Gordy On WalkaboutChapter 18: Grafton To Moree free porn video

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After dinner I called Patrick and spoke to Rachel about invading her parents. With her encouragement, I called Chaz in Canberra. He was quite enthusiastic about a visit and wanted to know when I’d arrive.

“It’s Monday. I won’t leave before Wednesday. I thought I’d cross the Dividing Range, look at the MacIntyre in Inverell and stop in Moree. Then through Narrabin to Dubbo and from there to Canberra. But I want to stop in Cowra. I was there when I was a grad student, but the woman I was with didn’t know much history and I’m still interested in the garden and museum. So the earliest would be late on Friday.”

“That’ll have to do. Call on Thursday so we can finalize things.”

“Finalize! You’ve been corrupted by the bureaucrats in our nation’s capitol.”

“I’m one of those bureaucrats, Mister Director.”

“Talk to you in a few days. Kiss Michiko for me.”

“You can kiss her yourself when you see her.”

“Right. I’ll call in a few days.”

I told Evans and Willy that I thought I had imposed sufficiently and that I’d be leaving on Wednesday morning.

“What’s your plan for tomorrow?” Willy asked.

“I need to do a load of laundry, if you’ll let me; I need to fill the Rover with diesel and check the oil and coolant; and I’d like to see the trees.”

“The jacarandas?”

“Yes.”

“OK,” said Evens. “But I’m not parking under them. They get corrosive crap all over the car.”

“Can we just drive by?”

“Sure.”

“Can we take you for a final dinner out? Remember, you paid for all of us on Sunday.”

“Very sneaky, Willy. Of course.”

“Do you eat Italian?”

“Only if they’re tender. Though I suppose a ragout, as Swift suggests for the Irish, would be OK.”

“Har-har.”

“Will you phone Rosearia’s?” Evans asked.

“In the morning, dear. Actually, not until eleven or so.”

“If Gordy does a load and then starts the dryer and we take the Range Rover to be serviced, that’ll be good timing. Do you prefer Puma or Caltex? Those are the nearest. There’s a BP and a Coles a bit further.”

“I’m not devout.”

“Some folks are. Want a drink?”

“No, thanks. The sun and the salt air and the food are enough. I’ll wash up and go to bed.”

Tuesday went as planned. I “did” my clothes; then Evans and I drove the Range Rover to the Caltex and filled the tank and the cans. The oil and coolant seemed fine. Evans kicked the tyres knowingly.

We all drove to Li Garden for a good, not spectacular Chinese lunch and then across the bridge to cruise various streets downtown. The trees were, indeed, lovely, but the purple was quite overwhelming. We stopped at the Prince Street Coffee House and were back in South Grafton before 16:00. Willy had made a booking for 18:30.

Dinner was excellent. I promised that if Evans could entice Willy to fly down, I’d personally fetch them from either Sydney or Camden. I was up, breakfasted, kissed, hugged and hand shaken by ten.

I drove westward on the Gwydir Highway. It was named after a river and the river was named for some Welsh lord who took his name from a castle in North Wales. At first the road was just south of the Clarence and I had a glimpse of Susan Island. But the river looped away from me and I soon was getting further and further from it as the road climbed from Waterview Heights (18 m) to Jackadgery (107 m), past Calgai (87 m) over the Gibraltar Range (highest point 1170 m), down to Bald Nob (357 m), and up to Glen Innes (1062 m). It was just on noon, so I stopped at “Annie’s Fish & Chips” for lunch. The servings were large and the chips crisp. I got back on the road without looking at the standing stones.

The highway descended 500 metres in the next 60 or 70 kilometres and I was back down to 500 m in Inverell. I slowed down to look at the Macintyre River, flowing north-northwest. It was interesting. The Maranoa, near where I was born in Queensland, flowed south-east to St. George, where it merged into the Balonne, falling from 574 m to 207 m. And it’s part of the Murray-Darling. When I was a student, none of this was taught. I was already working in Brisbane when Fluvial Geomorphology was published.

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Chapter 18: Grafton to Moree Videos

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 6 Nockatunga Waterhole

We had some tea and a few quandong. The dried nut tasted like a rather tart apricot. We were too far west for bunya or macadamia. Joshua told me that they had had little rain, but that the waterhole seemed happy. I told him of my trip, especially the part from Cameron Corner to Epsilon Station, to Innamincka and my disappointment, and to here. A woman offered a bark dish of witchetty grubs and I took one. I expressed surprise at finding them, but Joshua said the women were good at finding...

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 23 Renewal in Sydney

I registered, thanked Cook and went for a walk across the bridge to the more fashionable side of Batemans Bay. I walked back to the hotel, went to my room and took a long shower. I got dressed and went down for lunch on the terrace. I had a salad and a beer and went back to my room. I must have slept as it was 15:00 only a minute or two later. I washed my face and went back to the terrace. I took volume II of Sturt’s Narrative with me. I was well into 1846 when a voice asked “How was the...

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 8 Nockatunga Waterhole Cunnamulla

Before noon the next day, Cook told me there would be visitors today. About an hour later, there was a good deal of noise and two ATVs popped over the bank of the waterhole and “parked” near the humpies. There was a crowd around them in a moment, so I hung back. Then one of the riders called out “Mornin’, Gordy!” and I realized these were two of the hands from Epsilon Station. “G’day. I thought you told me it was a three-day-walk!” “It is ... if you walk. Graham let us borrow ATVs from time...

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 12 Hastings River

The Hastings River starts high on the Great Dividing Range running east down through the picturesque Hastings Valley, through unique river towns such as Mount Seaview, Ellenborough and Wauchope before entering the Pacific Ocean at Port Macquarie. Fishing is popular particularly from October through to June each year with peaks during Christmas and Easter. The river has a wide range of fishing opportunities from freshwater bass and catfish in the upper reaches to estuarine species such as...

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 13 Leaving Port Macquarie

I felt much better as I walked back to Settlers Inn. Much better. I though of just where I was. Northern coast of New South Wales. I had old friends nearby. Well, only a few hours away. I got my phone book and sat down. There they were: Evans. South Grafton. And a phone number. I tried to call. Busy! What nerve! I’d shower, dress and try again before going out for a drink. But first I looked at the directory beside the phone in my room. There was a LandRover dealer here in Port Macquarie! My...

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 20 Canberra I

I walked to the front door and knocked. Michiko opened the door – petit, wearing a blouse and dark slacks, smiling. “You’re here!” “Obviously.” “Welcome to our home.” I gave her a hug. “You seem well.” “I’m OK. It’s been difficult. But the past week or so have seen improvement.” “Charles will be home in about an hour. Perhaps less, as it’s Friday and as he knew you would be arriving. Let me show you to your room.” “Should I get my stuff?” “No. Charles will want to help. It will make...

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 22 Kiama

I registered, thanked Cook and went for a walk across the bridge to the more fashionable side of Batemans Bay. I was relatively unimpressed. The cafes and windows looked like those near the Opera House, but Cook had been right: there were certainly more seniors than I’d have expected. I was too young to be retired. Or at least I thought so. I thought of having a drink prior to walking back, but picked the wrong venue. I wearing neither jacket nor tie. I shrugged to myself and walked back to...

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 25 In Sydney

Dinner with Winnie was a pleasure. We chatted about my wanderings and about the whole notion of loss and search; it was serious, but constructive. “I understand,” Winnie said. “I may not have been devastated when I became a widow. But it was sudden and unexpected. And it changed my life.” “Ten years ago.” “Over a dozen. Time flies.” “‘Tempus edax rerum‘ is what Ovid wrote in Metamorphoses [xv: 234]. ‘Time destroys all.’ Did you ever see Golding’s translation?” “What?” “Arthur Golding. A...

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 2

The paddleboat ride along the Darling was interesting, but noisy. I wondered whether folks brought unruly children in the hope that they’d fall in, but this was too far upstream to think they’d be eaten by a giant cod, like Ken in “Love Serenade.” But that took place far downstream, along the Murray. And it was just an idle fantasy. (The Murray Cod, which can grow to about two metres, is not really a cod in a Northern Hemisphere sense, but a giant freshwater perch.) But it was interesting to...

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 4 Cameron Corner to Epsilon Station

I topped off my diesel before leaving the hotel. I didn’t want to be stranded short of Cameron Corner. [Before I go further, I ought to remark that there are five places where there are surveyed right-angle state border intersections. Cameron Corner, surveyed by John Cameron (NSW) and George Watson (Queensland) in 1879, where the east-west border hits South Australia; Haddon Corner, where South Australia ends in the Channel Country; Poeppel Corner, where South Australia, Queensland and the...

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 5 Epsilon Station to Nockatunga Waterhole

The next day I had breakfast at 6 with several hands and then read in the morning sun for a few hours. Then, in mid-morning, I asked the “girl” about laundry. “You gibbit me, I do good job.” “That’s not necessary. I can do it.” “Not job for nungungi.” “I’m not nungungi.” “Nungungi dad’s nungungi.” I had clearly lost the argument. I appealed to my hostess. “Not a chance,” she said. “Better give in graciously.” So I did. Underwear, shirts, pants, socks. It was a decent-sized...

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 9 Cunnamulla

I called Patrick after dinner. After telling him about my trip, I told him that I’d visited CACH and met Wilgar. “I’ve heard of him. He’s an elder.” “So he said.” “You’re aware of the CACH’s role?” “No, but you’re going to tell me.” “OK. Back in 1999 the Queensland Department of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Policy and Development reported that Cunnamulla’s indigenous community suffered from a high level of domestic violence stemming from an over reliance by the police and the...

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 10 Narrabri and Armidale

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Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 11 Port Macquarie

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Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 19 Moree to Canberra

I was already feeling hungry when I passed through Narrabri, but I kept on till I got to Pilliga National Park. I stopped at the posting of the Park Service to see where the archaeological remains were. I lost both my appetite for food and for archaeology when I read: Deep in the vast Pilliga Forest lies exquisite Dandry Gorge and the magnificent Sculptures in the Scrub. This once secret location of the Aboriginal Gamilaroi People is now an extraordinary place for all to share. Visit the...

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 21 Canberra II

I looked at my notes. They were neither orderly nor compact. But they were terse and they represented, in some way, my thoughts. return to work find a place to live (do P&R want the house?) make friend[s?]? retire in eighteen months do something else (entomology; school; write;?) other? It didn’t look like much. Six points. The first and fourth were straightforward. The second was tough. Or was it? Did I want to relocate for two years or five or... ? If I were to retire, what sense...

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 24 Renewal in Sydney II

I pulled my list from my pocket. “While I was with your parents [nodding to Rachel], I tried to put together a list. But it wasn’t very long. In fact, there are only a few relevant items: return to work find a place to live (do P&R want the house?) make friend[s?]? retire in eighteen months do something else (entomology; school; write;?) And what I want to talk about is three or four of those. First, do you two want the house in Pennant Hills?” “I don’t think so,” said...

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 26 In Sydney II

I phoned Rachel when I returned to the hotel. “I met your friend Professor Wynne today.” “Oh, she’s a dear.” “Yes. To be blunt, I was wondering whether she’d be a possible friend.” “Hmmm.” “Which means?” “I’d never thought of her in such a way.” “Didn’t Patrick tell you what I said?” “Yes. But I worry.” “Foolish to worry about Winnie or – uh – Sandra.” “You’d enjoy talking to Sandra. She knows as many stories as you do.” “She lives near Kings Cross?” “Yes. On McElhone. I’m not...

Gordy on WalkaboutChapter 27 Relocation

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Gordys ProblemChapter 2

I called Sue after dinner but got her answerphone. I left a message asking her to phone me at home till ten or at the office in the morning. Weena put Sarah down — for most of the night, I hoped — and I sat with Patrick. He was trying to explain why the emu couldn't fly though her sister, the turkey, could. I knew the story but let him struggle with it. "And that's why the turkey has only two chicks," he concluded. "Do you understand that?" "No. Not all of it." "It's a try at...

Gordys ProblemChapter 3

I sat in the car for a few minutes. I really didn't want to go back to the office. I thought about the two books by Mountford with paintings by Roberts. Perhaps I could get them for Patrick. I looked up the number of Muir in Nedlands and called. No, they had neither. They suggested Serendipity. I called them to no avail, though the clerk there suggested Bonnie Doon and supplied the number. I spoke to a cheery woman there who said they had two of the three books. Unfortunately, one was First...

Gordys ProblemChapter 4

After chops, salad and chips, Rachel and Patrick performed their playlet. Rachel narrated. She explained that she was the dry wind and that nothing grew when it was too dry. Patrick was the wet wind and his rain made everything grow. They bowed and we applauded. "You're right," Chaz said when they went off for some milk. "About what?" "The stories. The myth and the play are about women being barren until the fertilizing water comes." "Yes. That had to be explained. That's what...

Gordys ProblemChapter 5

Friday morning I got to the office before nine, intending to read Chaz' quarterly report. But the phone rang right away — Mona wasn't even in yet. "Hollister." "G'day. My name's Morgan. I'm Shirl's dad. We met several years ago." "Right. I remember you. How's Shirl?" "She's fine. She's in Brisbane. Her boss in The Alice got her a fellowship and she got a Diploma in Plant Protection. Now she's finishing her doctorate in Agricultural Science." "That's a smart...

Gordys ProblemChapter 6

Did I mention that Patrick was in school half-days? Mornings. The same school as Rachel, who was a year ahead of him. After dinner, when both kids were asleep and Weena and I each had a glass of wine, I found out about Patrick's problem. Apparently, he had been fighting in the school yard. Actually, he had knocked down an eight-year-old and was sitting on his chest when a teacher 'removed' him. "Is there more to the story?" Weena had a gleam in her eye. "Is there? Is there! It seems...

Gordys ProblemChapter 7

Sunday morning around 10:30 Sue called to ask whether I'd seen the news of "the shake-up." I hadn't and she told me to read the reports on the Internet and then call her back. I read: Kevin Rudd has admitted his Government has "disappointed a lot of people" and let itself down by not living up to its promises or talking enough. In a candid interview with columnist Laurie Oakes, the Prime Minister admitted he had been too focused on policy details and had not spent enough time...

Gordys ProblemChapter 8

I tried to phone Sue, but got voicemail. I phoned my Mum, but was far more interested in her grandchildren than in her younger son. I promised her that Weena would call if there were anything to report from Patrick's school. And that was that. Mona wanted to know what I had been laughing about, so I printed the page from the BBC for her. She didn't "get" it. I explained that, apparently, Mr. Darrell felt that I had interfered with his real estate / development deal up in Geraldton — even...

Gordys ProblemChapter 9

Tuesday I went to SciTech with a box of dung beetles and talked about female ornamentation as opposed to the — far more frequent, except among humans — male colours, plumage, tusks, horns, etc. The remainder of the week was "normal." Not a peep from Canberra; not even an acknowledgement. I did talk to Sue on Wednesday, before taping another programme. She seemed to think that I should lie doggo until someone (anyone?) "wakes up" or "does something." That sounded fine to me. I thought...

Gordys ProblemChapter 10

Patrick may have spent most of Sunday reading The Jungle Book but I was quite involved at several points. I had to show him — teach him? -- how to use the reference books we had acquired. First, there was the atlas. Right at the beginning, Patrick wanted to locate the Seeconee Hills. I showed him the map of India and explained that place names change over time and that Kipling wasn't naming a precise location. But then Mowgli's jungle was in Central India, about halfway between Kolkata,...

Gordys ProblemChapter 11

I had two reasons for going to Dymock's: I wanted to get Kathy Lette's most recent book and I wanted to see what was available about Australia where Patrick was concerned. What Mum had told Weena was far from silly — and we had to keep him busy on the airplanes. Men: An Owner's Manual was easy to locate. And it wasn't even expensive. I then looked about for the woman who'd been helpful on Saturday, but failed to see her. I wandered towards the section Patrick and I had visited and...

Gordys ProblemChapter 12

I spoke with Mum on Monday. She was still a bit feverish, but was clearly on the mend. She told me she had been stupid to go out in the garden in low shoes. I told her about Maddy's husband's fatal error. I got home from SciTech relatively early on Tuesday to face another Patrick problem. He had been given a soft-covered book of rhymes in class. They had read "Jack and Jill." He had announced that the verse was "dumb, " adding "only an idiot would look for water uphill." All the...

Gordys ProblemChapter 13

It was hot in Roma. About 30C [86F], I'd guess. Sarah started fussing almost immediately. Patrick unbuttoned his shirt. Weena took Sarah and the nappy bag and went off to change and re-dress her. I carried the rest of the carry-ons. I luckily snagged a cart at the baggage carousel, which made everything a lot easier. By the time they returned, I had our suitcases and everything else stacked. "Why don't you stay in here with the junk and Patrick and I will go get the car?" I asked...

Gordys ProblemChapter 14

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Gordys ProblemChapter 15

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Gordys ProblemChapter 16

"Do you know where the nungungi is?" I asked Patrick after dinner. "Different place. Band went to Lake Hondra for fishing. Too many tourists. Walkabout south of Charleville. Now between Wallal Bore and Bakers Bend. You're supposed to know." "I do. The band went on walkabout to Lake Hondraman for the fish, but when they got there, there were too many white folks, so they went east. They're off the Mitchell Highway. It'll take us about three hours. If we leave here by eight, that...

Gordys ProblemChapter 17

I pulled onto the verge just past Mungalla. "Are you okay?" Patrick nodded. His eyes were red. "Sad about not seeing the nungungi again?" "And the ranch, too." "Yes. Many changes. For many people, life goes on placidly, without storms or changes. Our lives, yours, Sarah's, Mum's, mine seem to thrive on change. But it doesn't ever get easy or even painless. But that's what life is." He nodded. "Back to the ranch?" "Yes." I drove back. It was really nice to turn into...

Gordys ProblemChapter 18

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Fetish

Wife Sells ShoesAnd More

Recently my wife starting selling clothes online - pants, tops etc. Even some of the kids clothes they grew out of. I told her maybe she should get rid of some of her old shoes and boots too, make room for some new ones. She really had no interest so I told her I would sell them for her. She thought I was just being perverted so she shot me down. After a few weeks of her listing stuff and not really selling, I offered my help again. This time she seemed interested but I told her there would be...

Fetish

Good Girl No More

Okay, some of this story is true but unlike the last one most of it is only a fantasy of what I would like to happen with every part having a little truth to it. The beginning is totally true.She did it! Or more accurately we did it. My wife reluctantly went down the road of no return. She is now a total slut! I encouraged her to be the slut she is today because of my own personal needs of perverse pleasure I derived from seeing people fuck in front of me. I figured my wife would be the best...

Faith No More

FAITH NO MOREByLatex ConservativeMy name is Faith: I have none, Sadden for I have no one,To share my love, the opposite sex,Forthe second skin, tight black latex.How I love it, deep in my core,When I wear it, Faith No More.Left me here, Eric my dear,Accident they say, so I hear.Our love strange, a bondage affair,Breath Play fun, miss death by a hair.In fetish heaven, his soul will soar.Truly alone I,his Faith No More.On this night, I have a dream,He and Ifuck, we make cream.From his cock, from...

Quickies 2 Quickies More

1. Morning, Sunshine The day of my quickie record was a Friday, but I only realized that I had made that record the next day. I woke up in my bed, spooning with my Swede, both of us naked. She was sound asleep still, exhausted from the previous night. I had been a bit exhausted, too; jizzing ten times in one day will have that effect. It was then that I tried to remember everything that had happened the previous day, and I realized that I had made a new record for myself. I was...

Just A Little More

The old man came home drunk again. Michael could hear him clumsily closing the front door and dropping his keys on the floor. The he trudged up the stairs and down the hall. He could hear him mouth breathing as an out-of-shape old bastard does. He was probably sweating, too, as usual.Michael knew what was next. He leaned his ear on the wall in the place he knew he'd hear the best. The old man stepped into the bedroom and Michael heard the bed squeal in pain from the mound of drunken flesh that...

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