New Year s Resolution Chapter 3
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It was somewhat chilly and damp when we arrived in Melbourne, but we'd brought warm clothes for our excursion. Budget had a car and the clerk was happy to advise us to drive via Ararat and highway 124, which we did, arriving before 1800.
During the drive we spoke about the government's latest research paper concerning the NT. Rachel wasn't clear about it; I was certain that it was poorly thought-through and would end badly.
The government research paper outlines an ambitious 20-year plan for the largely undeveloped region.
It includes proposals for new roads, airstrips, dams and changes to land-use laws to allow more development.
But one Aboriginal leader said he feared the proposal was a "Trojan horse" to undermine native title.
The government's white paper was a "welcome focus on the north" said Noel Pearson, an influential Aboriginal leader from Cape York in far north Queensland.
"But this approach is full of threat and full of opportunity," said Mr Pearson.
"Less opportunity than threat. They'll start some construction project, get flooded, and throw more money into the soggy pit."
"OK," said Rachel when I parked. "That's it for the week. No law, no art history."
While I registered, she gathered every pamphlet and list available. At least part of the next five days would be planned.
"It says the locals had six season in this area."
"Oh?"
"We're in chinnup, the season of cockatoos, with morning frost and chilling mists. It's the coldest time of the year."
"That's why we brought warm clothing. It's July in the mountains, dear."
"Brambuk has a Gariwerd Dreaming Theatre and one of the presentations is the local creation story involving 'Tchingal the giant emu and Waa the crow and the formation of the Grampians, ' it says."
"Might be interesting. I don't know that story. Anyway, we're in residence 5. By the way, they asked whether we were honeymooning. I told them that was long past."
"Fool!" Rachel looked at our vacation spot in wonder. "This is amazing! There's nearly as much space as we have at home! Plus a spa!"
"I thought we might devote a day or two to food, sleep and sex. Oh, and sex."
"Shouldn't we have invited friends?"
"They do have a larger cabin for two couples, you know."
"I didn't know. Isn't it dear?"
"Well, to put it briefly, yes. But when was our last true holiday?"
"When we saw the Ring."
"Nearly two years ago. And our combined parents paid for that. Now, let's wash up and drive into town for dinner."
Half an hour later we were sitting in the Kookaburra Hotel. I ordered kangaroo, but Rachel was conservative and just had spinach crepes. We had coffee, but I was fearful of driving a rental car where there might be frost if I drank wine. The filet came with a tasty mustard sauce.
We drove back to our 'residence, ' turned on the spa, and I got two glasses and a bottle of wine. We had a wonderful start to our holiday.
Brambuk, the next day, was a disappointment. Oh, it had some artifacts and many photos and models. But it was largely new and polished. The presentation could have been executed by a modern film company – perhaps it was. I had hope for a live person telling a story. And the shop carried throwing sticks and souvenirs, but they were all new.
Rachel pointed out that the site had a historical and educational role, and that it wasn't intended for me. She was right. But I was unhappy. "Too many illusions," I told her.
"Well, what would you like to do?"
"Walk. Let's go walking in the mountains."
The general form that the ranges take is, from the west, a series of low-angled sandstone ridges running roughly north-south. The eastern sides of the ridges, where the sedimentary layers have faulted, are steep and spectacular, beyond the vertical in places - notably at Hollow Mountain near Dadswell's Bridge at the northern end of the ranges. The most popular walking area for day trippers is the Wonderland area near Hall's Gap.
Grampians National Park (Gariwerd) is one of the richest Indigenous rock art sites in south-eastern Australia. Motifs painted in numerous caves include depictions of humans, human hands, animal tracks and birds. Notable rock art sites include:
Billimina (Glenisla shelter)
Jananginj Njani (Camp of the Emu's Foot)
Manja (Cave of Hands)
Larngibunja (Cave of Fishes)
Ngamadjidj (Cave of Ghosts)
Gulgurn Manja (Flat Rock).
The rock art was created by Jardwadjali and Djab Wurrung peoples, and while Aboriginal communities continue to pass on knowledge and cultural traditions, much indigenous knowledge has also been lost since European settlement of the area from 1840. The significance of the right hand prints at Gulgurn Manja, for example, is unknown.
I asked about walking shoes or boots at Boroka Downs and was advised to aim towards Stawell. So we drove there, found a sturdy pair of walking shoes for Rachel, together with several pairs of socks, and a pair of real boots for me. Driving back, I pulled off the road.
"OK, let's hike about five minutes back and then return. Even a few minutes of walking on the shoulder will help tomorrow. And it'll warm us up."
"How cold is it?"
"My guess is a bit under 10 [50 F]. We're nearly 1000 meters up."
"I'll take three or four layers tomorrow."
"And I'll peel my little onion."
"That sounds disgusting!"
Boroka Downs supplied us with a map of trails with local sites marked. They also supplied us with sandwiches, chocolate and several bottles of water. It was cool and damp. We drove off a bit before ten.
Our first stop was at Beehive Falls, there was a totally-unoccupied carpark and a sign, indicating that it was just under three kilometers to the Falls and back. It was a pleasant stroll and we chatted about what it would be like in a few months, when the wildflowers would be in bloom. The Falls were just that – waterfalls. When we got back to the carpark, Rachel said she needed to "fix" her left stocking. So I unlaced her shoe and pulled off her over-sock. Sure enough, there was a wrinkle at the heel.
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Christine looked around the room. It was all lit up for Christmas. As she looked across at the Christmas tree something caught her eye. It was an envelope caught between the branches."Huh... that wasn't there before," she said quietly to herself before walking quickly over to it, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor.She picked it up and studied it a moment. It was your standard Hallmark red envelope but on it in familiar writing was her name."What the fuck could this be?" she...
BDSMSarah was nervously fidgeting in her seat, her warm brown eyes constantly shifting back and forth between Mr. Wilson and the empty notebook on her desk. Sarah was a lovely combination of pretty and adorable. Her petite frame stood at 5’3 when on her tippy-toes. Her lovely pale-skinned face was adorned with freckles. And her long hair was a beautiful yet unusual shade of auburn. “Your mom said that you need help studying for your college entrance exams; is that right?” Mr. Wilson questioned. ...
Taboo[Like who was going to sleep with whom tonight.] That discussion was fast, furious and fun. With 9 people, 5-women, 4-guys and 3 beds it was going to be interesting. Since Sarah, Linda and Jamie would only allow one particular cock in their pussies AND demanded ALL of their guy’s deposits, they assigned themselves to whatever bed their guys were in. TJ, Janet and Mary decided to play ‘musical beds’ then planned to ‘sleep’ together. Greg and I slept with Jamie and Sarah, who both insisted on...
Rennis had fallen into a stunned silence. Roquan sometimes had trouble reading people over Farview. In his eyes, even the best pearls degraded the representation enough to lose subtle nuances upon which he relied. Thus the true intent of the silence was lost to him, and he had to guess. "Yes, it was rather a shock to myself as well when I had first heard it," said Roquan in a somber voice. "To learn that the very thing that I relied upon for so long was also the potential instrument of...