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Imperial spanners

sunny 36 °C

This week promises a fiery assault from the skies – temperatures around 38, 39 – and so we are up and at work early, raking out the chickens' pens. A light Suffolk hen is spread like a pancake over her egg; she barely moves when we take off the top of her special laying hutch. All her focus is on the egg.

Getting Rural

Getting Rural

By 9am the heat scorches our backs as we tear grass and weeds from a vegetable patch. After a few hours Alan literally hoses us down, spraying us with cold water from head to toe – it feels amazing.

We stop when the heat gets too much. The wind feels like a furnace blast and we retreat indoors. I write; Rich programs. Alan mentions runes in passing, and ends up getting a Tarot card reading from me when he discovers I can read them. I realise I feel no desire to delve for myself – there's an ease about the present, and any worries I have I feel capable of tackling without additional help. Out of curiosity I do a quick past-present-future spread, and smile at the Tower in my past, and the Ten of Cups in my present...

A small aside here. Admittedly I've travelled less in the UK now than I have in Australia, but I've been a bit surprised by how common belief in Tarot cards, runes, astrology, crystals, etc is in Oz. People veer suddenly from talking about tracking wild pigs and the workings of four-wheel drives to strange dreams and 'chem-trails'. A lot of what can be a useful way of talking to yourself (personally I think Tarot is more about separating out aspects of your mind and discovering what you think – and anticipating the future your present thoughts direct – than communicating with anything mystical), and a lot of stuff that makes me think, 'riiiiight'.

Al gets us helping with some DIY. I feel monumentally useless - perhaps ornamentally useless - as I examine metric vs imperial spanners. 'Imperial spanner' would make a good insult, I think (perhaps, because I'm a pom - a Prisoner of Mother England - I count as one). It's hard to remember that you have a different world to this one of things you don't understand - tools and trees, considerations about seasons, vehicle parts, batteries, some practical arrangement of the immediate that makes things easier. I'm not useless, I want to say. My world is words and gradients.

The weekend involved little more strenuous than cutting up the soap and baking sourdough bread – and enjoying 'beer o'clock' at 5. Life is tough!

Posted by wanderingwolf 03:20 Archived in Australia Tagged australia working

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