Returning Home.

UPDATE ON BEING A DISPLACED PERSON:
Although this past week has been a trying time, with emotional ups and downs, tension, harsh words aimed at me over a situation I neither caused nor wanted, I have come away with a sense of relief and lightness at having come home at last.  Problems seemed to be compounded during the last 2 days, when the main power company refused to sign off on the job due to confusion over names attached to repair bills and power supply bills, not to mention the indignant way I was told I was lying about who I buy my power through.  I sometimes wonder what people have running through their minds when they make such silly statements.  Finally on Thursday evening at 6.30pm the power company sent 2 workmen out to complete the process of reconnecting my supply and in turn me with my home.  These wonderful men said there was no plausible excuse for the tardy delay and couldn't appologise enough.  So I lit the fire, put on the kettle and served them a steaming hot coffee in gratitude for bringing balance to my life.  All the while, Snake had found a new toy.  He began climbing incessantly up and over, in and out of the big work truck.  Playing hide and seek with one of the men who had taken a shine to him.  They played for a good while until time came to pack up and head off for another job.  The man gently lifted Snake down and placed him in my arms.  Such a delightful end to an almost mind wrecker of a week.   For the words of kindess sent to me through fellow blogger  Melbourne Dreaming,  I say thankyou, they lifted my spirit and reminded me of my inner strength and ability to keep on keepin on.

Living for a week as a displaced person.

Our week began with a bang.  At 2am on Monday our power failed.  No big deal really, it will be back on.  However, by 6 hours later still no power, which meant in turn, no water for showers, cooking and cleaning as we have an electric pump to transfer our house water from the tank.  It also meant no lights or any other electricals.  Now what to do.  Number 1 son works in a job that is rather grotty and comes home looking like he has rolled in dirt all day.  He has to be able to shower.  Short conference with him and decision to relocate ourselves to a local motel.  Hmm, now we can shower and have a television, lights and water, but are unable to cook for ourselves.  It's ok we think, one night of takeaways won't hurt.  After all we are told that all will be restored by Tuesday.  Why the delay, it wasn't a simple power outage, our mains board had shorted and caught fire.  This meant a major repair job and two seperate companies to do it.  A local electrician and the main power company to turn the mains power off and on at the mains switch external to our property.   Tuesday comes, I wait and wait for that wonderful call to come so I can return home and settle back in.  Not to be, when the call comes, it is to say go back to motel.  After paying for the first night, I am now broke and not a dime left to my name.  Our biggest dilemma arose when the landlord became indignant and tried laying guilt trips on us over having to pay our motel bill.  Law is law, the fault was not ours, we had paid our rent in advance and as we are unable to use the home we have paid for, he is ultimately responsible to pay the motel costs. So once that is settled, back to the motel we go for night 2 and another feed of less than healthy food.  My body is already reacting to the change in diet, I only eat home made and usually organic foods I prepare myself.  With good reason considering my heart condition and the tumours on my spinal chords.  Wednesday morning comes along, I drive number 1 son to work and then go back to the motel to finish packing up and check out,  again.  Then off to the library for the day, where I can at least keep warm and do some more work on my studies.  I can't face more takeaways and decide eating is off the agenda for the day, my stomach can't take it.  At almost 3.30pm the phone rings, I get all excited only to be told, I need to go back to the motel.  Why?  The big power company who are responsible for inspecting and signing off the repairs for me to be able to go home, didn't do it.  They said can't do that today, landlords name on repair bill, my name on power bill.  I am now not a happy customer, but still try to keep a civil tongue and level head.  After all the landlord is doing his best to get things resolved.  Hmm pity about the increased intensity of the guilt trips.  So he will now only pay for me to stay in the motel as he said he is not responsible for Number 1 sons living arrangements.  Hmm ok,  back to motel to book "my" room.  They have one room left at a higher rate, he gets miffed about increased cost and argues the toss until motel owner caves to cheaper rate.  Room has 3 beds, so number 1 son is ok, not that grumpy landlord knows.
We are told that Thursday we should be right to go home.  I will wait and see, then update this post later. Wish me luck.  I am now more aware of how people who have no home feel, being displaced is demeaning, depressing and not condusive to a persons self confidence.  To all homeless and displaced persons in the world you have my kindest thoughts and I will keep you in my prayers.

Apulia Grove, olive picking

Ceilidh showing me the solar and biolitic systems in use at Apulia grove.

During the weekend of May 7th and 8th, I stayed with Ceilidh and Charles at Apulia Grove.  The olives are all ready for harvest and they were in dire need of help to them off the trees before they were lost to frost.  So I packed the car and headed on down.  Saturday saw me with a small plastic rake in hand stripping olives from the trees, along with the Stolk family, Charles, Ceilidh and Scott. 

JJ and I working in the grove

The pickers hard at work

At the end of a fantastic day filled with a lot of banter, laughter and a song or two shared with the Stolk children, we all gathered around a drum fire to cook a scrumptious dinner and reflect on a day that brought new friends together and taught me something about the olive industry. 

On Sunday, we arose to a wonderful breakfast of bacon and eggs, great coffee and a beautiful morning of sunshine.  Scott was first up and had been out shooting for rabbits.  He did manage to get one but doesn't have the skin and dress skills.  So, I took knife to hand and did the deed for him.  One rabbit skun, cleaned and ready to cook, as well as one happy shooter.  After this was done, Ceilidh, Charles and I got busy with day 2 of the olive harvest and pressing.  Charles was back in the grove with family members who arrived to help, while Ceilidh and I were in the processing shed dealing with the olives harvested the day before.  I got to see Big Gen running as I strained to hear what was said over her loud belly grumbles.  Then Ceilidh introduced me to Frank the olive processing machine, so called because he does things his own way.  The next stage I was introduced to was filling the filtering tank with the pressed oil and then draining it into storage drums. 

Big Gen

Frank the processing machine

The filtering tank

By days end, I felt very impressed with all I had learned from such wonderful people, thankyou Charles and Ceilidh for this opportunity and wonderful hospitality.