You want me to go where??

‘Change’ affects all of us differently. For some people, changing is like a duck to water. No problems at all. For others change is much more difficult – impossible even. New friends, new job, new routine, new life.

“You’ll love it!” They said about my new job out west.

“So many young people and such a good social life!” They added.

This is all true. But it’s not until you get out of your black synthetic city pants and into a good pair of comfy jeans (literally and metaphorically) that you can fully appreciate it. Embracing change is easier (and happens faster) for some, and it doesn’t happen at all for others.

Rural living had never factored into my future plans. I was an inner city apartment kind of dreamer. I think that’s why I resisted it so much at first. And when I did finally embrace it, there was WAY too much local wine involved and I then spent the following twelve months apologising to everyone who witnessed my abysmal fall from grace. Not an ideal way to kick start your time in a rural community.

After my initial nose dive in small town socialising, I relied more on conversation and less on wine to see me through. It paid off. I made loads of great friends and began to see my time out west for what it was – an opportunity. An opportunity to meet new and interesting people. An opportunity to learn about such a different lifestyle to the one that I had known previously. An opportunity to learn about farming and other lines of work completely out of my comfort zone. As a teacher, I learned phrases that I’d never heard before: “piggin’”, “bull dust”, “lamb marking” and “stick picking” are only a few.

I finally grasped the importance of rural and regional areas on my previously sheltered life. Toowoomba was as far west as I had ever dared to venture. Australia ended there for me until I was sent out west to teach. A whole new world then opened up for me.

Change doesn’t have to be difficult, because (most importantly and in spite of my initial resistance), I also learned that not all farmers are grass chewing, big hat and boot wearing country folk, and even if they are, that might be exactly what you didn’t know you needed. And thankfully I figured that out quickly. It certainly worked in my favour all those years ago!

 

Some Things I Know...

Because I can, I want to share some interesting conversations I had this week, which kind of sum up parts of my life very nicely. The first is a story about my present situation. How incredibly lucky and privileged I am when it comes to things I take for granted... like not having to buy meat. The second story is about my earlier life. The happy little bubble I lived in before I learned that life existed outside of Brisbane. Hope you enjoy!

Yesterday I had to walk into a butcher and BUY meat. This is significant because my husband is a sheep and cattle farmer. Buying meat is not something we really ever do. It's kind of a given that it will always be in my freezer. So when I organised a barbeque and realised we wouldn't have enough meat for everyone, I made an executive decision to just go and buy some. Here's what happened.

Butcher: Hello Mam. Can I help you?

Me: Ummm... yeah you could lower the price of lamb and beef by about $10 a kilo for a starters... (I should add that I was smiling, so he knew I was trying to be funny.)

Butcher: Yeah... you must be a farmer's wife?

Me: That obvious? I'm actually trying not to pass out or vomit at the moment. Are you kidding me? Is this how much meat seriously costs? Actually, we run sheep and cattle, so I don't do this very often... this is really hurting me!

Butcher: (laughing)

Me: Okay then... I'll take some of your overpriced porterhouse steak, and some of those lamb chops that surely must be laced with diamonds...

Okay, so maybe the conversation didn't go EXACTLY like that... but that was definitely the tone of it. And now that the meat is at home, I'm not sure if I want to eat it, or frame it?

It's kind of been a week for sharing completely irrelevant stories like this about my life. Earlier this week at work I had a discussion with a colleague about how on earth I ended up out here. The gist of it is as follows.

About eleven years ago, I received a phonecall from District Office (for non-teacher people, this is the group of people who hire teachers and put them into specific jobs). The conversation went something like this...

D.O: Hi, we'd like to offer you a teaching position in St George.

Me: Uhhhh... how can you offer me a job in Sydney, if I trained in QLD?

D.O: I think you might be mistaken. I mean St George, western QLD. Ever heard of it?

Me: No.

D.O: What about Roma?

Me: Uh-uh. No.

D.O: Toowoomba?

Me: I've heard of it before, I think.

In retrospect (and this will only really make sense to anyone who either knows ANY of these towns and their locations well enough to see any humour in that conversation at all, or who just checked an atlas to see what just happened) the poor lady on the phone at District Office probably rolled her eyes 175 times over the duration of a 5 minute phone call. Toowoomba (for those not in the know) is an hour drive from Brisbane. Having lived out here for over 10 years now, I find that when I am driving to Brisbane, and reach Toowoomba, I already feel like I am 'there'. So it is pretty funny to think that once upon a time, I considered Toowoomba to be the 'sticks'.

Everything changes when you live out here. Your perception of distance. Your understanding of just how small Australia is. The actual amount of money you are prepared to spend on red meat. Whatever it is, I have had my mind opened. I appreciate the vast difference between city and country. I can even laugh about it.

These are just some things I know.