Blog - Page 7 of 18 - Margôt Tesch, Writer
February 12, 2014

Bush Fire at Spring Creek

Fighting breakouts

Fighting breakouts

We are facing a crippling season. Even the locals are saying things like ‘I’ve never seen it turn so bad so quickly’. Though we didn’t have such a bad year last year, the summer rains didn’t come. Instead the weather sent blazing heats and a relentless dry wind which succeeded in sucking the moisture out of the dams and turning the grass to dust.

Chris and I thought we weren’t doing too badly … emotionally that is. We accepted we couldn’t control the weather and had made some concrete decisions on a drought management plan, which we had implemented. But something happened which revealed the thin veneer of my apparent ‘coping emotionally’.

Just before lunch a couple of weeks ago, we got a call from our neighbour asking if we were burning off. Yeah, sure, in these conditions … NOT! Chris went up to investigate thinking it would be something minor, probably triggered by a passing cigarette butt. While he was gone, two more phone calls came in from two different neighbours advising they were gearing up to come and help. This was serious.

Our terrible season

Our terrible season

So came crashing down my thin veneer, tears flowed. How ridiculous, I know, but that is what happened. Chris came back to put together our firefighting kit – a water tank (which had to be filled), a fire pump and hose. I joined him and several neighbours to begin fighting and we inched our way to the front of the blaze. I picked up some branches and started whacking the burning grass line. Within 15-20 minutes I’d managed to sustain a nasty burn on my hand taking off several layers of skin! Can you believe it? Great Fire Fighter I make!

Party in the Street

Party in the Street

I’d also carefully selected a safety shirt (one of those fluro ones). I’d checked the label but it just quoted a number of ISO standards. Big mistake. The first ember melted a hole in the sleeve, blistering the skin beneath. Great Fire Fighter I make!

After that, I decided it was wiser to work with the hoses. It wasn’t going too badly and a few hours in we were winning. That was until a nasty blustery north-westerly pumped up the whole situation. I was watching a stack burning at the time, mesmerised by the raging flames rising with frightening intensity. I’d never seen a fireball before, but I did that day. The fire, well fueled by an old timber stack and a raging wind, turned manic in seconds. The flames took on a life of their own, became their own entity seemingly devoid of the fuel, the wind catching up balls of intense heat and flame, throwing them metres away where new breakouts appeared. Oh my!

More reinforcements were called in. Within a short space of time it jumped the road into Inverary Station and jumped the fence into Fox Gully where it raced away terrifyingly quickly across David Yates’ grazing land, taking out kilometres of boundary fence.

Fortunately, due to the support and good work of all and a blessed drop in the wind, we halted the progress later that day. About 9 pm we felt it was safe to go home, the cooler night air helping to calm things. But that was when it struck me how such a crisis draws a community together like no other. We all live remotely and don’t see each other from day to day. But that day, we had worked hard together with a shared purpose, fought a battle, thwarted a crisis. No one seemed eager to leave (though no doubt the dozen stubbies I had thrown in the car on an urgent trip to the house may have helped). Maybe I’m not such a hopeless Fire Fighter after all?

Lost pastures

Lost pastures

Mick’s wife Deb turned up with a few more beers and some sausages and mashed potato. We hadn’t eaten since breakfast. We had a little party in the street!
Eventually we broke camp and went home with promises to return early in the morning.

The fire was fairly well-behaved the next day, inhibited by the fire fighters constantly dousing any new breakouts. In the late afternoon the wind turned to an easterly which, while a little worrying, turned the fire back onto itself. It spread no further and rain the following day put it out for good.

I was left awed by the support of those around me, relieved it was over and equipped with better skills for next time … which I hope never comes.
The battle with the season continues but I’ve managed to stop the tears, at least for now.

February 5, 2014

Change is in the Wind

The Lodge

The Lodge

Have you ever thought much about the generational gap? Does it really exist in this information age with new emerging technologies?

This Christmas just gone, Chris and I had the extreme pleasure of flying across the globe to spend a week with our four children, their partners and our grandchildren in the Arctic Circle in northern Finland. We stayed together in a “lodge”. We planned the event over three years and were thrilled to have such a special, treasured opportunity.

It was the first time we had all been together in the one dwelling with our children as adults, the eldest 32 and the youngest 24, with their partners. There was much to think about when I came home, most of it warm family memories. But I was also moved to contemplate my role in life as grandmother, anew.

Uncle Danny

Uncle Danny

I’m 56 now, a well-adjusted empty-nester. I pride myself on staying abreast of change and remaining relevant to the younger generation. I accept changing cultural values as inevitable, embrace them even. I perceive my children as being not much different from me, though I’ve been aware at times that they may not share this same sense of equality. It seemed easy to delude myself … because deluding myself I was.

Being with the family for such an intensive period was actually a little confronting. For the first part, both Chris and I were a little shocked at the change in our social status within our “tribe”. Chris really put his finger on it when we got home. They don’tneed us anymore. Wow. That’s good, but also confronting.

Warm Family memories

Warm Family memories

But further reflection on the week had the impact of unveiling my delusion that the generational gap didn’t really exist for me. It is as wide and broad as it has always been and I’ve been extremely naive to think that it wasn’t. Of course the kids were never under any such delusions.

The best example I can think to demonstrate the point is … it’s all in the ‘wind’. Wind is a topic my generation is most likely to avoid and yet it’s a topic our children don’t avoid, but accept openly. Actually they haven’t even grown out of finding it hilariously funny! Of course I’m talking about … farting!

I’ve witnessed this change and thought I’d accepted it openly as I watched the younger generation’s open honesty about their bodily functions. They give due warning when unpleasant smells are involved, display a willingness to take ownership for the most part, when accusations are raised. It all seems so much healthier than our ‘pretend it didn’t happen’ approach which borders on complete denial. ‘Fart’ was a very rude word, even taboo, when I grew up. Even now, though its usage is pervasive, the word still grates.

After living with our children for a week, I came away realising that while I accept these changing cultural practices and am no doubt more relaxed than my parents, I don’t really partake in them. I continue to stoically remain in the tradition in which I was raised. The children, sensing our different perspective, never really share with us the same way they share with each other. It’s an instinct, I guess. (Wasn’t I the same? … der!)

New Year's Eve Antics

New Year’s Eve Antics

So there you have it … the generational gap. It’s alive and kicking and always will be. I’m sure my kids were never in any doubt, more fool me.
The experience made me think about how we must so imbibe the value systems of our time as we grow up that they become part of our fibre. (No wonder the social science research centres identify unique names for each generation.) Of course I acknowledge that it must be possible to change but … it’s darned hard, harder than I realised. Perhaps it’s not worth the effort for such a relatively trivial topic … or is it? I wonder if I had the courage to pull down some old boundaries, where it might lead? Do I want to? Should I?

No, I’ve elected to remain comfortably settled in my Baby Boomber status. I will never breach the generational gap … and that’s okay. It’s the natural order of things. But, I still can’t help wondering how far the next generation might take this freedom of expression? I hope I at least get a peak, as it will be very interesting to see indeed.

Life goes on and though changing cultural values emerge with each generation, the fact that the older generation struggle to adapt, shall never change.
In the meantime, I shall remain as open and communicative a Baby Boomer as possible.

December 5, 2013

Diversity of the bush

Flat tyre ... again!

Flat tyre … again!

One of the fascinating aspects of our new lifestyle is that the daily routine is so often unpredictable. We do plan of course … every Sunday over roast dinner we discuss the week’s activities. But a plan in the bush is only ever a loose guide as it can all be thrown to the wind.

Perhaps it rains (to be so lucky) or there is always the threat of the inevitable flat tyre. The Traprock can be unforgiving in more ways than one!

Check out the nail in the Quad

Check out the nail in the Quad

This is even worse if it happens to a tractor tyre. The tractor not working is very serious, as it means no ability to put out bales of hay/feed for the stock, no way to unload deliveries or move heavy objects around … the list goes on. No tractor can be crippling to a day’s work.

Or your day might be disrupted because you find the stock are on the road, or in the neighbour’s or worse, the heifers are in with the bull … they do go looking for trouble!

Perhaps the Jehovah’s Witnesses turn up at the door. Can you believe it? They come more regularly than you would expect … driving for an hour or more to say “Hello” and basically chat about nothing and leave some literature which is destined for the burn bin before they have reached the gate. Why do they bother? Actually, last time I asked them not to come any more. Chris made the mistake of engaging them in philosophical discussion for sport one visit. Regrettable! He became a target, then, identified as someone ‘searching’. Little did they know he’d hide when the car pulled up at the gate after that.

Water trouble

Water trouble

Sometimes the extreme heat can drive you inside forcing you to abandon a more physically demanding task. We’ve been severely dehydrated on more than one occasion. It can creep up on you without you realising. In winter a nasty bitterly cold wind can keep you in, though Chris often goes out regardless.

You might run out of fuel and need to order a new delivery. Can’t do much without diesel to run the vehicles nor unleaded to run the pumps, bikes etc.

The days we pray for

The days we pray for

There may be no running water in the house or the other day the waste water wouldn’t drain away. Problems like that can’t wait; they take over.
Or there might be a power outage … that can be crippling – no internet connection, no two-way radio! As our water pressure relies on a pump, no power means no running water in the house – no shower, no water to re-fill the toilet cistern (eek). At least you can plug in a crappy old phone for emergencies.

But despite all these intrusions, you know what? The awesome thing is that it doesn’t really matter. This lifestyle means we can be adaptable and let our day develop anyway it wants. It just means rearranging a few priorities. As long as it gets done, it doesn’t really matter whether it’s today or tomorrow.
Wouldn’t change it for the world … my day is my own and I love it.

 

October 24, 2013

Country Women and their gardens

13-Array of colour1 smlMany country women take great pleasure in their gardens. It’s one thing I’ve struggled with in coming to live in the bush. I’m not a keen gardener as I’d rather be in the office writing. But I’ve worked at it (with some help) and I have to say after five years, my garden is gradually improving. This year some visitors even commented, “Margôt, the garden is looking lovely.” I was very proud as no one has ever said that to me before!

Contrasting Colours

Contrasting Colours

But today I had delight in sharing my neighbour’s triumph for a little while at “Cooinda” near Stanthorpe. Margaret Finlay’s spectacular array of colours and hidden delights took my breath away as I explored her substantial garden (which has grown over the years requiring the garden gate be pushed back again and again).

As I wandered, enjoying Margaret’s “contrasting colours” which appear random but I’m sure have been meticulously placed, I couldn’t help noticing the birds darting and diving around us chorusing the crickets and cicadas. I wasn’t the only one enjoying the garden. I’m told sometimes they are so loud it’s difficult to talk!

Margaret followed along contributing the names of the plants and telling me the story of her garden which echoes the story of her family. The Finlays have had their fair share of tragedy in recent years including losing a daughter and daughter-in-law to cancer. Her garden has become, in many respects, a memorial, nurturing family tributes to members now lost, amongst gifts from concerned loved ones and family eccentricities.

Gum tress subsumed

Gum tress subsumed

The garden has become Margaret’s life. It’s her work, her hobby, her passion … her retreat. I can’t see me ever achieving anything so heart-stopping at Spring Creek Station but I have to admire what Scott and Margaret have achieved. They’ve created a garden that the family loves to share for weddings, parties, barbeques, tennis tournaments. I imagined imbibing a casual glass of wine amongst the beautiful gums that have been gradually subsumed and provide a stunning contrast to the shrubs and bushes set around them.

It’s impossible not to be infected by Margaret’s enthusiasm. She made me realise a good garden is a learning journey: what works where; the importance of mulching, when to touch and when to leave alone. I shall have to visit again soon. I only scratched the surface!13-Montage of blooms

If you are interested and live nearby, they are having an open garden on 2nd and 3rd November (http://www.opengarden.org.au/regions/qld_calendar.html). It’s $7.00 entry and proceeds raised support Kim Walter’s Choices Program based at the Wesley Hospital in Brisbane. I guess they wanted to give back a little. They certainly inspired me.

Margaret and Scott

Margaret and Scott

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