Writings

Canberra’s Arboretum

When we were last in Canberra we went twice to the National Arboretum, which is fast becoming one of Canberra’s star attractions. It was conceived of and established during Jon Stanhope’s time at Canberra’s helm following the 2003 Bushfires. Arguably, it was his governments greatest achievement. Policy comes and goes and changes, but trees tend to hang around for a bit longer. Generally. We hope.

Apart from the many tree plots within the park which showcase a variety of trees from around the globe, there is an outstanding visitors building. I love this building because it is full of elegantly curving wood and is spacious and airy.

I love wood.

I love wood when it’s in a living tree.

So I love the Arboretum. Or, I love what it is growing into.

Pod Playground. That is the new kids area next to the visitors centre. It is, hands down, the best playground I’ve been to or at least taken my kids to. It is not completely adult friendly – which is what makes it totally amazing for kids. It takes the kids up into the sky, away from the adults below, through kid-sized tunnels and acorn rooms and down a couple of steep slides.

The Banksia seed pod rooms house dingy-dongy things for kids to bang on. It again is kid friendly rather than adult friendly with doors only so high. Perfect.

After getting exhausted with the kids we went and had a coffee at the overpriced cafe. I guess you are paying for the view and it is worth it, I think. The Visitors centre has got the mix between rock, timber, concrete, steel and space just right and even though it can absolutely fill with people voices float up into the ceiling and we didn’t find ourselves raising voices at all.

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July 15, 2013
Slow steps forwards

We have taken two steps backwards and another forwards. For some reason – we think it might be some latent paint stripper, which somehow made it through the paint prepping stage – the paint in a few areas blistered and came off.

But, if there’s anything I’ve learnt from Grand Designs it is that building projects come with inherent setbacks, additional costs and continual time delays.

So when I look at our project and am overwhelmed by all the many details that will need starting and completing before we can finally move in and call it home, I remember all those people who have felt the same and broadcast these feelings to the world through this and other such programs. Thanks you people.

If we do fail – which we won’t – I can also remember: “If you never fail at something you were never doing anything interesting.”

July 14, 2013
It’s all an experiment

My dad is getting older (no surprises there) and we are having some great discussions these days all about life. I love the conclusions he is coming to.

Some people seem to go through life and become more and more convinced that what they believe is damn well 100% right and that’s all there is to it (the blinkers slowly close in over the years), other people live and all they really learn is that they really know very little at all. I like this latter kind the best and that is what seems to be happening to dad and I…the more we learn the less we know.

We talked about parenting. There are stacks and stacks of books and books and seminars and classes and methods about how to parent. I have friends whose parenting styles are as different as pigs and bricks.

It’s rather mind boggling and utterly confusing.

There are so many empirical methods with spruikers calling their own methods the one and only from ‘to smack or not to smack’, ‘to cloth diaper or disposable diaper or even to just free-ball it’, ‘to homeschool or private/public school’ and parents agonize over all these little decisions which eventually add up to a life – their precious child’s life! It’s a big deal. And everyone is out there trying to drag parents through their own doors.

But, you know what: the problem offers its own conclusion. There is so much information out there. There are so many different ways of going at it that basically it all boils down to this: Everyone does it differently and raising children is all a big experiment every time around. Infinitesimal variability exists, so why bother over analysing.

From going through the methods (well, just those I’ve managed to get around to) in all their muddy detail I can’t settle on just one. Basically I like this approach: Be as well informed as you can be then just throw the books out the window and do the best you can.

Ultimately that is what we will all have ended up doing. No person will ever parent perfectly (though some delude themselves), and all we can do is simply ‘the best we can’ and then after that we can only admit that we’ve made mistakes and let our children run off and make their own mistakes.

That. Is life.

That brings me to something else I’ve been thinking about and that is that the most important thing for a parent to say to their children (I think it may be as important as ‘I love you’ – because it does in fact demonstrate love.) is: I’m sorry.

‘I’m sorry’ is a perfect little phrase that sums up so much: I’m human too, I make mistakes, I think you are important enough for me to be humble about my failings to, I love you, you’re great and deserve better. That kind of stuff.

And that is the conclusive way to parent your kids.

July 13, 2013
Fog on the road back to Young

I am enjoying Winter fogs and frosts, which are too few and far between. Back in Young yet again. Soooo ready to just finish this bus so we can get going.

July 10, 2013
Making time

Coming back every now and then has its drawbacks. While the commute is not too far for a few days stay it is too far for a day trip and I am finding unwelcome limitations to our time spent here. The most major is the effect it has on relationships. We have been here for five days and have seen three groups of very important people, some family and a treasured Great-Nonna, have bumped into a couple of good people unexpectedly, one of whom I especially wanted to see but did not have the time to schedule something with and have also managed to squeeze in a date and visit the markets, the likes of which are not seen in Young.

But there is still a long list of people remaining unseen. People who will remain unseen until our next visit in a month, at least.

It is more than frustrating.

I am trying to come up with good solutions. These people this visit. Those people the next. Keep it rotating and fresh. But it’s not possible to be fair to all, and if people fall through the cracks of a tight schedule one just has to let go.

We also didn’t manage to visit Tidbinbilla, something I was ever so keen to do.

It’s a lesson in life, isn’t it. We are limited creatures living in limited time in a limited space.

I guess I’ll just have to put up with that.

July 8, 2013
Shots from Above

We’ve had warm sunny days, icy nights, foggy mornings, rainy afternoons. Have been snuggling up, growing antsy, becoming frustrated, playing music, writing stories, drawing pictures, scraping paint, drilling off rivets, cleaning up – many times over, and being torn in two.

If home is where the heart is my home is both here and in Canberra, and so I’m waiting for the reconciliation, which is coming in a few days. I had a near meltdown yesterday and the best thing to do is give myself space and stop putting the pressure on. Sometimes one woman can just not do everything. The most pressure I get is the pressure I put on myself. The pressure to have a clean house, to power down on the bus, to feed everyone, to engage the children, to be putting time into and succeeding at all the things I want to do myself. Letting go of those ambitions can be the hardest. It almost seems as if I would be letting go of myself.

What’s the antidote to this, people?

Maybe I think it could be about enjoying the process. The process of life. And taking note of the detail, like the way the colours play out on a table covered with pencil shavings and pencils, or the steam coming off a pot of porridge, or the pattern created from cut fruit, or the light shining through green glass, or children eating their peas, or my son wearing a fake mo.

And photography is so great at forcing me to recognise and appreciate the small details…though I don’t always like the way it pushes me into spectatorship. Sometimes spectating brings objectivity, so I suppose all things in balance is a good thing.

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I’m meaning to take some photos around here of the houses. As I drive I find myself distracted by the absolute hodge podge of buildings. There are federation style building interspersed with el cheapo weather board. Solid, aging brick and restored relics. I love the absolute variety and the lack of cookie cutter housing plantations that happen in larger cities.

July 1, 2013
Keeping house

It’s been just the kids and I and my little-sister-in-law floating around this gigantic house. We’ve cleaned out the kitchen and I’ve been getting a handle on the old fuel stove. I love these things. They warm the house, heat the water, boil a kettle and can bake and fry all at the once.

June 28, 2013
Present

I flipped out yesterday when I realised we’d been here for three months already. I was so naive to think we’d possibly be done by then. Very obviously I’ve never built anything much before.

Today I found I’d missed a month and it has only been two months and really, to give myself more wiggle room, you can’t really count three or four of those weeks as we’ve been to Canberra and back over a couple of those weeks – to get money and stuff.

So I feel slightly better about it all, but still: It’s July in four days! We were never meant to be here in July, we are supposed to be sunning ourselves on Byron Bay’s beaches.

Well, I don’t mind to be honest. To me life has changed already. I am where I am supposed to be right now, I’ve put some new lenses on and that is the main thing. I’ve got on some glasses that say I don’t have to be held back by circumstance or lack of funds or lifestyle choices (i.e. choosing to drop an income to stay home with the babies). We were heading into a serious rut of hubby working 12 hour days, stress levels hitting the stratosphere daily and always reaching for what was not there. Instead of enjoying the right here right now we reached, desperately, toward the next weekend or holiday. We were crushed by the fact that we could not afford to buy a house, at least none less than 60 minutes drive from work-central.

So we canvassed our options and it began with a push back into school.

This was not always going to be the next step in a linear career. It was a breather. A time to realign our orbit. Cutting the chain from the foot to ‘the man’ drew a bit of blood and sweat, but it was done and space from a high-pressure job with no time to think was filled by books and brain work.

We found we could live on a measly income and that was a real freedom.

With the next brainwave then of living on a bus and traveling Australia all my latent travel bugs had a party. Knowing we were leaving I began slowly de-cluttering our rental and when we moved we were able to fit most of our wordly possessions into two over-sized utes.

The mental release came then as we turned our backs on strugglesville (it was that for us) and toward a creative life, one where we create our life. And for us it starts with building our own home on wheels. We choose our way within our limits, but at least we have choice. Our own hands do the banging and sawing and gluing and sanding. Every time I take note of what I am doing I think that this is something I will be immensely proud of in the future. I think sometimes that it would probably be simpler or easier to earn the money to buy a ready-made mobile home or even a house and land package but it would not nearly be as fun and it would not nearly be as personally satisfying as putting our own hands to the task. This bus is both a creative endeavour and also a very practical and useful asset, my favourite kind of ‘art’ project. So I am actually immensely grateful for having a very clever husband who is very skillful in many, many areas who I can do things like this with.

When it all comes down to it I would rather be doing this with him than have him working for 12 hours a day in a very separate environment and having to reconnect our relationship after a day of disconnect. Every day.

Today the kids and I watched Wallace and Gromit: A Grand Day Out. I think when we began this project I expected to whip our bus together the way W&G whipped their rocket together. In a day. Yes, I got my building cues from a British animation. At least it was a good one. I have found that at least we are resembling one aspect of that show. I am definitely like Wallace. I go at it with loads of enthusiasm and very little ability. I get into messes and Henry, like the intellectual Gromit, rescues me from my mistakes and is the one who actually makes it work. Together we are a good team! Or at least I think so.

Our rocket to the moon may not go up in a day or be so spectacular or defy physics so much, but one day it will really be real. Hopefully very soon.

June 27, 2013
Young

We’re still here. Hoeing the garden. Feeding the ducks. Chasing cats. Spotlighting possums.

Testing our solar hot water. It works.

Finding tunes to work by.

Another lovely view from our roof.

I was doing this. It’s done now! And painted. It looks handsome with a hat.

This hen is no longer. A fox got to her. The last of the thirty that once were…

Somehow the ducks live on. Probably because they are inseparable.

I love ducks! They ‘quack quack quack’ and wiggle their bottoms into their pen. Cute.

Anyone for cheap insulation? We are stuffing the foam from banged up fridge doors and wind surfboards – of all things! – into the walls and filling the gaps with expandafoam. It works.

Our grey goose. Top is white and the side is just hanging in there until we get around to it. All in good time my friends.

This lifestyle is nice. I was tramping the wheelbarrow past the duck pen through the wet grass and wholeness filled me. If you’ve never tried this kind of lifestyle, don’t knock it. It really is fulfilling. Being involved in nature – that place that is essential to survival, that place from which all our nourishment comes from, air, food, water – is extremely grounding.

Hard work of the physical kind eliminates boredom, makes us use our bodies for what they were made for – just to be used! To do things! – reduces depression, stops us thinking about our problems and withdrawing into ourselves. I can’t see anything but good to be gotten out of hard work and caring for the things the people the land the animals all around us.

Anyway, it is fulfilling and I am finding it a refreshingly honest way to live. I could see myself tramping around a paddock to feed the ducks, muck out the pigs, grow some crops. It’s fun getting dirty. I’d like to turn some of this lovely soil into food before we hop on our bus and tootle off.

June 19, 2013
Out takes

June 6, 2013