Workshop

It’s early in the morning – dark outside and the house is quiet, other than the odd creak as old roof wood contracts - stretching it’s corrugated tin counterpart.  Sometimes, there’s a scurrying – probably a field mouse and I always wonder how they get up there. 

When the westerly winds blow, and there is a constant chill my thoughts are towards my family in the Workshop.  I’ve started a ritual of toasted crumpets with loads of melted butter and a swirling of maple syrup.  With one hand, I pull open the huge door.  Sparks are flying!  Grinders are whizzing!  And then… with the sudden disturbance and rush of cold air, the inhabitants – oftentimes in sync – lift their welding helmets or take off their goggles to see who is entering.  Their curiosity is further piqued when they see a plate in my hand. 

 Emma - working the CAD

 The Machinist - deep in concentration while using the milling machine

 Sarah - grinding

 Cameron - not sure what he is doing

 Sam - not sure what he is doing either

I walk between them and their crooning necks to the rear of the workshop, to let the Machinist know that there is something for morning tea.  “I don’t want you spoiling them, Babe..” he tells me, as he smiles and grabs one of the offerings, minding not to drip the sweet syrup over his hand or overalls. 

Today, there will be no treats as Emma and I will be setting out to Sydney soon.  We have to pick up a job from a sub-contractor and bring it back to the Machinist – post haste – for him to work his magic and meet an (unexpected) deadline.  All of our other children (ahem – young adults – YA YA’s) will be working long hours this weekend.  Hayley will be taking good care of our cherished Keiralea. 

Sarah and Cameron’s wedding is just over two weeks from today.  The brand new workshop we are currently building will be the venue for their reception – before the Machinist fills it with equipment.  And so – a wedding reception in a building which is, as I write – not yet built.

This is typical of our family; thirteenth hour chaos, then calm. 

As the Machinist says “It’ll all be good, Babe.  We always deliver”

AN UPCOMING WEDDING

Life in Review:

The workshop is being built.  What I haven't mentioned is that Workshop B is to be the venue for our Sarah and Cameron's wedding reception.  The thing is - it hasn't even been built yet, even though it is in the process of being built. 

Their wedding day?  THE SECOND OF JUNE.

THIS YEAR.

Can you feel it?  Can you feel the urgency?  The angst?

And yet, in my heart of hearts, I know it will be ok.  It will be beautiful and it will all be ok. 

The Way It Is.

A lamb appeared in our garden late yesterday afternoon.  It was breathing heavily, and had sought rest between the two photinia robustas.   The lamb's woolly neck was blood stained, and yet - he was standing firmly, - alerted to our presence (Emma and myself, with grand-baba Keiralea in my arms). Just then, a huge Rottweiler also appeared and paused in it's tracks, head tilted back staring at us almost arrogantly (he reminded me of a scene from "Cujo").  Then there was the Machinist's voice behind me "Get inside, Helen, both of you - get away from that dog..."

The Machinist called the farmer who owned the lamb, and alerted the neighbour who owned the dog.  Although it wasn't one of the farmer's flock, he took it away....

You can imagine our delight and joy, then, when we learned that the lamb had been stitched, pain killers and antibiotics had been administered and the lamb is currently doing well in his "parents" shed.

We later heard that the owner of the dog had taken his pet to be euthanised

Growth

It is the eve before they start building our new Workshop.  The Machinist has, for the most part, prepared all he can before the builders' arrival.  He and the lads have moved tons and tons of soil and roadbase, in efforts to heighten the land which runs alongside our house on which the Workshop will 'sit'.  A pad, if you will. 

I have meant to take many photos of the paddocks beyond our land.  When we stand on the back deck, we can see such beauty for miles, it seems.  The willows, the tussocks, the variety of gum trees, the hills and my favourite scene of all and one which I've posted on before - the three dead trees which look as if they are performing modern dance, while having an air of the wise prophets of old.  Very soon, this view will no longer be. 

Instead, a growing business.  A family legacy.  Scary, yet challenging.  Challenging, yet scary.  Like many before us, everything on the line. 

But by the Grace of God go I (we).

HURRY UP .... AND WAIT....

After many fantasies and good intentions of blogging regularly I am left with a sense of disappointment towards self.  I say to myself  "Self, - even if the blog post turns out crappy - just pull your head in and do it.."

I speak tough, acquire a new verve, then go on to view the blog posts of others or take a (s)troll on Facebook.

Many wild and spontaneous adventures with the local Council are always up for grabs.  These adventures make me feel drained and sad.  But then,  in a moment of clarity, I rob myself of the right to feel self pity over such trivialities when the rest of life is so BIG. 

These thoughts and feelings are like foreigners to me.  So is the urge to rebel. 

I might go and play 80's One Hit Wonders - full volume.

There!

We may be on the verge of being granted a Construction Certificate, so that we can start building the second Workshop.  The Machinist has hired a shipping container to store equipment until the structure is up and concreted.  In the meantime, out of working hours, the girls and I are painting the house, as you do when you are in-waiting. Very soon it really will be 'all systems - GO!'