Buchanan Love

It's strange here how you can adjust to the life. Getting up at five thirty am when in England - sod off. Australia - bring it on, as long as there is a hot billy and coffee available fairly soon. I'm finding things a lot easier now then I did before, despite the fact that I am still terrified of my boss. But I've gotten used to the life, the hard work. My body has toughened up. I've lost weight and gained muscle (seriously, you should see my guns - I think they put my rowing captain sister to shame :P)

I remember I used to complain at the burns and scorches I used to recieve from a milk steam wand and panini grill at Starbucks, saying how my hands hurt and were dry from the work. I think if I met that person who was doing that I would say 'Go build and strain four kilometres of barbed wire fence, then see what your hands look like' - mine, at the moment, are calice and feel like sandpaper. Furthermore, the barbed wire cuts like a *censored word* and then I cook and clean with these hands (because, as I have explained, I have breasts) which means washing up liquid, washing powder, potato juice and salt etc etc all land in them, as well as the dirt from the jobs I do in the day.

But then again, I wouldn't give up this experience for anything. For me, the glass is half full. I help build a four kilometre fence (which actually isn't that long in comparison the some of the others) and tear my hands, and clothes, apart - but I built a fence with barbed wire and strainers and everything. I know how to do it. Isn't that cool?

The people here I've grown close to as well (apart from my frightening boss) and Gordon makes a joke about us being like a family unit. We have the poms, who are brother - Paul - and sister - Me - as all aussies think England is inbred (I rolls my eyes everytime) and then Uncle Ray, which is what we actually call him behind his back. There's Gordon himself, who is like a grandad, and then Lionel, who is the 'alpha male' of us as it were. It's a strange collection of people, but I've grown to love it. They've also found out the fact that I'm easily cranked up, which they exploit every moment of my working life.

It's weird to think that I've settled, considering I haven't actually been here very long. I sort of know my place, know my way around and understand what were doing and why we're doing it. The fence, or example, was to enclose a paddock properly so when the mustering begins the cattle can go in that paddock as it's closer to the yards. I'm shovelling sand into the middle of the newly grown lawn to make it level and presentable. I'm killing weeds with poison because otherwise the plants the cattle do not eat will overgrow within the paddocks. It's all hard work, but that's what I am hired to do and what I'm paid for.

I'm grateful for the experiences I am collecting whilst I'm here. I cannot imagine a better place to learn all of this. Who else can say that they learned to drive in a twenty-one year old yellow ute in the Australian Bush?

I'm slightly worried though that I'm beginning to enjoy it too much. But never fear, my chumleys, the Nicholin Man will be back...she just might consider emigrating in the far future...

Lovage

xxx