bilateral kellerberrin

I dream i go to meet peter mudie at the kerb. It’s a cafe serving all day breakfasts. Bromfield is there, waiting tables. He’s busy with a customer, but peter shouts out “eggs, we’re having eggs!”. To save labour, there is a conveyor belt instead of a busboy, taking dirty dishes to a girl near the kitchen, who unloads them into a sink. I ask her if she doesnt get tired standing still all day, but it seems she prefers it that way. The eggs are grey and rubbery.

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last night seems like a dream too, for the first time we had a lot of visitors to the craft barn. Jeff came over, i think he and cristina had arranged to go to the pub but they didnt get it together in time. Jeff brought louis and jason. Louis wouldnt sit down, he said he’d been sitting down all day. Doing what? we asked. Oh you know, just drinkin. They were nice guys and we all chatted and joked for a while. Turns out jeff went to school with roger (must have been a few years younger) – although roger didnt look all that pleased to see him – to tell the truth, he looked uncomfortable. And i wasnt particularly easy either, an unexpected visit from folks you know nothing about. But then, that’s exactly what WE have been inflicting on people ever since we got here! And no harm done, there were lots of jokes about people’s ages, brought on by the fact that jeff couldnt believe that people “our age” were into drinking wine. So cristina convinced him she was forty, had a 14 year old daughter, who roger had kissed when he was in south america last year.

We had a near-tag-team with selina and karlie(?) and another girlfriend of theirs banging on the door, wanting to know what was going on. We invited them in, and shortly after josephine arrived too. Josephine was embarrassed, and wanted to make sure everything was ok. She kept telling the others to quiet down and show respect. They were a bit rowdy, especially selina, but nothing serious. I cooked up some pasta with tomato and the leftovers of the john dory from the barbecue at kokerbin, and a few of them joined us for dinner. Roger had to go, and he gave selina a lift. Everyone else drifted off soon after, and cristina washed the dishes.

On thursday morning i planted my beans and chinese vegetable near the back fence. I got some potting mix from the co-op and turned it through the builder’s sand that had been used to fill the garden beds. I shoveled in the rotting remains of kirsten’s compost beginnings, and evicted a shitload of snails. My garden has begun.

There were a lot of things to do before cristina and i made it to cunderdin. For a start i wanted to get my garden up and running. Then we had to check our tubes for the code and tell the tyre man what they were so he could order in thornless replacements for us. I had to buy a toothbrush and some biotene, a prepaid top up for the iaska phone, and cruise the op shop. I bumped into jo at the book exchange. I really like this space, it has a row of shelves on one wall only, and then overflow junk from the op shop on the other wall. Apart from that, it’s empty. Jo told me stories about the milk man giving her and her sister lifts part of the three miles they had to walk towards school in yorkshire. If they were nt there precisely on time, the milkman would carry on his way. He was like a milky clock. Jo reads thrillers. We had a laugh about one of her customers who consumes half a dozen mills and boon a week. In order to not get confused about which one’s she’s read, this customer puts her own special mark on the back of each book. I found a slim book called “the thirty nine steps” which i liked the sound of, and i had a vague notion it was important. Jo said the movie version was brilliant, the main actor had a resonant voice which penetrated to every corner of the cinema. Although it had ‘thriller’ listed on the back, “the thirty nine steps” was shelved under ‘classics’…

neville, the director of kellerberrin tyre service, said he could get those tubes in for us by saturday morning.

At the op shop i bought vern wright’s beautiful kellerberrin volunteer fire brigade suit. It fits me like a glove, and is lovingly tailored in thick flame retardant wool. One of the op shop ladies said she would look into getting me some brass buttons to go with it. People love it when you have a project, even something as inconsequential as buttons.

On the way to cunderdin we hit the tammin op shop and i grabbed a pile of great board games for eight bucks. Titles include “careers” “police alert” “girl talk” “easy money” “snakes and ladders” “cwazy quilt” “park and shop” and some cuisinier rods. Cristina sad on the floor, engrossed in the national geographics. They were 12 for a dollar, but she didnt get any.

We were hungry by the time we got to cunderdin, and we found some salads and rolls in the back of the supa valu there. At the checkout, we asked shaz about the plymouth brethren. (she actually had “shaz” on her name tag!) – she was surprised there were none in the store, usually it was “crawling with them”. They were nice people, but she doubted they’d want to talk to us. They keep themselves to themselves. No TV, radio, internet, fax. Girls wear long skirts. But for some reason, they can drink. Not at the pub, they get take aways. Bundy apparently is a popular drink. The best plymouth brethren stories we heard were the ones where someone disobeys the strict lifestyle rules they have layed down for them, and gets kicked out (i kept thinking of the term “excommunicated”). Julie at the swimming pool said they sometimes dont go back after being excommunicated.

We found geoff in the office of the canvas making place. Phil, in the manufacturing section, sent us over to him, since he (phil) had no authority to talk about the group. That seems to be a common theme. Nobody wants to take responsibility for public statements. Which makes sense, since they are not trying to recruit, and in the past, a lot of publicity has been bad (especially when excommunicated members dish the dirt!). So geoff was pretty nervous. You could tell he didnt want us to be there, but he wasnt rude, and he did say a few things: the devil is in those technologies; they are not a religion, they are just people trying to follow His word, via the bible; outsiders are not allowed into the church services (cristina wants to take some photos) etc. I think she did pretty well, playing the “i’m from colombia and i heard there was a very special religion in this area” card – probably we got further than locals might have done.

At tru fab, just on closing time, we were lucky to catch a young lady who looked like she was dressed for church (geoff had told us thursday night was a big celebration) – she had a feather in her hair. We had been looking for vince, but he wasnt around. She suggested we see mark at wooden décor, but another day, as it was by now late. Cristina asked her a few things. Again, she was reluctant to say anything, but she did say it was “not really a religion. It’s a way of life”.

We were too late back to keller for me to varnish the cross at the prev. roger was still there cutting up some thick steel pipes with an oxy torch, and i talked to james about the burning back process. I hadnt realised it would produce such a beautiful sound, a snapping, crackling sharp and satisfying. At cunderdin, we had driven past a farm which was burning, two utes making sweeping arcs around the field followed by flaming trails which quickly shot up and died. Sometimes, convection made small artificial willy willies which spun the ashes up and out like a mini tornado.

We also met fay and john, who run the boer goat stud out of cunderdin. These are gorgeous brown faced, white bodied goats which, despite their beauty, are bred for the meat. Fay said they sell a lot to countries like malaysia and china, who breed with htem to fatten their own stock. I asked if she cooks dinner when representatives come from overseas, but she said no, she had heard that they dont like our food, so she never offered dinner. Fay and john are selling up the remaining goats and getting ready to retire. They’ve been breeding goats for 35 years. Fay seemed interested in hearing more from iaska, so we agreed to send her an invitation card. She reminded me of my friend jay balbi from sydney, a deadpan delivery in front of a mischievous humour. I liked her a lot.
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today is friday morning. Last night i was too tired to write all this down. I had been battling with wordpress, the blog software, and finally solved it. But i like this better – in the morning i am fresher, and i can sit with a coffee and write, before allowing the day’s activities to buffer me here and there. Before i check my email, too. And allow yesterday to be as much of a dream as my dreams.