Saturday, 18 May 2013


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”

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