New Year In Dellaren

So we enter our third year and our two year anniversary in Dellaren, we arrived at the beginning of 2009 lucky to escape the flooding in Far North East QLD, I didn't like it there and prayed for a reason to leave, unfortunately it was a prayer that cost George his job and a lot more personally. I was afraid that we were going to be trapped there, it had rained almost every day of the six months that I lived there. The suffocating humidity was too much for me to bear and the people were unlike any that I had met before, I didn't know how to assimilate with them and felt like a right royal snob.

The threat of a Cyclone lingering off the coast, bringing tremendous rain meant that I had to take the long way to work as my shortcut was cut off by flooded roads, the day drew nearer that we were to leave and I was afraid that the roads out of there would be cut by swollen rivers, we hadn't seen the sun for a month and when the day came, it we got the all clear all the way south and I sighed with relief as we drove away, little did I know what I was about to get myself into.

We made it safely to Dellaren and have endured much the same behaviour here as we encountered up there, where I thought people had been left in the sun a little too long, however the people here are quite different, a breed of their own really, actually literally, the amount of inbreeding might actually surprise you.

But I resign to the fact that people are different no matter where you go and I am not normal by any stretch of the imagination.

It has been an interesting and challenging adventure where we have learnt a lot about ourselves and more so about others, it has been quite extraordinary to watch how individuals behave and how different relationships pan out and has certainly made me a little more aware of my behaviour and interaction with others and how I am perceived and interpreted by other people.

Each one seems to have a different opinion, which in many ways leaves me a little confused.

Most of all I have learnt that I like to be treated as an equal and with respect, as I guess anyone does. I have never had much self confidence in the past so I just let people treat me however they wanted to and it never really phased me, however now I am finding it difficult to tolerate people who think they are better than me, I deserve more.

Today could quite possibly change the course of our lives as could this entire week, I feel quite subdued about it as nothing is certain and we have had too many disappointments to get excited anymore.

Today we had a family travel through the night to come and have a look at the shop and the house, from what I understand they liked what they saw, which is positive and I pray that these are the people that I had imagined would buy this place, the people who, this is exactly what they were looking for, a place where they can settle into this warped community and be blissfully happy in what we see as the epitome of hell, where the devil dances joyfully in the bitterness of the people who reside here.

Only time will tell, we have only had one other couple actually make the trip to come and look at the business, and a lot of nearly dids. The other couple were completely bogan in my judgement and would have fitted in perfectly, however it turns out they were snobby bogans and looked down upon the locked petrol bowsers and the roller doors we have on the windows of the shop, to pull down at night, as do most businesses now days, in any town. To protect our windows from late night drunken disagreements.

Dellaren was well behaved today, the devil turned up the heat, which I hope didn't turn them off completely, it was HOT, even I felt it, and I am cold blooded. The lady mentioned on more than one occasion how much she hated the heat, but she liked the idea of pony club for her not so little 5 year old daughter and building a veggie garden and playing lawn bowls.

The town glistened in the heat and it kept most of the vagrants off the streets, which meant that they hadn't littered the footpaths with their takeaway wrappers and Coke bottles, it looked as tidy as it ever would with its dusty brown streets and tired looking scrubby trees trying to hide in the shade of themselves.

The town actually offered them more than they expected with a school, hospital, bowling club, town pool and a pub. This is a positive thing. However we remain realistic, we aren't the only business that they are looking at, they left us with a firm shake of the hand and drove down the back lane with a wave and a swerve to dodge the pot holes, off to see another business four hours from here.

So now we wait. And we pray.

Seedy Sales

Sales is not exactly my forte, I have tried, really tried, why I thought it would be a good idea to buy a retail business is almost beyond me.

I liked the idea of helping Georges parents to be able to retire, and also the idea of not having a boss or co-workers apart from George, however I don't think that I fully thought through the whole process entirely.

I failed to imagine the calibre and demographic of our customers and their lack of education and etiquette, now I know that it takes all types and such things as education don't always account for the level of interpersonal skills that people possess. That no matter where you live, it is almost a certainty that you encounter unpleasantness from other people, but in our case things are not diluted because the population is so small so it seems unproportionally insane.

I lose a lot of customers/sales sometimes because I can mis read the situation or completely stuff it up in how I handle it.

All those little tricks that salesmen use, I just can't seem to get a handle on them, I am no smooth talker and I hate to rip anyone off, when we first started I had to remind myself that people actually went home with something they wanted, we weren't just taking their money, I know how hard I have had to work to get what money I have, yet some people just don't seem to have any concern for it and have no problem buying disgusting looking trinkets that don't actually do anything.

Which is interesting because when we buy things to sell in the shop, we don't buy what we would like, if we think it is revolting and tacky then it will sell.

Today a man came into the shop and wanted to borrow a pen, I told him he could buy one for 80 cents, he didn't like that at all, but I stuck to my guns and told him to go and borrow one from somewhere else because I sell pens, I don't lend them.

Had he approached the situation in a different way I would have been happy to lend him a pen, but his manner and tone when he asked me without even saying please, I wasn't prepared to be a good samaritan in turn for his rudeness, turned out I am the worst person in the world and now have a black mark against my name, because even though this guy was from away, he used to live here and knows everyone, in fact George even used to work for him, all over a pen.

So he was out in the street slandering me to everyone that would listen.

And I cried like a girl when no one could see me.

It's a tough game.

Getting High

Cannabis, marijuana, weed, pot, hashish, yarni, dope, gear, wacky tabaky; these are some of the more conservative names for this drug, let alone the colloquial versions, of which in my naivety, I have no idea what they are.

I do however, now know what this drug smells like.

I had a vague idea from when I was living and working in Sydney, but I was never really sure, until I moved to Dellaren, it is really quite distinctive.

The cops seem to turn a bit of a blind eye to the drug trafficking in Dellaren, I believe there have been a few 'busts,' but if you want to smoke a joint in the street, in the middle of the day, around children, go right ahead.

I am seen as a bit of a prude, so the drug scene is very much out of my view, but I hear snippits that it is certainly alive and well.

I definately see it's effects and on occasion have been privy to the abuse that comes from using this as well as other hard stuff.

Last month while working at the doctors surgery, I received quite a ear bashing from one man who wanted a doctors appointment, even though we have no doctor, he needed some paperwork signed so that he could continue getting payments from his insurance company, which the previous doctor had refused to sign anyway.

This man, lets call him Rod, had a car accident while working on a property and broke his neck, which he received compensation for, his neck has now healed completely, nothing wrong with him, fully capable of working, apart from maybe his personality and motivation, physically though, nothing hindering him.

Rod, it seems has a little problem with substance abuse, when he decided to come and give me a serve, without taking a breath for long enough for me to explain how we could help him, everyone who was working in the hospital that day came running to see what was happening, because he was loud enough to stir even the deaf residents living a block away.

After raising my voice to him, to try to get him to stop for long enough to say something, which didn't work, he left the hospital yelling all the way down the street, my boss came to see if I was alright, the nurse came out to see what was happening, as she thought he was after some drugs, I was alright, it actually felt pretty good to stand up for myself, which is difficult in the shop, even though there was not a resolution it felt good, might have been a bad move on my half but at the time I didn't care, my boss was alright with it and Rod hasn't stepped foot near the shop since, which is ok by us, and there haven't been any other ramifications that we are aware of.

Rod, I found out later has also managed to shoot himself in the head without actually killing himself, shame really.

He also decided it would be a good idea to lure his next door neighbour into his yard while having an altercation about a dog, only to be hiding behind the gate, waiting with a steal baseball bat ready to bash his neighbour over the head.

Only little does he realise that his neighbour, who is no better than Rod himself, carries machetes and other similar knives concealed on his person at all times, bad luck for any poor unsuspecting person who may aggravate the bastard.

I have no idea who ended up worse off, nor do I really care, I do however find it pretty amusing, I must be a little unhinged.

So when Rod called my boss to see if he could get in to see the doctor when we had a locum visiting, she told him that he needed to apologise before he would get in to see anyone, he said that we owed him an apology because I was the one that attacked him!

This is all deemed normal behaviour in Dellaren, which to me seems a little outlandish and this is only a taste of what I am discovering every day about the lives of the people of this little town isolated in the scrub of 'North South Wales' as it was referred to by a telemarketer the other day.

Scrambled

This has been a pretty full on month... thinking that we were still in August! My head is scrambled so much that I find it difficult to even string a sentence together. My mind is filled with fog and grey matter, everything is whirling around in a dizzying spin, that I literally lose my balance when I try to stand up too quickly, luckily though no one has noticed.

So many things have been happening that anger me into a state of confusion and forgetfulness.

I never knew how difficult it was for some people to complete a task that for others is so mind numbingly simple.

This was last week, I was so scattered that I couldn't even finish writing what I had started, and now, even thinking of it, I can't remember entirely what it was that got me so fired up.

I know I have been having trouble changing my name with a number of different companies, who manage to change my surname but not my title, so that even though I am married I have remained a Miss!

I never knew that owning a business would open up so many avenues of frustration; dark dank ally ways crowed with rats and people sticking their legs out, trying to trip you in the confusion of the crowd of things that swarm around you everyday, begging to be done, mixed in with the personal chores that need attention on top of all of that.

There are moments of light when someone opens a doorway to help, or when the sun creeps out from behind the clouds and sneaks in between the cracks in the buildings, on days like this things are easy, they flow smoothly and you wonder what all the fuss is about.

We can go for days, weeks even, when things seem settled, the customers are pleasant enough, when it has been put into perspective, sometimes we deal with a person and think, 'crazy!' but then we think about it if it had been in another situation, in another place, at another time, and compare them to some of our other customers and you realise, 'Ok they weren't too bad.'

Then there are times when one, after the other, after the other, are just insane and you go a little mental, sometimes I imagine we can be a little rude or abrupt to an undeserving customer whilst trying to comprehend the insanity of some situations or people that we have just encountered.

It almost seems sometimes that people tend to be absent minded or completely self absorbed to the point that they are unaware of any human interaction that they might have encountered while in the shop. I must admit I know there are times when I have been like that, I will have to remember to be more aware of my surroundings in the future!

Pushing on.

Yesterday, being a saturday meant that we got to close early and have the whole afternoon to ourselves, it is pure luxury indulging in our two afternoons off on the weekends.

Most of the time, we either do house or yard work and catch up on the washing that mounts up, slowly during the week in the wicker basket in the bathroom.

Yesterday, however George was away, I tidied the house room by room with the intention of vacuuming but in the end only managed on cleaning the bathroom, so while the rooms were tidy the carpet is still thick with dust, I cleaned it last week, but it doesn't take long to amass an amazing amount of powdery dust from who knows where.

After watching a bit of TV on my computer, I packed my backpack with a jumper and a drink and made my way down the rickety wooden stairs, pumped up the tyres and strapped on my helmet.

George and I bought ourselves new bikes, George put them together the other day and I have been waiting to get the opportunity to spin my new wheels.

I was so excited and a little bit nervous as well, as I could hear the local kids fooling around in the main street, and as stupid as it is I am a little scared of them, little louts that they are, when I was a kid I was a little timid around grown ups, certainly I would not dare to speak to them unless they spoke to me, let alone ridicule them. This is definitely not the case any more, kids have no shame and no fear, the kids around here anyway.

So I sucked it up, I thought, so what if they see me riding, I pushed my bike out of the gate and called to Boogie, who cowered in the bushes beside the pool, weird dog that he is, he's a little scared of the big bad world, or maybe he is just confined to his duty of guard dog and the guilt of leaving his post is too much to bear.

So I left him there, shut the gate and jumped on my bike. Its been a number of years since I rode a bike, but I haven't lost it, its just like 'riding a bike.'

Pushing down on the peddles and being propelled forward was an exhilarating feeling, I rode down the back lane, a little bit wobbly on the uneven surface of the dirt, dodging the puddles festering from last weeks rain, unable to drain away, bumping over the mounds created by the cars and trucks driving through the mud which has long since dried up and crusted over, getting lost in the pot holes and divots in the lane, until I pushed out from between the pub and the derelict house on the corner, onto the road.

I waited at the main street for a car to pass, I could feel their eyes watching me as they passed, I glanced to the left to look down the main street, to my relief the kids had gone, off to cause some mischief in someone else's yard, they wouldn't be game to try to get into ours, not with Boogie there at least.

I stood up on the peddles and rode up onto the bridge to head out of town, the sun on my back and the wind stroking my cheeks, the fresh dusty air filling my lungs as my muscles stretched out in luxury, unencumbered by the confines of everyday life, out in the open space, with room to move.

As I rode along the narrow rode, praying that I wouldn't have to compete for the bitumen with a roadtrain, I concentrated on the white line beneath my tyres , watching it disappear where the soft edges of the road had crumbled away, I played with the gears amazed at how easy they were to change, one lever to up a gear and another to go down, one flick and the chain ground its way from one cog to the other, it took me about a kilometre before I had it completely figured out.

As I glided along, I lifted my head and noticed the ugly beauty that surrounded me.

Everything was so peacefully quite, when I looked to my left off in the distance, I saw a lonely camper taking a cup of water back to their site to make a cuppa, to my right lay the fresh carcass of a Kangaroo.

The breeze tickled the leaves in the trees and the bird chirped blissfully, playing, ducking and diving, chasing each other through the branches.

I was starting to tire but knew that I didn't have far to go and not only that, I was enjoying it so much that I didn't want it to end.

I reached the two kilometre mark and turned to my left, onto the dirt and through the gate, Smidge started barking even though I was still hundreds of metres away, I whistled out to her, letting her know that it was only me, she heard me but didn't listen.

As I came around the bend I sped up and yelled out to her, the tail tucked up between her legs wagging, she did a little dance as I parked my bike in the shed, excited to see me, waiting in anticipation for a little pat.

Her tiny frame danced along side me as I made my way onto the porch where I was met by Jock, the Jack Russell, complete with ball in mouth, ready to play.

I made my way inside to find Mama up on a stool, putting away a years supply of rice which she had divvied up into smaller containers.

We chatted and soon the dogs were off barking again as the boys made their way down the drive.

Back it up

I am lucky enough to be amused everyday by the goings on in the street, I certainly don't get to see everything that happens, as the doorway to our shop isn't that big and the front windows are full of displays and covered with a curtain.

One thing that fails to amaze me, is peoples lack of ability to drive, I suppose that's why they live out here and hate the city so much, because they are scared of the traffic, I would be too if I thought that everyone drove the way these people do.

Most of them go flat out like the clappers or they are simply not moving, however I'd say about 90% of them cannot reverse park, I watch them as they back up, slowly, until WHAM the back back tyres hit the curb and they know they have parked the car.

Now I do not profess to be an expert at driving by any stretch of the imagination, but I can reverse park a car.

I have no idea how these people have no concept of the space around them to be able to tell when to pull up. As far as I am aware, I am sure that there is some crazy law that has probably never been enforced, where it is actually illegal to have your tyres pushed into the curb.

We don't always have a lot of cars parked in the street but I'd say, 9 times out of 10 the wheels are jammed up into the gutter, bulging under the weight of the car/truck/ute.

Whats even better is when they reverse straight into a power pole with an almighty CRACK, once it was the cars taillights, the other time was the actual pole, I had to laugh out loud when I saw that one, while making sure I wasn't in the way if it decided to come down, which it didn't, but I half expected a blackout. Luckily for everyone involved it stood strong.

Just not Mickey Mouse

Rodents.

Dellaren is full of them, not just the human kind either.

The other day I was walking down the street to go and collect the mail when I stopped dead in my tracks, held my breath and lifted up on to my tippy toes, then I realised it was dead, laying motionless on the footpath, a little mouse.

On another day I was changing the Lotto posters on the wall, when I jumped back, caught my breath and then noticed it was dead, another mouse, just inside the entrance to the shop, laying next to the ice cream freezer.

Sitting at the back of the shop on the computer last year, I kept hearing a noise above me, this little mouse was eating the bait on the shelf above me, then climbed down a wire onto the bookshelf beside me all the way down to the ground, no fear, I was right next to it, yuck.

A few days ago, as I was going out the back of the shop a little brown creature ran straight past my foot to hide in the shadows, and last night when I went to lock the safe one ran from under the desk to the tiniest space between the wall and the safe.

Not to mention all the dead ones we have caught in the traps we have set next to the fridge and the stove, I always turn the light on if I have to come out to get a drink in the middle of the night in case one got its head caught and struggled to try and get free only to cark it in the middle of the kitchen floor for an unwary person to step on while they aren't paying attention or can't see where they are going.

It may be cruel, and I may be callous but I can't stand mice, they stink and they are creepy, did you know a mouse can fit through a hole the size of a pencil!

I have seen a mouse scale a brick wall from the floor right up to the roof while sitting having lunch with one of George's friends on a building site in Gullet, quite amazing really.

The rodents are definitely not something that I will miss when we leave here, the only thing I can think of that I would possibly miss is the sky but that goes everywhere with me and no matter where you live it is never to long a drive to escape the city lights to bathe under the starry sky.

Early on a Sunday morning

This morning we woke up at 6am, which is a little earlier than usual, as we had to drive to Gullet to collect the papers, as our usual Sunday driver is sick. This doesn't really bother us, as it is a bit of pocket money, its a bit of a gamble though, driving through the twilight, on watch for roos, foxes and hares.

It's hard to get up when it is so cold, 0.2degrees according to my phone, layer by layer we got dressed to the point where I can barely lift my arms and out into the darkness.

We drove down the lane and had contrail vapours following us from the condensation of the exhaust meeting the icy chill in the air.

As we drew nearer to Gullet the sun had tipped up over the horizon, spilling colours out onto the sky, the birds picked at the carcasses squashed into the road, as the colours changed from inky blue to purple, pink and peach, rising up across the sky in front of us, slowly fading into a dusky blue to cover the scrub for the rest of the day, with the wind whipping up across the dusty plains.

Back in the shop, it was a quite day, but exciting as we have a new project, I decided to 'buy' myself a video camera from the shop, I figured George had probably smoked the equivalent value, so this is what I got.

We have set it up, complete with a velcro dot so that it doesn't move when we turn it on and off, to record the coming and goings of the inhabitants of Dellaren! Spectacular!

We have already recorded some beauties! George has decided to start his own blog with the highlights from everyday!

We figured we really needed to have visual proof, as sometimes, words are just not enough. So we will make the most of the rest of our time here by recording what can only be seen to be believed.

What are they doing over there?

A lady from out on one of the properties came in to the shop today, I didn't recognise her but she knew my name, she went and found what she wanted to buy and as she was leaving she tried to bait me for some gossip.

L:'What are they doing over there?'

Keeping very vague, knowing where she was going with it and also knowing what they were doing over there I said 'over where?'

L: 'Over in that vacant lot over there,' referring to the block of land that George's parents used to own.

Me: 'I don't know'

L: 'I heard that they were building solar panels over there'

Me: 'Oh ok.'

L: 'Why would you want to do that for!'

me: 'Ah, to generate electricity.'

That was after she asked me when they were going to stop setting fire to the town, and that soon it would be a one sided street.

This vacant block has kept everyone in the town entertained for the past week, before the fire, it has been vacant for as long as anyone in town would care to remember and has a well worn 'goat track' through the short grass that grows on it.

It is the 'short' cut for many people in to the main street. So when someone started building a fence on the block on the weekend, hoards (slight exaggeration) of people stopped and stared.

There were a few committee meetings held on the footpath, which I watched with amusement from inside the shop, while the ladies (and men who could pass as such) gossiped and speculated about what was happening.

"What are they building?" A fence. Whoa big news!

When the tenant next door asked me last week what they were doing I said I didn't know, maybe she should go and ask them. Her response 'oh I did, they told me but I didn't understand.'

How much is dis ere?

A little boy walks into the shop.

I go over to watch him while he looks at the toys, and he asks me: 'How much for dis one ere'

me: '$15.95'

boy: 'oh, I dunt have enuf"

me: 'how much do you have?'

boy: '$20'

Dellaren Burning

15 months ago we were looking after the shop for George's parents while they were away, before we took over. It had been a long day and we had finally fallen asleep, when, in the middle of the night we were woken by a loud and frantic knocking on the front door.

At first I freaked out a little, not knowing what was going on, George was sleeping starkers that night so I was forced to stumble out of bed, I ran down the dark hallway only to find that the front door was deadlocked and I couldn't get it open, the Sargent of Police banging on the door.

I yelled out, asking who was there, all he managed to yell was Police, and fire!

The adrenaline was pumping through me thick and fast, I felt it swell up in my body, my ears hot and numb, I told him I had to go around and open another door, I ran back down the hall, calling out to George who had managed to put something on, we fell out the door together onto the porch met by the Sargent, who was flustered and telling us that the old bake house across the road from the shop was on fire and the embers were falling on the roof of the shop.

We jumped in the car, went down the long driveway and out the gate, as we rounded the corner we could see the glow on the horizon, feeling sick with the thought of what we could find, we drove closer to town, the whole sky lit up in an orange haze.

We drove down the lane, unlocked the gate and ran in to find the dogs barking, everything looked ok, George went in to open and unarm the shop while I, scared out of my mind had to climb the rotten old wooden stairs and go into the dark and empty house to make sure the roof wasn't on fire, my heart pumping in my throat and in my ears, the house had been empty for six years and I was certain that it was haunted, that or I'd be likely to tread on a dead mouse, the idea of either makes me jump.

Fumbling for all of the light switches I made my way room by room to the front of the house, everything seemed ok, George met me in the master bedroom and we peered out of the window watching the embers flying up onto and over the awning. The volunteer firemen and women had been hosing our roof down for a while and were afraid that they would need to get in the back way in case anything got out of control.

Once we were sure that everything was ok, we ran back down the rickety old stairs and into the car and around to the front of the shop, where we let the relevant people know that everything was alright.

We watched that fire burn for hours, waiting to see if anything would spark in the back yard from the flying embers. The volunteer fire fighters did a spectacular job keeping it under control and contained it to just one building, it was actually quite amazing to see the building next to it, which stood so closely, still standing barely a scorch march on it.

Once the major threat to our shop had passed and the flames licked the ground, we made our way home to try and get a little sleep before coming back in to open the shop.

We slept fitfully for the next few nights as each day passed there was another fire, three in total, the old bakery, and two abandoned houses, we waited to see what would be next to go down in flames, fearing the worst.

Rumour has it that it was a young teenage girl, a 'foreigner' (as in not from this town) visiting for the school holidays, she was bad news, and got a slap on the wrist and led on her merry way.

We now live in the house above the shop, a massive clean, some furniture and having the lights on makes it feel a little like a home.

For the past few days we have been fighting feeling a little off, the exhaustion from working so much creeping up on us so that our sleep is deep and restless.

I was up at 1am for a drink and I also took some panadol then went back to bed, later I heard George stir next to me but turned over and fell asleep again for just a moment, he had gone to get a drink and thought it was raining however as he walked past the lounge room and saw an unusual glow through the window, he knew that something was not right.

Initially he thought, what is shitcan up to now? Thinking he might have been doing some building at night, but that didn't fit, he raced down the hall yelling into the bedroom for me, "quick, wake up, come here."

Dazed, confused and frightened I jumped out of bed before my eyes had a chance to open and stumbled into the master bedroom, as we have been sleeping in one of the spare rooms to avoid the noise from the main street.

I asked what was wrong, but one look out the window told me everything I needed to know, the old stock and station agency that had survived unscathed fifteen months ago was now ablaze in full glory.

My hand pressed against the hot glass of the window, the red and blue lights from the fire truck flashed across the street but were dim against the blaze.

The street was littered with people, who somehow, had emerged from their houses, evidently more aware of what was going on streets away from them, when we unaware of what was unfolding just across the street from us.

The fire was hot and the flames were high, the fire fighters found it hard to get close, but the threat to our shop was minimal, it was a still night and they were able to contain the fire reasonably well, the old house behind the shop was well and truly alight by the time the fire was reported by a passing truckie.

An old, luckily diesel, pajero 4wd caught fire but they were able to save an old shed that stood back from the house and shop, so all that remained was the shed and an outhouse standing out proudly amongst the burning ash and rubble.

Once again we waited until the flames licked the dirt, I climbed back into bed but didn't rest until George was by my side. Waking only a few short hours later to open the shop, braced for the stupid comments about what happened, luckily we have only had a few, I smile and nod, no point trying to say anything.

I may have not spoken to late though, it may be the end of us time will only tell. Yesterday a young girl came into the shop and asked if I could change a $50 note into two twenties and a ten, I opened the till to have a look and told her that I was short of change and to try next door.

She walked out swearing "f*@k me" under her breath but purposefully loud enough for me to hear it, he friend standing in the door way laughed but told her to be quiet. I raised my voice after her telling her to come back and say it to my face. It's not something I would normally do, I usually let it slide and fume about it afterwards.

Thinking back, especially after the fire last night I recognised her and I know she is bad news, now I fear that she may have it in for us, she is not stupid, and it wouldn't take much to work out if you lit the old boarded up supermarket two shops down from us the whole street would go up, including us.

Someone else in town has recognised her and alerted the police as I assume she was a prime suspect in last years fire. At the moment they sit sentinel at the scene of last nights crime, I guess waiting for investigators to come and assess the damage and try to determine the cause of the fire.

So now we wait.

The aftermath of the fire 13 June 2010 approx. 4:30am

bright sky

Once you get past the rusty rooftops and tired looking trees, the world opens up to you when you look up into the sky.

At night the magic shines down on you, with more twinkling stars than you could ever imagine, thrown out across a think navy blue blanket. I love looking up, especially here, some can find beauty in the dusty ramshackle town, full of boarded up buildings and overgrown, broken down cars.

One thing is certain, out here, it is clearer than the brightest summers day, nature will always take back what is hers.

Leave something alone for just a moment, and it is gone, it may be revived with a little TLC, however once you leave it, it's no longer yours. She comes in and reclaims the space, a building can stand inhabited for hundreds of years but leave it alone for just a moment and it starts to crumble under her silent, gentle, beckoning force.

The sky here opens up and takes you away if you sit back and let it. I found a rare moment the other day after hanging out the washing on the line, to lie down next to the pool, on this warm wintery day, and look up at the big pale blue sky, not a cloud in sight with only the tops of the trees blowing gently in the breeze, the dusty yellow green in stark contrast to the milky blue.

Boogie lay by side me and for a moment everything was calm, a quietness that can only be captured in a moment of pure bliss.

Where is next door?

A man walks into the shop and asks about the daily paper. I do my best to explain to him that they come in the afternoon but couldn't give him a definitive time of there arrival.

Then he wants to know about where he can get something to eat, he asked about the bowling club, he appeared to already know where that was, so I told him that there was a take-away shop next door and pointed to my left.

His response, "oh the one on the other side of the intersection," um, no. No I said it is just next door, and again indicated to the wall with which the shop was on the other side of. "oh, so on this side of the post office?" No mate, it is literally NEXT door!... No I said, you just go out of this door, turn left and walk in to the next door you come across and it is right there.

"Oh" he says again, "I must have walked straight past it."

Bright.

Made with love

Yesterday George and I decided we would like a hamburger so we thought we would support our tenants and buy one from there. It turns out that on this day, our previous tenant was working for our current one.

Now I had a bit of a run in with her the previous day when she came in to buy her medication, I asked her something about a lay-by which I thought she still had here, not hounding her about it, just seeing if she was aware that it was still here.

Turns out it wasn't hers, a little mis-understanding, I hadn't actually checked the system before asking her, and she had collected her lay-by just the other day from George, well, she went on about it and was getting really concerned, even though I had already said that it was my mistake and had apologised, she kept going on about it, not twice or three times but probably about six times saying that it definitely wasn't hers.

Even George noticed her reaction was completely over the top, I was starting to feel really uncomfortable and tried to get it through to her that I was sorry, I had made a mistake, I didn't mean to upset her. It was borderline paranoia the way she was carrying on.

Our relationship with this woman has been interesting over the time we have been here, it was all gush and stuff when they were our tenants, then when they sold their business and left the premises she became very cold, and even a little withdrawn.

So I was a little anxious when George came back in after ordering our lunch to tell me that she was going to be cooking it, I joked with him that she would spit in my burger, even though she would never do such a thing, I was starting to think that maybe anything could be possible, the family is a little unhinged.

She was nice enough to bring our burgers in to us, I thanked her and passed George his and sat down to eat mine. On the wrappers she had written the type of burger, and underneath that was written "I love you."

I paused looked at George, he looked at his, and we both thought it was a little strange, not what you would expect as part of the order. I have never received a love note on my lunch before and I doubt that I will ever again.

Winter Clean

Today I found the motivation somewhere to do a 'winter' clean, I avoid cleaning the shop most of the time because it gets so ridiculously dirty in the most unbelievable amount of time.

Especially if it has rained.

I used to think that Georges parents were a little slack in the cleaning department when we first came here, not a topic I will linger on, however I have come to realise that for the most part this wasn't the case.

I can sweep the floor/dust the shelves and within a week it looks as if I haven't done anything for at least 6 months! No exaggeration.

"Clean country living" is a myth, in my opinion, considering I was told that I got asthma since I moved here, never before in my life have I had respiratory problems, and I was given a puffer!

Living on a highway, even in the middle of no where, the trucks bring the dust through town, and they don't always slow down, so it comes flying in through any little nook or cranny it can find!

The dust is unlike anything you have ever experienced before, it is so fine and powdery and the quantity is quite extraordinary.

So today I dusted, swept and vacuumed, the transformation is great! It is so nice to be in a cleaner environment, it gets to the point where you don't realise the filth you live in until it is cleaned, it must be like getting fat, a gradual experience and you don't notice until it's a little out of control.

I live in hope of trying to keep on top of things once a week, I know that more than likely, this is in vain. I have designated Tuesday mornings to this task.

We plan on sweeping and mopping on Saturday...

The problem is that some of our customers live on farms and get mud on their boots and tromp it all through the shop, some attempt to stomp it off on the footpath or wipe off big clumps on the mat at the entrance, which then gets walked in by others. It is unavoidable really.

It would be amusing but highly ineffective to ask people to take their shoes off at the door!

Even without muddy boots the dirt is unavoidable, in such a dry, flat, barren environment the dust will take a rest wherever it can from flying aimlessly through the air.

Dellaren is an ugly town, it is dirty not only is reality but it looks dirty as well, it lacks presentation, driving through, there is nothing at all to make you stop, unless desperate, or if you knew someone there, you simply wouldn't.

It is scrub country, and flat for as far as you can see, the horizon is only blocked by trees or buildings, there are no hills or mountains. And brown, everything is a dirty shade of brown, even the green seems brown...

I had to chuckle to myself one day, walking down the street to be passed by tumble weed making its way down the road. It was a quiet day in town which was even more fitting, like in the movies of a ghost town, buildings boarded up, barely a soul to be seen and a piece of tumble weed precariously blowing down the street.

It is reality here, boarded up and burnt down buildings included. If you see a trickle of liquid making its way down the footpath, it is more than likely from someone relieving themselves on the side of a building than a spilt drink.

On the upside, it is relatively safe, you would be better off stopping here than in Gullet or Dead Mans Gully, as long as you don't stay past sunset, unless you don't value your possessions, as in your car or your house/buildings.

It is not malice that drives most of these attacks, but simply drugs and alcohol. And the effects that these have on people.

So a little cleanliness can go a long way...

Customer's' of the Day

One man poking his head through the door to the shop:

"Where's the paper shop?"

Having a chronic gambling problem and having to use your Mastercard to buy the Sunday paper for $1.80:

Priceless

One of our favourite "grandsons" who just got his licence recently likes to make quite a spectacle of himself, this time taking off spinning his wheels, spitting up rocks in the street, smoke billowing out the exhaust pipe, speeding up for an intersection, rather than slowing down, the smell of burning rubber lingering long after he has gone.

It is only a matter of time.

Cold Sunshine

Dellaren is a town of extremities both with the people and the weather, the summers are scotching hot and the winters bitterly cold. There only seems to be only two seasons with only a slight graduation between them, some people would argue differently however and say that winter only lasts a few short weeks.

In the summer time it is hot and dry, being out in the middle of no where, they don't get the humidity that you find closer to the coast. The days can get up to 45 degrees Celsius, with little relief during the nights.

In the shop on these days all we have to battle the temperature is the big old double brick building and an ancient fan which has probably been there since 1938 when the building was constructed, it is surprising how good a job it does, when all else fails we can at least go out and jump into the pool out the back.

Now it is winter and it is bitterly cold, the nights here have been getting down to about -5 degrees with the days warming up slightly, inside the shop the building holds a constant temperature between 10 and 12 degrees, all day, everyday.

We don't bother heating it as it would be quite a task to accomplish, with 13ft ceilings and plenty of cracks in the walls, most we have managed to fill, old style air vents and an open door which the wind blows in.

So my only defence is layers, lots and lots of layers, I look like the michelin man! If someone pushed me over I would either bounce straight back up again or need someone to pick me up!

I get a lot of comments about the weather, I understand that for the most part it is a topic of conversation, I use it all the time to try and strike a conversation, most of the time it seems that our customers just say it for the sake of making a noise, with no desire to actually have a chat, or they are taking the piss out of me, because I am not from here, and obviously it doesn't get cold anywhere else in the world.

So while I cannot hide out in hibernation, I make the most of it and try to enjoy what I can. Ignoring the fact that while the sun shines in Dellaren, it is not cold. Apparently.

Everything

I will try to remember a few pearlers to put in. Not a day goes by when somebody hasn't said or done something completely ridiculous.
I think it was on a Sunday morning I was in the shop on my own while George had gone to do something, I was serving Veronica while I had another guy waiting, when Colin decided to make an entrance. He tripped on the step then missed the window trying to catch himself on the way down and went a over t in his olive green track suit and masseurs (shoes).
Trying to refrain myself from laughing out loud we all asked if he was alright, after Veronica let out a little squeal, he made quite a noise going down and I think he frightened her a little. Once she was satisfied he was OK she left and so did the other gentleman (who hardly ever speaks and when he does it so soft and mumbled you have to listen very carefully).
Colin collected his paper and said something about dropping by, I made a bit of a joke about making a new meaning of dropping in!
I was secretly trying to lighten the whole situation as this guy is a complete wanker and I wouldn't have been surprised if I'd been served with a law suit later in the week, luckily so far nothing has come of it, even though he tripped over himself I wouldn't put it past him to pull a stunt. It was very funny, it made my day, and even still makes me chuckle to myself when I think about it.
Sid aka Shitcan, the Pakistani man who owns the supermarket is a real piece of work, today he had the hide to tell me that I should tell my husband to be more friendly. Shitcan has never stepped one foot inside our shop, he has never bought anything from us, even through his lakies, yesterday he sent someone down to purchase a mobile phone for one of the workers he has caring for his wife. The stupid girl had come in the day before and was giving George a hard time, she couldn't buy $10 worth of credit for her phone, because it physically isn't possible, so she buys a $30 SIM card instead, how this makes sense is beyond me, but that's what she wanted so that's what George sold to her.
Later that evening Charmaine, one of Shitcans employees comes down with the little book that comes with the new SIM card, which explains step by step what to do to activate your SIM card, "oh George can you help us, we don't know what to do."
George opens the book and shows her that it is all written out, she felt a bit stupid. George was a bit impatient with her due to the headache that he had been given from the girl earlier on.
Then they came in the next day to buy a mobile phone but first they wanted to know what kinds of phones we sold and if they would work here in Dellaren, I am shocked at how many times we are asked this question, why the hell would we sell phones that don't work!
I explained what we had so she could go back and tell them, so they could tell her what to come back and buy, extremely stupid, if you want something just come and get it yourself!
So later on Shitcan sends down Kathy Puke and she waffles on with all the bullshit in world, she is rude to us but thinks she is sweet as pie, so George is rude to her, she is a piece of shit, so I don't mind, she always comes in and accuses us of stealing their magazines, she works for Shitcan who a few years ago decided to go up against Georges parents and sell magazines, sometimes the magazines go missing in transit, it happens to us all the time, she thinks we steal them off the delivery truck and hide them, childish.
She buys the phone and takes it back, then when I go into Shitcans to buy something today, he says that to me, George has to do all he can to refrain himself from going down there giving him a piece of his mind and punching him in the face.
Then when i get to the doctors surgery I have to take his wife's blood pressure and she asks me how business is to which I coldly reply that it is fine, when I really want to yell at her none of you f*ing business!
It constantly amazes me how rude these people are and how they have absolutely no concept of what is appropriate.

Lesbians

A patient came into the surgery today, while I was taking her blood pressure she proceeded to tell me that she had been sitting at home watching Oprah. I just smiled and thought to myself how interesting her life is, this patient a few months ago was very upset about having an appointment late in the afternoon because she would miss her TV show, Deal or No Deal.
She continued to say that toady's topic on Oprah was about a Lesbian! She paused after saying this word as it must be very foreign to her, continuing on she said that this woman had just broken up with her partner of six years, then she looked at the time and it was 1:30 and she though "oh I better get up to the doctors" she was so engrossed that she nearly missed her appointment! Small towns, small minds.

Mothers Day

Today is mothers day and we had the usual dribble of people through the doors, one of my favourites would be Flo, who, every Sunday waddles through the door and stops precisely in the same spot, in front of the till and waits.
Sometimes I play with the situation and stand there pretending to be oblivious to what she does, waiting for her to tell me what she wants.
But every week is the same; "two Sunday papers Kate," then she waits for me to go and get them, it is only a 2 metre walk from the till to the papers, however she expects me to go and get them for her, like I am her slave, not to mention the fact that my name is actually Katie. I find her extremely rude, but I always smile with indignation, she doesn't seems to notice.
Another Sunday regular is old Sid, who is pushing 90, a tiny old man. Short and thin as a rake, who would blow over in a breeze, he has but one tooth which sticks proudly out the front and a thick tuft of yellowish white hair which he combs back, he shuffles in ever so slowly, after getting off his little red motorised buggy.
Now even though he calls me Kay, I don't mind getting his paper for him, bringing it closer to the door, he is a gentleman and George has a lot of time for him and beside that we would be here until sunset if I had the patience to wait for him to get it, I fold it in half for him because I know that he isn't strong enough to do it himself, I pass it to him, he pays me and he tucks it under his arm, wishes us a good day and off he shuffles again.

The all time classic for today would have to be a middle aged man who wanders into the shop, not to buy anything, but to ask a question:
"Is next door open?"
Ah, OK... I have no idea I am in MY shop! How about you go and have a look! I was dumbfounded and George just looked at me in shock.
I politely suggested that he go and have a look. Why would you walk into a shop to find out if another shop was open, wouldn't you just try to go into the shop that you wanted to in the first place?
When I went outside to pull down the roller doors to lock up for the day and looked across to the take-away it was clearly open, their windows were open, the lights were on and it was full of people. It amazes me.

Another beauty was when someone walked in and informed us that the petrol station had run out of fuel. Now this is quite funny just on its own, a petrol station with no petrol, except that this is a regular occurrence.
'Dirty Dot' as the kids in town have affectionately named her, has the monopoly on fuel around here, it is the only place to get petrol for either 70 or 140kms depending on which way your going.
And Dellaren isn't the most exciting place to be stranded, the only place to stay is in the pub... or your Winnebago, if you should be so lucky, however you won't find anywhere to park it bar a truck bay, unless you want to try your luck down by the river, on the trail to the mission/reserve/camp, in the pitch black darkness of the night...
The locals are usually able to work manage to keep enough fuel in their cars to get to somewhere else to fuel up, not only does she frequently run out of fuel, she is expensive and extremely abrupt. I know people who will do almost anything to avoid going in there.
Being a business owner it is quite amusing that the basic principal of customer service is not being utilised, I know how difficult it is to be polite when people are rude, but I do it anyway. Rumour has it that she is not paying her bills which is why she is running out of fuel, everyone thinks she is going broke, she has also been accused of being greedy as she never changes the price except to put it up. She doesn't seem to comprehend if she lowered her margin but increased her turnover she would make more money.

I have to admit that I am a nameist, I find that as a broad generalisation it rings true, by this I mean I use people's names to judge them going on experiences of people I have met with the same name.
One example is Ken, my Aunt married a Ken who was a horrible man, short, fat with rosy cheeks and a glint in the eye that you just don't trust, she was blind to the way he looked at young girls, the tantrums he threw when things didn't go his way, or if somebody ate one of his Paddle pops or read 'his' daily paper before him, even if it was 3 o'clock in the afternoon. I can't explain it but I was never really a fan of Barbies Ken either.
Today a Ken came into the shop, another short fat man who rolls around. He only comes in to buy a Sunday paper and to order some medicine, for some reason we feel used by this sort of customer, hard to explain.
Flo is another one of these, we know exactly which people come in purely for this purpose and nothing else.
Today he was doing both, he bought his paper, then started saying he wanted some Progout, it took me 30 seconds to realise what he was on about, I was thinking to myself, what is progout? I don't sell that... then the light came on, I went to the box and pulled out the scripts ticked off the one he wanted and told him that there wasn't a script for the other one he wanted.
To which he started verbally abusing me, he only gets his them here so I will have to ring up the pharmacy and find out what was going on, the box told him that he had 5 repeats left yada yada yada.
I simply said to him, No, you will have to call the pharmacy and ask them, it has nothing to do with me, he was very off-put and said he would go home and get the box to show me. I told him to do that.
He came back 20 minutes later, a little sheepish, and apologised, holding the script in his hand. He had in fact ordered it though another pharmacy.