Not Only But Also

The third Book in the Tiger Williams Series is under way.  This one goes back to the beginning of the Baker clan in Dorset England.

The Title "From Whence t hey came" will have many bits and pieces about the 'Bounty scheme', about the hopes and aspirations of the free settlers and about their impressions of this Great South Land across the sea.

Here is the unedited, opening remarks.  Some  months away yet though.  So make sure you read the sequel to The Life and Loves of Tiger Williams, now available on Amazon Books.

“But Charles, it is such a long way, six months on the ship...Leaving England, our family, our friends....Oh Charles, I will go, of course, I am you wife, but please keep me safe.”

Mary, Elizabeth Baker nee Newington, was the typical genteel female of Rural Dorset. Born to a well to do family of landholders and Physicians, she had a good life, was happy in the social life, as it was in Dorset in the early 1800s, but as she thought of these things she also had the thought..'.and now this. '

Charles Bevan Baker was a wanderer, a merchant of adventure, and at the age of sixteen years, already an adult and  partner in the family Company, he intended to become very wealthy, and a man of the world.

The green pastures of Dorset, in the district of Marnhull, held two lines of this Baker clan, there were the rich landholders, and there were the workers and tenant farmers that worked small plots for the Squires

Although the clan bore the same name, the divide between the classes was wide and very evident. The Mister Bakers would have no hesitation in withdrawing assistance and employment from the common Bakers, the workers, the poor ones that often, in hard times, relied on handouts from the community or local Parish Church.

Charles left the large house, with its thatched roof, low doorway, tidy garden and went to his horse that was held, patiently, by the groom. Another servant came with a shotgun and a packet of cartridges that Charles places into loops on this hunting jacket.

“Tell the cook I will only bring her two partridge today...we have no guests coming for a free feed tonight.”

The servants tittered at this, obediently, and went about their duties.

As he rode out to meet neighbours and friends, who had already arranged the 'beaters' for the partridge hunt, he thought of the 'game' that may present itself to his accurate marksmanship.

'Hopping marsupials, ten feet tall, wombats built like grizzly bears, other bears that lived in trees and, and, according to Jim Williams, dropped down from the trees to attack the unwary.  There were birds of all size and colour..It will be a bright new wonderful world,'

Excited....Yeeha!

Guess what?  My wonderful Publisher has asked for the sequel to my first novel.

It will be named From lantana to Lotuses or From Lotuses to Lantana, depending on what Fiona Gatt, my co-writer in this event decides.

This story creates some new characters, different adventures and more pathos, love, drama than the "Life and Loves of Tiger Williams."

The new "lad on the block is Richard Little"  Richard meets up with an  old droving mate Steve Williams (Tiger), and joins the staff on Rosemore.

On Rosemore the new characters mingle and mix with the Rosemore 'family', sharing happiness, sadness and tragedy.

This sequel takes us to the 1960's in the Central West of Queensland, when the modern world was slowly taking over the Outback.

The attitudes of those of the Large Brown Country is depicted, from the memory of being there at the time, attitudes that still tried to hold onto the old ethics of the great country.

You can guarantee it will be 'required reading' for those that were clever enough to get the first book.

I loved writing it, I hope you will love reading it.

Sagarious Sayings...Fair Dinkum

If all the not smart people in the world were as half as smart as the smart people think they are we would all be as smart as each other...By half.

If you wish to let someone know how you are, when they ask:  Simply reply, Not bad in patches, a bit rough around the edges but still above ground.. It will usually suffice.

How can one possible answer the question: Have you lived here all your  life?  If you had you would not be there to answer, Right?  So, Not yet, is the only appropriate reply.

Being abusive to someone using their mobile phone in a check out line is not the best way to go, not when a good smack on the back of the head will suffice.

If someone should ask me "How is it, Old Pete, that you are so wise and clever?" I will think about the answer carefully, in case someone asks.

If one limits oneself to ones limits you will only have a limited amount of success.

You never know how much you know until someone asks you a question, and only then if you  answer correctly. But then again, at least, then if you don't answer correctly, you will know that there is something that you don't know.  You will notice that I only apply this to you, and not myself, which is a survival gimmick.

Wisdom is not a gift to the aged, it is a  hard earned commodity that is often mistaken as intrusiveness, by the young.

Understanding women is easy: I will publish the answer as soon as someone sends it to me.

Wonderful words

Old Pete Sez:  I don't get to chat a lot, but when I do, I chat a lot.

Old Pete Sez:  No matter how hard you try, somone is gunna say, "try harder".

Old Pete Sez: If you have great success in life, others must have been abject failures.

Old Pete sez: Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. Jill came down with half a crown...Did she go up for water?

Old Pete Sez: I knew a bloke that was so mean, if he cut  you a slice of bread there would only be one side to it.

Old Pete sez: Once a w oman called me excessivly drunk, Old Pete answered "You are excessevly ugly, but I will be sober in the morning.

Growing a Kid

HOW TO GROW A KID

I have developed a certain horticultural expertise that allows me to presume that I know many things in regards to the propagation, seeding and pollination of certain species and kinds of life.

At an early age I was subject to a very obtuse explanation of the connection of birds and bees in regard to the simple, and as yet, clinically undefined system that is needed to successfully grow a kid.

I purposely stay with the singular, and thus have the insight to leave it to the horticulturist themselves as to whether they wish to grow kids as a crop or a singular , spectacular specimen of that species.

One must understand the function of the kid, once it is fully grown It can be used as a specimen of brilliance in its kind, or it can be just shown in its early age, and then discarded as it deteriorates into the mass of, probably, useless compost of the vast majority of this species. The kid does not last very long in its utmost bloom. It does , however: transcend into a sort of juvenile plant that has an urgent pollinating expression of reproduction.

This, of course, is all very well, and is a painful time in the young kid's development. It is here that the propagator must make sure that the developing kid is not subject to the fairy tales of the birds and the bees. It stands to reason that if you wish to grow birds or bees you educate your experimental species in those sciences. If you wish to grow a kid you must stick with the intrinsic rules of kid seed gathering, planting, and fertile seed implementation conditions.

Having a fair experience as a seed planter, using the most modern of seed planting implements, I find that not enough consideration is given to this section of the kid growing process. Without really showing that I am taking an interest, I have seen some rather large and cumbersome planting devices that can only inhibit a smooth and easy seed placement in the most fertile spot required for good and rapid growth of a kid.

Some try to add attachments to the seed planting device, which may cause some merriment, but does little for the planting process. I would advise here that care be taken with these attachments, and also advise that they can cause damage to the delicate seed as it is planted. You may have seen how delicate some kids are as they age, imagine their delicate condition at the seed planting time. Oft times this damage is not seen until the kid matures, and at a certain age it becomes lack-lustre, no vigour and difficult to treat.

Once the seed is planted, it is advisable to gently turn the seed bed from time to time. The seed itself is secure but the outer covering, resembling a pod on a bean tree, becomes stressed; however, be very careful, and be warned, the protective pod around a kid plant can react with a sharp squirt of a poisonous substance, causing muteness and a certain discomfort to the seed planter. It is not fully k now what causes this reaction, and horticultural science has almost given up looking for an explanation.

Once the kid seed develops and emerges from the pod, it instinctively knows what expectations must be met to keep the kid happy for some time.

Happy Seed Planting, and remember, Practice makes Perfect....or lots of kids

Havin' a yarn

HAVIN' A YARN

G,Day, mate, 'owyagoin, I hope ya' doin' alright, all right?

Yeah! Mate, not too bad, a bit rough around the edges,

Not bad in patches, but still above the ground, most days.

Me too, me' missus and me are still together, still hitched.

And that is something of be considered in the Outback

When things are a changin' an' money's getting' tight.

Ya' not wrong, mate, tighter than a Yella' Belly fish's bum,

Jobs are hard to find now, harder ifn' ya' don't look, they reckon,

Used ta' be a good days work would bring a good day's pay.

Yeah! And when you could trust a man's word, his hand shake.

When you could lend a bloke, down and out,a quid, or maybe two

Knowin' that you would get it back in spades, and then some.

Ya' remember when me and you waz drovin' that mob of bleaters?

We ate a good and hearty meal, and slept dry most nights.

I do remember, mate, I remember it well, well, as well as I can, that is.

Yeah! You remember, sheep rear ends all day long, and dust.

Yeah! I remember the dust, Like powder, up ya' nose and stuff.

Yeah, I got bit real bad by lousy fox fleas, them bloody, blood eaters.

The good old days, when the boss broke his leg, Didn't he kick up a fuss?

Yelled and swore, and thrashed about until the rum ration was gone.

Hard to find a straight stick fer' a splint, but a bent leg beat pain, he said.

Tough old coot, hardly felt a thing, Bundy Rum on the mail truck, came.

A dozen bottles of the best, The boss was at his happiest, no sore leg.

But he was a lousy coot as well, and there was no Bundy Rum for us.

The good old days, when a beer cost ten-pence an' a headache a quid.

Yeah! Mate, the good old days, before the place was invaded by tourists

When most people didn't get 'em selves bogged, 'cause they were smart.

Not like now, mate, pommys and new chums bogged, some in bull dust.

Some in mud, some in the table drain, most in places not meant to be in.

Yeah! Mate, and they whine, they don't get 'emselves out, like we did.

The Outback is changing, mate, it is different somehow, flies still the same.

Drovers in caravans, washing machines, mattresses, even the wimmin.

Who would want to take his missus on a drovin' trip, not me, that's for sure.

But you ain't married, mate, an' that makes a difference on who you would take

Not too bad to finish the day with a cold beer and a bit of cake from the girl,

Good to feel somethin' in the swag not a snake. Her bite don't cause much pain.

“Spose, could ya' have somethin' there, an' the Television thing, is amusin'

Shearin' sheep is still good money. Good mates are still around the place.

Wimmin not plentiful, but that was always as is it is, good ones hard to find.

Horses are gone, motorbikes stinkin' up the air, kids don't wanna work at all,

Government hands them money, they get inta' strife, locked up, young criminals.

The Outback is changin', mate, an; ya' get sadder the more you do the perusin'

Moans and Groans

I feel the need to open this little post for those that  do have a sense of the sometimes 'not nice humour' of the Australian ethic.  Of course, I am speaking of the old blokes like me who put things out there as humour; however those with a little amount of understandong will know that the comment is not the reason for the comment.

 There are some great things about marriage, isn't there? Well isn't there?

There is an epotomoptic joke that goes like this:

Hubby come home, sits down on the recliner in front of the TV, kicks his work boots off  adn puts his smelly sock covered feet up on the footstool.

He hears his 'darling wife' in the kitchen adn calls out, "Bring us a beer. will ya'  before it starts?"

Of course, as is the case in a male, against fremale story, the duitiful wife brings him his beer.

A few short minuites later, I mean he has not had a beer since he left the pub, so he is in dire need, he calls,  "Bring us a beer will ya' before it starts?"

Duitiful wife (As they should be)  brings in another can of beer, but this time, duitiful wilfe tries to demand some respect. (whatever for can never be decided).

"Who do you  think you are, you come home with your dirty work clothes, you put your smelly feet up on the footstool and you demand that I bring you beer at  your commend."

"Ow God, it's started."