EDITING TOMMY TIPPETT

I finished the edit of my book Tommy Tippett on Friday and what a slog it was. I certainly preferred writing the book rather than editing it. My next task was going to be to format the book and get it into shape enough to have a beta reader or some other assessment made of the story.

As part of that process I started to re-read the first chapter and realised that it just didn't work. I am happy with parts of it but not the sum total. Having the dog, Ace narrating parts of the chapter doesn't gel so I will have to come up with a new begining which is a real embuggerance as I really want to get the story 'out there' to find out what people think about it.

Hopefully it will take but a few days to tweak the story and get it back on track.

I also have to get a title for the book and . I  Admit that I have been really slack and haven't given much thought to naming the book as nothing has really sprung out at me so it is something else I will have to give some thought to.

So still a little ways to go before I start shopping the query letter around to prospective literary agents.

If anyone reading this would be interested in reading some or perhaps all of Tommy Tippett, drop me a quick note and we can go from there.

akmacca08@live.com.au

OSOYOOS INDIAN BAND

A couple of days ago I was lucky enough to be invited along to a peer group training session that was being jointly conducted by the Osoyoos Indian Band (OIB) and Vincor Canada.

The OIB are one of the most successful Indian Bands in Canada and perhaps the world. Much of this success can be attributed to Chief Clarence Louis.

Chief Louis is much demand all around Canada and beyond to speak primarily about Indian issues and how hard work, planning and perserverence can make First Nation people self-sufficient and proud.

Vincor is Canada's largest wine producer and has vineyards and facilities scattered throughout Canada. Vincor operates a major wine facility in the Okanagan Valley of British Colunbia, near the town of Oliver. Vincor has a very good working relationship with the OIB and this peer group training session was developed to strengthen these ties.

Two well regarded drug and alcohol facilitators flew in from Ontario to conduct the session which around 30 people attended.

Chief Loius, adorned in a colourful Washington Redskins jacket addressed the audience and said to them that eighty percent of people on the OIB Reservation could handle alcohol and of those the ones who worked attended on a regular basis. He said the problem lay with the twenty percent who had drug and alcohol issues, and if members of this group worked their attendance was sketchy at best.

He said he wasn't against alcohol, especially since some of OIB businesses sold or produced alcoholic beverages. He said the problem was that many Indian's couldn't control their drinking and did not know when to stop. He said that he hoped that by training and providing peer mentors on the Reservation and in the workplace many of the issues that OIB members and Vincor employees faced around drug and alcohol issues may be avoided and that the peer counsellors would become the first step towards further treatment or other services.

After hearing from the Chief attendees were asked for their input around current issues on the Reservation and in the workplace.

Lunch was a interesting experience. Instead of the usual sandwiches and salad we had stew and fried bread a specialty of Mona, one of the OIB members.

Buffalo Billabong (cont)

I turned the 4wd toward the billabong and pulled up near the waters edge. Thirty metres away stood a juvenile, male water buffalo. Juvenile he may have been but he was still one big unit. He probably weighed around 300-350 kilos and stood around 180cm tall at his head. A set of fierce looking horns crowned his head. Each horn was around 30cm in length.

Now seeing a water buffalo standing in a billabong isn't that strange at all, actually it is relatively common in the Northern Territory. What set this buffalo apart was the fishing net he had wrapped around his head and horns. Now this wasn't the light fishing net you see weekend fisherman using but a costly, commercial grade fishing net that would have been lost from a fishing trawler.

The buffalo on hearing our vehicle and voices thrashed around in the water and turned toward the noise. Every now and again he would let out a bellow that really didn't have much ooomph to it. There was no telling how long that buff had been in the water struggling to get the net off. Tendrils of the net cascaded down either side of the buffalo and into the murky water. The net in its entirety must have been 10 metres long.

Everyone poured out of the vehicles and stood looking at the struggling beast. What should we do became the topic of conversation. One of the Aboriginal's said he wished he had his rifle as a young buffalo is good tucker. Someone else suggested we just leave the buff and let nature take its course. He said that there is probably a big crocodile lurking and waiting for the buffalo to tire itself out and when that happens it will strike.

But the general consensus was that we had to try and do something.

I suggested that I drive my car around to the opposite side of the billabong and try to herd the animal ashore. What we would do then, who knows?

I took off around the billabong and approached the water buffalo from the opposite direction, the buffalo was close to this bank, probably 10 metres away. As I came to a stop the buffalo turned to face me.

I got out of the vehicle and stood on the bank facing the group on the other side. The buffalo snorted and shook his head violently trying once again to rid himself of the net. His actions had no effect whatsoever.

"See if you can grab the net and pull him towards you," shouted someone from the opposite bank. Great advice, thanks that's exactly what I wanted to do, wade into a murky billabong and haul on a heavy fishing net that had a buffalo on the end of it.

"If you grab one end of the net, I'll wade across and grab the other and see what happens," Barry shout across the water. What a brave soul and a public servant to boot.

"Shit." I said to myself as my companion started to wade across the billabong. If I didn't do my part I would look like a real coward. As often happens in life the chance of shame overcame fear, so I took four or so strides through the water to reach the net. The buffalo must have seen this through a haze of thick fishing line and moved towards me.

"Damn!" Shouldn't I cut and run back to my car, afterall I was a government employee and this wasn't in my job description.

But as often happens in such situations, things just happen. Before I even realized what I was doing I had grabbed the buffalo by the horns. He shook his head and almost threw me off my feet. I was starting to wonder how good the government medical compensation package really was when Barry grabbed onto the opposite horn.

The buffalo hadn't seen this one coming and now he had a human hanging off either horn and a heavy fishing net over his head.  It just wasn't his day it appeared!

Barry and I then went on a merry dance as the buffalo tossed his head and frantically bucked. Thankfully he headed for the bank instead of going back into the billabong as I was still worried about a lurking croc.

Around and around we went, neither the buffalo or human getting an advantage. Once or twice either Barry or I lost our grip or were tossed aside only to quickly regain our feet to rejoin the fray. As fate would have it the buffalo was bought down by a slice of luck. It tripped. Simple as that. Somehow the buffalo's rear legs and my legs got tangled and it fell to the ground. In an instant Barry and I were on top of it.

It was now a matter of who was the most buggered by the wrestle, the buffalo or us.

One of the Aboriginals shouted across the billabong, "grab his tail and pull it towards you." I was the one who was furthest down the buffalo's flank so I reached back grabbed the tail and yanked it toward his head. The buffalo let out a bellow and shook his head a horn grazing Barry's arm.

"Hold onto the tail, don't let it go." Barry shouted. I had no intention of letting the tail go, the alternative was a mad buffalo and the safety of a vehicle that was 30 metres away.

All three of us lay there panting on the edge of the billabong, covered in mud with flies buzzing all around. It appeared that the buffalo was near the end of its tether and was prepared to accept whatever may happen to it.

There was no hope of untangling the net from around the buffalo's head and horns. "Someone grab us a knife and bring it across." There was a flurry of activity on the other side as Peter jumped in the vehicle and sped around the billabong to meet us.

"Nice day," Peter said conversationally. "Yeah, bit hot out in the sun though," I replied.

It seemed to take forever for Peter to get to our side of the billabong. He pulled the vehicle up in a flurry of dust and then realised that he had no idea where the knife was.

"Where's the bloody knife? He called across the water. "In the back, near the esky." Peter pulled open the doors at the back of the Nissan and started tossing items out in search of the knife.

"Who do you reckon will win the footy this year?" I said to Barry tring to take both of our minds off what maybe lurking in the muddied water. "Which do you mean the AFL, NRL, or Super 14?"  I was about to answer when Peter yelled out, "I got it."

Somewhat hesitantly he approached the prone buffalo who sensed his presence and gave a snort and a small toss of his head. I yanked hard on his tail .

"Pete, there is no way we can get this net off him unless we cut it off. Can you do that?" Barry said this in a quiet and measured voice which was admiral in the situation.

Peter bent down in front of the buffalo, his white jeans quickly taking on a muddy hue. The buffalo gave another small toss of his head in protest as Peter started to hack away at the heavy, nylon fishing cord. It was slow work, even with a sharp knife but bit by bit more of the buffalo's head was exposed.

"I reckon that should do it," Pete said. He looked at both Barry and I and we nodded agreement.

"How are we going to do this? I said. This would be the trickiest part of the operation because if we were successful  we would have an unbound and cranky water buffalo on the loose.

"Pete, you head back to the car." Pete didn't need a second invitation he got up and moved back to the safety of the vehicle. "Barry on three, just let go and head back into the billabong, okay?"

"Yeah, no problems."

I started the count, both Barry and I getting into a position to launch ourselves towards the billabong. "One."

And that is a far as I got as the buffalo must have realised that his head was free and he decided to take charge of the situation. The buffalo just got up and tossed Barry and I aside. Rather than worry about us the buffalo saw open plains ahead and bounded off without a look back. Barry and I looked at one another and laughed and then got out of the water real quick.

We cleaned up as best we could and then it took the three of us all of our strength to pull the fishing net out of the water and stash it behind a tree where it should be safe from wandering buffalo.

When we got back on the other side Barry asked the Aboriginal fellows why they hadn't come across to help. Without a hint of embarrassment he replied that he wasn't stupid, them buffalos can kill a man and anyhow you whitefellows had the situation under control. We couldn't argue with that wisdom.

We also asked him if he knew of any crocodiles in this billabong. He thought about that for a while and said he only knew of one and that was an old grandfather crocodile that lived over near that old gum tree. He pointed it out. It was no more than 50 metres away.

"Shit."

"When was the last time you saw him." We were hoping that it was a long time ago.

"Oh, 'bout twenty minutes ago when he slid into the water."

With that news three whitefellows just got a whole lot whiter!

akmacca08@live.com.au

BILLABONGS

My desk is positioned in such a way I can look out a large picture window that allows a vista that includes a sparkling lake and snow-topped mountains. I often sit and ponder what a difference this is from my immediate past life when I lived in a remote Aboriginal community in Arnhemland, Northern Territory, Australia.

Often I think back to that stage of my life and wonder how I ever came to reside there and what a lucky person I am to have had such an opportunity as when I lived in Ngukurr I had an amazing number of adventures and met some really interesting people.

These days when I am stuck for something to write about I can always revisit that time to come up with a good yarn.

The people of Ngukurr and the surrounding area believe that one of the ways to bring jobs and enterprise to the area is via tourism. The Roper River that runs through Ngukurr has some of the best fishing in the world and the local area is full of magical scerery and wonderous places.

Ngukurr is an untapped tourist market as the bumpy, dirt road that winds its way into the small community is a major deterrent to all but the hardiest visitor. If tourist ventures can be started in the region, infrstructure and local jobs will follow. This is the want of the local people.

With that in mind a small goup of government employees and Aboriginal Traditional Owners set out on a two day drive to discover and explore potential tourist attractions in the area.

On our travels we found rivers and billabongs everywhere overflowing with bird and wildlife. Unfortunately, many of the serene looking billabongs provided an ideal refuge for a monster saltwater crocodile or two. In one such billabong, far from saltwater we found a four metre crocodile baasking on the banks in the sun. The billabong was covered in a lush layer of purple lillies and once in the water you would never know where the croc was. You just can't take the risk to swim in any body of water in Arnhemland however still and isolated they may appear.

Jagged, dark ochre-coloured hills rose from the plain. Gum trees grew at impossible angles from the hillsides. The sun beat down. The traditional owners showed us a set of hills that house a collection of rock paintings. These paintings whilst important to them weren't sacred and they were prepared to allow tourists to come and view them.

The paintings were hidden from the elements under rock overhangs, some were faded and barely recognisable. You had to squint at the drawing's to make out the kangaroo, birds and fish. Stick figures ran all around the walls and ochre-blown handprints adorned the rock. The sheltered, shallow caves came alive with the forgotten action the drawings represented.

At different locations the rock drawings were much clearer and we were told that over the years they had been re-touched and repainted by decendants of the original artists.

One felt a sense of awe and wonder at being in such a place.

That night we camped under the star's. It was hard to sleep as the star's threw out so much light and effervesence. It is a well worn cliche but all the same a true one in that it appeared that you could almost reach out and touch the stars in the sky, they were that close. I just lay there for an hour or more just looking towards the heavens taking it all in and committing the sight to memory.

The next morning we visited the local billabong in time to witness the coming and goings of a multitude of birds who made their homes around the waterhole. Fishing lines were thrown into the water and good sized barramundi were caught in quick succession. Everyone kept an eye out for crocodiles.

After a delicious brerakfast we were on the road again heading for the coast. We picked up a local Traditional Owneer who was going to take us to his land on the coast to see if we thought it had any tourist potential.

The road to his coastal lands could be best described as a bumpy, twisting, dusty rut, but perhaps I am being too kind. This was the type of 4wd that affectionados lust after. All the while and Elder in the back seat told us about the country we were travelling through and what it meant to him.

After almost two hours of hard driving we were rewarded by the sight of clear blue ocean. The waters were so clear that from a hilltop vantage point we could see large sharks cruising off shore. From the same vantage point we could see golden beaches heading off in the distance for kilometre after kilometre and there was not one single person in sight. The Elder said that we were probably the only people to have been to this place since he was last here four or so months ago. Amazing.

But he still had more to show us and we mounted the vehicles to continue our journey, this time down the golden beach.

We had gone several kilometres when my passenger said, "isn't that a buffalo in the billabong? What's he got around his horns?"

I slowed the vehicle and had a look. It was a buffalo and he did have something around his horns. I turned the vehicle toward the billabong.

That's it for now folks if you want to know the rest you will have to come back. I know not fair!

akmacca08@live.com.au

VANCOUVER OLYMPICS

The Vancouver Winter Olympic Games are less than 3 weeks away and you can feel a sense of excitement buildng up around British Columbia. You tend to hear more an ore people talking about the Games and whether they will attend, watch them on TV or just ignore them altogether.

The Olympic Torch relay makes its way through the Okanagan Valley on Monday 25th and Tuesday 26th of January. No doubt Highway 97 will be blocked for much of that time causing some traffic chaos. I have been invited to go along but I don't know if I will, as watching someone I don't know carry a symbolic torch doesn't really do a lot for me.

Attending Olympic events is a different story tand we have tickets for the Ladies Half-Pipe qualifications and final on the 18 February and the 2 Man Bobsled on 20 February. What makes the woman's snowboarding event even more attractive to me is that an Australian woman is the favourite.

The snowboarding event cost $150 and the Bobsled $75. I saw on a ticket sales website the other day that a single ticket to the snowboard event is being offered for $650. A bit steep.

What we weren't told when we purchased our tickets was the fact that you would also have to pay for transport to the Olympic venues as no private transport will allowed in the Games precinct. So we have to drive to and park at one of the 2-3 designated pick up points and get on a bus that will take us to the venue. You have to book a time and then pay. But as you go through the payment checkout you can only pay by Visa Card as they are an Olympic sponsor. What if you don't have a Visa Card?

The trip to the bobsled event at Whistler they state will take around 3 hours and costs $45. The trip to the snowboard event at Cypress Mountain will take approximately 45 minutes and that cost $21.50.

The booking website states that at the snowboard event you have to be prepared to walk 1600 metres to the event including stairs. It isn't as long a walk at Whistler but you have to catch shuttles and do some walking.

All up four tickets and transportation cost us $1200. An expensive couple of days.

But that's not all, you also have to have somewhere to stay. Hotels that usually charge say $100 or so are charging $300 - $600 or more. Upper echelon hotels are charging in excess of $800 a night. A couple of cruise ships will be berthed in Vancouver for the duration of the Games and they to are charging ridiculous prices for cabins. 

We booked prior to Christmas but still too late to get a decent price. We will be staying at a spa hotel at Harrison Springs which is aroud 140 odd kilometres from the bus we need to catch to the games. Who knows what the traffic will be like getting to the bus pick up point as I have been told there are already traffic restrictions in place for the Olympics. 

So the costs coupled with the travelling MAY make attending the Winter Olympics more of a chore than a joy.

Watch this space.

Back In The Saddle

Back into the swing of things again after the departure of the kids last week. On Monday I dusted off the Asics and got back into an exercise routine. Of course being another year older since I last exercised just before Xmas made it so much more difficult.

No build ups for me straight in at the highest level and consequently almost killed myself. It has been a lifelong story. Get fit and enjoy it, then get injured or go away for work or just get plain lazy and lose all the fitness and then have to start from scratch all over again and again.

I am also back in the editing saddle. As usual I buggered around for ages until I actually sat down at the computer to edit. It has always been like that with writing or university assignments. I always find other things to do but once I commit myself to the task it works out fine. In two days I edited 36 pages which is the most yet. I should (will) have the edit completed by the end of the month.

The weather is still pretty murky here, just the one sunny day in the past 3 weeks. It is like living in London, except with scenery. Apparently because of the geography of the Okanagan Valley and the angle of the sun the weather won't start to improve until mid-February. That said it was 11c here on Tuesday. 

Off to the movies tonight to see Sherlock Holmes. The Penticton Cinema may not be the most salubrious cinema in Canada but seats only cost $6.95 which is a huge plus. When you consider that cinema tickets in Australia are now $16 or more $6.95 is a huge bargain. 

I have seen a few movies over the past few weeks. Avatar, Up in The Air and The Blind Side. Each one was worth the price of admission.  

It is school exam time here at the moment so there is a bit of stress floating around the place.

TOMMY TIPPETT

As regular readers to this blog will know I started this to promote a book I was writing. I had read that every aspiring author had to have a platform to promote his or her book. A platform can be a blog, website, Facebook or Twitter. Just one of them or if possible all of them.

You would also be aware that very little of this blog has pertained to my Tommy Tippett book. I finished the 85,000 word draft of the book in November after six weeks of writing and soonafter started the first edit.

I had completed around 70 pages of editing when I just got sick of it. I placed the book away and have just today returned to it after six weeks away.

I am now ready to go full-steam ahead to finish the editing process by the end of January.

To celebrate I am going to include an excerpt from the book.

Any comments, queries or questions would be appreciated.

Christmas school holidays were always a favourite time for Tommy, it wasn’t just that there was no school, it was a whole range of things. The days were long and hot so he had lots of time to play and explore. Some days he would walk down to the beach, whilst on other balmy, summer days he would just make up games and play with Ace. But the favourite of all summer pastimes was going to work with granddad on the truck.

In the summer granddad left home very early in the morning to do the first beach run. He had to empty all the garbage bins on the beach before the summer crowds arrived. Tommy would get himself up and dressed and have a bowl of cereal or a slice of toast before running outside to where granddad would be filling up the truck with petrol which was just a little bit of a chore.

There was an ancient petrol tank located at the back of the house the tank was necessary when granddad had a fleet of trucks and rather than fill up at a petrol station granddad had the fuel tank installed. Even though the fleet of trucks were gone the tank remained and it was filled every six months or so.

Tommy followed granddad to the pump. “Granddad, can I come with you today?” Tommy always asked if he could go with his grandfather even though he already knew the answer.

“You want to climb on board a dirty old garbage truck, ride around the beach picking up rubbish with your old granddad when you could be swimming at the beach or playing with your dog?” Granddad said this as he placed an oversized watering can on the ground near the petrol bowser.

Tommy automatically went to the long handle of the petrol bowser, grabbed it with both hands and started pumping petrol from the tank below the ground up through a pipe and into the glass bowl high up on the bowser. Tommy loved watching the honey-coloured petrol rush into the bowl and fill it.
“That’ll do Eck, we only need two gallons.”

Tommy stopped pumping and watched as granddad released a valve that allowed all the petrol in the glass bowl to escape, down a rubber hose and into the watering can. The can filled, granddad started to walk up the driveway towards the truck, the heavy petrol-filled can in one hand, the other arm thrust out to the side to balance the operation.

“Well I suppose if you don’t have any more pressing engagements or you don’t have to go to school or meet the Prime Minister, you can come.”

“Oh granddad you know it is school holidays,” Tommy said laughing.

“Well I forgot.”

“No you didn’t granddad.”

“Well I might have, you don’t know everything Eck.”

This was a well practiced ritual between them both. Granddad wasn’t the sort of man who would answer with a simple yes or no when the conversation could be dragged out somewhat.

They arrived at the battered old Ford tip truck, a truck that granddad had owned for almost 10 years. It was a sturdy old truck with a red cabin and green painted wooden sideboards on the tray.
On the drivers side door a skilled sign writer had penned the words in sturdy, black block letters: Thomas Tippett, General Carrier, Wellington Street Bondi, XY873408. The same sign writer had adorned other parts of the truck with scrolls and swirls, which gave the old Ford a jaunty look.
Granddad had once told Tommy that he had every truck he ever owned decorated by a sign writer.

“Why granddad?” Tommy had asked.

“Why Eck?” Well to make the truck attractive and to stand out from other trucks of course. What would you rather ride in a plain old sad truck or a truck like ours that is decorated and happy?” Granddad stood hands on hips looking at Tommy waiting for his answer.

“A truck like ours.’ Tommy answered without hesitation.

“Of course you would. Why when I had a horse and cart I used to get a sign writer to put all manner of swirls and lah-de-dah’s all over the horse, to make him happy and noticeable,”

“Really granddad?” Tommy was looking at his grandfather thoughtfully trying to weigh up the pros and cons between truth and tale.

“Oh Eck when have I ever told you anything that wasn’t absolutely a hundred percent true?” Granddad gave Tommy a hurt look.

“Yesterday when you told me at breakfast that too much honey is bad for you as it can make buzz instead of talk.” Tommy had now placed his hands on his hips and looked directly at his granddad.

“Well I thought I had read that in a scientific magazine, I must have got my facts mixed up, I was probably thinking of elephants.”

Tommy did not even try to fathom granddads response as he was so used to his wonderful nonsense.

HITCHIKING - NORTHERN TERRITORY STYLE

Before I came across to Canada I worked for the Australian Government in remote Aboriginal communities in the Northern Territory of Australia. It is a different world. This is just one encounter.

And not under any circumstances are you to carry civilians in your government vehicle, nor will you transport goods or animals. Your vehicle is to be used expressly by you for government business. Does everyone understand that failure to comply with this directive can result in immediate dismissal from government service?” The facilitator glared at the class daring any student to challenge his meager authority.


“Do you all understand?”

The class provided him with a few nods and a couple of yes sir's.


So why was I driving down a pool cue straight gravel road in the Northern Territory of Australia, in a government vehicle occupied by three Aboriginal passengers as well as their four hunting dogs?


I can say that I really didn’t have that much of a choice in the matter as the trio had planted themselves in the middle of the dirt road and basically demanded that I drive them and their dogs to their community.


Unfortunately this scenario was never discussed in my training to be a government worker in remote, Australian Aboriginal communities. Reluctantly I allowed them to climb on board.

“Hey, what does this one do?” asked the Aboriginal man sitting beside me in the front seat as he leant forward to press a button on the car stereo system.


He did not wait for my reply, he pressed down on the button and the music was cranked up to its maximum warp factor of sound.


The music boomed and filled the vehicle.


His buddies in the rear seat thought that this was a fantastic replacement for silence and they started to pound on the back of the front seat.

“I am stuck in Folsom Prison,” they sang along with Johnny and with each uncoordinated bang on the back of my seat my entire body was thrust forward.


It was around the time of “I hear a train a coming,” whilst trying to stave off concussion, mingled with dread thoughts of losing my job that the dogs in the far back of the vehicle began to fight, no doubt thrown into a web of excitement by their master’s off-key singing.


I was looking in my rear view mirror at the sing-a-long in the seat behind me, and the dog fight in the back when the bloke beside me said ever so calmly, “watch out for that big roo.”


“What roo?” I said flicking my eyes back to the road to catch sight of a large red kangaroo bounding across the road in front of the vehicle.


Now kangaroos are notoriously stupid. Cute, but plain out and out dumb.


This particular kangaroo must have been the cream of the crop because he had hundreds of thousands of acres to roam in. Within that acreage there was just this one single-lane road and on that one small road just was just one vehicle and this kangaroo had to launch himself across the road there and then.

There was a large thump as I hit the kangaroo broadsides. Nothing could survive that blow.


The music was forgotten and the dogs stopped fighting.


“Hey stop, stop,” the man beside me said urgently as he put his hand towards the steering wheel.


I bought the car to a sliding halt.


“You guys worried about the roo?” I said feeling pleasantly surprised at their act of concern.


“No mate we wanta get that roo and take him home for dinner, he’s a big one and will give us a good feed.”


“Oh,” is the only reply I could muster.


Later I drove into the Indigenous community with the large kangaroo tied to the roof of the vehicle, the unfortunate animal having bled all over the car on the way. The combination of blood, dust and wind had turned my formerly pristine white government vehicle into something that belonged on a cheap and nasty slasher film.


My passengers got out of the vehicle without a word, untied the kangaroo, placed it over a broad, black shoulder and wandered off.


I looked at my gore splattered government vehicle and tried to recall if we were warned about the carriage of dead animals and bloodied and battered vehicles.


No such warning sprung to mind which meant that my first day, of my last job wasn’t a total disaster.

LONG HAUL

Just back today from a return trip to Vancouver to drop my kids off at the airport. Their last full day in Canada was spent doing some shopping in Penticton. My daughter Kellie was particularly impressed with Wal-Mart and considered the makeup a steal. They also bought last minute gifts for home as well as a few odds and ends for themselves.

My son David stood out as he wore shorts and a Cronulla Sharks shirt. No one in Canada wears shorts and short sleeves at this time of year. They all looked at him as if he was crazy and he continually proved it by opening his mouth. Jessie was a little better though she couldn't abandon her penchant for wearing thongs.

We had a really nice farewell dinner on the Monday night and the big winner was the dog who scored a nice piece of steak and assorted vegies when Cameo dropped her plate on the kitchen floor.

Final farewells were spoken on Tuesday morning and we headed off for the four hour trip to Vancouver around lunchtime.

The weather was pretty miserable for the first part of the trip and we encountered dense fog on the first part of the journey over the Rocky Mountains. Not that the kidds really cared asa they were watching Lord of the Rings on the on-board DVD player and I had to drive along listening to Gandolf and battles with Orc's.

We encountered sunshine for about 80k's and then as we drew closer to Vancouver the fog and rain set in again. I have been to Vancouver 7 times now and on all but one occasion it has been raining. It maybe a pretty city but the weather is abysmal.

We checked into a hotel near the airport and had 6 hours to kill. I gave the kids their choice of dinner venue and not unsuprisingly they chose fast food. A & W to be exact. This Canadian chain is an institution here and pride themselves on their family of burgers. Hence they name their burgers Mama Burger, Papa Burger, Uncle Burger, well you get the drift. They also serve root beer in huge frosted steins. I have to admit A&W are my favourites as well.

Afterwards we went to the movies, a huge cinema complex near the airport that houses 18 cinema's. I have never seen so many people at the movies before and there was a Burger King as well as several other food outlets inside the cinema. We saw The Blind Side which we all thoroughly enjoyed.

It was back to the hotel time for a quick shower and off to the airport. There was a huge line up for the China Airlines flight to Taipei. The flight from Vancouver is a brutal 13 hours and then they have a ridiculous stopover of 17 hours stopover in Taipei before a 9 hour flight to Brisbane. Whoever came up with this schedule needs to give themselves a good, swift uppercut.

I couldn't stand seeing them waiting around the airport for that amount of time so I had to book a hotel for 2 nights to give them somewhere to put their feet up.

As always the fearwells were hard, I halways have a degree of guilt when I leave my children or they leave me. That said I was happy in the knowledge that all three said that they had the time of their lives whilst in the USA and Canada and I think at least one of them will be back fairly soon. It was a bit of a sad haul as I drove back to the hotel alone at 2330.

The trip back to OK Falls was much quieter today, no distractions or fights. Just traffic and miserable rain for the first part of the drive and thick fog over the Rockies. I arrived back at OK early in the afternoon to spend the rest of my birthday with Tammie.

So the house is so much quieter now and I have to start planning my next adveture. At the moment the only thing on the radar is the Vancouver Olympics in mid-February.

Stay tuned.

CANADIAN WINTER - ICE HOCKEY AND SNOWBOARDING!

Tammie and I took the kids to the local ice hockey game on Saturday night. None of us except for Tammie had ever been to a game so there was a degree of curiousity surrounding the game.

We attended the game in the town of Penticton and watched the local team, the Penticton V's play Quesnell Millionaires. The guys who play in this league are juniors aged between 16-19 and it is considered a nursery for the National Hockey League.

The Penticton Entertainment Centre is relatively new and the facilities are great. As you would expect there is a lot of razzamatazz surrounding the game but I find that adds to the attraction and excitement. We had great seats and sat back to enjoy the action.

The game is played over three periods with 6 players on the rink at any one time. The action is fast and furious, with players being changed regularly, ice hockey must be one of the fastest sports on the planet.

The V's who are leading the competition won the game 6-2. The consensus from the girls were that the players were hot and my son a rugby league diehard grudgingly admitted that he enjoyed the game and the skill and hardness that the players showed. It is definately a sport that we would all watch live again.

The next day we took the 50 kilometre trip to the Apex Mountain ski fields. The temperature was a mild -6c and the weather on the mountain was a sunny haze.

As the kids had never snowboarded before they took a two hour lesson. They had a ball and after many spills and crashes they gained some modicum of control of the snowboard. The weather turned sour later in the day but it didn't curb their enthusiasm ast all for snowboarding.

We picked them up late in the afternoon, tired a little sore and cold but with broad smiles upon their faces. It appears that most of the workers on the ski fields are Aussies and now a couple of the kids are considering a winter soujourn to Canada later this year to hone their new found skills.

My children rreturn to Australia late on Tuesday night so tomorrow we drive to Vancouver to meet the plane.

BACK IN BC

Well so much for constant updates whilst I was on the family roadtrip. Life and other things got in the way of writing my blog, oh and a touch of laziness as well.

As stated in the last blog we spent New Years Eve at the Peppermill Casino in Reno, Nevada. A huge monstrosity of 900 rooms. This was the first time in a casino for most of the group and they were overwhelmed by the buzz of the place, lights, noise and constant action. Being New Years Eve the place was packed, with all types of patrons from the well dressed to drunken 'good-ol-boys.'

Only one of us hit the tables and that was my son David. The drinking age is 21 so only three of the seven could legally drink. The tables and slot machines were packed and thick cigarette smoke hung in the air. Drunks were everywhere and security was having a fine time ushering people here and there.

We all gathered on an upper level to welcome in the new year. It gave us a birds eye view of the gambling and dance floor below and it was fun to watch everyone make full or semi fools of themselves. It was great to be able to see in the new year with some of my family and I certainly had a better time than last new year which was spent alone.

We all retired to our rooms in a good state as we had to be on the road early next morning. I think we were all glad to leave the glitz and glamour behind and get back on the road again.

We had another long day in the saddle and this trip consisted of a trip of the Sierra Nevada mountains which were clogged with snow and guys were making a killing placing and taking off snow chains. We went across the mountains on our all-season tyres without any dramas at all. The scenery was stark white everywhere and the temperature dropped as we climbed higher.

In the early evening we approached Los Angeles and of course the traffic. I have been to LA several times but never really driven there so it waas an experience driving from one side of LA to anaheim on the other. The traffic was dense and the speed was a constant 120-130kph, you really had to be atuned to what was going on around you as cars were zipping this way and that.

I miscalculated on the petrol and we had a few scary moments when it appeared that we may run out on the freeway but we managed to get off and fill up.

We found our Anaheim hotel okay and checked in. Basic and within an easy walk of Disney. We walked up on the first night and entered Downtown Disney, a road full of shops and eateries where you don't actually enter the park or have to pay. Full of tourists spending lots of money, a real melting pot.

I had come across a Disney ticket deal on eBay and after some negotiations and a little legwork I ended up saving almost $1000 on entry to Disneyland which was a huge saving.

We spent two days at Disney and that was more than enough for me. It is great and as they say it is "the happiest place in the world," but it was hot and there appeared to be scowls everywhere. The lines were usually long, but they have a system called fast pass where you can bypass lines. Everyone loved the thrill rides as well as some of the more sedate, character driven rides.

Nightime was special as all of the Christmas decorations were alight and the Magic Kingdom and It's a Small World were ablaze with colour and light. It's hard to beat a night at Disney!

After two days at Disney we drove to Universal studios and spent the day. The studio tour was great as were some of the other attractions and rides. I really thought Universal was better than Disney and there were way more characters walking around the lot and more shows to watch. There weren't as many people there either so the lines weren't as long.

Our last day in Los Angeles was a trip to Hollywood Blvd. All I can say about this place is that it is a bit of a freak show. All the action centres around Grauman's Chinese Theatre and this appears to be a magnate for various weirdo's who mingle with a large bunch of tourists.

One of the attractions is the stars on the footpath but after you have viewed a few, you are basically over it. The names and inscriptions in contrete outside the theatre are much more interesting but so to are the 3 guys who stand there with banners condemming just about everything in the name of god. Add to that Star Wars stormtroopers, Yoda, Catwoman, Marilyn Monroe and a couple of blondes dressed in tight fitting police uniforms....well you get the picture. You also have to dodge numerous black dudes who are pimping their CD's. If you listen they will tell you that they are the next 'big thing.'

All in all it is a bit of a rock show and not to my mind a great place to visit except to say that you have. That night we went and saw Avatar in 3D on the big screen and we all enjoyed the film, it was a good way to wind up our stay in Hollywood.

At 0630 the next day we departed LA and got caught in peak hour traffic, but soon enough were out on the highway again where bright Southern Californian sunshine gave way to a bleak mist and fog that stayed with us the entire day. We stopped in the mid-afternoon in a small town and saw a sign for a flea market and went along for a look. The funny thing was that it was basically for the Mexican community, it was a huge market but we appeared to be the only Anglo's there. Most of the advertisments were in Spanish. And this was in a small community in Northern California, it seemed more like we were in San Salvador or some other far off place.

We did the trip back in three days of driving through all conditions and all types of country from high mountains to stark, white plains. The biggest thrill for everyone was when I got pulled over by the Highway Patrol in Northern California. I had just passed a slow vehicle and was doing , by the troopers calculations 87mph in a 65mph zone. After taking my license and asking a few questions he went back to his squad car and returned with the sweet words of, "I am not going to give you a ticket this time, " and proceeded to give me a lecture which I listened to attentively. I must admit that it did slow me down for the remainder of the trip as this is the second time I have been pulled over and let off in the last 5 months in the USA.

We took the kids to Wal-Mart for shopping at Omak on the way to the Canadian border and they were impressed with the guns on sale and just how cheap some of the things were. The car was full to overflowing for the last 90 minutes of the trip to OK Falls.

To our suprise OK Falls had recceived a heavy snowfall the day before and the driveway was clogged with snow, we couldn't get the car up. To the Aussie kids this was wonderful and the daylight hours were filled with snowfights and one brave fellow went cavorting in the snow in his underwear. I disowned him at that time.

Tonight we are off to a ice hockey match. A first for most of us.

ROAD TRIP

When seven people in one car set out on a 2000 kilometre plus road trip, ones patience, tolerance,endurance and love of children can be sorely tested. When five of the seven are aged between 12 and 22 all of the above are tested that wee bit more.

Three of my kids flew in from Australia to join with my Canadian partners two children. We were a little worried about how they would get on, but we needn't have as they got on famously. In no time at all they were talking about music, the superiority of Australian fast foods and trying to work out just what each other were saying. To date, togs, ta and jumper appear to be favourites.

As we Aussies outnumber Canadian's on this trip I am sure that we will soon have them all talking very good strine.

After an exchange of Christmas presents and a introduction to Canadian beer and chicken wings the aussie kids hit the fart-sack to have a well earned sleep after their long flight. We spent the night at White Rock a lovely seaside town which is only a few minutes drive from the United States/Canada border.

Early the next morning we crossed into the United States at the Peace Arch crossing. We probably waited 15 minutes in the car line to get to the actual checkpoint. The US Border Security guard was taken back a little by the number of passengers in the Uplander van. As my kids had flown into Vancouver they had to pass through US immigration. So we were told to park the van and move inside to complete the registration.

We were directed to a parking lot by a gun-toting guard and everyone was ordered out of the vehicle and we were told to place the keys on the windshield. We moved inside the small building to be confronted by a long line of predominately asian people who were waiting to have their US visa's cleared.

I had forgotten my wallet and wwent back to the car to get it where I was stopped by a border guard and questioned about what I was doing. I was then escorted to my car to get the wallet. Sniffer dogs were being lead around the cars by handlers, poking their noses into wheel wells and along the sides of the vehicles.

I headed back for the long line and wait. The guy who processed us was very polite and accommodating which was a pleasant suprise. My three children were fingerprinted and photographed and I then had the privilidge of paying $18 for their entry into the USA. It was with a degree of relief that we left the building and exited the border crossing with freshly stamped passports.

So the real roadtrip south began.

Washington State was lush and green with tall trees and mountains, oh and rain, lots of it. We stopped at an Arby's restaurant to give the Australian kids their first taste of American fast food. The results weren't very complimentary. 

It was a happy car that headed south as stories were told and iPods were switched on between bouts of DVD's.  The kilometres were chewed up as we sped through town after town. Now you would think the highlight of the day would be the beautiful countryside or perhaps even some of the quirky Americans we spotted along the way.

But no. The highlight of the day and it appears the trip was the dead body they spotted beside the road on Interstate 5. We were caught in a huge traffic backlog the cause of which was and accident on the other side of the road. There must have been a fatality in the accident and the man was laid out on the road with a rough shroud thrown over him. We were going slow enough for them to have a good look and instead of fear or sorrow there was only curiousity and intrigue. In no time at all everyone was speculating on what had occurred. Almost the first words to their friends and family on the phone were, "guess what we saw a dead body." Charming!

We stayed at a town called Roseburg, Oregan on the first night. There was nothing particularly special about the place, just one of hundreds along Interstate 5.

An early start the next morning, well as early as can be expected with five young adults, I thought we did well to be on the road by 0830.

The day passed pretty much the same as the day before, lots of towns beside the road, some spectacular scenery in Oregan and a lot of traffic flashing past either way, hurrying no doubt to get to where they were going to spend New Years Eve.

The highlight of day two was a visit to the town of Weed, Oregan. Yes no misspelling, there is a town called Weed and boy do they cash in on it. Oncce again there is nothing special about the town except for the name and you have to get off the Interstate to visit it, but it appeared a large proportion of tourists do just that. A multitude of souvenirs filled the shops cashing in on the name which apparently comes from the town's founder. Or was it just a great marketing ploy cooked up at a town meeting years ago?

Just outside of Weed we spent time dodging various sized tumbleweeds that were blown everywhere by the strong winds. One attached itself to the car and was a decoration on the hood for many kilometres. We hit snow country as the three Aussie kids hadn't experienced snow before.

It was really a poor excuse for snow, just a small melting drift but it was enough for my son David to cop some down his pants and a snowball in the ear. Girls one, David nil.

We went into the high country as we deviated off Interstate 5 on our ay into Nevada. The road went from multilane highway to sigle lane road through farming communities. The trees were laden with snow, it was as though we were back in the Rocky Mountains again.

We arrived at Reno just after seven pm. It is a large gamling town but nothing at all like Las Vegas no strip of garish lights and fabulous casinos. That isn't to say that there isn't bright lights and large casino's in Reno, it is just that there isn't that many and they are spread out.

We checked into the Pepperemill Hotel and everyone was amazed by the size (900 rooms) and the bright lights. Our New Years Eve countdown had began.