.

Anyway one afternoon on my way home from work I saw this little tractor. It was yellow, it was old and it was cute. It didnt want much for itself which made me think it had an issue with self confidence. It needed someone to care and respect it. I went and said hello and it seemed nice in every way. A few oil leaks but nonetheless an all round nice tractor.

I took this news back home to enthusiastic excitement from Stella and a considered cautious optimism from the prophet Glen. He agreed to come and have a look. He too was taken in by the wily charms of the little (actually its a bit big) yellow tractor. He prophesied that it was a good tractor and whilst I may not need it I certainly should get it. God’s word can be powerful. He also suggested that someone who knew what they were talking about should look at it as well. In obedience I went to the decreed Diesel mechanic and asked him to meet the big yellow tractor. Alas he too fell under its charms and declared it to be a good tractor notwithstanding a few leaks. I guess we all leak from time to time. I thought if three grown men could fall in love with the big yellow tractor on first meetings then God was certainly in this.

I stepped out in faith and asked the big yellow tractor’s owner if he would see his way clear to me buying it. After a days consideration he said yes. I said whoopee and Stella was beside herself with excitement. She hadn’t even met it at this stage.

The man selling it was Brian. A man who had up until recently lived 4 kiometres down the road on a similar block to ours. He said he would like to deliver the tractor personally to say farewell. I came home a bit early to welcome him and the big yellow tractor to its new home. Glen arrived home from work about five minutes before the tractor arrived but just after I had started to hear the tractor in the distance on its way ‘home’. I said to Glen as he got out of the car. Glen can you hear the tractor. its coming. He too was excited. I never realised Prophets got excited. I always thought they were too busy renting garments from their body waiting on God. No this prophet was a titchy bit excited.

And then it appeared bouncing along the road in a way that somehow reminded me of Thomas the Tank engine. Brian at the helm and his wife in the car behind. He drove into our place and got off the tractor. I detected a tear in his eye. His wife Annette got out of the car a bit choked up as well. We talked a while but then it was time for them to go. I said if you ever want and come a drive the tractor again you would be most welcome. He said “Could I?” Yes today was a special day.

For the Lonely and Unloved

Back in Alice after a crazy Easter visiting Melbourne, Sydney and Brisbane in the space of a week. It was a really special time though as I got to participate in some really siginificant moments in the lives of some people who are important to me. Any way, the weather here is just glorious. Warm days and cool nights. In the evenings we are sitting by the fire outside again burning mulga. The bummer is that the Alice pool closes in 3 weeks so I can’t do my laps after work after April. Any way, I was driving home after my swim yesterday and turned on the radio to hear the end of an interview with a guy called Leon Spurling (I think?) who is playing in Alice tonight at the Lane. He has just released a CD called “Songs for the Lonely and Unloved”. I thought it must be a joke but they weren’t laughing. Can you imagine going to the counter in a shop to buy it? Or  giving it to a friend - a way of politely telling them you do not love them. Made me remember those CDs “Music to Feel Left Out By” circulating some time back. When I’m feeling lonely and unloved I just listen to Leonard Cohen and feel much better. Leonard and I have spent many nights together in the past but fortunately I haven’t really needed him so much in more recent years.  Although I  could be starting to get that way soon. In the last week Keith has been spending all his non work time way up the back of our block in a secluded spot with a couple of mates come up to stay from Tassie.  They reckon they are building a hut up there. Maybe I will have to dig out Leonard or maybe I should go into town tonight to the Lane and listen to Leon with all the unloved and lonely in Alice.

A Brush with Fame

Last night I was in the kitchen cooking dinner for Stephanie and her partner, Greg, who were coming over later, when I heard someone calling out “Hello” from the verandah. I walked out thinking our guests had arrived early but instead there was Lorna! “Wow” I said, “I know you! You’re Lorna from Njapitji Njapitji.” She nodded, but was looking a bit puzzled, obviously expecting to see our neighbors and not me, but I couldn’t let her go without letiing her know I still knew how to sing “Heads and Shoulders” in Pijantatjara”.  So there I was, standing on our verandah stupidly touching my head and shoulders singing “Kata, Allipiri etc” . She told me she has now left Njapitji Njapitji after 3 years and is now working at the Institue for Aboriginal Development with our neighbour, Mallie, who also only started there last week. It is all really exciting becasue there haven’t been language teachers at IAD and now there is Lorna and my neighbour. How good is that! I’m going to see if I can learn some Arrerente this year.

another take on mixups in alice

Both Stella and I now have our new bikes and we are having lots of fun, well mostly. Sunday was what you might call ‘bike day’. I went for a long ride in the morning inspired by one of the people I work with who is really a bike Nazi. If you don’t ride 100km for a bit of relaxation you aren’t doing it right. Well forget the 100km but I was pretty happy with my 25km.

Stella not to be outdone decided that she would ride into Alice Springs to the “Alice Springs Film festival’ which is actually a travelling version of the ‘Sydney Film Festival’ See come and live here you wont miss anything.

I dropped Stella at the start of the Simpsons Gap to Alice bike track and planned to pick her up the other end and take her into the theatre another 5 kilometers. She suggested that if I wasn’t there then she would keep going and I just pick her up on the road. The planning was impeccable.

I got to the pick up point, she wasn’t there, I decide to go to theatre to check to make sure she wasn’t quicker than I thought. She’s not there, I ride back to pick up point thinking she must be stressed and tired. I wait for another hour realising that this plan wasn’t as smart as we’d planned the plan to be. I start to realise that this ride was quite long and would take much longer than the plan. Night is starting to fall. Go to theatre one more time to check no bike in the rack then go home and get my bike, go back to pick up spot and ride back along the track to find out the problem. Leave message for her in case she exits while I’m away. Ride on the track for 8 km, I’m buggered, its getting dark. Pass guy coming the other way who remembers seeing a redfaced woman fitting her description about an hour before back near where I started my rescue mission. I thank him kindly, turn around and accelerate off. Shortly after this man effortlessly overtakes my huffing and puffing and disappears into the greying night. I lift my cadence (learnt that in the manual I got with the bike) but realise I still have a way to go to becoming a competent rider let alone a Nazi.

I’m not sure how you put sub stories into print but this is one sits inside the story above. When I am returning from the theatre I notice a girl in red shorts walking toward the bike track. I return to pick up point and think that as I’m waiting I’ll go across the road and look at Flynns grave which I have now driven past 400 times without stopping. Get to the grave and notice that the red shorts girl had changed her trajectory away from where I had stopped and was waiting to coincidently head towards the grave. I walk around it realising there is not much here, and start to walk away, while the red shorts girl stands awkwardly nearby but staying clear of the grave. I then walk in another direction to have look around, you know weeing on the corners sort of stuff. I am walking back to the car and see the red shorts girl slip past where my car is to the bike track. Don’t think any more about it. One hour later when I come back with my bike to start the rescue mission I pull up at the start of the bike path just as the red shorts girl is coming out. The poor girl must have thought I was weirdo incorporated and this was a dangerous moment. Feeling like you are seen as a dangerous person is a very bad feeling. Feeling like you are in the presence of a dangerous person I guess is even worse.

Get back to car, drive to the theatre. Stella is outside with a friend wondering why I hadn’t turned up. It was a wonderful sight. I missed the movie but my night was more memorable than hers. She had somehow got by me as I drove past from the theatre. We still don’t know how. I then didn’t see her bike on the second check because she had put it in a different place a bit hidden because I had the key for the bike lock.

Moral of the story:
1. Stella rides faster than I thought
2. I ride slower than I thought
3. Even if you try to avoid girls in red shorts its harder than you think
4. Plans are funny things

Movies and mix ups in Alice

Well, the Sydney Film Festival in Alice has come to an end. I so enjoyed immersing myself in some good movies over the last few days.  On Sunday night  I got to see the documentary on the woman who wrote “Forbidden Love” (about an  honour killing of a Muslim woman in Jordan) and was exposed as a fraud. I saw the doco but Keith didn’t. He was riding and driving around looking for me. It was one of those stupid mix ups. The whole thing started with me getting the idea that I would  like to ride my brand new bike into town to see the movie. There is a wonderful pebblecrete bike track that runs through the Larapinta Valley from Simpsons Gap, just near us, to the edge of town. I took off on about a 20km ride with just under an hour to get there. Keith was going to drive in and the plan was that I would meet him there and drive home with him afterwards. I was running just a tad late. Must have been because I was riding into quite a strong easterly wind! He looked for me at the end of the track and along the road between the end of the track and the cultural centre where the movie was showing.  We do not quite know how,  but somehow he missed me. He said he thought I would be running later than I was. I got to the movie a bit late but only missed the introduction talk from the film festival organiser. I rushed in to the theatre assuming Keith had not wanted to be late and had not waited for me. It was dark and the usher lead me to a seat on the edge. It never even occurred to me that because Keith had not seen me he thought I had fallen off my bike on the track and was in terrible trouble. As if that would happen to invincible super bike rider me!! Any way, he drove home and got on his bike to ride the track. He also got Stephanie and her new partner, Greg (who were working in our vegie patch) to wait at the end of the track for me. Meanwhile, I’m sitting happily watching the movie. When the movie finished I’m waiting outside for Keith to emerge. He doesn’t. I had left my mobile at home because it would not have coverage on the bike track. I borrow a friend’s phone to ring him at home. No answer. I see an ambulance rush by and I am just starting to visualise him having had some terrible car accident,  when he turns up and almost sobs with relief to see me alive and in one piece. I feel really, really terrible.  I underestimated his care and protection. He underestimated my super bike riding prowess.  Any way, I feel loved. I also feel guilty. It was a good movie. Although at least it wasn’t “Control”. You must see that movie!

Films, dance and bikes

This weekend Keith and I have seen more films that I saw for the entirity of last year. Yes, the Sydney film festival travels to Alice! The two favourites so far are “Unfinished Sky” and “Control”. Alice has a fantastic cultural centre so we get to import a bit of “culture” from the edges of this land to the centre. And like all good film festivals we even had a Q and A with a director who was very real and very witty. In his film, Elvis the dog gets killed and someone asked a dumb question about why the dog had to die. He immediately quipped with ” I know many people haven’t got over the death of Elvis.” Last week we saw the Bangarra Dance company which was amazing! The other great thing is that last night sitting outside I even had to put a wee cardie . A bit of a cool change came through this weekend after a stinking hot week. What a blessed relief. And soon it will be autumn and I will have survived my first summer in Alice. We both gave ourselves push bikes for Xmas and it has even been cool enough to do a bit of riding out to Simpson Gap. We are struggling with the difficult issue about lending the bikes to our indigenous neighbours. There are big cultural differences around how we treat material possessions. I end up feeling selfish and materialistic when I say “no” but then get hurt when valuable things get damaged or don’t get returned. It’s hard. Our neighbours are fantastic people and it can be hard on both sides showing respect when there are big cultural differences.

good welders wanted

This weekend I decided to bite the bullet and weld new hinges on the gates knocked down by guess who….Browns bloody cows. John our aboriginal neighbour said he would help because he had done a welding course at Centre for Appropriate Technology. Add that experience to mine which was watching my brothers weld. We were ready. We started with enthusiasm getting out this little welder that I had aqcuired because even person living on the land needs a welder to fix gates.

I decided to start while John held the hinge. After twenty minutes the metal post looked more like an aboriginal totem with a dot painting. There were little pock marks about 100 of them each one evidencing another failure. What was worse is I couldnt see through the protective helmet so some of the artistic pock marks were a little too far away from where the hinge was located to suggest it was strategic. It did stretch out the totem effect down the whole pole but it wasnt the best to be overseen by someone who had had tuition and knew the difference between aboriginal art and welding. I did keep John occupied though as he had to stamp out the little fires my art piece had started in his thongs. He reckoned Jim Brown had put a jinx on us so that his cows could get into our place.

John then took over the welding and I held the hinge and immediately things started to look more optimistic with pock marks expanding to pocky streaks. He clearly had the wood on me. After no longer than two hours we had virtually melted two hinges but John had successfully attached both of them to the pole. Indeed the hinges had become much more artistic than normal squarish things; quite deformed and random looking things.

After lunch with new skills and hope in our heart we moved to the second gate. I was feeling now like I could move from pock art to welding so within a jiff I annihalted another hinge but did infact get it to stick. The only problem was as I looked down, my latest fire had got beyond Johns thongs. I marvelled at how well buffle grass burned and jumped from clump to clump. I tried to stop it doing that but it was unimpressed with my intervention. I then recalled a conversation I had with old man Brown the week before that now was looking like pretty relevant advice. Always fight a fire from the back he said never from the front. Whilst I was musing over my new fire knowledge John went for the bucket whilst I was kicking the shit out of buffle clumps. The wind fortunately was blowing the right way so when it got to the drive way my kicking coupled with Johns dousing and no more fuel seemed to do the trick. I was so relieved that I hadnt had to ring old man Brown to bring his fire truck and let him see our welding.

John did the second one now in confidence as there was nothing left to burn. He showed that he was keeping his skill base well ahead of mine by actually doing a weld that seemed to work without completely destroying the hinge. We completed the job feeling pretty happy with ourselves and I must confess a little chastened.

I got up next morning to admire the previous days efforts as I like to do to see the second gate had fallen. One hinge had broken and it was my masterpiece. All of Johns were fine. Never mind got a drill put in a bolt and she was a ripper.

more sorry business

well we all need a go at this one. a truly wonderful day. it feels like a real priveledge to be living in alice on a day like today. we all met around the wednesday campfire tonight and shared our stories of today. there were a number of aboriginal people with their kids tonight which was so fitting. perhaps the highight of today for me has been listening to aboriginal people from all over the place speak of hope and optimism. Thats the first time i’ve experienced that since we’ve been here. So much of what one does here seems so hard because there is so little hope amongst aboriginal people that its hard to move forward. i pray that this hope is something that can be built upon in ways that help aboriginal people to dare to hope for a future for their children. I thank kevin rudd for his courage and genuineness in championing this issue.

My second highlight was the courage of Brendan Nelson. I am aware of the barbs he has received and indeed his speech was patchy and conditional. yet stop for a minute. this man leads a party that only a couple of months ago carried 46% of the nation on the long held position that an apology would be wrong. indeed he personally supported that position (even though a number of others eg Turnbull and Costello). So this man has had to change his position in the most public of ways, he was never going to be the hero today and he has an angry party watching his every word wanting to differentiate itself from a resurgent labour party that holds the high moral ground.

yes he did upset indigenous people but he did take his party to make an historic bipartisan apology the results of which I have seen writ large across aboriginal faces in alice. Thats politics and I think it took guts. indeed he may not survive it.