And with that - she is gone...

I have departed Australia on May 1st and returned to Canada on a semi-permanent basis. What does this mean? It means I'm here for a year or so until I figure out what my next adventure will look like. I'm wrapping up this blog as my Australian adventure has ended. Check out my new blog for what my return to Canada has been like and for details of what is in the wind...g'day mates!

Wrapping Up Life in Oz

So my time here in Australia is coming to a close after 4 years of adventure down under. I leave the country in about 35 hours headed for home. I have found a new home for Dundee with a family of four who emigrated to Australia from England last year. They had to give up two kitties to come here (quarantine is just atrocious here not to mention the long flight) so it just felt right. They have a big house with a big yard in a quiet neighborhood, so he will have plenty to explore. I was able to go back and visit him and he seemed quite settled and a bit nervous when I went to leave like he didn't want me to take him away and stuff him in that car again, ha ha. I spent some time with his new mistress and she is quite taken with him. He really is a lovely kitty, and though I am sad to see him go, I know he will be loved and treated well.

I'm in my apartment for the last night, surrounded by piles of crap, my baggage, and my temporary bed - air mattress covered with my foamy - the foamy I had in the Karma van actually, it has served me well. I will drop it off tomorrow at the home of one of the ladies as I think they could use it in the living room since they have no furniture and sit on the floor. Most of the cleaning is done, and I should be able to finish up in the morning. I have to lug everything down to my car, but it won't take too long. My suitcase and backpack are quite heavy and I expect I'll be paying extra for them, but it was unavoidable. I will be traveling for 4 months so needed to pack for that, and I am mailing out 5 boxes of stuff I could do without until I settle down in Edmonton. I'm also a bit of a clothes hog...

I have a busy day tomorrow - finish the cleaning, lunch with my bestie, henna on my hands with the ladies, supper and drinks with the friend I'm staying with tomorrow night, and a bunch of errands sprinkled in there somewhere. I will be so very happy just to get to the airport and checked in. Then I know there is nothing else to be done but fly home. I just hope our plane doesn't disappear...yikes...my mother is meeting me at the airport, and a little bird told me there could be a couple others. I arrive at midnight Friday night, and with customs and baggage, it will be a late night, but I just wanted someone to be there. After all, I've been gone for 4 years and haven't seen my mother in 5 years. I am so very looking forward to that momma hug!

I thought about writing a retrospective about Australia, but think I'll wait until I'm at the airport looking for something to do while I wait. Then my head will be a little more clear I hope and the words will flow...

Sewing With The Ladies

So I've been selling most of my things before leaving Australia to move back to Canada and one of my favorite items was my sewing machine. I listed it on Gumtree (like Kijiji back home) and before long I had two very orthodox Muslim men show up to buy the sewing machine. They wanted me to demonstrate the features of the machine, and then they tried it out themselves, speaking among themselves in their own language. it was a bit surreal for sure, and I thought that was the end of the story, however it has evolved into so much more. 

Some days later, I received a phonecall one evening from the wife of one of the men who came for the machine, and she said her husband bought the machine for her to sew but she had not sewn with one before and was having trouble with the stiches and the thread breaking constantly. This is a common problem when the machine is not threaded properly, or the settings are not set up properly for the type of fabric or stitching desired. She had found my name written on the box so called me to ask for help. I attempted to help her over the phone, however it was difficult as I couldn't see what she had done, and she couldn't describe accurately what was happening. I asked her where she lived and it was just one suburb away, only 1.5kms so I told her I would come over and go through the operation of the machine with her. She was quite happy about this so I drove on over and was greeted by a lovely young woman in full Muslim dress as well, without the face covering. She and her friend were trying to sew, but the machine kept breaking the threads. I had a look and it turned out they were using the embroidery stitches and stepping too hard on the pedal, so the machine could not keep up and snapped the thread. They did not want to embroider, simply sew straight stitches, so we sorted that out and the machine sewed well after that. We then visited for a time while 5 children were milling about the room, getting into things, needing their mother's attention. S  owned the machine and had 4 boys aged 1, 2, 3, and 5 while the other woman had a 6 month old boy. When I told them I had been sewing for many years and that I had made many different things such as dresses, quilts, clothing, and so on, they were quite impressed. A had sewn before in India, but with a different kind of machine and had taken no real lessons. They hauled out a huge bundle of lace curtains and said they wished to make dresses for themselves out of the lace, with a lining attached. They did not have fabric for the lining so would have to shop for this. The curtains were not particularly suitable for a dress, but then we agreed it might well be a practice dress and they could buy different fabric to make the real dress. We then wrapped up the conversation and I went home. Shortly after I arrived at home, S called me and asked if I could come back tomorrow to show them how to cut out the pieces for the dress. I told them sure, no problem, given I am not currently working and finding the days rather long until I return home to Canada. 

The following day I headed over and spent the day with the ladies and their 5 children while we made up a pattern for a dress by tracing around another dress onto the lace and onto a sheet I had brought to practice sewing with. I had brought a large box of crayons and some paper to keep the children busy. We saat on the floor as there was no table and chairs, nor was there living room furniture other than a couple of side tables. They had many questions about sewing and sewing tools such as straight pins and a stitch ripper. A could not speak much English so S translated for her most of the time. She could understand much of what we talked about but could not speak much other than a few words here and there. The hours passed and we were able to cut out the lace pieces and the lining pieces out of the green sheet I brought. We needed a zipper to start with so we organized to go to the shop tomorrow to purchase a zipper. Then they surprised me with some supper - noodles and vegetables, which were tasty enough but oh so hot and spicey! S said she did not put much chilli in it but it still burned my mouth. They did take pity on me and gave me a fork to eat with out of my own plate while they gathered around a big plate on the floor and ate with their hands as is the tradition in their culture. Along with my plate of food they gave me a bottle of Coke, which was rather odd, but much welcomed to settle down the fire in my mouth. At one point one of their friends came in for a short visit just before I was leaving and was insistent that the lining should be white, even after I told the ladies it would look like a western wedding dress. The ladies agreed with me, despite their friend's protests. 

The next day I returned and it was agreed that I would run out to pick up some zippers and come back and sew together the bodice. They had never sewed in a zipper or used a zipper foot attachment on a machine so videoed the entire process to help them remember. They did this as well when we were cutting out the pieces. They had also spoken to their husbands about what we were sewing and the husbands found it rather hilarious that we were making dresses out of curtains. They told them they were foolish and that they would be happy to purchase nice fabrics to make beautiful dresses out of. The ladies then explained that they would simply practice with the lace and sheets so they would know what to do with nicer fabrics. S's husband told her he was going to stand her in front of the window in her curtain dress. I showed them photos of Scarlett O'Hara in her curtain dress and then Carol Burnett's spoof of Scarlett's curtain dress with the curtain rod left in. We all had many laughs over this comparison, particularly given Scarlett's dress was also green! We were able to finish the bodice pieces, sew the zipper in, and before we knew it, the day had passed again. I was unable to come back the following day because I had my apartment sale for most of the day so we made plans to continue sewing on Sunday. 

We discovered that A lived just one street away from me and wanted to attend the apartment sale to see what I had for sale. She and her husband arrived at the sale and her husband spoke very good English. He told me that he was so very happy with A's mood and attitude this week as she had been very shy and quiet since arriving in Australia last year and he worried for her. He said that she has been talking non-stop about me and about sewing and how much she wants a sewing machine, so he went out and bought her one and surprised her with it that morning. A was very excited about this surprise and could not wait to get sewing with it. Then she proceeded to buy over half of what I had for sale - I did give her some great bargains as I was anxious to move things along so I didn't have to box it all up for Salvos. (Second hand store run by Salvation Army). She was very excited at all that she bought and how generous her husband was. He talked a fair bit about how shy A was even in the hospital when she gave birth to their son, and would not speak to the nursing staff. Now she is talking a great deal this week and he knows it was because of our sewing lessons together. This was a proud moment for me, to have inspired this shy woman into opening herself up and voicing her needs to her husband who bought her a sewing machine simply because it would make her happy. She also showed me a little girl's dress that she and S sewed the night before after I left, using the techniques I had showed them. A was so excited to show me a photo of it. It looked great! 

I was unwell on Sunday to agreed to come over on Monday. We were able to finally finish the dress and everyone was pleased with the results. The dress did turn out well, however it wasn't anything I would ever wear. The process was more about teaching them various sewing techniques such as hems, zippers, easement, gathering stitches, finishing the edges with zigzag stitches, and so on. S tried the dress on and showed me how it looked and it fit her perfectly. She was very happy with the dress and didn't think that it looked like curtains anymore at all. I have to agree! They fed me once again, this time with potato and rice pancakes, and spicy potato and some kind of peanut sauce, which was far too hot for me, but the pancakes with potato were quite good. 

All through the sewing lessons we also learned a great deal about each other and our respective cultures. Both women were happy to openly discuss what it meant for them to be Muslim women, and what the traditions were. S's husband did not want her photographed by anyone so I was not able to take a photo of her with the dress on. Instead she hung it on a hangar and we photographed it that way. Her husband also did not want photos of his children taken either, however they are able to facetime with family back in India and Saudi Arabia. S and A told me all about their traditional arranged marriages. For S, her father answered an ad in the newspaper that her husband's parents had placed, looking for a wife that was a certain height, weight, and willing to move to Australia and have children. For A, her parents met her husband locally and chose him for her. Neither woman saw their husband until after the marriage ceremony when she would see him for the first time. There was also a dowry that was expected from each bride - usually their bedroom furniture, and a certain amount of clothing - saris. Both women spoke about how strange it would be to have a "love marriage", and that they trusted their parents to chose a good husband for them. 

When I went back to sew for the third day, the desk we were sewing at was moved to another window. I was told that the window we were in previously faced the mosque and that other people could see in through the window and S's husband did not want her to be seen. While we are in the house with just other women and children, they are not required to cover their face, and seem quite happy to take off the chador as well, so have just a head scarf on with their saris. S then explained to me that there are only four types of men that can see her face and hands - her husband, her father, her brothers, and her male children. There are also very clear rules about who may touch who as well. Her husband must not touch any other woman than his mother and sisters and his daughters. He is not permitted to touch his sister-in-laws or to speak to them, and S is not permitted to speak to or touch her brother-in-laws or her father-in-law. He is also not permitted to touch any of his neices on either side. I realized I came close to breaking those rules when I shook A's hand as she came to my apartment sale, I was going to shake her husband's hand but immediately got a read that it shouldn't happen, so backed off. Good thing too as I wouldn't want to offend him or my new friends. 

We also had a discussion about the idea of sewing and how S's mother-in-law was very unhappy that she was learning to sew as she felt she would not be able to sew and to look after her four children, and wanted S to give up the sewing because her grandchildren were more important. I was happy to hear that S refused to do this and assured her mother-in-law that her grandchildren were well taken care of. She said she had to tell her mother-in-law that I gave her the machine, and that no money was wasted on it. She then told me that she had to confess this to her husband who was unhappy for the lie, but will not make an issue out of it with his mother. S told me her mother-in-law wants to know every dollar that is spent and must approve of her daughter-in-law's purchases when her husband was away. It just so happened that S's husband was in Canada for meetings for the rest of the month. She spoke about feeling quite lonely with him away as it is too difficult to get out with her four young children, given she does not yet drive. She would like to learn so I encouraged her to seek driving lessons as she said she already knows her husband will be yelling the instructions! I told her this is pretty common among western couples as well. She chuckled at that. 

We also talked about how they feel when westerners do not want to be near them, shy away, won't talk to them, and think they are terrorists. I told them that while I understand there is a great deal of racism in Australia (it is quite ridiculous at times) but I think part of the issue is that most communication among westerners depends on body language and when the entire body, including the face, is covered - we cannot easily tell if they even want us to speak to them, whether they are happy or sad, and if they want to be approached. It was interesting to note that while outside the home and among men who are not in their four categories of being permitted to see their face and hands, they are fully cloaked from head to toe, but then at home, the face is uncovered as are the hands, and at times the headscarf slips off while working and it is not immediately put back on, and both ladies were breastfeeding and just whipped out their breasts to feed the babies, sometimes taking care to lift their headscarf over the breast, but not always. 

The ladies had many questions about western women and had no idea what dating meant - they thought it only referred to sex, so I explained that one a little better, although many dates may end in sex, heh heh, and how things have changed over the generations with regard to our own traditions of marriage, virginity, sexual education, chaperoned dates, etc. It was so interesting to speak with them, and I think both sides were quite uninhibited in our questions which was great. I was able to gain a very unique inside look into their culture with no judgement imposed by either side, simply an exchange of information among women. A's husband commented while at my place for the sale - how do you know what she is saying when I do not speak Urdu (their language). I told him simply - we women have a short-hand that trancends the spoken language and I had come to know his wife over the past week as we spent many hours together (6-7 each day!). Much of our communication had been hand guestures and I've always been pretty good at interpreting body language, and she has had her face covering off all week while we were together. When she arrived at the sale, she took it off immediately. 

The ladies wish to know how to knit next, so I will spend more time with them. They also want to send to India for a sari for me, and have invited me to come back to visit the day before I fly out so they can do henna on my hands as a going away present. Lovely! 

These last months have been very lonesome for me and often times quite a struggle to get through each day with my anxiety however spending time with these ladies this past week has been an amazing adventure and I am forever grateful for having met them and taken the time to show them what I could. They presented me with presents yesterday, a bracelet, earrings, scarf pin, and a shawl, all from Saudi Arabia. 

Final Weeks!

I am nearly counting the hours...cannot wait to get home to the motherland! I've had my first apartment sale, and the last one is this coming Saturday. I've managed to sell a great deal of my things, most of the stuff worth anything much, with just my bed, sofa, and fridge to sell for some good coin, and then all the little tidbits, odds and ends. What doesn't go this weekend will be dropped off at the nearest Salvos (Salvation Army Op Shop aka second hand store). Then I'll be pared down to the sofa and fridge, and whatever is going with me in my suitcase and backpacks. I have held onto a few basic dishes to get me through. I've cleared out most of my kitchen cupboards of food - no more baking or fancy cooking. I'm not sure if all of my stuff will fit in my suitcase and backpacks, so might do a dry run after the yard sale when there's not much left in the apartment to get in the way. 

I have weeded through my clothes and most all that I have left is what I'm taking with me. I have taken 4 bags to Salvos, and another big bag to my friend with the bus. I had entirely too much clothes, and yet I'm still buying more. Much of what I wore here though is not that useful in Canada as the weather will never be as hot as Australia, so no need to slog it across the Pacific Ocean. I'm also not planning to work in government so got rid of all that stupid clothes I bought for work and replaced it with clothing that is more my style - bohemian/hippy. I have ditched all my tiered skirts though as they were just too long and I kept tripping in the damn things. They weren't able to be hemmed as they all had edging and lace. Just as well - too much fabric in a big tiered skirt. I also embraced the "fisherman pants" and find them quite comfy. I've been stocking my closet mostly from a shop near here called Tree of Life. They stock their items from Asia and Indonesia where they have contracts with women who sew the items. I like that. 

I've finished with work. I've decided that I cannot return to work before going home. My anxiety is just not settled enough and I struggle just to enter the building. My last technical day of work is April 30th. I'm having a going away party at St. Kilda beach, but not really inviting anyone from work. It's a long story, and not one I want to write about here. I don't expect a big crowd as I hadn't made many friends here in Melbourne. Most of those coming will be friends I made in Alice Springs that have since moved here. I've been knitting up a storm for months now, and have all but wrecked my poor hands with it. I have carpal tunnel syndrome that has flared quite badly now, and I have numbness most of the time whether I'm knitting or not, so need to take a break from it once I've used up the last of my wool. I have a ton of yarn left but posted an ad on Gumtree and already have someone who wants it, so will post that out tomorrow. I love knitting so much though, and hate idle hands, so not sure what I'll do with them after the wool is gone. 

So the countdown continues - not long now! I hope the weeks fly by, as long as I'm able to keep up and get all my shit done. There's still cleaning the apartment, dealing with my car, and many calls to services and companies to redirect my mail, bills, etc. Then I'll be on vacation for a few months and loving it. 

34 Days and Counting

Well, the time is drawing near for my flight home to Canada. Just 34 days before I land in Halifax. I cannot friggin wait. It has been a very rough patch these past few months, but with just under 5 weeks until I leave, there is light at the end of the tunnel. 

As some of you are aware, I have been struggling with PTSD these past few months and have not been back to work full-time since before Christmas. The road has been rough, and I've felt so very isolated and alone here in Australia, so far from family and long-time friends. The road to recovery has been bumpy and I'm just not sure where that road will take me or if I will be the same person I used to be, or if I want to be that person again. What I do know is that I am not likely to ever work in child protection again, and I'm not sure I even want to work or can work as a social worker again anytime soon. So I will be looking at some other options upon my return to Canada, and will be weighing them all. For those of you who have sent well wishes, kind thoughts, a quick hello, or a long thoughtful message, thank-you. Your support has been very much appreciated. 

Now that I'm on the home stretch, there is still so much to do - I have to find a home for Dundee, sell/return my car, finish selling off the rest of my stuff, mail my boxes home, call to cancel all of my services, organize to do something with my mail, and so on, and so on, and so on. I wish I could just wiggle my nose and be landing at Halifax airport riight now, however the east coast is still being battered by snowstorms, so I'm much rather be here in Australia for a little while longer to enjoy the sand and sun. I have had one apartment sale, and sold a bunch of stuff on Gumtree, but there are still piles and piles of stuff left to go. I've given a great deal away, and there have been many people looking for something for nothing, as usual. I'm currently trying to sell my sewing machine and people are trying to make me feel like they are doing me a favor by offering me a fraction of my selling price. I bought it 3 years ago half priced for $150 and am selling it for $75 with $60 as my lowest price. Someone got quite shitty with me when I wouldn't take $30 for it. The machine is in excellent condition and looks brand new, with the box and manual. WTF, I'm not running a fucking charity here. I'm trying to raise money to live on back home, and I'm not willing to just give shit away all the time. I'll just be glad when it's all done and all that is left here is my suitcase and backpacks and what fits in them. I reckon I'll pick up an air mattress for the final week as I'll need to move on my sofa and bed - they are the last big items, besides my fridge. I can do without the fridge in the last week as I'll just snack and eat out. There are shops and restaurants within walking distance here so easy as. 

It has been hard to let go of everything - it isn't a materialistic feeling, but just yet another loss. I'm sitting in my near empty apartment that has been stripped of all paintings, photos, posters, etc - in other words, personality. The only things left on the wall are my map of Australia and a photo I rescued from my desk at work of Cinq Cerf. The rest at my office were ruined when they ripped them all off the walls in my absence, but that's a story for another day. I'm still so very angry about it and will wait until I leave the country for that tale of woe. 

The days have often been long and seemingly endless. Cabin fever is real, but it has been a battle of cabin fever versus anxiety. As much as I am tired of this tiny apartment, I'm not always in the mood to leave the apartment and get rather anxious about it at times, and in the end, just stay home. I don't want to have a panic attack in public again, and feel very vulnerable when I'm out and about. It may well be an ongoing battle, but I sure hope it improves when I get back on Canadian soil. 

So that's the latest. I may post about a few road trips I've taken this past month but for now, I'm off to bed, glad to see the end of another lonesome day at home with kitty.

Gumtree Sucess

I began selling off my belongings through an online service popular in Australia called Gumtree. Very much like our Kijiji back home. I was able to sell all of the furniture easily so far. I have only bare bones left now, my sofa, bed, television and camping tables/chairs, and my coffee table. I've bad people traipsing through my apartment for weeks as I sold as much as I could to those who stepped inside. I'm only mailing back 3-4 boxes to Canada, and the rest will have to fit in my suitcase and backpack. So that leaves me with a WHOLE lot of household stuff. I feel like I am living in a yard sale, with boxes and bins of stuff everywhere. I've packed all the artwork, so the walls are very bare. I've left my map of Australia up as I'm going to take that on the plane with me so I can show my mother where I've travelled. 

It is an emotional thing to let go of one's things. Some items, no worries, move that shit on. but others that just made me feel happy, like my blue cabinet I found in an antique store in Victoria, BC. And  my sofa. I just love my comfy sofa. I'll be reduced to clothing and souvenirs for the most part, awaiting my next home to settle into. I'll be spending two months on the east coast, sharing my time among my friends and relatives. Then off to Vancouver Island to spend the summer living in the Karma van again, based in Victoria. I will at least be able have my own bed and space in the Karma van. I remember sleeping quite well in there. I'll be living out of my suitcase and backpack for about 4-6 momths depending on when I am able to pick up a bus and get to work on my winter home. 

Surrounded by the piles and boxes of stuff is hard for me. I prefer things to be organized, tidy, and aestically pleasing. The only thing in my bedroom is my bed and a milk crate with my lamp on it. The sooner this part is completed, the better. I'm planning on an apt sale sometime next month to move the last of it all on and I'll get by with my sofa, fridge, and a place setting of dishes. I cannot wait to get settled into my completed tiny house bus with everything in it's place again, surrounded by those favorite things that remind me of the adventures I've been through. I've tried to keep my souvenirs to a collectable standard - not too heavy or big, and easy to transport. So I have a lot of tiny figurines made of metal and stone, paintings and cloths for the walls, and a small collection of books. Then of course there is my jewelry/ While my collection is not worth any great thousands needing insuring. they are a a variety of stones, crafted glass, and other interesting bits, like a piece of a topographical map with tiny golden flake attached to the map where it was found and enclosed in a tiny glass box. My daughter has given me most of them, and she always seems to know what to get me. I lost a few in the fire, but she has more than made up for it since then. I saw a neat way to store my necklaces behind a box-framed artwork on hinges. I'll be searching for the most space saving ideas in the bus. 

I'm still off from work. It has been a rough road, hardest I've travelled in many years, but I am still standing and determined to look after myself and have been doing a great deal of soul searching these past months. I try to explore somewhere new when I can, but it hasn't been as easy as it once was. I did go hiking in the Grampians to a place called The Pinnacle, and was quite proud of myself for making it to the summit in spite of my asthma, poor fitness. and anxiety. Then of course I rolled my foot on the way down. I scrabbled the last bit before it began to swell as I did not want to be stuck on the mountain! I saw several lizards scampering about, many birds hunting from the sky, and a handful of other hikers. 

Let The Mess Begin

And so it goes for moving, weeks of mess, living out of suitcases and boxes, with piles for several destinations, finding a place for everything and handing the keys back to the estate agent. I'll walk out the door with a suitcase and my backpack. I'm sending about 4 boxes ahead to my daughter's place, with the few personal items, mostly souvenirs and books, artwork. It is not an easy task as I'm using many of the items up to the last week. I don't want to live like I'm camping though, so I'll hang onto a few things to the last days. I'm selling some things online through gumtree (like kijiji back home) and planning an apartment sale for a few Saturdays in April. Even though I've done this several times before, it doesn't make it any less daunting. It is acheivable, but exhausting. Pack, sort, sell, give away, throw out, send by sea, and so on. I'm not just moving onto a new town, I'm repatriating back to my home country after an absence of just over 4 years. I  couldn't be happier. So I'll take the mess, the chaos, the hard work, and all those bits and pieces (an Aussie term) as I bid a fond farewell to my home of 4 years. Australia, it has indeed been a slice, and then some. But I'll save that for another post closer to departure time. 

Dundee enjoys the mess of moving, as would most cats - boxes, paper, plastic, new smells, old smells, a changing environment. I'm going to miss that little bugger. Again, I'll leave that for another post. The back to work plan is being reevaluated, so in the meantime, I'm distracting myself with making the mess, as well as researching tiny houses and bus conversions. There is a lot of information out there, and doing my conversion over the coming months with the goal of being in by Christmas, I'll be living out of suitcases, boxes, bags, and surrounded by mess for the months to come. I'll have to find ways to minimize and organize the mess as it will surely drive me crazy otherwise. And then with any luck, it will be my final unpacking for the forseeable future. The bus conversion/tiny house is part of my longterm goal of freedom and independence to follow my own paths. I've missed having a home of my own to customize - loved my house in Newfoundland for that reason - I designed it for us. 

I'm tiring of changing my living environment so frequently as I find it exhausting both physically and mentally. I just want a place to call home that I can move to be wherever I want to be and still have an affordable and comfortable home. I had thought I could do this in my VW Camper, aka the Karma bus, however it was too small for my needs and not having a toilet/shower meant I had to depend on a serviced site for those services. I prefer to be off the grid as much as possible, using solar and potentially wind power to charge the batteries. I am looking at using propane for cooking, on-demand hot water, and heating, with a woodstove to supplement heating. I also want to source the most efficient way to supply air conditioning off the grid as well. Part of the long term goal is spending only 6 months per year in Canada, and the other 6 somewhere south of WINTER. This is why I need the mobility. With being able to function off the grid as much as possible, I can keep my costs down to the bare minimum, making it possible to work for 6 months of the year in Canada, and then travel/live somewhere down south during the winters, escaping snowdom. I'll have to suffer through the next winter as I can't possibly have it completed in time, and want to spend one full year at least with my girl in Edmonton. Hence the wood stove. All I need to move in is the bathroom and the woodstove. The  rest can be completed over the winter. I've still got the VW Karma van to travel around for music and camping while the conversion is in progress. 

The choice for a school bus style conversion came after doing a bit of research. The typical Canadian school bus from a rural setting is what I'm seeking. They tend to have strong body, good suspension and able to handle the rugged terrain of country roads. The squared off buses ride too close to the ground to be able to handle the bumpy roads I plan to travel on at some point, particularily south of the US border. A stripped school bus can potentially give me 35' x 7'5" x 6'5" interior. It's a low ceiling, but I'm short, so there is plenty of clearance for me. I'm not planning on standing up all day. School buses are constructed to be much stronger than the average manufactured RV, which have been referred to as tin cans. I'm ok with the shape of the bus. A low ceiling means cheap to heat. Those tall ceilings of the loft tiny houses meant an upstairs bed - hot as hell, and heat loss from the main floor where I would spend most of the time. The bus can also be longer than a typical tiny house, at 35'. That gives me enough downstairs room to enclose a sleeping chamber for myself. I don't need a full bedroom. Just a bed I don't have to navigate stairs or ladders to get to. And a short distance to the toilet. Funny what things become more important when designing a living space as one ages. I had initially thought about a slide away bed but then realized I don't want to have to move stuff to go to bed, or to put the bed away. I want it just to be THERE. I can build a ton of storage beneath it, and I don't need a full ceiling above my bed, so will utilize what space I can based on the quirky spaces that are available around the wheel wells and other stuff I'll be trying to hide in the cabinets - batteries, inverter, power controls, pipes, wires and so on. 

So that's the latest on the project, ha ha. Stay tuned for updates about the Nomad Project at my new blog, judesnomadproject.blogspot.com. I'll be closing this one down after I depart the land down under on May 1st. The posts will remain, but I won't be adding any new posts. Thanks for reading these past years. I have a few posts in me yet for Australia, so keep on reading. 

Australian Retrospective

This was me in April of 2011, just a couple of weeks after arrival on one of many bush trips to the outback. It seems like a lifetime ago. I was an investigator at the time, working on a team with Northern Territory Police, so most of our bush trips were in police vehicles, but we had something much more comfy than this Toyota Hilux. We usually had a Toyota Prado, which is a much nicer ride. Oh the sights we saw on those bush trips...dust storms, whirly whirls, bushfires, camels, kangaroos, lizards, snakes, emu, dingoes, wild donkeys, wild horses, abandoned homesteads, and so much more. It was an experience of a lifetime...

Settling into Australia was rough at first - I was homesick, I couldn't find the foods I liked, I didn't have my kitty, I was learning a whole new child protection system, and was broke as shit after travelling for a year and the NT Gov took their time paying me my salary and my settling in money. It wasn't long before I met who was to be my closest friend here in Oz. She started the same week I did and we sort of fell in together and discovered we were "old souls" and kindred spirits. Now when I think about the adventures we went on together...crazy! This photo is of us on our way to Palm Valley which was at the end of a very tough 4WD track. We got bogged twice in sand, but only needed a tow once. We also hit some ricks on the left side (aka my Canadian side) but otherwise, survived our first bush camping trip off the beaten path. 

F. and I camped all over the Territory, and during my first year here, we struck out for Cambodia, stopping in Bali and Kuala Lumpur, having one of the most epic adventures I've had. We laughed and cried together, shared our work and personal life stresses, drank the nights away in our courtyards, discussing everything under the sun, from our teen pregnancies and our resulting daughters, to comparing life in Canada to Australia. I hope she comes to Canada to visit me someday, as I would love to show her my country. 

Those initial months in Alice Springs opened my eyes to a whole other world. The Aboriginals of Central Australia were so very different from Aboriginal people of Canada that I was so familiar with. English was not their first language, and usually not their second or third, however the most striking difference was the living conditions. For the most part, the families I had worked with back in Canada were usually quite clean, with minimal rubbish and state of disrepair. Here in Central Australia, the homes were by far the filthiest and most disgusting I had ever come across. From piles of rubbish strewn about the yards and within the home, to the feral flea infested dogs, to the feces smeared on the house walls, both inside and out, to the cockroaches crawling EVERYWHERE, to the unimaginable stench of the unwashed bodies. And by unwashed I don't mean a bit of body odor from perspiration, I mean clothing that has not been washed in months, and bodies that have not been washed in weeks or months as well. Someone explained that they excrete goanna oil which adds to the pungent stench, but for the most part, it was simple filth. I could never understand why things were the way they were. For the most part, most parents did not work in paid employment, and were on Centrelink Benefits (like welfare) aka "sit down money". And sit down they did, playing cards, sleeping, drinking, chewing the fat. 

Some of the highlights from those experiences were quite memorable - my first home visit in the bush - we did not enter the house most of the time as it was not culturally appropriate, not to mention there was usually no furniture in there to sit on anyway. So we squatted in the dirt under the shade of a gum tree and talked about the concerns. Neighbors and family members wandered over and left again, and we were very popular with the feral dogs. And by feral, I mean flea bitten, half-starved with ribs showing, covered in tumors and infection, riddled with mange and who knows what else. On one trip, I was chased by a pack of dogs and the police I was with had to throw things at them to keep them from attacking me. On anotther home visit, one bit me on the calf of my leg. Then there was the dog in Ntaria aka Hermannsburg. We had pulled up to a house to check on a family and noticed a dog laying in the dirt next to the front step. Usually the jumped right up and surrounded our cars, hoping for food, or picking the dead birds out of our front grills. This one didn't. So I nudged it with my shoe...it was dead as a doornail...oops..then the family came home, I told them about the dog...the father went to the rubbish bin. looked inside, and proclaimed - he'll fit in there...and got back in his car and drove off...

I remember another bush trip where we were caught inbetween burnt out grounds and a whirlywhirl that scooped up the soot into a black tornadolike whirl. (They are something like a dust devil). We sat in the car while it passed over us, and I filmed it. There was another bush trip where we stopped in a riverbed for lunch and happened across a trail of caterpillars - it strung across the entire road, thousands of caterpillars. 

Once I left my government job and went to work for NPY Women's Council as a domestic violence worker. With that job came even more bush travel, which was just awesome. Most of my bush trips took me to South Australia, but I also spent some time in Western Australia, and southern NT close to Uluru. Bush travel for NPY was usually all week, so meant overnights. That was when I became acquainted more closely with a swag - which is a bedroll that is quite popular in Australia. The padding was quite thin, so I usually carried another foamie with me to pad it more. Usually we had housing to stay in, but not always, so we sometimes slept outside under the stars. I remember one trip when I was taking 3 of the ladies to the AGM nearly 900kms of bushroad away. We couldn't make it all in one day as the ladies were very nervous if I drove over 45kms/hr...so it was a LONG drive. Without any booked accommodation, we slung our swags out in someone's front yard. The tenants offered me a bedframe to put mine on so I wouldn't be down on the ground, which suited me just fine! I did however wake up to two kitties sleeping on my bed. The ladies treated us to somethings wonderful along the journey - they sang inma as we passed their traditional homelands - inma is songs in their native languages. They also sang a variety of hymns in their language. It was quite special, I have to say. We were treated to even more at the AGM. (Annual General Meeting) which was a gathering of ladies from all three states, known as APY Lands. The groups of ladies would just bust out in inma here and there and at night, we gathered by a giant fire and danced traditionally and sang in the moonlight around the fire. It was part of the reason I came to Australia - to experience the culture first hand. It was in those moments that I forgot about the smells, the filth, and the piles of rubbish. In spite of the horrid living conditions, these people had such vibrant spirits and personalities that were a delight to get to know. I learned some of the language, and a great deal more about the culture.

I remember another bush trip where we had two flat tires on our 4WD and the right sized jack didn't work...so we macgyvered a solution - we found a big square rock and put it under the small jack and continued on. And then there was the bush trip that came with significant rains, filling the many floodways, and creating the hugest of puddles, some as long as 3 football fields. I was initially apprehensive at driving through them, particularly as I was on my own for most of the trip, but before long, I was smashing my way through and loving it. There was a road train stuck in one of the bigger puddles, blocking the entire road. Not to worry, an Aboriginal family waiting ahead of me suggested making our own damn road, so that's just what we did. They were driving a Holden Commodore, which is NOT a 4WD, but it didn't matter. I created the road up over the dirtbank at the edge of the road, and he shot up over the bank in his car, and I followed right behind. We broke our own ground through the bush for about a kilometre around the bogged truck and the many vehicles trying to get him out, and then popped back down on the bush road again. No worries!

I've seen a great deal of Australia, both by air and by road. We often took the police plane to remote communities when we could, and the plane would wait for us while we completed our investigations. On one trip the police escorted 5 prisoners back on the plane - they had been remanded at the local circuit court earlier that day. I got to sit in the front, so was able to take some amazing photos while sitting in the co-pilot seat. We even flew over the space base aka Pine Gap. The Americans have a military base there and non-military folks are not permitted anywhere near it. There are several radars and satellite dishes as it is the only place in the southern hemisphere in this neck of the world where they have a base. I've driven on thousands of kms of bush road, some in my own vehicle. On one bush trip with my sister, we drove the Great Central Highway, 1100 kms of desolate bush road through the centre of Australia into Western Australia. It was amazing. I've driven the Great Ocean Road, the Stuart Highway, and so many more. I've been to every state except for Tasmania, and each one has it's own beauty. The red dirt, the bright blue skies, the surprising green of the desert, the abundant wildlife - it will be sorely missed. The weather here is what I will be thinking about as I freeze my ass off in Canada next winter...but I won't miss the sizzling heat of Central Australia.

Patience is a Virtue...and Sometimes Very Hard

So I've been off work for the past several weeks due to trauma/stress at work as I wrote in my last post. I've been seeing my psychologist weekly and working through the issues, however it has not been an easy ride. For anyone who has ever been diagnosed with a mental illness, you will understand that recovery is not on any timetable. I know this but yet I struggle. Up until yesterday, I had not had a panic attack or any anxiety symptoms for two weeks, so went back to my doc and told her I was ready to return to work. We then hammered out a return to work plan that would gradually see me back at full-time work. Management decided that it didn't make sense to reallocate my cases back to me given I would not be full time until early March and I am finishing up in April. Initially I was a bit miffed about this, feeling like it was a punishment for being unwell, however I understand the reasoning, and once I had time to think about it, I don't mind as much. Let someone else deal with the verbal abuse from clients, and deal with the red tape. So instead I will be finishing up my own paperwork, notes, and filing and then supporting my team with their paperwork. If you 've ever worked in government, you know just how much paperwork there is. We kill trees daily.

So I was feeling pretty good about returning to work next week, and felt happy that I had finally turned a corner and the anxiety was gone. Then yesterday happened. The day started out fine - it was payday and I needed a new battery for my car. There is a auto repair shop right across the street from me, so off I went to buy my battery. They wanted to charge me $44 to jump start my car so I could bring it across the street to have them install my battery...um, no way man, I can install a battery. How hard could that be? Turns out Toyota had more in store for me. The last time I replaced a car battery, all that was required was to disconnect the leads and lift it out, replacing it with a new one. Not so with my Rav 4. There is a bracket holding it in, and the bracket is connected to an engine shield that needed to come off first. The engine shield was secured by severall little fasteners that I couldn't quite work out initially, even with the owner's manual. I finally managed to sort that out, only to discover they had sold me the wrong battery. So off across the street I went again, lugging my battery. The terminals were on the wrong side and the leads would not reach them. Back again with the leads, and put it all back together until I got to the fasteners. They wouldn't secure in - first I thought I must have broken them all but after some trial and error, profanity, and dumb luck, I figured them out and secured it all back in. The car started right up and I was happy. Until I realized that all of my electronics had to be reset - the clocks, the stereo, and my bluetooth. The clocks were easy as were the presets for the radio, but the bluetooth was an absolute bitch. After nearly 30 minutes of stuffing around with it, I could not get it to work properly. The display said it was paired but it wasn't working. That's when hell broke loose. For whatever reason, this prompted an absolute tantrum - there I sat in my car in the parking lot of my building, SCREAMING and crying, nearly hysterical and out of control. WTF? Over a stupid thing like bluetooth. I managed to finally collect myself and gave up on the stupid bluetooth and started out for the shopping centre for some groceries and other things. 

Within minutes of entering the store, my anxiety began to rise..pounding heart, struggling to breathe easy, tears welling up, shaking hands and unsteady gait. WTF again? It's a bloody grocery store - what on earth was the possible trigger this time? I tried the breathing techniques my psychologist had shown me, but it was too late - the horse was out of the barn.  I managed to speed through the rest of the shopping, and got the hell out of there and sat down in the mall. I still needed to go to the fruit and vegetable market at the mall, so tried to collect my shit once again so I could at least finish up. Several minutes later I was able to get up and enter the fruit market, whipped through my shopping there but the panic was rising again and I barely made it out to my car. Sat in the car for several minutes, sobbing like a baby, unsure what the hell was going on. Several cars stopped to wait for me to pull out, thinking I was leaving so they could take my space. I ignored them all. I finally left the parking garage and headed home, sobbing all the way. 

So that was the morning...I decided to take a valium that the doctor had given me but I hadn't felt the need to take until now, and laid down for a nap. When I woke up, the anxiety had settled some and the afternoon was uneventful, that is until I left for my psychologist appointment. He sees me at three different locations, and the one I had to go to yesterday was a bit tricky to find. My GPS on my phone kept taking me to the wrong place, so I had to call the office for additional directions. Enter hysterics...Australia is big on roundabouts, and Melbourne is big on confusing roadways. Sometimes a given roundabout can have 5 or 6 exits, with 2-3 lanes shooting off everywhere. Then there are crosswalks partway through, or right before, or right after, and divided roadways, with slipways off each side. I was in rush hour traffic, and utterly lost. I fell apart on the phone to the receptionist, like litterally fell apart - sobbing hysterically, couldn't breathe, worried I was going to smash into someone while I fumbled around trying to find the office. I had left in plenty of time but now I was going to be very late. I was hyperventilating, shaking, crying, and god only knows what I said. I finally managed to find the office with the receptionist's help, and stumbled into my session an absolute mess. I sobbed all the way through my session, choking and gasping for air while he tried to calm me, and debrief about it all. What a damn mess I was. 

All in all, it was an exhausting rough day. Just when I thought I was making progress, I relapsed big time. Now I am worried that I am going back to work too early.  I've since talked it through and reckon I need to slow down and stop trying to race through my recovery, or my life. Mindfuless is such a valuable thing, and after a cuppa this morning with a good friend, he informed me that my mind is in overdrive at the moment and I need to slow it down. He told me it was as obvious as a dog's balls...hilarious. So thhen I thought about it, and I don't know about you, but I have fallen into what could be a troubling behaviour of multitasking through my life. Such  as when I'm at home watching tv. I'm not just sitting down watching television and that is all I am focused on. In this modern age of social media and eletronics, what used to be a single activity has become only a component of how that period of time is spent. I'm also knitting something, playing a game on my iPad or checking Facebook, reading emails, chatting with someone online, texting someone on my phone, cooking and eating supper, and playing with the cat. And many nights I'm also thinking about the families I work with. I've become too efficient at living my life and it is overwhelming me. Whoa there...

Welcome 2015

I apologize for my long absence from blogging, probably the longest since I first began blogging in 2003, 12 years ago. Hard to believe it has been that long, but there you have it. There is much I want to write about and much I can't. I haven't been blogging for a few reasons - haven't really engaged in anything interesting worth writing about, and I have been absolutely swamped at work in the months leading up to Christmas, working late nearly every single night. By the time I get home, the last thing I want to do is get on another computer. 

Now things are a bit different. For those of you not on Facebook that stop by here, I am currently on extended sick leave for awhile due to a work related trauma. I had been working with a challenging family, and on just before Christmas, there was an accidental infant death. The family fell apart, and I wasn't much better. I had been assaulted by the father the previous month, and the parents had been pretty verbally abusive at times. Until the death, I had been managing the stress well enough, but it seems it was an accumulation of trauma as well as some key events that led to my current state. I began suffering anxiety and panic attacks that were just out of control so took a few days off. Those few days turned into a week, and then another week, and now I've been off since the 18th of December, nearly a month. Interestingly enough, my complete meltdown happened on my father's birthday - December 18th, which is the day before mine on the 19th. December 18th was also the day of the funeral. I can't write further about the case due to confidentiality, however I did want to give a bit of background to what's happening.

I'm currently seeing a psychologist to get this stuff under control, and medication has been helping somewhat. I thought I was ready to go back to work, but after going in for a few hours, another panic attack...so I came home. I'm working on breathing techniques and meditation, so I'm hopeful, but right now, it's very challenging. There are several triggers, and I don't always see them coming, which has been a bit scary for me, not being in control. I don't know if any of you have ever experienced a panic attack or have lived with anxiety, but it is quite unpleasant. For me, it starts with a heavy feeling sitting on my chest, and then my breathing becomes troubled, almost like an asthma attack - I feel like I can't get enough air, and then the tremors and shakiness start, and I feel like I want to jump out of my own skin. I nearly hyperventilate, and then I start crying, sometimes sobbing  out loud. For a control freak like me, it is very distressing not being able to stop it. I'm hoping with time, the breathing exercises will help, as well as the medication, and therapy. 

Today has been a bad day. It should have been simple - I headed out to do a bit of shopping at the mall up the road from me. I was fine in the grocery store and fruit market, no issues. Then I went to the craft store Lincraft (like Michael's but with fabric too) and while wandering around looking for what I needed, I walked through the scrapbooking supplies. Then without any warning, I began feeling very anxious and had to get the hell out of there, barely made it to my car before the panic attack came on and I was sitting in my car in the parking lot sobbing. WTF? I think it was a trigger for me to see the supplies - I had briefly thought about my own supplies, of which I had quite a bit, but lost all of them in the house fire in 2009-10 (New Year's Eve). I've been depressed from time to time about the losses in the fire, and haven't had the heart to build up my craft supplies again, particularly the scrapbooking stuff. My question is this though, why now? Why today? I've been in dozens of craft stores since the fire, usually for knitting supplies, and have not had any issues whatsoever. I wonder if it was because of my very vulnerable state at the moment, and because I have never really dealt with the losses that came with the fire and in fact, the losses that came in that 4 month period. The death of my father in September, the closure of Grand Bruit decision in October, and then losing nearly everything I owned in the fire on New Year's Eve. Who really knows? The mind is so complex. Then I went out a little while ago just to pick up milk and a pizza. Nearly fell apart, anxiety swamped me, and I have no idea why. What possible triggers could be at IGA and Pizza Hut? All I know is I barely made it home without falling apart, though I did have quite a bit of anxiety in the car, cried a little, some hyperventilating. Weird. 

I'm off until early February as it stands now, unless my psychologist thinks I'm ready sooner. I'm seeing him weekly for now, so hoping to make progress. Now the question comes - how to fill that time. For the first few weeks, I was quite a mess, so didn't do much more than watching television and knitting. 

Now I have a new passion - I found out I can take my pension funds with me when I leave Australia. I just have to prove that I've left, and they will tax them, and then release them. I should get about $20,,000 which I then plan to invest in a tiny house on wheels. My short term plan is to park it in Edmonton where I'll be living for the next few years, and then possibly look at working only for 6 months of the year in Canada and then tow that tiny house down south to escape the Canadian winters. I should be able to make enough in 6 months to live on for the rest of the year, especially if I don't have rent or a car payment to make. My friends are giving the Karma van back to me, so I'll have a vehicle to drive. Stay tuned for developments with the tiny house. I will be either starting a new blog when I get back or revisiting one of my old blogs, Under the Sky. I usually start a new one with each new adventure, so we shall see. Maybe I'll call it my Prairie Prattles or something like that. It is the last area of Canada that I haven't lived in - the prairies. I've lived on each coast, in the middle (Ontario) and in the frozen north (Yukon and NWT) but never on the prairies. Of the 13 provinces and territories, I've lived in 7 of them and visited 12 of them. Nunavut is the only one I haven't traveled to, but that may come if I look at term work. 

Now just because he is so darn cute and has been such comfort during this rough patch, here is a photo of Dundee!