Not all who wander are lost: A Fresh New Start

Dear Reader,

I suppose I should write a thing or two about what I've been up to in the last eight months & share some wisdom. And I'm sure there are some of you who want to know what happened after I left the vegan, homophobic, racist bible thumper. Grab your mug tea and cosy up for this one, it gets better.

So, the very last you knew of my adventures was this, I basically lived with a demon summoned from hell. I don't think I'd ever cried so much as I did living with her. In between fits of funger and being so sad being so isolated in some valley an hour and a half away from Wagga Wagga. A day or two after we settled into the farm, it became very clear the mother had some issues. Home economics and general home keeping were off with the pixies and there was no personal space or privacy within her house. It was as though I was living in a tree fort with the luxury of "fresh pumped out of the creek" water. I was annoyed with not having four walls surrounding my sleeping quarters and sleeping between two church pews.

Now, this woman on top of evidently being a total nut job, "ran" around Australia (including Tasmania) in 2010. She allegedly did it with her two children in tow and with the aid of backpackers she was picking up and dropping off in various cities along the run. And home became a vintage, 1973 Scania coach liner bus. She ripped out the seats and outfitted it with a bed and a "living room". So when we decided there was no more room in her cluttered home, my school bus became my new digs. It was wonderful getting away from the little demon seeds and not have to worry about waking up to the kids biting each other and dressing their stuffed animals in my socks and undies. But Christ it was freezing! It would dip down to -1 at night sometimes. Sleeping in a non insulated tin bus in the cold is one experience I hope I never have to relive.

One day we decided to drive 1600 km from NSW to Queensland to go stay with her second baby daddy's family. We packed up her truck and the mandatory Beverly Hill Billies trailer full of luggage and food. When I asked Sarah where were staying along the way, she simply replied "hotels cost money. We're gonna pitch tents at truck stops and camp out along the way". Ah yes, nothing like a bit of truck stop sexual assault to get any holiday started! We were three kilometres away from the exit ramp to get on the highway to start our journey when Sarah's phone rang. She actually pulled over to answer which was a blessing for me. On the other end, was the pub owner who's ad I had originally replied to. He was shorthanded at the pub and needed a back packer to cover a few shifts. Sarah said she was willing to "loan me out" for two weeks under the condition I be paid for my work (ironic, considering she didn't pay me anything but paid her seven year old $20 to clean her room!) and that I be returned to them when they got back to their farm. Seemed like a reasonable deal. I was scared senseless because not only did I not know where I was, I was going to stay with a complete stranger in a pub. She dropped me off at a trucker stop and then my psychological demons came to party in my head. I just started crying in this auto mechanics shop, feeling so lost and no idea what was ahead of me. Out of a corner, I could hear some kind of an animal with a little bell attached to it. "For F*cks sake, a cat. Really?" To my delight, this skinny wiry Jack Russell came out to say hello and distract me until my ride came to pick me up. (For those who don't know, my parents have two Jack Russells in Canada I absolutely loooove them to death. They're one of the top things I miss about home). I decided right there this was the universe's way of telling me everything was going to be alright. I don't think a Jack Russell would cross my path if bad things were to ensue. This was a Tuesday and a trend emerged after that...

Paul arrived and automatically I liked the guy. To my surprise, he was a little bit older but looked very kind and lovely. He brought me back to the pub and straight away offered me something real to eat. Having known Sarah, he knew what dietary delights I had endured for the previous 5 weeks. Tasmanian Brie, Danish Salami and Pinot Noir. I knew straight away this man was sent from Heaven to save me. With that first swig of wine and tantalizing bite of crisp water biscuit and creamy brie, all the prior stress of living with Sarah and her brats washed away. I politely asked Paul if I could stay with him for the remaining 7 weeks and never have to go anywhere near Sarah. He kindly obliged and even drove me back to her farm that afternoon to gather the remains of my belongings. I'll never forget my first night at the pub so long as I live. Taking a hot shower in a warm house and having my own comfortable bed to sleep in with brand new sheets. Everyday, the pub became more and more like home. I had a proper kitchen with fresh food to cook with. Solar power and propane stoves could no longer jeopardize my culinary escapades. There was lots of space to call my own and some freshly shorn, temperamental alpacas in the back paddock I effortlessly tried to befriend. Paul trusted me to handle his pub and run a tight ship. All the locals in the village seemed to take a liking to me and were always happy to offer extra jobs on their farms for some pocket money. I made a life long friend with this beautiful German woman who's words of kindness and home cooking made me feel closer to home and a little less homesick. Paul's girlfriend Suzy was so kind and another "bossy boots" just like myself. We got along right from the start and I was fortunate to have learned a lot from her - from the art of bending metal to make hooks to tending a beautiful garden. Her ability to "make something from nothing" still floors me. She has the patience and the artistic insight to see the potential beauty in what would be a lost cause to most people.

My Seven weeks at the pub resulted in a lot of comfort eating to over come the turbulence of living from Sarah's, a lot of days on farms doing all sorts of jobs, forging new friendships, running a pub with the local women and savouring time out of the city. At times it felt like time was soft, but in reality it went by in the blink of an eye. I'm approaching the one year anniversary of the start of my farm work. It feels like a life time ago but as though it was just yesterday. Funny how time starts to play tricks with you as you get older.

I think the goodness of everything needs to be there for everyone to see. I'm truly going to make an effort to update this more often xx