Stories for Children by Paul Audcent - HTML preview

A Week in the life of a layabout Kiwi Pom in Tassie.

Mon. I went to visit the plants and talked them into growing a bit faster even though the frost was -4 C. Ranger (Julie's dog who lives over here - the bones are fresher), refused to follow me out,  preferring the sunshine slicing through the lounge window. He might go and visit Julie today, then again he might just wait for lunch.  Checked my e-mail alas none except the internet bill....

Tues. Lovely morning, Ranger hasn't moved towards Julie's yet. Read a book, then went to the woodland to fetch wood (fallen) for the fire. Chainsawed an old gnarled tree in danger of falling over (which it did after I had sawn it through). There was a possum in it at the time, unhurt except for his feelings. Went to shed and made said possum a little box and hoisted it up a large tree. Possum still not inclined to leave his old tree. Ranger arrived and Possum moved to its new abode fast.

Wed. Took car and trailer down to woodland edge and bought back some of the tree to the house to chop up.  Left it to dry in the sun then went shopping. Came back it was raining, wood had a lovely wash, all it lacked was a good shampoo and set. Went on the net to surf, ended up on a dry beach, think I'll read a book instead cos' it has chapters and page numbers and things.

Thurs. Julie arrived with children, Andrew sits watching a video, We forget to pick Rangers water bowl up. Water has a magnetic affect on Jacob, Julie dries him then she nips on the computer to write a story, Jacob is soon asleep to the sounds of her fingers on the keyboard. Andrew follows me to the shed where I have a bit of carpentry to do. He sights the power tools with an appraising eye but the danger passes when grandpa hands him a hammer instead. After belting in four nails he goes back to Mum with a satisfied air, first dutifully closing the shed door and bolts it. Grandpa is still inside. Grandpa manages to open the double rear doors and squeeze his hand to reach that bolt. Houdini rides again. Ranger meanwhile is having a suck on my bed sheet. He only ever does it when Julie and I are together so it must be his contented 'suck a thumb'. Julie is now away to get husbands tea.  I dry the bed sheet out, take Ranger for his evening walk. Now what’s on the TV?

Frid. Popped over to neighbour Geoff, he and I are re-erecting the TV aerials to try to get a better picture. There's a tall tree just opposite the house and Geoff brings his 30 metre ladder. He volunteers to put it up the top after I climbed twelve steps and said 'how about halfway up'. Eventually both aerials are in place, starts to drizzle and with it the wind, glad I'm holding the foot of the ladder. At last turn on the TV and YES the picture is much better. Ladder comes down, cup of coffee and congratulations. Overnight, we being in the Roaring Forties, the wind blew - sweeping one aerial around to point at nothing in particular.

Sat. Geoff brought his ladder over and scaled the dizzy heights. This time we drilled and bolted the thing through the mast then did the same with the mast into the tree - hasn't moved again, though they better not move the transmitter.   Went to a nursery and bought two trees. Sycamores, to remind me of the UK.  We had a small Sycamore at Corazon growing on top of a garden wall,  so if they can survive that then, my Tassie soil will be a synch.  Turned the compost heap and found real worms in it. Sat in the sun on the new deck and smelt the sweet fragrance of a newly turned compost heap.

Sun. Aptly named as the sun blazed down, and still winter!  But the ground was covered in a hard frost and the lake had ice all over it. Down to the forest where no frost ever goes, and pick up kindling branches that fell whilst the aerial was swinging in the wind. Checking on the tree plantation to find that the pesky  possums and wallabies,   have a taste for newly planted exotic trees. So I have to buy PVC bags and protect the 140 Radiata Pines that are left. Its a never ending battle. I had also planted out two blocks of native blackwoods and surrounded them with marlin strength fishing line three strands high, the next morning one line was broken so they had a try, and nibbled twelve seedlings.   BUT they obviously got a bit of a shock at being tripped up and to date the rest of the seedlings remain unmolested. The forestry commission seriously suggested installing electric fencing used for cattle! The local nursery said possums being highly intelligent would roll under them or jump them, so my fishing line which is hard to see was the best proposition and the cheapest. Problem is I keep having to pick myself up when I'm out there.  Sunday is when Simon calls me from the great city of enterprise, to check that his Dad is, a) not contemplating marriage, b) is still alive and eating, c) is he working or not, or just loafing, and d) have I fallen off the ride-on mower again.  Well its 'not' at present and loafing is the operative word, but something could come up early next year so I'm told.   The problem is I could easily get used to this way of living!

PS. No I don't keep a diary, I found this page alone took too much time to write and anyway there was a gardening program to watch that evening on TV! It was a one off (the diary page I mean!)

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  Goodnight, sleep well.