when the postie knows your name

I came home yesterday and logged onto FB.  I had a message from a friend here.  She had written that she had just been at the local post office and noticed a package addressed to me that hadnt been delivered.


"oh yes" ... said Chris, " the post office manager came by this afternoon and knocked on the door.  (He lives three houses down ... I knew that because several people had filled me in on who now lives where.)

"there is a package addressed to Jenny Cork 64 Callala Australia.  is that you? its from Norway.  can you come and collect it tomorrow before it is sent back?"


The package has been sitting there a couple of weeks because it had no street address and the post office manager is new to the area.  It was going to be 'returned to sender' because he didn't know - but, thankfully, my friend Lynda stepped in and got the message across to him and to us.

... and I suspect it is NOT from Norway (although we have several people who had been to Norway recently - both Australian and German friends).  I think it is from my Danish friend Ann-Berit ... those Northern European countries are all the same, aren't they?

yep ... its wet

Last night I lay in bed waiting for the big winds to come.  It rained.  Boy, did it rain!  It bucketed down for hours and hours but the huge winds that, in our area, are the thing that cause the most damage, never came.

That meant that my trees are still standing and no branches have fallen.

Of course, further north, the story is much different to that and its hard to imagine that this country, so often ravage by fires and drought, is also the victim of flooding from violent storms.

The rain does mean that I will have to find a lawn mower ... and soon ...

its the dumb questions you have to ask

Having just spent 7 years in a country which takes their public holidays very seriously, its hard to work out what effect a public holiday has on life. 

Australia Day long weekend.  Australia Day is always 26th January.  This year it fell on a Saturday.  In D'land that would mean that the shops would be shut.  Commercial life would stop and everyone would duly go celebrate with loved ones in an appropriate manner (using involving either cake or beer, preferably both).

Here, the long weekend is a sacred thing - so Monday has been declared a holiday in addition to the Saturday.

So what happens here?  Three days with no shopping? Shopping on Saturday but not on Monday?  Or visaversa?

I really didn't know and didn't want to assume. So I asked around at uni.

My fellow students looked at me rather curiously when I asked them when the shops would be open over the weekend.

"Normal times ... duh!"

Normal times? So shut on Sunday, shut on the holiday?   No! No! No!  Open ALL the time!  For example, Officeworks (D'landers insert Staples here) is open Sunday 9am-6pm AND Monday (the long weekend Monday) for the same hours! (and they were open Saturday as well).

My whole family raised their eyebrows at this information.  Shopping?  Everyday?  Even on special days?  No hoarding ... no panic buying ... no grabbing the last milk from the shopper next to you? 

Not sure how we will deal with this information.

mateship

Its Australia Day.  A day where journalists explore the notion of what it is to be Australian.  One senior journalist has written about mateship - about how we, as a nation, help one another when needed; how its not just institutional but very personal help offered by individuals to those around them.

How very true.

Since our return, I have been overwhelmed by the offers of help I have recieved from my friends here in the area. People have dropped off unwanted sofas for us to sit on (they left them on the front lawn!). Some strong (and tall!) friends then got the sofa upstairs for us! Others have loaned camping tables and chairs.  Friends put together a care box of things we needed in the kitchen.  All these individual gestures - the support and the help - have made our restart here just that much easier.

When you a new - brand new - to a community, you don't have that help coming to you.  It can be tough.

I should remember that - help those who are new - not just your friends - because moving really is one of the toughest things you will ever do.

starting back

People say you should never go back.  You should never return to live where you lived before. Never search out the friendships you once had.  This is the story of my journey back - back to Australia, back to Callala, back to my family, back to my house, back to my friends.  It is about journeying back to study - to study officially many of the things I have learnt over the many years of teaching.

My journey has meant leaving people very, very dear to me far behind in a cold, distant land.  My friends brought warmth to the grey, damp days that northern Europe had to offer.  They brought sunshine to my life when I most needed it.

This blog is to help me chronicle my journey - to discover what is new in this old life of mine, to discover whether is really is possible to go back again.