Rainy Day Blues

Fiz

It’s Monday and this morning I just couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed and go to work.  Kathleen felt the same way coincidentally, she hadn’t gotten enough rest to operate the machinery, and we called to see if we could come in a bit late.  Which was totally ok as we aren’t on wage for the pears.  So at 8:00 we are noticed a rather large patch of cloud that happened to go on as far as the eye could see, which was pretty far, this part of Australia is flat, like an underscore is flat ____ That flat.

We also heard lots of thunder in the distance.  After another call in we found out that the storm was projected to blow right over.  So we pack our lunch and we jump into our Executive Commodore, (that’s the model of our car, the make is Holden, owned by Chevy actually) and drive off to work. 

Its 8:15 at this point and it starts to rain.  Then it rains a little harder.  And about 3 minutes away from work we drive right into a wall of rain.

We arrive at work and our boss is confident it will blow over.  So far every weather prediction he has made has been wildly inaccurate.  The one time he called work early for a thunder head it actually did pass right over us in the time it took to get our shit in our car and start to drive away.

Today was not one of those days.  We parked next to all the other pickers in our block, and even as we were arriving we saw two cars leave.  By 8:30 somebody who had come to work after us had already left, along with three or four more cars.  At 8:45 our boss came around and told us along with the few remaining optimists to go home, it was too wet, and that he would text us when it was dry enough to come back.  We are still waiting for the text, because wait for it, its still raining. 

It stopped for about an hour around ten, but it is just past 1:00 now and it is still steadily spittin’.

I’m still feeling lazy as all hell, and am in no way upset that I’m sitting on our sofa writing this instead of out in the orchards. The only perk about picking in this sort of weather is that the sun is tucked safely behind the clouds so you can come out of hiding a little bit and ease off the sun block and wear less layers, also the rain keeps you cool so you don’t over heat, which is a problem for a lot of backpackers.

I’m listening to Jimi Hendrix as I write this post and he is the perfect thing for a rainy summer day.  Something about the way he manipulates his guitar is the perfect pickup when everything about the world right now is telling me to go back to bed.

Oh and the possum trap didn’t work.  Well it wasn’t so much of a trap really, I cut up a bunch of fruit and put it in a pile in front of our door so he couldn’t take it and run off, so he would have to stay if he wanted it.  I had hoped to leave the door open and just keep the screen door closed so we could see him before he saw us but it got cold, really cold, and the door was closed to conserve what little heat we could.  But we did make a bet with Nico and Nelly, the French couple, to see who could catch the little guy first. $5 on the line, we need a new strategy.

If you have any ideas, please do comment.

Quite Evenings

By Kathleen

It’s Sunday evening in Tatura and the days seem to be flying by. Weekends seems far away when you measure time in number of bins picked and I’m sitting outside on our picnic table catching the last rays of my day off.

Fiz is playing the my guitar that I found at Rainbow Festival and the cockoos are singing their strange song. In the distance I can hear a horse whinny and something screech.

It’s these moments that make life in Tat something enjoyable, despite the lack of entertainment and with all the hours of work. There is something simpler about this way of life and I find that I am very happy here some days, with time to be outside to sit and write.

Every grocery run we drive by vast orchards lining the roads and grazing fields that are filled with horses, cows and sheep. It’s incredible to believe we are only just over two hours from one of Australia’s largest cities. Sometimes the emptiness of this place catches me off guard. Our hometown is fairly rural in our eyes but its nothing compared to the Australian country.

Lately we’ve been noticing that we have adjusted to the weather here. Now 60 degrees seems cold and we worry that we will have our New Englander cards revoked.  We worry that our sense of temperature isn’t the only thing that’s been altered by staying here, especially by being in the country. Our perception of friendliness is changing. New Englander’s aren’t exactly known for their cuddliness, their right up there next to New Yorkers and Gizzly Bears on most people’s list. Australian’s in contrast seem wide open, like visiting the south if the south without the conservative drawbacks. People here are quick to smile and fats to help out.

A good demonstration may be a quick road story. On the way to the store today a grey pink thing tumbled in front of our car. We slowed down and realized it was one of the birds we call “dumb-pink-things” because they are grey and bright pink and well, sorta dumb looking. It didn’t move when we drove towards it and we realized that it was clearly dazed. We pulled over.

The bird wandered haplessly into the middle of the road and another car stopped to check on it. Just as we were debating who would take it to the wildlife services the dumb-pink-thing took flight and flew off down the road.

I can’t say I’ve ever seen two cars at home pulled over for a bird as common as a pigeon. Australians can be pretty cool.
It’s becoming dinner time and soon I’ll have to start getting ready for tomorrow. At least we don’t have to get up at 5:30 anymore, now we can sleep till 6. The seasons are changing and we are losing the light, another month and autumn will be upon us, soon winter will be here and it will be time to move on.

Peachy Keen

By Kathleen

It's a Musk Lorikeet and it loves peaches and this photo is brought to you by Wikipedia. Thanks wiki!

  

Another week in the fruit pickers world has gone by quickly. We’re still waiting for the harvest to start in earnest so we’ve been passing time continuing to pick tomatoes and on a couple of days, peaches.

The orchard we’ve been picking for supplies caning peaches for Coco-Cola ( among other fruits). I find it strange to be on this side of the agro-industrial fence given my pro-locavore/organic stances in my own food choices.

I can’t help but think  back to the giant cans of peaches that we had in the campus kitchen. Strange to think how seemingly unrelated things in life tie together. I’ve now worked in the food industry from picking to serving and I am continually amazed at how much food is being wasted.

Blueberries, tomatoes, plums and peaches it makes no matter for every fruit I pick five go on the ground as trash fruit. About half of that is perfectly edible but not esthetically up to par. What’s wrong with us? Isn’t there some seconds market out there? Having come direct from India this waste seems all the more appalling. We don’t realize what a privilege it is to eat well.

Nevertheless, orchard work is interesting and not half as labor intensive as tomatoes. The peaches have a few drawbacks one of them being the itchiness that their fuzz imparts and the other being that they are particularly appealing to birds.

Peaches are a bit harder to pick in some ways as it can be difficult to tell when they are ripe. Half the time you’ll see a group of them on a treetop and think “ oh look bunches of ripe ones”. Then you’ll get your ladder haul it over set it up and climb it with your giant fruit back, only to have it turn out  “nope not at all ripe” or “ way too small”. Peaches are devious.

This week brought another foray with Australian wild things. We stumbled upon a wounded musk lorikeet (we call them parakeets). Or I should say our local roommate spotted it hiding on a tree using its lovely emerald color as camouflage. We managed to grab it and discern that it was hurt before it escaped us.

For several hours we lost it until I stumbled ( literally poor thing) across it. We grabbed it again, put it (nicely) in a box and our roommate brought it to the local vet. Another cool thing about Australia… they have people who volunteer all over to rehabilitate wildlife and they take it every seriously.

So hopefully our lorikeet friend will fly free soon instead of becoming cat food.In the meantime I’m hoping it’s mates will take it’s hospital care as trade for not eating the fruit I want to pick.

To-MAY-to Ta-Ma-to

By Kathleen

The past week we’ve been picking tomatoes. Like most ground fruit and veg., tomato picking is hard work. After six hours your legs hurt so bad getting from sitting to standing or visa versa is supremely difficult. Your lower back has turned into a painful muscle and all you want to do is lie down.

It’s even more challenging when it 40 C (105 F) or raining. But weather or no weather the picking must go on.. unless of course we can’t pick because of the weather.

Either way its actually one of the most enjoyable jobs I’ve ever had. Frankly, even in an office chair or an air conditioned café my legs and or back would hurt and here when I come home at the end of the day, work is done. I find I’m not bring back half the drama I have previously. Besides it’s satisfying to pick the fruit.

I’ve had some deep thoughts (well, not that deep) about food and life but I’ll get to those later. I want to show you what we’ve been up to. ( in reverse order)  *Oh and to those who have requested it, comments are back on.

Pickers' Paraphernalia and rainbow of tomatoes.

Industrial Irrigation can look surprisingly pretty in the afternoon light.

Gum Trees by a muddy river

Quiet cove at Manly in Sydney

Fiz posing in from of Hat Head Lighthouse Point, NSW

Yep that's a kangaroo hopping by. They're FAST.