land of green trees

land of green trees
the desert no more...

Wednesday 28 December 2011

living in the skirts of Mt Wellington

Life can be so full, and so rich, yet I long for more. I am trying to tear my heart from the red dunes, and remind myself over and over how hard life was out there! I am however still blown away with what an incredibly beautiful place Tasmania is. Despite the fact that there are way too many people buzzing around the streets like flies on a dead camel, I am in awe of my surrounds. The stunning convict built sandstone buildings that frame Salamanca Place seem suddenly miniscule as my eye is drawn up onto the beauty of Mount Wellington that looms undeniably behind the city. No matter how city life consumes me in the the trivia  of christmas shopping, it all goes into perspective when I get a glimpse of that Mountain. Our house huddles under its back skirts, and we are blessed with its protection from the worst of the howling winds, yet I can glance up now and admire the soft evening light shining on the dead stags of long ago forest giants, almost but not quite perched on the dolerite rich summit. The Aboriginal name for Mt Wellington is Unghbanyahletta or Poorawetter. Maybe it should be Poorawetterdude...(sorry, couldn't resist). Anyway, we are so lucky to live here, and give thanks to the Aboriginal spirits that still seem to dwell in this land. So, I will try to embrace the fortune that is ours. I dug up 110 garlic yesterday, crisp purple and white bulbs. Planted last April, they came up like buried treasure from the weed bed that is my garden. Two chickens are sitting patiently on clutches of eggs, and Dad who is visiting has made me a worm farm out of a fridge, which I can't wait to deposit some worker worms in. So, I may need to change the name of this story to tassiedwellers instead of desertdwellers, and my children will learn about socialising and hatching chickens rather than dodging rats and eating camels....

Sunday 18 December 2011

open arms

Looks like we only just got out. The rains came 3 days after we left, and poured down, bringing flooded roads and bogged vehicles. We would have been stranded in the desert- last year they were cut off for 4 months, but we are out of it now. It seems so surreal that all our movements depended so solely on nature, and now we agin live by schedules, school runs and traffic lights. Two weeks of travel have brought us back to the endlessly green incredibly steep Tasmania. It feels like someone pushed with all their might against the side of the island and heaved it all up towards the sky. I need to remind myself that we do live on the side of Mount Wellington, and despite the biting cold, can watch the clouds roll across the mountain each sunrise. The people here are as beautiful as ever. We have been welcomed back with open arms, meals, a stocked fridge, kidsitters, cookies, bbq's, a happy dog. Our 'property' was even brushcut for us by some ever giving souls. We are so lucky, to live in utopia, but to also be able to experience another sort of utopia in the Simpson Desert. My heart is full, and yet aches to still live by natures rules...

Tuesday 29 November 2011

photos

oops, I forgot, I put some new photos up at last. I should probably put some disclaimers in but never mind...

a crescent moon

So here we are, all ready to grab our bags of recently acquired cowboy boots and hats and head off out of the sunset!!! I've got to say a big thanks by the way, you helped to keep me sane out here, and linked to the other way of living by knowing that people want to know about us out here. Our last few days of painful packing was eased in a big way by our lovely neighbour taking on babysitting duty all last night and today. Apparently the kids went to sleep at 3:30am last night, then went hard playing again all today. They got back tonight a little deranged and very bleary eyed, but completely in love with their friends. We all threw together some emuburgers and home made sausages, and Shae even brought some lettuce over, which I couldn't stop staring at...it's been a while in between shops and green stuff! So our last night was spent laughing till I cried with our neighbours and the Field Officer, Mo, and trying to rein in the kids very vaguely. Shae and Mo even kicked Al and I out of the house at sunset and we drove off, this time into the sunset, to the dunes. We dodged the 50 or so roos that were around the water trough, then Al called out 'Look behind, it's attacking the car!' 'Uh, what is?' I thought maybe an emu, or a goanna... I craned my neck over the open window to see a snake right below me darting out from under the car into the spinifex. It had a dark head and a red body, and was fired up! 'Jeez you could have told me it was a snake, some warning would have been good! Did it really go for the car?''Yeah, it looked like it went right for it!'  Al pulled up on the next dune, 'the sunsets beautiful, and look at the light in the spinifex.' He was already playing with lenses on his camera. 'Yeah, it's lovely, but I'm not getting out there, it's snakeville.' I stared gloomily at the ground from my window. 'Oh, don't be silly, get out.' I did, and it was beautiful watching our last sunset, and  seeing the soft orange glow bring the true desert beauty into play, and turn the harsh 44 degree day into a world to beautiful to truly comprehend. We stood on the crest of a burnt dune, looking onto waving dry spinifex, but at our feet in the blackened sand were hundreds, no thousands of green shoots. The rain has brought new life, and the cycle will of course go on. On waving goodbye to our neighbours for the last time, they pulled away from the gate, sillhouted by the glowing orange clouds and watched over by a shining white crescent moon. It's time for us to say goodbye and give thanks for being welcomed and watched over in this great landscape. I only hope we will return some day.

Saturday 26 November 2011

Christmas party

So even out here in the desert we found enough people for a little christmas party. The neighbours came over with their kids and the new Field Officer was there. We had an awesome feast  with sunset and starters at Mo's pool, then moved to the house verandah for chicken camp oven roast (went down very well) with my quinoa salad (which was very doubtfully poked by the meat, bread and spuds crew!). This was followed by pavlova and trifle, with copious amounts of alcohol to wash it all down. We all managed to relax together after working our 'rings' off with the fires, and laughed well into the night playing fact or crap card games and telling stories. It was awesome to spend a last good night with the neighbours, who have becom good friends. All the kids slept over, and Zavier was kind enough to give us a 5:30 am start, so we are all a bit bleary eyed today. I am starting to dream of being home among friends, yet my heart is aching a bit. Time for another big pack up and clean...

Tuesday 22 November 2011

we are all connected, and cut off...

Hey thanks to everyone who has been reading our stories, including those people in Brazil, Latvia, Russia, Indonesia, Germany, USA, the UK, Albania and Guyana, and the 500 or so of hits in Australia. It makes the world seem so interlinked when people from all those amazing countries could be reading about our Simpson Desert. We have a week to go but have been rained in. The roads are all currently cut off, we can't get any mail, or of course leave the house paddock. Its cold too. It's dropped from 45 degrees to 25 degrees, and we all had to come inside this morning as we were too cold to stay out! I am wondering how we'll go back in Tasmania. Unfortunately the airstrip is also innaccessible, and Zavier the baby had a bad fall yesterday. It sure made our hearts drop as we knew it was bad and the rain came thundered down, cutting us off from help. His eyes were rolled back in his head and his body shut down momentarily. His cries were gasping. Everything is OK now. Thank goodness we could call the Flying Doctors, who described the effect and said there were no long term effects and he should be fine.

Monday 21 November 2011

bogged to the axles in the dunes

We swagged it that night at the Field River, the kids washed the dust off with a swim in a plunge pool made by the bore water washing into the dry river bed. Then we watched cringing as a storm flashed great bolts of lightning in the distance, but then breathed in some relief as the rain came with it, putting out any fires. We spent a soggy but beautiful night under the coolibahs, then packed up camp to head home. 80 or 100 dunes later we were again heading North up through Carlo Station. All was going so well. We had a young camel in two pieces strapped to the back of the ute, hopefully not dripping onto the portacot, and our spirits were high as we were heading home. Thats when we saw the water. The road had long muddy pools on it. Al gunned it as we were already in it, and careened around the road, the tyres sucking up the mud as we slid. We tried up on the bank, which was good for a bit, until we heard the radio call, 'come back'. We were travelling with two work colleagues, and they were stuck. On trying to get back to them, we bogged up to the axles. Two cars stuck, middle of nowhere, hours from anywhere, more rain on the way, 3 small kids. At least we had meat! Also it wasn't hot that day, probably only about 35 degrees, as opposed to the 45 degrees it has been. We spent nearly four hours getting out. I was starting to twitch, thats for sure. Two winches broke, one was patched together enough to drag us out with the sides of the tray under the wheels. The car was jacked up onto these and dug out first. Finally we were out, and I spent the next kilometre racing back out of it with my heart in my mouth. I just wanted my kids out of it! We got there though and drove back only two more hours back home, stopping for some very welcome beers at our neighbours place on the way back. Just a week or so left and we'll be leaving to head home to lovely cold Tasmania. Sometimes I can't wait!

Go west...

We decided to make the most of a window between fires, and storms, to rediscover our Western boundary. Cravens Peak and Ethabuka adjoin the Northern Territory on both of their Western borders, so we were able to skirt the neighbouring property in the middle and drop back into Ethabuka. We cut out West a few hours through the incredible Painted Gorge with petroglyphs aplenty, then South another few hours travelling in the Territory. On the way we drove through the burnt areas, Cravens Peak has about 80% burnt, and Ethabuka probably has about 70% burnt. Thats around 900 000 acres of the properties we manage that have burnt! Its been declared a disaster zone so hopefully Bush Heritage will be able to recoup some of its costs from fighting them. Where a few mm of rain had fallen was incredible, green shoots spred a lawn across the blackened earth. Seeds from the trees are lying in chaotic piles, some scorched black from the heat, but others looked good, having all cracked open from the heat and are lying waiting for moisture. We ended up at an amazing swamp with coolibahs poking out through the still expanse of water, the sounds of water birds in the distance was amazing. There were storm clouds brewing though so we didn't linger, as we would never have gotten out of there with wet ground. Hundreds of kilometres of dunefields lay to the west of us, and there were more to the East, and South, and a few North also. The riverline that we followed to our campsite was dry, but edged with red gums, coolibahs and desert poplars. at one point we drove through a thicket of a tall, spindly plants with a delicate purple flower. It was so tall it hung right over the roof of the car, and went on for a few hundred metres, before disappearing into the endless spinifex.

Monday 14 November 2011

Swim camp

Swim camp was great, lots of work in the kitchen and kid juggling, but Asha loved it. She even got to play the fairy godmother in the finale! Working and mixing with the other station women and teachers was a privilege, especially in talking to them about raising kids out here. I asked one lovely woman if she preferred being here or in the Kimberleys where she was stationed previously. 'Oh The Kimberleys she said without hesitation. It's way too suburban here!'  Granted, she lives on a property only half an hour from town, but the town consists of about 100 people, and she backs on to an expanse of millions of uninterrupted dunefields!
We probably seemed like we came in from the sticks. A 2.5 hour drive got us there, we didn't get bogged, and Al shot an enormous pig on the way. The last night in Bedourie was a good night but messy. We all needed a wind down after the camp and especially the fires. Despite my claim of not wanting to shame myself and starting the night drinking only xxxxgold! (Don't tell anyone from Adelaide), it soon deteriorated.  The night continued with copious amounts of vodka, country music, big hats and great yarns. Unfortunately the next morning was very shameful, and we all limped the hours home, only to see great plumes of smoke yet again. Al pulled an all nighter that night, and none of us got much sleep the next 2 nights. Fire has ripped through cravens peak now on the eastern side. coming too close to the house. The sky was aglow with red that night. the kids were asking me what the red was outside their window as they were going to sleep. 'Umm, its fire kids" I had to say. I finally got onto Al on the satellite phone, he was somewhere out there and the fire looked very close. He was stuck the other side of the fires and couldn't get through, the car was overheating and he'd done a shock absorber. I had a tantrum and packed woollen clothes in a bag, just in case... alls good now though, and Al is having a day off at long last. School goes on regardless though, so back to it!

Sunday 6 November 2011

I spoke way too soon...

So our bags were packed, portacot was in, cars were fueled up, and kids had big smiles on their faces ready to go to the swim camp in Bedourie when we saw the smoke. 'No way! we were so close to making it out!' We drove up to the neighbours, on whose property the fire currently is, and who were also driving to the camp with us, worked out that there was no way we could go. Then drove home and piled out of the car again. 'Sorry kids theres more fires'. Al has disappeared off into the smoke again, to be seen again hopefully unsinged who know when. The kids and I and our neighbours will try in the morning to head to town. The clouds are building again though so maybe it will rain and put the fire out. Maybe then the rivers will be up too high to cross to go to town...These fires are a lot closer to both our houses, and in areas of high fuel loads, so this time we are all praying for rain.

Emu hamburgers

A poor emu got its leg stuck in a fence and broke it the other day. Al dispatched it and brought it home in pieces. We minced it up today (you should have seen the drumstick). Pulling off the odd feather brought back memories of a rooster cull in Tasy... They were yummy hamburgers and supposedly very lean, high in protein and iron, so all good. It would be easy to grab another, but they are too lovely, and native for that matter. All you have to do if you do ever want to get near one (to take a photo maybe), when you spot an emu, is run around for a moment then fall on to your back, waving your arms and legs in the air as much as you can. I like to add the odd stick up of a leg or head to keep them interested. Being curious creatures, they'll saunter up as a group, heads outstretched, trying to work out what on earth is going on. They can get really close, until their strong legs look a bit too close for comfort anyway.

Wet storms after cup day

Before cup day come the dry storms, then you get the bad fires. After cup day come the wet storms, the fires burn hot, but go out with the rain. This has proven true to the day for us. Fires were massacring Ethabuka, shooting flames up 100m in the air and turning forests to red dust. Then came Melbourne Cup day, the fires subsided, and everyone went home. The next big storm (all the fires have been started by lightning strikes), hit us fast and hard. We were so exhausted we couldn't even contemplate more fire, but true to form, this storm brought rain with it. The sky was ablaze with lightning, thuder roared and crackled, reclaiming this space as it's own. Living creatures crouched down and trembled, we watched transfixed. Well, Al watched, I have a problem with lightning, I am fascinated by it and can't look away, but am just ready to dodge it if it hits. I can't help it, but if I'm in the open I can't seem to keep my feet still and dart around like Golem. So the rain turned the dust to mud, put out the fires the lightning started and turned our roads to mush. If there is any more rain tonight we won't be able to get to the week long swim camp in town tomorrow, or anything else for a while either...hmm how much food do we have here?

a gentle breeze

Out to the East is a spectacular apricot pink thunder cloud, stretching across the gibber plain and glowing in the last of the suns rays. Above me as I swing gently in the hammock is a big bright white moon, instantly silhouetting two ducks flying by. As I crane my neck behind me, past the vivid red flame tree bursting with flower, the orange orb of a sun has its last glance at the desert as it slips behind the horizon. It's a moment in life that I was discussing with a beautiful friend just the other day. Amidst the fire, carnage, heat and outrageous hours we have all been working out here, comes a moment in life, so special that you wouldn't give it up for the world. Just like parenthood. Despite the mountain of dishes, the awaiting schoolwork, the endless chases after a toddler, there comes just one moment of "we built a flying plane submarine that is going to a magic land where we are going to science the snakes". That is enough to remind me that despite all the crap that makes me cry, I wouldn't give it up, any of it, for anything. I just glanced up to see a black shouldered kite hovering in the slate grey blue sky, quivering its wings frantically to hold itself in place as it held its prey in its gaze. Diving down. it swooped, but missed, then wheeled around, off to bed for the night, to make way for the owls and nightjars which will soon be out.

Sunday 30 October 2011

what happened to the smallest goanna in the world?

Well, here I am, sitting alone in a house (with 3 small children) in far Western Queensland. Dust storm blowing up a gale outside, lightning strikes predicted, all the fire crews down at Ethabuka, hours away...The fires were contained on Cravens yesterday, and we were all heading off to camp the night at a perrenial waterhole on Ethabuka, for a meeting. Happy to be out of the house and with the promise of checking pitfall traps and fish traps, the kids dusted off their bathers and excitedly piled in the car. A 4 car convoy led us over many, many dunes, until arriving finally at the ratcatcher camp (otherwise known as esteemed scientists.) They were able to display the smallest goanna in the world to the kids, which looked much like an Aboriginal painting it was so decorated and beautiful. We then approached the house, where we needed to check on a small fire approaching from the South. The small fire was by now a horizon filled with smokestacks, piled up in great mushroom clouds bursting with explosive heat. The kids and I just as rapidly got back in the car, and got the *#*##*#* out of there. 'Sorry kids, now we have to travel over 50 or so sand dunes and a couple more hours back again....this time mostly airborne'. So the fire now has raced with massive gusts past the homestead down there, no-one is hurt, but many many many hectares of just recovering arid zone are now torched. It's fast approaching the neighbours, after cutting a clear swathe through the property. At times like this, in this weather, all people can do is stand and stare as it goes past, and feel as insignificant in this landscape as we truly are....

Thursday 27 October 2011

crispy kangaroos

Alright I'll through some stats at you, just 'cos everyone loves them?

Our neighbours to the North have lost about 250000 acres, to the West have lost nearly 1 million, the property to their west lost over 1 million acres. Our neighbours to the South have lost most of their back paddock, which is about 300 000 acres in total. The entire Simpson desert National park in Qld bordering Ethabuka has been burnt. There are currently fires alight on Cravens Peak burning the NW section. Crews were out all through last night backburning. It hasn't come too close to our homestead yet luckily, and hopefully there won't be more lightning strikes....Tasmania's looking pretty good right now!

wasp faces and sand lessons

'Did you know that wasps have such scary faces and legs because they lived a long time ago with the dinosaurs? I know 'cos Asha told me so.' This is words of wisdom from Clay this morning in our school lesson. He is coming along in leaps and bounds as he sits alongside Asha in our school lessons. He has really picked up on the reptiles here. His attention span is probably typical for a 4 year old, but he will sit and study the reptile ID book for ages, entranced with working out which snakes live in 'our' desert. Quite often there is a photo of a reptile which was taken on one of the reserves here. We did school this morning up on the dunes. We spotted a sandy goanna on the way and Clay and I got close enough to touch it. He was so excited to see it wiggle as it ran away. Up on the dune we looked at different patterns, the dunes in the distance, wind ripples on the sand. Then Asha proudly spotted a snake track, moving right across in front of us. Luckily the kids learnt how to tell if it had moved through before or after us, and it was before. We checked out some cool bugs and rocks with a magnifying glass, picked some flowers for the new Field officer arriving today, then went back to the car as we were all starting to sweat. It was about 9am, and too hot to enjoy being outside. We then went back to the house and made posters of what we'd seen. Don't get stars in your eyes though, most of my days for the last month have been very long and in 4 walls as Al has been out chasing fires...and they're still burning....

Monday 17 October 2011

lightning strkes and flat tyres

Al had just gotten back from a long stint at Ethabuka battling the fires when lightning again struck, this time at Cravens Peak where our homestead is. The storms were awesome, we both jumped out of bed at two in the morning at the lightning crack that sounded as if it was on our doorstep. Checking the internet the next morning, fires covered the properties surrounding us plus our own. It's all been on since then, trying to fit school in around the constant phone calls, radio calls, e-mails and internet checks has been mad, besides feeding extra people who have come to help. Luckily for us, (not for her) lovely Helen has been visiting. The kids and I picked her up last week. There was a dust storm blowing so luckily we decided to stay in town the night. The next day found us hours from anywhere when a tyre blew. Not just flat, but ripped to shreds. I managed to pull over in one piece but was a bit shaken. We found the jack, but nearly shed a few tears when a bolt snapped off the wheel. I tried to radio out but couldn't raise anyone. I had no satellite phone on me as they were in use for the fires. We hadn't seen a car. It was hot too, and all the kids were starting to whinge. A night in shining armour appeared in a fuel truck. I jumped in front of him and begged for help. Didn't take much luckily. Much to my feminist disgrace, he helped enormously, and told me I could drive without a wheel nut. More disgrace and potential disaster to come when the car fell off the jack, missing my head my millimetres. I started shaking a bit then! Finally we got back on the road and limped the couple of hours home. The fuel truck was incredibly coming to refuel our station (10000L of diesel), so I knew he'd come back through eventually which eased our minds a bit. Tail between my legs, we eventually arrived home to give him a carton of beer and much gratitude!

Sunday 2 October 2011

a peaceful night camping...

At what point should you be concerned that dingoes are going to eat your babies? I'm not sure, but I was fighting sleep listening for them the other night as we were camping on the western side of the property. Zave was in a portacot, but I ended pulling him in to my swag with the excuse that he was cold, but I secretly didn't want anything to snatch him. Then I woke again later hearing a whoop whoop whoop, getting louder. What the hell? Theres no way it could have been a vehicle, was it a mad wind aproaching, a whirly whirly? We were camped on the outside edge of a big gorge that is engraved everywhere in petroglyphs which are ancient aboriginal rock carvings, caves and tool remains. We were going to stay closer to the gorge, but it didn't feel right. As we pulled up into it the day before after some mad 4WDing, a barn owl swooped up out of the rocks in front of us. We figured we should leave the spirits in peace and camped further down in an old creek bed. So was this noise from old Aboriginal spirits awakening. I actually remember thinking that this was more feasible than a vehicle out here. I sat bolt upright and bravely called out for Al to wake up. Sound asleep, he didn't stir. Finally, I realised the noise was moving beyond me, and craned my head up to the myriad of stars above, to see a tiny light flashing across the sky. God, its a plane! I felt like I was from 'The Gods must be crazy' movie. Still, it was just so silent there that the noise of the plane made this weird vacuum like whoop through the air. I woke up a bit bleary eyed the next morning...

fire... or floods

The fire that was threatening has all but gone out. After a long couple of weeks, we can relax until the next lightening strike. Now there is actually rain forecast, should we start thinking about being flooded in? It can happen any time, earlier in the year managers were stranded here for 3 months...

blood on my boots

We had a good trip down to Ethabuka last week. We were a bit stressed about the bushfires and were heading down to the other property we look after to clean it up a bit in case the fire hit. Soon after we left our homestead 2 feral cats ran across the track in front of us. They didn't run much further! As they were shot with a camel gun, it was easy to see what was inside one of them, small lizards a bird and 2 rats. Thats all by 7:30 in the morning! It felt good protecting the thousands of native animals these cats and their offspring would have consumed in their lives. Two hours later we were nearing Ethabuka homestead when we spotted camel tracks, these soon led to 7 majestic beasts in the gidgee forest. It's always a bit sad getting rid of these proud creatures, but again, very good for our land. We also took the time to cut some meat out of them, massive slabs of backstrap were loaded onto the back of the ute. Karma got me later though as I was trimming off the plentiful fat from the meat, the knife slipped and I sliced my thumb to the bone. On reaching the Ethabuka house a rabbit ran out, soon to end his life also. Al picked up the rabbit and we talked about saving the meat, then we compared it to the massive slabs of camel in the back and realised it probably wasn't worth our while.

Friday 23 September 2011

Fire in the Simpson

It looks like theres a fire approaching from the South West. It's shaped like an enourmous red cross bow, stretching almost the entire width of the Simpson Desert, with the arrow lined up straight for us. The NAFI site on the internet will show you the fire site, which appears to have burnt more than a third of the Simpson Desert already. The fuel load is so high after all the rains, that it's unlikely to stop by itself. Ethabuka will get hit first, it's currently about 70 kms away. We've got a grader going in to make earth breaks around the borders and through the middle. 80 percent of the property was burnt out just before we got there last time, and it sure would be nice to not incinerate the remaining 20% which hasn't been burnt for a lot longer, and is Channel Country vegetation, which is very important in terms of its conservation values. Not that the dunefields aren't. They carry one of the highest diversities of reptile diversity in the world, not to mention all the small cute and cuddly species which still manage to exist out here. The dunefields are currently looking stunning, and it's hard to imagine them returning to the red wastefield with blackened stumps that they were 8 years ago. Cravens Peak would be next to burn, which doesn't bear thinking about. It doesn't make me feel so good either, being so remote with the kids and such a big fire eating it's way towards us. I do keep imagining the enormous wave of rats running in front of the flames! But really, they would probably go to ground, and the wave will really be full of camels. Al should stand out there on the border with his shotgun....

Tuesday 20 September 2011

Home Schooling

Yesterday Asha and Clay made a 1m patch outside where she could guage change in the patch over time. It was marked out with string and ice-cream sticks, and Asha spent some time choosing where she should put it, depending on which flowers were in it, where ant trails were, or amongst some quartz rocks. she eventually decided on a sandy patch with white glittery pebbles, because then she could check out the tracks in the sand the next day. She carefully swept it smooth, then Clay had a go, then she did it all over again and stood up the sticks again. Next morning she raced out as soon as she was up to check on it. Very excited, she ran in to tell us that were kangaroo tracks and a track that she thought was a wild pig! It was in the house yard, so we would have been surprised, but Al went outside and told her it was a baby camel track, which wasn't very helpful but did keep her enthusiasm going. Luckily we did see some camel tracks later that morning so could show her what they really looked like. They have seen them in the flesh also, Al took them out  from Ethabuka a week or two ago and they came across a small herd. The kids came back to the house and told me all about how Dada had shot the camels and cut them up. They decided not to eat them that night though.  We bought them both bikes in Mt Isa, and they are so proud of them. Their parents were very stingy and bought them a bit too big, but they've figured them out and perch up on them very proudly, shooting off on our morning walk towards the dunes, Clay with his head bent right down low, going as fast as his legs can possibly go. Zave with his head craned around the backpack, trying desperately to keep his eyes on his big brother and sister who have disapeared into the red horizon.

Back after a trip down South

Back 'home' again after a whirlwind trip back to Tasy. My head is still spinning from it, but it was incredible to get a good dose of Tasy magic to keep our spirits high. Thanks so much to everyone who helped, housed and supported us in order to enable Al's book to be launched amongst the beautiful community that it deserved. What would we do without you all......
I know you don't need more rat stories, but think of it as therapy for me.....I arrived back home to some barely alive seedlings, which I carried out of the bath tub reverently. Outside, I turned on the hose to give it a soak, the water burst up in every direction, the rats had eaten the hose! Throwing it aside, I nudged the watering can, it still had water in it judging from the weight. I heaved it up and poured it onto the seedlings. Big chunks of hair fell from the top as a horrible thick brown liquid squeezed from the end nozzle. I dropped it and ran, but as the smell was enough to make my head spin.  I knew I had to deal with it. Tipping it out behind the back fence, it gave a whole new meaning to liquid fertilizer. 1, 2, 3 then on a lot of nudging, 4 rats fell out, in various stages of decomposition. My stomach is pretty strong, (except in pregnancy!) but I was bent over head in the bushes 3 times after that. Alright, that is it I promise, no more rat stories. They are on their way out now anyway, they have virtually gone from properties to the South, and are finished at Bedourie (our closest town.) Our turn must be next.... The air is smoky here from massive bushfires to the North (might need Mat to build us a bunker...), the animal numbers are dropping a bit as the heat increases. It is still beautiful though, and I am looking forward to seeing a bit more red soil.

Monday 29 August 2011

Rats

So the other night Al whispered through the window to come outside. I jumped up from bed with a last longing stare at my book, and raced outside. Walking over to him, he pointed out a barn owl up in the tree in the yard. It was enormous, and so regal as it stared down at us. Unflinching it stretched out its wings and glanced around on the ground for its next easy feed. A blur of white it glided away out of sight and we walked together to look up at the stars. They stretched endlessly across the sky, instantly putting us back in our place as tiny humans. I stared in awe, then remembered I was in bare feet. 'I feel like the rats are going to nibble on my toes,' I said to Al. 'Nah, theres none about.' He replied confidently. He swung the torch around. At every beam of light, in every direction, there were multiple dark scurrying shapes across the lawn, some within a metre from us. I bravely jumped up on Als feet, stared around, then bolted for the door, slamming it firmly closed behind me. I thought about locking it, but made myself stop. Al was still out there after all!

We decided to get a trap going, we have caught over 150 in 3 nights trapping. We were going camping this week but then I remembered the rats, and thought about the kids in swags....Bugger that.

Monday 22 August 2011

The Rodeo

Boulia Rodeo was in town, and we couldn't resist doing the slog back into town for it. It was an awesome drive though. We were stoked to see 60 - 100 brolgas with a few babies thrown in, feeding in the cracked earth grassland, along with some wild pigs (bugger!), and a fierce snake which I still see when I shut my eyes... Despite the rodeo being a lot quieter than when we went a few years ago, it was still awesome. Those men and woman (she appeared to get ribs broken after being stamped on), were incredible in their courage or stupidity, (I'm not sure which.) Big hats were the go and the cowboys did wear all the gear, fringed pants, spurs, waistcoats. The bulls were massive, I don't know how people weren't killed. One big black bull threw off its charge like a fly, then turned to charge the steel fence where I was standing . Not once but three times he rammed the fence. I was hoping they had put it up well, so was Zavier. The kids were watching goggle eyed from up top on the stand, where they could see the Bulls being loaded and the cowboys perched on them as they were released. 

The drive home was good as we pulled in to a couple of stations to say hello. From one we found our mail bag which hadn't quite made it out to us. The other had 3 kids the same ages as ours. At both places we've been to with kids, they are so excited. The kids race out the door waving to us furiously and come right up to the car, bouncing around until our kids get out. Kids are like gold around here, and they sure are a good excuse to meet people in the area. The women seem to have the same issues as back home, never enough time in the day, always want better for their kids, tantrums.... but thrown into that is homeschooling. Not a couple of hours a day out here, but the curriculum is set, it makes for a normal length day. If they don't have the set work back after a fortnight, they get 2 or 3 calls, then are expelled. It's a serious enterprise, if people are lucky they can afford a governess. 'What do you do?' said one woman, 'it makes you cry but you've just got to do it, it's your kids.' Then they have to help run stations, just the food itself is massive. Killing your own meat makes for a huge job of cutting it up, freezing it, hanging it. All food has to be sorted through every few days, fruit and veg must be individually rewrapped in paper  every few days or week. Dry goods are all in bulk and must be stored away from rodents and the heat. We did a $1000 shop before we got here. That was just dry goods, no fruit or veg or meat. Everything gets caked in dust, so to keep a clean house is a slog. Before going anywhere, you need to refuel on the property, check air pressure in the tyres, check radios, get the satellite phone. The vehicles all have emergency gear on them, including water. There aren't second chances out here. People don't drive past. Everyone has to be prepared to get themselves out of trouble. On that note, the sun is still shining and I haven't seen a cloud for a week.

Sunday 21 August 2011

Coolabah Wetland

Theres a Coolabah billabong down the road a bit that forms a welcome patch of water for local animals and humans alike. It's nestled into the side of a dune and is stunning not for its beauty, but for its wildlife. Great flocks of flock pigeons swirled in great figure eights, swooping into the water for a brief mouthful before swooping up again, tantalisingly out of reach to the black kites, brown falcons, whistling kites and black shouldered kites that all followed the birds around their dance. Many more species of water bird swam happily on the water, while the sandy edges abounded in emu, camel and roo tracks. The kids had a ball having a treasure hunt to find their morning tea in the gidgee trees, and Al and I fossicked around under the coolibahs for the numerous owl roosts. It was a graveyard under there, with rat carsasses aplenty, lorikeet wings and pellets abounding. I got leave to walk back, and blissed out at all the flowers along the way. Dreaming, I heard a tsss next to me. Being cool calm and collected, I jumped a metre in the air and spun around, expecting to see a taipan. Instead, it was an awesome Bearded Dragon, hissing with mouth wide and body flattened and raised toward me to ensure I knew how scary it was!

Wednesday 17 August 2011

We made it...

G'day. I thought this might be the simplest way to share some of our journey with our much loved friends and family down South (and East), oh, and way up North somewhere in Guyana. After having only three weeks notice, we packed up our lives and kids and took off back to the Simpson Desert. Our journey began by flying out of beautiful Tasy last Wednesday. Three long flights later we landed in the land of rum and sugar cane, Bundaberg. The kids did as well as could be expected, I only nearly cried once. Luckily at this time I checked my voice mail only to get a much needed pep talk from lovely Bec which got me through the last few hours. To cut a long story short, four and a half days of travel later, soaking in dinosaur footprints, a very anglocised Stockmans Hall of Fame, endless train carriages of coal and not enough vodka later, we found ourselves again on the desert roads. As the size of peoples hats increased, so did the horizon. Layers felt like they were dropping away as we left the last town, Boulia. I felt a huge sense of homecoming but also one of dread. My head said stay and my heart said pack up your family and get the hell out of here as fast as you can...  We persevered. Brolgas and bustards were plentiful, as were big roos, emus and the ubiquitous black kites, soaring in great numbers overhead as if they were Australias answer to the vulture. Close to three hours out from town we finally entered Cravens Peak. The floods had come earlier in the year, and the cattle had been off for 4 or 5 years. The land was gleaming. Spinifex seed heads rose in proud stacks to the endless blue skies. Wildlife was abundant and the last of the flowers splashed purple yellow and white against not red sand but green vegetation!. Pulling into the homestead, I could hardly look, but besides the rat plague it was in good order. (The Boulia shop trapped 80 in 2 nights in a 44 gallon drum. They kept the lights on low so you wouldn't see the chewed food packaging! The house was comfy enough, everything we really needed, the kids so happy to be somewhere they could make their home for a bit. Al turned the generator on (the RAPS solar system is out of order), and everything worked. A mad unpack turned into a grateful vodka and tears and tantrums turned to laughter (and that was just me!) A few thoughts did go through my head...'a simple life, this is what I was striving for in Tasy, no waste, nothing unnecessary, our family living simply, cleanly, happily. I could do this for longer, get a goat, some chooks...' but then came 'what the hell am I doing here again? How did this happen?'
The following day I threw some vegie seeds around (can't help myself...), and we took off for a few hours to check out a minute fraction of the property. Managing 1 million acres will take a bit of time. The kids screams of excitement rang out across the dunes and swailes as we roared over the dune crests. Zavier was only happy when he was driving! The spinifex was as tall as the car roof in places. This was a degraded red dust cattle paddock the last time we were here. The lanscape was stunning. Words would struggle to capture the freedom and joy we felt there. Coolibahs gleamed white in graceful arches, black shouldered kites danced overhead, and 'look kids at this Crotalaria flower, I wish I could send some of the bulging seedheads back to Paulette...draw a picture in the sand, feel it sift away the long journey between your toes....'
The reality check came the next day, I spent the arvo scrubbing rat piss and crap off the floors of the house, after the rains come the rodents, and the snakes..... Zavier had a bad allergic reaction to yoghurt, thank god I remembered the antihistimine. We are a long way from help...wheres doctor Dave?
Love ya
us