The missus has gone away for the week on a camping trip with her Year 9 class (she's a teacher rather than a pupil).
Experienced the usual feelings of looking forward to her going so I could have the place to myself and be done with the last minute packing and shopping followed by the equally familiar feeling of loss as soon as the plane leaves the runway.
Not quite sure what that means but it doesn't seem too bad at first glance.
Anyway, I've got a growing list of jobs totalling seven so far and hope to be a beacon of achievement over the coming days as there are only 18 more cheese-days until I leave.
I'm really looking forward to (a) stopping work, (b) leaving the island, (c) seeing friends and family, (d) having fun.
That's not to say that fun is a wholly alien concept, I had fun last night when we went out for a meal with Drew and Beck our most excellent neighbours. Roast quail followed by a fish platter featuring oysters, crayfish, prawns and some white fish. It was fun but it would be nice to be anonymous again for a while, go to a restaurant without meeting loads of people you know, go to the shops without chatting to a dozen people before you've got half way around.
I acknowledge that it is also a good thing but as I say with cheese related work, change is good. It may not mean that the thing your changing too is any better than that which you've come from but it sho is good to do something different.
Monday, November 29, 2004
Sunday, November 28, 2004
No Comment
At the funeral last week of the young man killed in a car crash the choice of music was as follows.
1. Walk Like An Egyptian - The Bangles.
2. Who Let The Dogs Out - Baha Men.
1. Walk Like An Egyptian - The Bangles.
2. Who Let The Dogs Out - Baha Men.
Saturday, November 20, 2004
Funereal
The funeral of the young man killed in the car accident over the weekend was held today. I had just finished work and had hitched a lift back to town only to find myself wandering infront of the funeral cortege. I almost ran to avoid it but I wondered afterwards why that is.
I think I didn't want to be seen in a relatively cheery state by the grieving families and friends but I also didn't wqnt to see them. I imagine that the driver of the car was among the mourners, possibly even in what appeared to be an honour guard of his footie club mates who were at the head of the mourners directly behind the hearse.
It made me feel sad again, not because I know him or anyone directly associated with the accident but because there will inevitably be so much pain and anger concentrated in such a small area.
I think I didn't want to be seen in a relatively cheery state by the grieving families and friends but I also didn't wqnt to see them. I imagine that the driver of the car was among the mourners, possibly even in what appeared to be an honour guard of his footie club mates who were at the head of the mourners directly behind the hearse.
It made me feel sad again, not because I know him or anyone directly associated with the accident but because there will inevitably be so much pain and anger concentrated in such a small area.
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
Another Death
Another young man lost his life early on Sunday morning. He was a passenger in a car which hit a pole and I don't think it would be libellous to suggest that alcohol abuse was involved.
Without wishing to sound trite that's another couple of families left in tatters, another dead youth on an island with precious few young people, another man presumeably due to spend several years in prison, haunted by the sobering image of his dead friend.
It's part of the culture I'm told and while the police are concentrating their efforts on the no doubt admirable (although entirely futile) aim of stopping young people drinking and taking drugs they may do better to encourage the adults to moderate their behaviour and set a good example.
I sound like an old tosser.
Why is that I wonder?
Without wishing to sound trite that's another couple of families left in tatters, another dead youth on an island with precious few young people, another man presumeably due to spend several years in prison, haunted by the sobering image of his dead friend.
It's part of the culture I'm told and while the police are concentrating their efforts on the no doubt admirable (although entirely futile) aim of stopping young people drinking and taking drugs they may do better to encourage the adults to moderate their behaviour and set a good example.
I sound like an old tosser.
Why is that I wonder?
Monday, November 15, 2004
Correction
After all that it was apparently a Sea Elephant so it should really have looked like one of these. But it didn't have the elepahntine nose which means it's probably female.
Or male.
Or young.
Or old.
Or a southern sea elephant.
Or a deformed sea elephant.
Or a sea elephant with an exceptionally small nose.
Or a post rhinoplastic surgery sea elephant.
Last I heard it was still alive which will come as a great relief all the sea elephant lovers tuning in. Apparently there's a fairly good chance people have been harming it. It's eye was puffed up one day and a previous visitor to these shores was shot dead, presumeably by someone with a sea elephant grudge.
Asking for it he was.
Or male.
Or young.
Or old.
Or a southern sea elephant.
Or a deformed sea elephant.
Or a sea elephant with an exceptionally small nose.
Or a post rhinoplastic surgery sea elephant.
Last I heard it was still alive which will come as a great relief all the sea elephant lovers tuning in. Apparently there's a fairly good chance people have been harming it. It's eye was puffed up one day and a previous visitor to these shores was shot dead, presumeably by someone with a sea elephant grudge.
Asking for it he was.
Thursday, November 11, 2004
Sea Lion
After a glorious day of de-hooping, cutting half mooms, salting, turning and stirring down (in that order) I went to the beach to see a sea lion. It was a bloody monster, I've no idea how much it weighed but it was about 10 foot long and probably about five foot wide at it's largest point.
It's been there for some time and pretty much everyone on the island appears to have visited (according to the tyre marks along the beach) but no seems able to agree on whether he's dying or just relaxing.
He's losing his fur which would probably be about right for the time of year but he seems to be uncomfortable which may be becuase people like myself keep going up to him and pointing cameras at him. His eyes are bloodhsot and his arse-end is covered in an orangey pooh but otherwise he seems pretty neat and tidy.
He looks a bit like this but once we get the pictures developed I'll upload a more personal image.
I hope he's alright (he may actually be a lady lion as he had a fuuny hole).
It's been there for some time and pretty much everyone on the island appears to have visited (according to the tyre marks along the beach) but no seems able to agree on whether he's dying or just relaxing.
He's losing his fur which would probably be about right for the time of year but he seems to be uncomfortable which may be becuase people like myself keep going up to him and pointing cameras at him. His eyes are bloodhsot and his arse-end is covered in an orangey pooh but otherwise he seems pretty neat and tidy.
He looks a bit like this but once we get the pictures developed I'll upload a more personal image.
I hope he's alright (he may actually be a lady lion as he had a fuuny hole).
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
It's a disgrace
I know, I know.
I've no excuse for failing to add to my previous entries but I just haven't felt inspired and have felt time to be a rather more precious commodity of late.
I seem to recall making a list of future areas of exploration and for want of something better I'll start with the first one which was Death On The Island.
I was being driven to work just after 5.30 on the morning after the AFL Grand Final. We had only been driving for two minutes when we came to a Police roadblock which may be a familiar sight to those of you living in communities with more than one Police car but around here it is quite something. We we're turned around and told to take a detour as the road was closed. Sarah, who was giving me a lift, asked what had happened and was told that there had been a hit and run.
I assumed that it was one of the casual workers who stand on that section of road every morning in the hope of thumbing a lift from one of the line of cheese workers fortunate enough to have a car but once we arrived at the factory no one in my department was unaccounted for.
News trickled in as the day progressed. We heard first that the victim as dead and subsequently that he was a thirty six year old man. We also heard that he had been hit at around three in the morning but hadn't died until five. This was gruesome news but seemed unlikely as it would be hard to verify as the driver had not been found.
For someone in such a small community to hit a pedestrian and not stop is quite unbelievable, the chances of getting away with it must be pretty much nil as there is no way to get a car off the island other than on a weekly cargo ship and judging by the paint markings which the Police used to illustrate the path of the deceased's body the car would be clearly damaged. (Having said that, most of the cars here are fitted with roo-bars so perhaps there wouldn't be too many indications of the event).
We break for lunch at around ten and it was then that the news started to go around that it was a cheese factory worker who had been killed. I didn't know him but he was called Boags, named after a Tasmania beer. Although scant details have been published of the case it appears he was making his way back from the pub sometime after 3.00 am and was hit by someone leaving town, possibly coming from the same pub.
Drink-driving is pretty much accepted over here. I don't like it as I've been successfully indoctrinated by the many drink-driving ad campaigns in the UK but no one here seems to give it a second thought. Several people are caught and banned but I've heard rumours that they are repeat offenders or behaved in such a way as to give the Police no choice in the matter. One friend of mine told me that he was driving from the pub to the club (which is a distance of something like fifty meters) when he was stopped and when asked to get out of the vehicle he was unable to stand up. It would have been a bit difficult to turn a blind eye to such excess but as there is no public transport and only one cab people who live out of the main town have little choice if they want to drink and get home.
Boags' girlfriend worked in the factory also so there were quite a few upset people once the news started to spread, I decided to finish my lunch early and get back on the factory floor and out of the way.
We were called in for a "huddle" which is (in my opinion) a reprehensible euphemism for a meeting and were told by the manager that we should look out for one another and that anyone feeling unable to work should speak to their boss and then go home.
On the next day they organised for someone from the hospital together with the local vicar to come and give a talk on grief counseling. The counselors were rather taken aback with the number of people who attended the meeting and opened with a comment about how popular Boags must have been, little did they realise that we weren't told it was a meeting about Boags, we were just told to go to another 'huddle'. I was impressed however with the effort put in as it wasn't what I expected from the management of the factory.
It was a couple of days later that the driver was revealed. He was a local man (as opposed to Boags who hadn't lived here for the mandatory five generations in order to qualify as local) and unsurprisingly used to work at the cheese factory also. We've not heard anything since so I presume more will be revealed when it goes to court.
Boags' funeral was in Tasmania and a couple of the workers attended. They also had a ceremony for him down at the dock which was apparently pretty well attended. I haven't heard his name mentioned since although it's still written in pen on his locker.
I've no excuse for failing to add to my previous entries but I just haven't felt inspired and have felt time to be a rather more precious commodity of late.
I seem to recall making a list of future areas of exploration and for want of something better I'll start with the first one which was Death On The Island.
I was being driven to work just after 5.30 on the morning after the AFL Grand Final. We had only been driving for two minutes when we came to a Police roadblock which may be a familiar sight to those of you living in communities with more than one Police car but around here it is quite something. We we're turned around and told to take a detour as the road was closed. Sarah, who was giving me a lift, asked what had happened and was told that there had been a hit and run.
I assumed that it was one of the casual workers who stand on that section of road every morning in the hope of thumbing a lift from one of the line of cheese workers fortunate enough to have a car but once we arrived at the factory no one in my department was unaccounted for.
News trickled in as the day progressed. We heard first that the victim as dead and subsequently that he was a thirty six year old man. We also heard that he had been hit at around three in the morning but hadn't died until five. This was gruesome news but seemed unlikely as it would be hard to verify as the driver had not been found.
For someone in such a small community to hit a pedestrian and not stop is quite unbelievable, the chances of getting away with it must be pretty much nil as there is no way to get a car off the island other than on a weekly cargo ship and judging by the paint markings which the Police used to illustrate the path of the deceased's body the car would be clearly damaged. (Having said that, most of the cars here are fitted with roo-bars so perhaps there wouldn't be too many indications of the event).
We break for lunch at around ten and it was then that the news started to go around that it was a cheese factory worker who had been killed. I didn't know him but he was called Boags, named after a Tasmania beer. Although scant details have been published of the case it appears he was making his way back from the pub sometime after 3.00 am and was hit by someone leaving town, possibly coming from the same pub.
Drink-driving is pretty much accepted over here. I don't like it as I've been successfully indoctrinated by the many drink-driving ad campaigns in the UK but no one here seems to give it a second thought. Several people are caught and banned but I've heard rumours that they are repeat offenders or behaved in such a way as to give the Police no choice in the matter. One friend of mine told me that he was driving from the pub to the club (which is a distance of something like fifty meters) when he was stopped and when asked to get out of the vehicle he was unable to stand up. It would have been a bit difficult to turn a blind eye to such excess but as there is no public transport and only one cab people who live out of the main town have little choice if they want to drink and get home.
Boags' girlfriend worked in the factory also so there were quite a few upset people once the news started to spread, I decided to finish my lunch early and get back on the factory floor and out of the way.
We were called in for a "huddle" which is (in my opinion) a reprehensible euphemism for a meeting and were told by the manager that we should look out for one another and that anyone feeling unable to work should speak to their boss and then go home.
On the next day they organised for someone from the hospital together with the local vicar to come and give a talk on grief counseling. The counselors were rather taken aback with the number of people who attended the meeting and opened with a comment about how popular Boags must have been, little did they realise that we weren't told it was a meeting about Boags, we were just told to go to another 'huddle'. I was impressed however with the effort put in as it wasn't what I expected from the management of the factory.
It was a couple of days later that the driver was revealed. He was a local man (as opposed to Boags who hadn't lived here for the mandatory five generations in order to qualify as local) and unsurprisingly used to work at the cheese factory also. We've not heard anything since so I presume more will be revealed when it goes to court.
Boags' funeral was in Tasmania and a couple of the workers attended. They also had a ceremony for him down at the dock which was apparently pretty well attended. I haven't heard his name mentioned since although it's still written in pen on his locker.
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