High 5-ing the World

Resolution? Promise? Goal? I don't know what you'd call it, but a year ago we made one.

In a conversation about where we'd like to be as a family, we quickly realised that the future we were planning didn't include a car.

Three years ago we gave up shopping at supermarkets, a year ago we gave up air travel, two months ago we gave up eating out of season and we're slowly transitioning towards giving up our mobile phones. But giving up our car feels like the biggest decision we have made so far.

It took us a year of preparation. We started a log book so we could see all the reasons we were justifying using the car. We biked, walked, carpooled and used public transport as much as we could, and after surviving the winter, knew that we were ready.

The town we call home has limited public transport options—no trams and no trains—so we knew we'd have to be a bit more organised whenever we wanted to leave. But on the plus side, we live in town, so it's a five minute bike ride up to the post office or library.

A week ago, we drove our car to Melbourne and delivered it to its new owner. The second he drove away it started to pour, and it dawned on me for the first time, the reality of our decision.

The next day, PJ started converting our carport into a bike/tool/potting shed.

After researching and test riding several cargo bikes, we finally made our decision. Yesterday PJ and I bussed and trained to Melbourne where we picked up our Kona Utes. Our first ride was a two-hour stint from the nearest train station, home.

My legs feel strong today, though my arms are a little sunburnt. Not from waving down passing cars to give us a lift, but from feeling so overwhelmed with freedom, I couldn't help high 5-ing the world.

Overheard

The train leaves the platform. After sitting silently for a while, a woman looks up from her newspaper and says to her friend, "It says here that 90% of all large fishes have disappeared from the world's oceans in the past half century because of industrial fishing."

Her friend looks up in dismay.

The woman continues. "Only 10% of the whole world's tuna, swordfish, marlin, cod, halibut, skates and flounder are left. In the whole world! That's it—I'm never eating tuna again."

"Are you serious?" Her friend says. "I'm going to eat as much as I can before it's all gone."

Got Milk

I woke early thinking about milk today. Perhaps because it looked like our neighbourhood had been dunked in a big glass of it. And perhaps because I had arranged to get some fresh milk today from a cow who's weaning her calf.

I had wanted to find the cow to thank her and snap a pic, but she couldn't be found in the fog. Here is H who looks after the cow, filling my bottle in her kitchen.

Over on PJ's blog, he has a discussion going about the ethics of food that has got me thinking a bit more about what we eat (and drink) and why.

We buy a litre of organic milk a week and I assume that that's good enough. But is it? It comes in a carton from Bendigo, 45 minutes (by car) away, which isn't so bad, although I'm sure a lot of energy is used in the production of that humble litre.

Did you know that due to health regulations it's illegal to buy and sell milk that hasn't been pasteurised? People get around the laws by selling it as 'bath milk'. I don't know the laws in other countries but in Australia, this is the case.

I put the bath milk in my tea today, and can happily say I look forward to meeting Elly the cow next week when I stop by for my litre.

We've Been Talking

Since we first got together, but more seriously for the last 18 months, PJ and I have been talking about the areas in our life that we'd like to change in order to live more sustainably.

Trying our best to avoid buying things that are made from or packaged in plastic is our ongoing mission. On the whole I feel great about it, although there's an organic grapefruit juice we no longer buy because it comes in a plastic bottle, that I really, really miss.

Buying local is another rung on our transition ladder, which we are incrementally working towards. As is only buying second hand clothes.

We recently made a decision that feels a lot bigger than the steps we have taken so far. And that is not to fly overseas by plane again. PJ and our friend Jason, who together make up the outfit WorkmanJones have been invited to show their work at a gallery in the States next year, accompanied by their respective partners. Airfares and artist fees were included. I was planning to see my sister Abby, among other people, but now it looks like I won't see her or them until they come to Australia or until air travel is powered by non-polluting fuel.

This feels huge! One of the sites I write for is a travel site. On my profile it says

As a writer, Meg is often asked about the one book that has been the most inspirational or influential in her life. For all the insights, adventures and revelations it has afforded her, she would hands down have to say her passport.

And I'm not just saying that. It feels like a huge thing to say I'm never going to travel overseas by plane again.

What about you? Is there anything you have given up or can't imagine living without?

Camper Bike

From here.

Bike Week

It's Bike Week here in the Land of Meg; a whole week of posts dedicated to the wonder that is the bicycle.

Two days ago, this wonder was on display in our town for all the community to experience.

To celebrate International Day of Climate Action, two local green groups screened the film, The Age of Stupid, which I implore you to see if you have not yet.

To offset the carbon generated by the projector during the screening, 12 grid-connected bikes were set up in the middle of town on Saturday, the day of the screening, to generate the 2,000 megawatt hours needed to power the film that night.

As the bicycle is the most efficient means of self-powered transport, I have always thought that pedal power = a lot of power. But compared to coal power, which we receive at the flick of a switch, pedal power is an inefficient, time-consuming way of producing electricity. But boy oh boy was it a fun way to learn that it takes nearly all day to create enough juice to screen an 89 minute film!

Happy Bike Week, y'all!

What's Old is New Again

1 rainy day + some old toys + glue =

Rednesday: Truck

A Day on Earth

Learning from the elders.

Working in the fields.

Industrial revolution.

"Biophysics for self-liberty."

Hunting for food.

Riding off into the sunset.

One Candle

My friend Crumbs and I have been friends since we were five. (That's 30 years!) Today her daughter celebrated her third birthday, so Z and I went down to Melbourne for her party. 

It was an afternoon of privileges – to have such lovely friends and to have known them all for so long, to have all this party food to eat, and to be able to travel by car, four trains and a tram in absolute safety without a hiccup.

Not so for so many. When we arrived in Melbourne we were met by 2,000 of Melbourne's Indian population who were protesting against the rising number of violent attacks against its community.

The protest began at the Royal Melbourne Hospital where an injured Indian student is battling for his life, and concluded at Parliament House with a candlelight vigil in support of the 500 Indian students who have been attacked over the past four years.

As we celebrated the wonder of Crumb's three year-old and sang Happy Birthday, I quietly dedicated one of the candles on her cake to the 500 students and their families.

Eyes Wide Shut*

I took this photo of PJ yesterday at ACCA. You can't see it from this angle but the face has been printed onto stainless steel that has then been laser cut and pulled out convexly. Apart from this piece, by Justine Khamara, it was a very disappointing show.

* I don't remember liking the Kubrik film especially, though I very much enjoyed reading the 1926 book the film was based on, Traumnovelle (Dream Story) by Arthur Schnitzler.

Legend has it that when Kubrik bought the film rights, he sent his peeps out across the lands to buy up all the copies of the Schnitzler book so that nobody would know the story.

I read it while I was travelling through India many years ago. I had bought it at a second hand bookshop. I was sitting reading it on a train one afternoon when a couple of tourists walked by me. When the guy saw what I was reading he told me the story of Kubrik buying up all the copies and begged me to post it to him when I had finished reading it, which I did.

Ben Kweller

My relationship with PJ has been full blast since we first hooked up. We were sharing finances after a couple of months and share nearly everything, except two things.

Our books live on separate shelves at either end of our office. His are neatly arranged into categories such as Experimental Poetries, Obscure Nonsense and Ecological Counterculture, while mine are stacked randomly according to the order I pulled them from their boxes when we first moved into this house.

On the whole we like the same music, which is a very lucky coincidence, though we still like to listen to music that the other can't stand. I have a playlist on my iPod full of songs that I know PJ doesn't like that I often play loudly when he goes out.

Last night I trained to Melbourne and went with my sister Emily to see Ben Kweller. Oh what joy to share such a great experience with her and to be surrounded by people in a sold out venue who like his indi pop ballads as much as I do.

Contiguous

This happened a year ago to the day. We had moved into our house only six weeks earlier. These are the photos and words I emailed around to friends and family.

Neighbour's van. Handbrake failed. No one hurt. 

He's a builder and is doing the repair work himself. He was devastated and very shaken when it first happened.

The van took the electricity box off the house so we had no power all day.

PJ and I were under the house putting some insulation under the floor. We heard a crash when it went through the neighbour's fence and then saw it go up the ramp.

Crazy!! But no one was hurt, so that's good.

What a day!!

xx

Spewsday Tuesday

From Spender:

Hey Peeps.

This is gross but I couldn’t resist. Curiosity always gets the better of humanoids.

So, 109 tram down vic parade. 11 am. busy tram. Went to sit at a (surprise) empty bunch of seats then realised some one had blown chunks on the floor. The funny bit was the 2 dollar coin in the middle.

1. Some one swallowed a coin by mistake and realised their error while on the tram

2. Some one spewed and thought they would leave a tip for the cleaner

3. Some dadaist created an installation and a social experiment to see how much it would cost for some one to fish around in a pile of vomit for a quick buck.

I leave you with these deep resounding questions...

Floating

We spent the afternoon down at the lake again today; swimming, reading, listening to the Hottest 100 playing on a nearby stereo.

Doesn't this look like heaven? I love that this is practically our backyard.

These three girls floated by on their cloud and I had to snap a photo.

What I Would Do

For my sister A on her birthday:

• Make breakfast for Z and his friend who stayed over.
  
• Wash my hair.
  
• Take Z to his swimming lesson.
• Pick up the car with its four new tyres.
• Catch a train to Melbourne.
  
• Have a meeting about my next contract.
• Kiss the birthday girl on both cheeks.
• Eat party food in her honour.
• Laugh with my nieces and mum and two of my sisters and play that game where you write a sentence and fold the page over, then write a word for the next person to start their sentence, then read it all out at the end. One of the sentences I wrote was about having to eat lunch before birthday cake. I was so full after my sandwiches though, that I had no more room for cake.
• See a vampire movie.
• Stand at the train station wishing I had taken a slice of birthday cake so I wouldn't have to buy a vending machine muesli bar.
• Sit next to a man reading a book about how to stop smoking, while I think about sisters and aging and travel and making homes, while I make my way home on the train.

Chook Book

Because I'm an enthusiastic reader, I'm always eager to see what books strangers are engrossed in when I see people reading on public transport.

On the way down to Melbourne today I read this book on the train and then on all the trams I took. I held it out in front of me like a proud shield.

Keeping chooks is one of the greatest joys in my life and I want people to know that I am not some random redhead on public transport, but that I have chooks!

I learnt a lot whilst reading the Chook Book. Of course you can never read too much about something you love, but I have learnt more than a book can ever teach just from hanging out in our yard and quietly watching our birds in all their feathered glory.

So many people have commented to me how dumb chooks are – what pea brains. And maybe they are compared to dogs or cats, but what nobler job is there than sitting on eggs of new life. I was in awe of Cuba when she was broody and I am in awe of those little pea brains who can create something as complete and contained as an egg. 

After all these millions of years of evolution and with all my years of education, if only I could create something so wonderful each day.

Backwards and Forwards

I woke early today and caught the train down to Melbourne. I met two of my sisters for coffee including A who's holidaying from NYC. Oh my beauties! I love them so much.

Afterwards we went to the home where our grandmother, who has Alzheimer's lives. We all sat around her in the courtyard eating cake in honour of her 84th, kissing her soft plump cheeks. She was conscious but doped in a daze.

It is so hard to see her like this; to remind ourselves what she was once like, to see our grandfather nurture her like a baby. But it's even harder to see our mum, now motherless for the most part. Mum graduated from her course last week and said she missed her mother terribly, and wished she could share her life with the mother she once had.

It's so hard not to ache, and at the same time it's so hard to feel entirely present, because we want to remember our grandmother like she was.

On the train on the way home, a mother and young daughter got on and sat in the seats in front of me. When the train started moving the child asked why we were going the wrong way. "We're not going the wrong way," the mother replied. "Our seats are just facing backwards."

This small exchange has stayed with me ever since: the correction of navigation with perspective.

Inspiration Point

This is the view from inside the tow truck on Friday night. I was on my way to pick up PJ who had been working in Sydney for a week. The rain, the rain, the dead car battery. Even though I was several hundred meters from the airport, PJ had to take a cab to reach me.

We made out while we waited for the mechanic. The rain, determined, the windows, fogged.

We were Kate and Leonardo in the steamy car that caused the Titanic to sink. We were shipwrecked, we were stranded, we were stuck. We were the love interests of every college film ever made, parked overlooking the city at Inspiration Point.

As a young woman I always found these movies terribly confusing, the way they assumed the viewer was a male. The glorification of the female's body, the holy grail crescendoes when the male got see it. 

I was her, I was her, I was him.

Men Standing Around

The rear of the bus was stuck on the road. The incline of the driveway has caused many a vehicle to scrape its undercarriage or get jammed. I know this because the driveway is 100 metres from our house.

PJ, Z and I walked up to the end of our street and watched.