The Adventures - part eight

When one, especially when the one that is the one who writes informative articles such as the Adventures, and the one does not like to extol his own virtues, be they many and abounding, and in copious amounts, along with this particular writers modesty, which is not usually the case with someone so brilliant and unassuming who only assumes that you know that what I am saying is true, and that if you had such brilliance you would be as modest as me. Am I right? Of course, I hear the reader shout.

However; it is important that you become familiar with the particular attributes of the main characters of this marvellous bit of Outback Adventure. This is where my modesty often prevents me from describing Old Pete as I have entered him in the story, but he is, in fact, and in Fair Dinkumness, for real, no worries sport, my altered ego. and therefore and ergo, plus albeit, everything that is a personification of my good self, except for the bits when he is rather dumb and dim-witted. However; my modesty prevents me from actually saying that, so I writ it, hey?

So, hereinuntoandaforesaid: is a description of Old Pete as I see him: Old Pete is one of the special class of old(ish) gentlemen of the Outback. He is a mild mannered person that could tear a buffalo in half with his bare hands, although in this later years he has used gloves to protect his manicured fingernails, well to be honest, not so much the fingernails themselves but the paint work on the nails depicting his time when he trained Crocodile Dundee to emasculate these creatures using only his teeth, as he did not have his teeth manicured and painted at the time, but, with the flexibility of Old Pete's persona and personal personage he could change.

Old Pete's strength lies in his power of muscle, and not in the length of his hair, as we found when he tried to push two pillows apart when his hair was long, and he couldn't just as he couldn't when it was short. Well when I say, couldn't I actually mean could, and did, but as they were only posturepeadic pillows we did not think that it reached any great merit, and sometime I use couldn't when in fact it was a very poor could, ifn' ya' know wot I mean. Next time we might try pillars instead and that will put to rest the could that should be couldn't, or Vicky-verka.

However, he has great strength of character, and the character of Old Pete, being as we are our altered egos, has been know to lift hearts to song, to lift the spirits of those dispirited, and some small change off the bar of the local pub, like Old Notty, but that's another story.

His personal appearance was something I gave great thought to, and he is rather handsome in regards to the rough, Outback hewn handsome type bloke. He has myopic pale blue eyes, nicely spaced, one each side of his long thin nose, with a mouth below, but just above the chin. This is where he keeps his pearly cream coloured teeth, which are often interspersed with spinach, lamb chop bones, possibly the tail of a goanna or so, but which also he applies diligent hygiene in so far as cleaning these munchers with lumps of charcoal from the campfire. however, this practice has established some chipping of the chompers, as he has been known to pick up a blackened rock and chew on it before realizing its hardness content, which, of course, never stopped him from biting said rock into small pieces....Things do not come quickly to Old Pete, most times.

Our ,man of the minute was very adept at adapting his adaptability to an adeptness beyond and above the call of the wild. For instance; there is more to riding camels that just sitting on the back of one, first one has to know 'cush' and then one has to know how to get them to ' un-cush', right? Then there is the art of turning a camel without tearing its nostril from its face by the button that is situated therein said nostril , not for the use of wot I just said, but for the turning of. One also has to balance oneself so that the sudden start of a V8 camel does not unbalance one, or more if you are doubling up with someone else. There are many camels still sneezing at Old Pete's early days as a camel rider

Another great trait of this straight man is his gate. mate. No not the one on his house in the Burbs of suburbia but the one that shows in his long lean to skinny legs as he strides about in his long strides (An explanation here: Us Aussies call trousers, strides, ya' see?) covering much of the Australian landscape as his gate will allow. Back in suburbia, Old Pete's neighbours got up a petition to stop the Old fella having his morning run, the reason, the smell of his burning joggers was considered a pollution problem; however (what would I do with out you?) Old Pete fixed that by running bare footed, and there was nothing in the local council legislation, or ordinances in relation to burning foot flesh, but many of the population did suffer an Old Pete foot fetish.

Meanwhile, back at the oasis, Old Pete and Heidi had finished loading the cargo camel, where upon the intrepid adventurers set sail across the desert. Now before you go all technical on me about setting sail, let me ask you this question: Are not camels also called Ships of the Desert...I rest my case.  There is something about Arab seamen in this story, but I can't quite remember what it is.

The camels had enjoyed the sojourn at the oasis, and the rest had done them no harm either. The rest being like in restful, not as in the rest as if something else had been provided other than a rest, in contradiction to 'the rest', as is meant in other circumstances pertaining to rest, not to be confused with the 'rest my case' in the paragraph above, unless that paragraph has moved to another page, whereupon it would be in some other position. that is why I used the word sojourn so as not to be confusing, inf' ya' know wot I mean.

Heidi asked Old Pete would he mind if she took advantage of the slight breeze of the early morning by removing most of her clothing which consisted of a T shirt and shorts, but before Old Pete could object, (yeah right) she had divested herself of all apparel and her meagre clothing as well, and sat like a golden goddess up high on her mounts back.

"What if someone come along and catches you, Heidi?" Old Pete was not expressing his concern, he was just having intercourse of the social kind.

"I ride dis camel wiss my eyes shut, Old Pete, I not fall, so no one has to chatchenheimer me."

"Hokay". Old Pete conceded.

Old Pete had to admit that Heidi had a good seat on the camel, and while he was at it he also conceded that Heidi had a good seat off the camel, as a matter of fact, or so Old Pete conceded, Heidi had a good all round seat for all occasions.

There was some determination in Old Pete's mind to avoid another spooky sign that would disclose to all and sundry as to where he was. I don't like to bring the thought to mind but I do believe that my mate, and now your mate, is becoming a little paranoid about the Tourist Advisory Board, which, in Old Pete's mind has taken on the persona of ASIO.

ASIO, of course, for out non-literate persons, who for some self flagellating reason are persisting with trying to make a little sense of this load of absolute non-literate- nonsense, is (are you still with me) the initials of another government, bureaucratic, tax bleeding department known as Australian Sign Institution Organisation, and are an intraregional part of the Tourist Advisory Board. So, you now see how it all fits together, and may have some sympathy for Old Pete's paranoia.

Or on the other hand you may not.

Personally, I as in me, wot writes this rot, only has one paranoia, which is defined in the definitive terminology of definition as being Panaphobia, and as I do not deal with too many pans, it is of no great concern.

As for Heidi, this loveable girl seems to have no fear at all. I will iterate one experience, there may be others of course, but I ain't thought them up yet, but this one time she came over to Dear Old Pete, of whom, Heidi thought as being a dear in his personage, and a loving friend that always looked out for her, especially when she was swimming naked or bathing, or just walking around in the same manner of attire. However, ones eyes do get sore and very tired in the desert so no one, let alone me, or you, or anyone else could blame old Pete from resting his eyes on such a soft and comforting subject; now could you, I mean really. Plus, it was his duty to look after Heidi and this is why she thought he was a dear, Right? Good.

Now, where were we, the one time story:

"Old Pete, dear, I love the little furry critters of the Australian desert. Pliss, vood you teachenheimer me some names?"

"Yes, certainly, my sweet innocent Heidi, to start, that furry critter on your arm is what we call a tarantula, and with those eight inch legs, it looks like a nice specimen, too".

"OO! it tickles with its furry legs, and all the eyes lookinheimer up at me iss maka' me laugh."

"Yes, they do that sometimes. Now be a good girl and take it back to its mummy and daddy before they come looking for their little baby."

To show the accuracy of this work, I have cross referenced this particular incident with another wonderful bit of information for the reader to check. You will be delighted to find further description of Heidi's furry critter,  the one on her arm, in "Loveable Little Critters".

"Oh! dear Old Pete, mummy and daddy trantelope verr so vunderful. They invite me to stand on their backs and then took me for a ride like I vass on rolla-skatenheimers with eight wheels."

"That's nice, Heidi, I am glad you are fitting into life in the desert." Old Pete's, dear old Pete's paternal instincts came to the surface where his paternal thingo's usually sit.

Do you wanna' hear another time with furry critter's? I knew you would.

Heidi was out playing with a herd of dingo pups, which, before we get too deep, I will explain why herd.

Old Pete was out with a mate one day, long before this camel trip, and they saw some dingo pups. Pete's mate said "mob of pups", whereupon old Pete set him straight by correcting with "Herd". His mate., being a a 'roo short of a mob in the top paddock, asked "Heard of what?". Whereupon, not wanting be left out of the said whereupons, Old Pete answered "Herd of Dingo Pups".

Mate naturally said, not to look ridiculous as a bushmaster of old, uttered, "Of course I've heard of dingo pups". Old Pete, ever so ever tolerant to those of less toleration said in a coaxing voice, because he had left his Valium at home, "Na! Ya' Freakin' idiot, the "Dingo pups Herd". followed by Mate's "I don't care ifn' they did, I didn't say nuffin' I shouldn'ta had".

The desert can do strange things to some people, but as I have said before, it is fair as people do strange things to the desert.

But ( In place of however) back to Heidi's story with some furry critters, when she was playing with a litter of dingo pups, which reminds me of the cat that swallowed a great big ball of wool, six weeks later it had a litter of mittens.

It seems, according to Heidi's story of the adventure, that there was a mob of big red kangaroos munching on the lush pasture of the Simpson Desert near by. Heidi did not see that the father of the litter had arrived on the scene, nor did she see the beginning of the 'roo stampede, but she was taken up in a moment of excitement as a female 'roo scooped Heidi up and shoved her in her pouch thinking that Heidi was her joey.

Every time Heidi tried to get out of the pouch, she was shoved back in, or maybe she was pulled back in, as there was also a fairly well developed Buck Joey sharing the accommodation. It wasn't as bad as one would think, the 'roo pouch had two teats producing good healthy milk, so,Heidi resolved to settle into an up and down existence of the kangaroo, and hopped around the country side for a time, like a tourist on a bull ants nest.

When Heidi started to eat grass on her own, the female 'roo tossed her out to fend for herself.

Old Pete had looked high and low for Heidi, he was devastated at the loss. The amount of money and time he had spent on this trip so far, and his camel handler has not only gone to the dogs, but to the 'roos as well, also, looking high and low was a bit stupid, I think, as it is known by almost everyone in this country that Kangaroos cannot fly.

"Hi, dear Old Pete, did you missen the little Heidi-kins?"

"I certainly did, the camels are starving."

Now before I get too far from this factual account of Heidi's adventure in the pouch of a 'roo, let me explain that I am only reiterating the event as told to me by Heidi, otherwise you would think I was just making it all up.

However, I haven't been able to cross reference this part of the yarn, just yet.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Adventures Part 15

Adventures Part 15.

Marrakorpa and his delectable bride, The Elk, met up in the Birdsville Pub one race day . Marra could not take his eyes of The Elks blue singlet, her ample bosoms hanging like two fully filled potato sacks, only a bit smother, her khaki Bombay bloomer shorts revealing nothing of the figure that lay beneath, or hid beneath, and the eye catching Bloodstone boots, which every discerning maiden of the Outback will wear on almost most occasions mostly. The only time they are not worn is when in bed with a delicate man, or, of course, at mother's place, for those that actually had a mother, or could remember where she might be at, at any particular time.

The Elk had found a creek, which instead of pebbles, had gold nuggets strewn about like someone had strewn them about, and around on the ground, well the bed of the creek ifn' ya' wanna be pedantic.. Elk, of course, kept looking for a pebble to use in her slingshot so that she could pop of a decent sized goanna for supper. It wasn't until some time later that the Elk just had to use a gold nugget, of which she put several in her pocket for later shots at the local wild life.

In the Birdsville Pub, The Elk dug in her pocket for some small change to buy herself a cool jug of beer, but could only find the nuggets, these she plonked on the bar and asked the publican if they were worth the price of a beer.

“Elk,” Said the publican, “You could get well and truly drunk on these little bits of gold.”

“Yeah!, wot do I do swallow them whole or wot?”

“Na! Elk, they are gold, and gold is good barter anywhere in the world,” The kindly publican told her,” Just keep drinking and I'll tell ya' when ya' run out.”

It was at this time that Marrakorpa fell in love with the Elk, not because of the gold, nay verily, it was the pure essence of the Elk, and the aroma had something to do with it as well. A close encounter with The Elk would bring to the nose a faint stench of the feral pig, mixed with the erotic aroma of a camel's arm pit.

As it turned out, the creek full of nuggets would remain The Elks secret, and would provide her with all the spending money she needed for the rest of her life, and as it turned out, for the rest of Marrakorpa's life as well.

The happy pair, twosome, couple or whatever decided to build themselves, and I mean themselves, a homestead in the Territory, as this is where they had often travelled in their youth when they were younger than they are now, not that they are old or nothing, just they are not youths any more, having shed their youthdom as they aged to being older, but whatever you do don't call them youthless.

Marrakorpa and The Elk searched the country side for rocks, as it was their bane to build a house of stone upon sand. After carrying about thirty tons of this heavy material to the home site, Marrakorpa, AKA Marra started the construction whilst the bride went for more rocks and a couple of pockets full of gold nuggets.

After a year they had what resembled an underground cave, only it was above ground, and with the other recruitment, like the swimming pool builders, the lawn suppliers and the landscape gardeners that the nuggets flew in on regular working parties, along with a few Hercules cargo planes of bits and pieces the place started to become the talk of the neighbourhood, even if the closest neighbour was three-hundred miles to the west, but he was a bit of a chatterer, so he talked about the place to himself mainly.

So, headed the intrepid travellers who approached from the South East, according to Old Pete, but from some other direction according to navigational positioning was concerned.

It was the likes of Old Pete that coined the phrase “Dead Reckoning”, as anyone who used it was usually found dead in the desert because they reckoned they knew where they were going. No, that's being unkind to the Old Fella, I mean he has to the girls to where they are now, which will be revealed at the next “You Are Here” sign.

Reddie was a tad annoyed at being the last one to camp of an evening, what with the speed of the V8 camels and the speed, if you could call it that, of the VW Combi, so the kindly Old Pete let Reddie ride his camel on a few days and he drove the Combi,. Wasn't that sweet of us, I say us because we are two of a kind, kind, kind of, considerate, and of course, modest as modest is.

Once Reddie realised the camel would make her sea sick, hence the ships of the desert, she lamented loudly, lavishing long and laborious laments located liberally towards Old Pete, the desert, the lack of concern from Heidi and less from the camels.

“Oh! Alack and Alas, Woe is me, wot for art thou sufferance but the toil of my endeavours, the lament of my soul, the curse of my existence, the bane of my being, and such and so on and so on.”

“Aren't you happy any more, My love?” asked Old Pete.

“What gave you that idea? I am thrilled to the boot tops, or would be if I was wearing boots instead of these sand shoes, but they never had any sand boots, so that's the way the gravel crunches.”

“One more day, by my reckoning, and we will be beside the large pool, sipping mint Tulips and Sliced slimes.” Consoled the Old bloke.

“By your reckoning? Oh! Joy.” Answered Reddie in a rather redolent manner, as it was a stinking thing to say.

However, (Ah! I thought you had deserted me), Old Pete's reckoning proved correct this time, as it was aided by the sight of the large tower that adorned the Marrakorpa and Elk mansion, just a days ride from whence it would take about a day to cover the distance between where one would be if they were a days ride from the place.

What intriguing matters will occur on the arrival of the travellers. What new adventures shall they enjoy. What, what, I ask you, just what?

Monday, February 11, 2013

The Adventures - part fourteen

The Northern Territory border lay in the distant desert, defining districts determined during days departed. Borders were struck across land masses, messes were made of the masses and a morass of maps and masses with border messes amassed the landscape like tracks and missing roads, and even missing tacks that went missing after the last long lapse over-lapped the lip of the elongated line that suggested a border may have been seen here at one time or another, or several other times, which ever came first.

However, with the true art of the well taught bushman of the Outback, the man with knowledge far beyond his own comprehension and understanding, served him purposefully when he needed to become confused, which with his knowledge was often. Sorry, I am speaking of Old Pete, the master of the unmistakeable, the maker of the unbreakable, the Kooka in the Burra, the bird in the nest, friend to all and sundry, although sundry does irk him sometimes, this is the man of whom I now speak. This mild mannered reporter, who once writ summit for the Daily Planet, this man that with keen sense and acumen, with his eye for the stars at night, when else, he did some dead reckoning to aim directly for the border at a set point that would put his trusty camel cavalcade clearly coursed correctly, and to which Old Pete's directions and massive complicated calculations had them a mere three hundred and fifty miles off the designated spot of crossing.

To which the intrepid Old Pete offered his comment “Close enough, it don't have ta' be exact, ya' know?”

“Just as well,” Sed Reddie who had stayed in the rear of the camels, suggesting that the old fella keep a watch on her so she didn't get lost.

To which, naturally, Old Pete was deemed to say, “I already got a watch on ya'.”

“And he is gotta' watch on me, ya'?” sed Heidi.

“I had a watch on you before I had a watch on ya.” Old Pete giggle at his wonderful sense of humour. He could spend hours telling himself jokes, mainly because he forgot jokes really quickly and to tell them to himself again was like telling them for the first time, so he giggled a lot..The desert can do that to ya' sometimes (giggle).

It did not take much of a correction to correct the needed corrected calculation calculated to correct the previous incorrect calculation that caused the course to be considered off course, of course. To this massive study of stars and maps, and maps and stars and stuff, there was ,the, not unexpected Tourist Advisory Sign that stated, in a most affirmative manner, that “You are Here”, and , of course, if you are setting a course that needs a course to be set, more accurate than the second hand on the Greenwich Clock that can be very mean, sometimes. Why they call it the second hand, I cannot at this particular time explain why, as to the best of my knowledge, the Greenwich Meantime clock has three hands. Having said that, let me say this, work it out for your self.

In that short space of time that it tool you to read all the informative information informing you of the circumstances that currently creates a bit more of the Adventures, the Cavalcade of camels and cargo and combi had traversed well into the Northern Territory and well on their way to the well that will find them at Marrakorpa's humble homestead.

“Should make Marra's place by daylight tomorra'.” Old Pete uttered with a little less confidence than he had at declaring the border crossing.

“Is this calculation taken from you little book of border crossings, darling?” Reddie asked innocently, not meaning anything sarcastic, or demeaning, as it is known that she can be de meaner than that comment ifn' she is pressed.

Old Pete was feeling pressed, the pressure of having two beautiful, intelligent women in the camp, along with three very smart camels, left the old bloke wanting sometimes. Not sure what it is that he is wanting, but it seems the more naked the girls get the more wanting he gets, and to be a bit gossipy, he gets what he wants from Reddie.

It was not long before the master desert traveller noticed something on the horizon. Putting his hand to his forehead, which he carried on the fore of his head, he could not quite make out the shape, so in the old tradition of t he Australian bushman he put the other hand on the hand on his forehead so that he could see twice as far, and sure enough the shape he could see was a shape that was not unlike something that he had seen before, only the previous time he only needed one hand to see the shape.

“Must be needin' glasses,” He muttered to himself.

“Vass is that shape on the horzonenheimer?” Heidi hazarded a question. She was still a bit sceptical, and not so sure of the old fella's desert knowledge after the border crossing incident.

“You saw it too?”

Nine, I iss only guessing that something iss on horizonenheimer.” Sarcasm was like syrup around the camp.

“Well, ya' guessed right, smarty pants, ifn' ya' had any on, there is summit on the horizon.”

“Vell Vot iss it then?”

“Looks like a sand dune.” Old Pete could be very wise if he really tried, but that was not one of those times.

“Na! I can not belief in thass. Nine,not a sand dune out here in diss desert.” The sarcasm had turned to molasses.

“Well, we will wait until we get closer.” Old pete said, riding above the derogatory comments that were meant to derog, his words, but only in fun.

Little did Old Pete know, but the lump on the horizon was, in fact, the outskirts of Marrakorpa's spread. Not that Marrakorpa lived in skirts, but he has been known to skirt around the outskirts of many a skirt in his time. Not that he is going to see much of a skirt, either out or around, with the arrival of Reddie and Heidi. Not that Reddie and Heidi will skirt around Marrakorpa's spread wearing their usual attire, which was nothing to sneeze at, as you would be only sneezing at bare skin, and that's rude in the desert country, sneezing on someone. Not that Marrakorpa had a personal spread, as it is referring to his property. Not that his property is not spread like a skirt in a stiff breeze, ifn' ya' know wot I mean. Not that I expect you to know wot I mean, ifn' ya' know wot I mean.

However, time was a passing, days were passing, the weather was passing to something a little less hotter that the 55 degrees that has helped the travellers with the travel, which is what travellers do when they are travelling, travel, I mean.
So, soon, the travellers will reach the mansion of Marrakorpa and his delectable bride, The Elk.
So hang about.

Saturday, January 26, 2013

The Adventures - part thirteen

And so it came about, in the day of Heidi's birthday celebrations, and in the year that she was turned the extra age that caused her said birthday, and birthday suit parading, we find that the Truck Stop Operator, named John Stanley Bartholomew Alfonso Robert McGillicuddy, and known to his many friends and acquaintances as Lucky, realised that he had indeed earned his title on this day.

Heidi, of course, knew that she had to complete, with Pete, whom she thought sweet, this trek. No one else could handle the camels like Heidi, as Lucky found out, because he had watched her handling the camels, and things, and knew from experience that her handling ways were handled with the expertise of and expert handler of camels, and things.

Lucky had acquired a casual worker to look after the truck stop, and was not particularly concerned with the operation of the place, as a matter of fact he had forgotten what a Truck Stop looked like because of the double vision that Heidi caused as she bounced by.

And so, it also came about that this infatuation must be cast upon the sands of the desert, so that it may pass through the hour glass, which takes up to twenty minutes sometimes, and he will have to become rich and famous, more rich than famous, before he can ask for Heidi's hand in debauchery again; however, that is The days of our Lives here on Ramsey Street where only the bold have enough cash to be beautiful.

Morning, once again, broke on the oasis, it was becoming a habit, but it was something that must be done according to the day that followed. Old Pete and Heidi packed the camp, rolled it into bundles, and then had to unroll them as Reddie was missing; however she was finally found in the bed clothes of the main bed of the main bedroom of the main tent, that was the main thing.

Reddie set about to pack the Combi, and Lucky helped her make up a tow for the pedal car. Lucky would travel back to the Truck Stop with Reddie, and giving them a big lead, Heidi and Old Pete, with the cargo camel, would bring up the rear

It would have been a slower trip than with just the V8s but they soon realised that they had to put up with the inconvenient convenience of the Combi.

Part way along the track that was promised as a road, neigh on those twenty-years ago, Old Pete saw a tar truck, one of them council ve-heckles that carry a tar, gravel mixture to fill potholes with. This mixture guarantee permanent employment for local council staff, as it never stays in the pot hole for long, which seems to be the sole purpose of using the stuff.

“G'Day” sed the unfazed Old Pete.

“Yeah! G'Day.” Sed the bloke that was looking like he was in charge, 'cause he was the only one without a s hovel to lean on.

“You from here-abouts?”

“No mate, “ Answered Old Pete, “We is from there- abouts, well there-abouts, there-abouts, or somewhere near to it any way.”

“Well, 'ave ya' seen a road here-abouts, one with potholes in it?”

“Na!” Old Pete told him, helping as much as he could.

“There's s'posed to be a road around here somewhere, we been lookin' for for neigh on twenty years. We start at the depot, fill the truck up with cold mix, head out here to the desert, go back to the depot, unload the truck, and go home, a good steady job, but we still ain't found no bloody road.” The disgruntled gang leader said. He had his gruntle removed several years ago, a painful operation, so Dr Reddie said, but one that needs to be done for those that are inclined to grunt a lot, like teenagers: however, parents should keep in mind, before they think about getting the youngster disgrunted, that if they intend following a professional tennis career, the grunt should be left to develop accordingly. The good loud tennis grunt is a great help for blind spectators, and used judiciously it can indicate a win or a loss, a serve or a toss, a miss or a hit, and it can also mean that the players shorts are too tight.

“We heard about this missing road, and I reckon that after all this lengths of neighs that it would be full of potholes by now.”

“Yeah well! We have a system now for road building, we put a pothole mix in with the base material, I mean, it would be a waste of time coming out this far to find that the missing road didn't have any potholes to fill, hey?”

“Yeah, Hey,” Old Pete concurred in agreement, but he wasn't up with the technical side of road building so he thought that his concurrence and agreement should only be a con and an ag. Which, of course, is only a proportionate part of a concurrence and an agreement, thus not committing the Old bloke to any firm assertion as to whether he was firmly committing his assertions or not.

Old Pete decided not to let the foreman know that there was a truck stop down the track in case Lucky was behind in his rates, or summit. Clever sometimes, me' mate Pete, hey?

“It's not for me to say,” Sed Old Pete, “But I'll say it anyway. I reckon that ya' should go back to your boss and tell him t hat the missing road is still missing, an' ifn' they want you to do a good job he should build you a road with pot holes so that you can have something to do, hey?”

“Yeah! Thanks, I never thought of that, it could be a plan.” The ex-grunter replied wit a bit of a softish sort of a grunt, a bit like a baby does when Mum removes it from the teat; that sort of grunt.

So with a threat of the spurs from Old Pete and the lovely, much happier, Heidi (for some reason) the camels revved their engines, well it sounded like an engine revving, but was only the camels letting out their Carbon Credits. The cavalcade of camels in a caravan of cavalcading camels and caravaners careered carelessly raising dust from the desert sand and cascading it over the Pot Holers.

Old Pete and Heidi arrived at the t ruck stop just as the combi was tuning into the driveway, no, it was not a magical trick where somehow a ve-heckle turns into a real driveway, it is a manner of expressing the direction of said ve-heckle in regards to its orientation, yes, I know the VW Combi is of German descent and not Oriental, but that is only an expression to explain the orientation or position, or location, or state of where-abouts, here-abouts, and considering that Old Pete had only given them four hours head start, it wasn't too bad for the Combi and passenger and driver and now, fully sand blasted Cyclops Pedal car.

“Shiny, aint' it?” Old Pete made and observation sound like a question.

Reddie stood, one hand on her hip, the other scratching her head and the other three ticking away on her Rolex on her wrist. ( I don't miss any detail do I?”)

“I think I'll have to cut her free, Dear.”

“Could be a plan worth thinking about.” sed the old fella.

“Thinking about a plan is not making a plan, dear.”

“Oh! Vass iss ziss, not lovely little pedal car, Oh NO!.”

“Oh, Yes” sed Reddie.

“Hokay” sed Heidi “Let her roam amongst the gum trees, The acacia, the smell of Napalm in the mornings, the desert rose, and it also subsides....”

“Where is all this coming from?” the amazed and somewhat confused Old Pete and the youngish Reddie asked.

“I tinkenheimer that HE has gone troppo again.”

“Sounds like it, hey?” I don't know who sed that , but it don't matter either one will do.

Lucky pleaded to come along on the rest of the trip, he would supply all the fuel for the Combi, he would close the Truck Stop, he would be very good, he would behave, he would stop pleading eventually, and Old Pete was really touched by Lucky's grovelling.

“No way, Mate, “ Old Pete said in his most condescending and courteous manner, if you can be condescending and courteous at the same time.

“Pleeeeese!” cried Lucky.

“Let's get outta' here, Old Pete.” Sed Heidi.

So, with the usual Aussie way of comforting anyone that is in desperate and in dire straits, or maybe seriously injured, or is about to die, the Old Bloke offered his condolences with “You'll be right , mate”.

However, as it turned out, within a couple of days of Old Pete and his Cavalcade left the truck stop, and just as Lucky was about to decapitate himself with a blunt plastic knife from the diner, a mob of road builders turned up in and around the Truck Stop.

“We is gunna build a road,” Sed the very clever road builder.

“Wot about the dust and annoyance to the customers of the truck stop?”

“Well, I have been authorised to offer you five-thousand dollars a day for loss of trade.”

“I accept.” Lucky sed after a split nano second of deep and meaningful consideration.

“Good, here take this ten-thousand in cash for starters.”

“Ta”.

So, as Old Pete and the crew found out later, the mystery of the missing road came to light. It seems that t he District Engineer had received the original draft of the road neigh on twenty-five years ago. The draft consisted of two lines drawn on a bit of paper with the words, “make road here”, writ in between the lines. It took a lot of time and consideration to come up with the plan, and given the size of the desert, it was a masterpiece of understatement, being called by one councillor, who has since passed on, ' A work of such proportions that it must be considered as one of the great achievements of this councils term.” Of course, no one took into consideration that the council had achieved nothing insofar as civic structure in the last ten years.

The Engineer, who suffers from PMS or summit, from being exposed to too much coffee and crossword puzzles, had lost the 'plan' for the road under the pile of important documents in his 'too hard basket'.

However, once the foremen of the pot hole gang reported Old Pete's suggestion to the Engineer, things really got under way.

Within days of the road's completion a tourist bus with several hundred Japanese tourists arrived for lunch. Out with the cameras and 'crick cricked 'their way around the place. ( as you know, Japanese cameras don't go click) Lucky had just hired a new cook that looked very much like a Heidi clone, but with clothes on, and he went out and killed forty goannas for hamburger steaks and with seven loaves of bread, fed the lot. The road was on the map, and the Truck Stop was on the “You are Here Sign,” and the cavalcade of caravaning camels crossed the border into the Northern Territory of the northern part of the north of north Australia, and a little bit west.

Now you know they called him Lucky.

Saturday, January 19, 2013

The Adventures - part twelve

We left the old fella with his foot in his mouth, after suggesting that because Reddie will not let him strip naked and prance around the place, he complained that he did not have any fun.

Not a good thing to do, especially when the person he complained about was the one supplying the fun. Dr Reddie had ways and means, and her means were as mean as her ways, I mean, doctors are known for the pain they can inflict on the poor and innocent men of suburbia, believe me, I have been so inflicted; not because I have complained, mind you, as I am not the complaining type, not unless it is too hot or too cold, and I am not getting my way like us non-complainers should. It was just a mean doctor inflicting his inflictions on me.

Old Pete was getting more clever, or more gooder at being more cleverer, and as he saw the look in Reddie's eye, he departed the scene for safer pastures; however, being as they were in the desert pastures were few and far between, so he had to settle with a dive into the oasis.

But let's not spoil the date of the birth of Heidi, let us, instead fill her with happiness and joy, and nothing else, regardless what comes to mind.

Reddie decided to stay naked as well, just to tease Old Pete, we think, but she did wear a lap-lap that lapped at her lap as she loped around the oasis in several laps, which caused Old Pete and Heidi to clap as the lap-lap flapped before Reddie flopped to a stop atop the Old Fella.

So with such a joyous start to the day, all would be fine for the festivities in the night.

Old Pete whipped up a ten egg sponge, he could only get fresh emu eggs, as the chooks had gone off the lay, but a good emu egg is worth a dozen chook eggs so take that initial statement back to seven fifths of an emu egg sponge. One of the extra benefits of using an emu egg is ifn' ya' catch the emu as well, 'cause then, as all drovers cooks know, you hold the emu over the basin, squeeze its neck and let its feet down into the mixture. It kicks so hard that the mixture is whipped up real fine with no sugar grating on the spoon.

The kicking is controllable by the amount of pressure you squeeze its neck, too much squeeze and eventually the kicking will stop, so then you have to catch another emu. But Old Pete was a dab hand at the emu mix-master method of cake mixing.

There was a time when Old Pete cooked for the biggest mob of shearers ever seen in one wool shed. Just doing the porridge of a morning entailed getting the biggest tub he could lay his hands on, and then lowering an aluminium dingy, with a motor on the back, into the mix and revving around the tub for half an hour while the stuff came to a boil and simmered for a time. When it was ready the cooks helper lowered buckets down into the mix to pull out for the hungry shearers.

So, as you can see, an emu egg sponge cake was no problem for Old Pete. He picked some blackberries, and a few ground nuts that had been ground by the passing of many animals that had passed this way, an , in reality some of the nuts as well, passed that is. Ifn' ya' now wot I mean., and with these ingredients, and some home made cream from a passing cow buffalo that he tackled, milked, and let free again, and a good amount of sugar from local sugar ants that are found locally in the here abouts where sugar ants are normally found to habituate habitually by habit, in the abouts, as it is a deemed sugar ant habitat, according to what's-his-name. That pommy bloke wot everyone knows, except me at this particular point in time, as to which I am pointing at. It was just as well as I did linger a little longer 'cause I remembered his name, Dick Attenborough. So you have no reason to doubt wot I just said, ifn' he is gunna back me up, Hey?

Aw! I got off track a bit. Wot Old Pete had gathered was to make the icing for the birthday cake.

Old Pete, a famous cook from the old days, and now from the new days, was one of the few of the straight backed Outback bushmen of the Outback where straight backs are very handy to have, ifn' ya' want to walk in some form of decent upstanding manner, instead of looking like someone that is unable to stand up straight, and thus, not normally noted to be the Straight backed Bushman of the Outback. ( I feel a however coming on).

However, and none-the -less, so as not to say less than none, as that is fairly difficult, even for a well accomplished person like me, so, far be it from me to say anything that is a long way away.

What a waste of a perfectly good 'however'.

Reddie set to to make the salad, and after an hour or two gathering the ingredients, she decided that there would be no salad, as there were no ingredients in the surrounding desert that surrounded the surrounds. There-upon the girls decided between them that they would just partake of copious amounts of birthday cake, copious amounts of stored alcoholic beverages, fruits from the trees of the oasis, no salads, well maybe fruit salad, and so forth and so fifth, etc etc.

Later in the day, after it got to be further into the passing of the hours that indicate that it is getting later into the day, they heard the purr of the Combi chugging down the sand track towards the Oasis.

“Here comes your surprise.” Old Pete told the girls.

“Oh! Goody!” Sed they together in unison, both at the same time.

It was a little dusty, but it was certainly new looking for a neigh on twenty year old Ve-heckle, and the girls ran up to inspect the machine and to look inside for the surprise.

“Ver iss da surprisenheimer?” one of the girls asked.

“Ya' Ver” Sed the other.

“The Ve-heckle is the surprise, Reddie dear, So now you can put the pedal car in the back and drive the combi.”

“Oh! Goody!” and then Reddie promptly 'assumed the position' that any knowledgeable woman knows should be took in a combi, flat on her back on the mattress.

“Cool, Old Pete,like real cool.” Reddie's experiences in the 60' are still quite vivid in her mind.

“Might be a good idea ifn' ya' closed ya' mouth, mate, the flies a building up somethin' terrible.” Old Pete offered his well founded bush knowledge wot he found in the bush.

Lucky shutting his gaping mouth did sound a bit squishy, but the coughing and t he spitting seemed to clear most things away. When I say most, there were a couple of dung beetles hanging off his bottom lip.

I suppose you are wondering why the Operator was standing there with his mouth agape, hey?

Do you remember the dress code the girls had adopted for t his day, you do? SO now are you still wondering?

“Reddie, Heidi, come and meet the Truck Stop Operator, his name is Lucky, say G' Day to Lucky, girls.”

Reddie hopped out of the Combi and Heidi came over in her birthday suit to shake Lucky's hand, which was already shaking before they gott there.

“Lucky, this is Dr Roughen Reddie, my girl, and this is Heidi the camel handler.”

Again poor Lucky had jaw drop syndrome again, and his eyes just didn't' know where to look, Oh! He knew where he wanted to look, but he was trying to be polite, and things didn't get better in the polite department for the lucky Lucky.

“Come viss me, Mr Lucky, vee vill go and hafen a drinkenheimer, Ya'?”

“Wot?”

“She is Swedish, don't talk good proper Aussie like us do, mate, but you'll get use to it soon enough.”

“Wot?”

“Do you think I should examine Lucky, Old Pete Dear? He seems a little dazed, maybe too much sun exposure, perhaps, perchance.”

“Well, I reckon that he has see about as much exposure that a man wot ain't seen a woman for neigh on twenty years could be expected to handle at short notice.”

“So, how's it going, mate,” Old Pete used the casual approach, using his casual approach to be casual.

“Mate, the wimmin'?”

“Yeah! two of 'em.” Sed the Old casual fella.

“Yeah! But, I mean, and not only, but more than that, I mean,”

“Yeah! I know wot ya' mean.” But he didn't of course, he often lied like this just to pretend that he knew what was going on.

“Mate, they're 'nekid' as the day they wuz born, bare as a badgers bum, in he buff, in the nuddy, nude, nice but nude, ifn' ya know wot I mean.”

“ Ya' noticed?” Old Pete remained annoyingly casual.

“Well yeah, I had noticed, and there is another part of me that has noticed as well.”

“Yeah, That can happen to a bloke sometimes.” Old Pete knew about these things.”Don't let it get to ya' (Ha!) you'll get used to it.”

“ I've got neigh on a lot a years to catch up on, mate.” Sed Lucky.

“Well, it might take you a bit more time than usual, but you'll get used to it.” Always very wise Old Pete.

“Did you know that the oasis was here?” Reddie tried to divert Lucky's eyes.

“Wot Oasis?”

“The one you are near standing in with the crystal clear and very cool water of, that oasis. The one with the palm trees, and the birds returning to now that Heidi has stopped singing, that's the one I am referring to.”

“Well, I'll be darned, I didn't notice, but now I do, and I can see Heidi splashing around out there so I might just go for a dip me'sef.”

So, being very brave, laid back and the cool man of nature that he was, Lucky dived in to the cooling waters fully clothed, boots and socks, wallet and hat, shorts and underwear ( I think, I haven't checked), shirt and sand jacket, with two sand-witches in the pocket with tomato, onion and goanna on them, and of course his trusty backpack that he packed on his back; just the normal stuff a Truck Stop Operator would use in the Outback. He then floundered around until he had almost drowned, as it had passed his mind that he could not swim. Age does that to your memory at times.

Seeing the visitor in distress, Heidi, who was not in any sort of dress, Dis or Dat, reached the stricken man in several strong strokes of her strong stroking arms. She searched around his neck until she found the scruff, and then by the said scruff of his neck dragged him to the sand at the side of the oasis.

As luck, and Lucky would have it, Heidi knew about the CPR method of resuscitation, which, in layman's terms is called cardiopulmonary resuscitation, which amounts to a bit of a pounding to the chest area, and a lot of blowing down the throat of the victim, sorry, patient.

After about ten minutes of this treatment from the wet soft lips of our Heidi, Old Pete thought that he might mention that Lucky had opened his eyes on the first contact of her lips and was now very much alive, as could be seen by anyone that knows about these things.

“You can stop now, Heidi, he is alive, and has been for some time, dear.”

“Maybe a little longer vood help, ya'?”

“Ya'” Sed lucky.

“See,” Sed Heidi, “ I knew he vanted more, ya'?”

“Want and need are two different things, child.” Offered the maternal Reddie.

“Hokay, he iss coming to attention, so I give him a blow later, if he need.”

“I will definitely need, Heidi, most definitely.” Said guess who?

Look what's happening, introduce another character to the story and debauchery sets in. Shame , shame!

Enough of this debauching, it is not good for your blood pressure, if you have any.

The afternoon went well, Lucky would take some time to get used to two beautiful, naked girls for company at dinner, as one would, but the birthday cake was consumed with much relish. Old Pete had several bottle of Pickles in the Cargo Camels storeroom.

Lucky had brought some vintage Champagne, well, at least neigh on twenty year vintage, so they consumed that. Old Pete had some scotch and some Bundy Rum,so they consumed that and then they a ll fell into the oasis, and Lucky almost consumed that, however, (Gotcha) it was a jolly day, was Heidi's birthday, she tested the Rolex for water proofness, and found it to be good, she tested Lucky for water proofness but found him not to be so good, other than a lot of giggles at his floundering.

And then it was siesta time, that time in the day when all Mexicans, and camel trekkers go beddy-byes for an hour or so, or so.

Heidi, being the maker upper of her own mind, took Lucky to her tent, and Old Pete went where he was told.

Later in the day, Old Pete arose, as he was an early aroser most times, and wandered out to answer the call of nature.

“Cooee! Nature, “ He called, “Cooeee, I hear ya', mate.”

Then he heard Heidi giggling, the happy noise coming form the confines of her tent which she was not really confined in, but it was a bit confining if there were a crowd in there, at which Old Pete thought there was. Maybe paternal, maybe a bit jealous, maybe not, but maybe so, so he called..

“Watcha' doin' Heidi?”

“Vee iss a playing the card game, and I am feeling Lucky.”

Well, dear reader, what is this going on? Stay tuned to the amazing adventures of Old Pete and Heidi and Reddie and Lucky, brought to you by the strange and daring mind of the yet, stranger Young Pete, namely Moi!.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

The Adventures - part eleven

"The story's like this. this bloke, wot owns the truck called in one day, lost. Completely and utterly bushed, slewed and lost. 'Where's the bloody road, mate' he says, an' I tell him it ain't built yet, an' he sez, 'No wonder I couldn't find it then, Hey?' an' I sez, Hey".

Both Old Pete and the Operator took a long swig of the beer, and settled in for the rest of the yarn, which will unwind itself in due course.

Old Pete could see the connection with the blokes name and the situation in which Lucky finds himself, I mean, Lucky has no problems, is not over worked, has no cash flow problems, simply because he has no cash flow. It also appears that the electricity supplier can't find him to send him bills, nor find him to disconnect his power. (That can happen in stories like this). And he has already exceeded his past twenty years of trading in one afternoon. What more could a bloke ask, I ask?"

The rest of the yearn is unfolding:

"The truckie was in a hurry to go to the 'Gentlemen's Rest Room' which I said we ain't' installed as yet and there is a dunny out the back ifn' he wanted,"

"Yeah! Nuffin' wrong with a dunny ifn' ya need one." Old Pete interjected, butting in at the same time.

"Yeah! Nuffin', Anyrate, Off he goes, but to whence I no not where. I can only speculate, and have a bit of a guess, or chance a suspicion on the matter, but I reckon he thought the dunny was out the back, and as ya' can see, out the back is desert, and a bit more desert, So Ifn' he kept walkin' he is either very, very lost, very, very dead, or very close to the Indian Ocean. Bin' neigh on twenty years since he left, an' he a has racked up a pretty big parking bill, I can tell ya."

"Did ya' ever report him missin'?" Odl Pete asked.

"How could I be sure he was missin'? He might just be out walkin'." Lucky opined, adding, "An' how could I tell anyone, no one has been along this way for neigh on twenty years."

"How long ago did the government promise you the road?" Old Pete wanted to know.

"I reckon it would be neigh on twenty years, give or take a neigh or two."

"Well, I'll tell ya' what, " Old Pete revealed, "I need a bit of extra transport for me' camel camp, an' I was wondering ifn' ya' wanted to hire me the big Mac?"

"Aw! Dunno, all this cash flow is causing me a problem."

"Fair Dinkum."

"Yep! Fair Dinkum, ya see me' till draw is stuck and I need it to put the money inta when I make a sale."

"This is not a sale, Lucky, old mate, this is a hire."

"Yeah! Right, your not just a pretty face are ya'.?"

"Some think I am, but not just a, but an as well as a"

"Yeah! Right", sed Lucky.

"Can we have a look in the pantechnicon (Us old Truckies call it a pantech. or just a Pan.) So Old Pete repeated, "Can we have a look in the pan, mate?"

Would you believe? Here we were at the start of the day with problems concerning a Rolex watch of which Old Pete now has three, and here we are at the back of the pan with its doors open, revealing a solid, almost new, twenty-two year old Volkswagen Combi, all done out with camper gear. Transport problem solved,

I am always amazed at the ways and means of the Australian Outback, when you are down and out, and life looks to pass you by, and you are stuck for a Rolex watch and a camper van, along it comes, just like that.

You have read the circumstances leading up to this bit of luck, so you know it was not of my invention as all unfolded from the mouth of Lucky the Operator, and I had very little to do with the way things turned out. But wait, there's more!

"That's what I need, I can use that better than I could use the Mac truck, I'll tell ya' wot, I'll give ya' two hundred dollars for the VW." Old Pete very kindly offered.

"I dunno mate, it's over neigh on twenty years old, how about a hundred, that'll do me, an' I'll toss in a tank of petrol as well."

"Ya' drive a hard bargin, Lucky."

"Well a blokes gotta make a livin' ya' know?"

So we now have Old Pete and the girls fixed up, not that they were broken or nuffin', it is just a t run of a phrase to suggest that if they had been broken they would now be fixed up. I know that blokes get fixed up with girls at times, and the bloke ends up broken, but this doesn't refer to that situation.

"It's me' camel handlers birthday tomorrow, do you want to come to t he party?" Old Pete offered Lucky.

"Aw! Dunno mate, dunno ifn' I can leave the truck stop like that, not now that business has picked up."

"Don't' ya' have some casual workers wot could do ya' shift for ya'?"

"Well, I have had some casuals down from Darwin, in the past, so I could give 'em a call and see ifn' someone is available.

It seems that the dole office in Darwin has a list of casuals for all types of casual work. They've got casual truckies, and wait persons that sit around waiting and who are really casual. They've got crocodile hunters, Rodeo clowns, bull shippers, and as a matter of fact, they have the largest contingent of casual Bull Shippers in the world, outside Texas and Canberra.

According to lucky, all he has to do is to get in touch, and they will put a bloke on a plane and have him at the truck stop in neigh on an hour. (Just having a break from however)

Yeah! I could do it, and I could deliver the VW for ya' while I am at it."

"Yep, that's all good," Old Pete reckoned.

Old Pete topped up the V8 with a goodly swig of water, and four stubbies as well, camels love beer, ya' know, but ifn' ya' didn't they love beer.

A little touch of the heels, and the camel with Old Pete still on board, landed about halfway down the track towards the oasis.

After dinner, that evening, with the last flicker of the candles in the candelabra where candles flicker in most of the after dinner scenes you will see in the movies, the three travellers all pitched in with the cleaning up and putting things away, with Old Pete taking on the most important job of all, supervising the work seated in his recliner rocker so as not to get in the way.

"I invited the truck stop Operator for your birthday bash, Heidi."

"Oh Goody", Sed the lovely blonde, who had actually dressed for dinner.

"He is bringing a couple of surprises with him."

"Oh! Goody." Sed Both the lovely girls.

So, it all looks wonderful for the birthday girl. I mean, you observers cannot see anything that would disrupt the celebrations set for tomorrow night, right?

Later, when Old Pete was helped out of his recliner rocker and led to bed by the blooming Reddie, not meant as in the Bloomin' Reddie, which could also indicate some term referring to the fact that being led by Reddie would be a bloomin' pain in the butt, but, of course it is not a reference to anything like t hat, and it is quite clear that the Bloomin' used to indicate the situation that has occurrence on this particular night, made Dr Roughen Reddie in fact bloom.

As Old Pete entered the inner sanctum of the master tent, he pushed aside the veil of fine gauze that separated the outer sanctum form t he said inner sanctum where the delicious Dr Reddie reclined amoungst, and I mean amongst, the sumptuous cushions of fine down, with a little up and some to the side feathers from the unclothed eider ducks of Pillowdom.

Old Pete was taken over by the scene before him, as it would any red blooded man of the Outback, a statement that has always worried me as I have never been game to determine the different blood colours of anyone, let alone a man of the Outback.

However, (Boy! I have missed the however) it was not the scene the Old Pete was seeing, but more the screen that screened the scene that he would have seen if he was looking in the right direction, ifn' ya' knwo wot I mean.

The Good Doctor was concerned with the ethical questions that had posed a question with her ethics on the return of Old Pete from his shopping spree.

"Old Pete," Reddie began, which is a strange way to begin in the current situation, simply because there was no one else present in either of the sanctums of the master tent other than herself, or the man she had just called 'Old Pete',. Never-the-less, in place of however, that is how the good doctor addressed the dressed, but soon to be undressed Old Pete.

"Yes, Dear," Old Pete used the usual usage that a man uses when he is in doubt of what is coming next from his female partner, which does not , in any way, indicate a feminine partner, ifn' ya' know wot I mean. There are many female partners that are anything but feminine, hey?

The last thing we need on this trip is any deep and meaningful discussions: however there appears to be one pending.

You see, Old Pete has not had a great education on the wily ways of women. He often suffers from foot in mouth disease, and at times he only takes a foot out just long enough to change feet. Having said that, I shall say this, so you can be prepared for a bit of this and that, and maybe a bit of other stuff as well.

Wot I am nattering on about is the matter of the Rolex for Heidi. I am sure that she would not really expect one, considering the distance that they were from Switzerland, hence, hre delight will be momentous for a moment amounting to massive amounts of squealing and laughing and hugging and stuff, Right?

Now, If Old Pete revealed that he bought one for Reddie and one for himself, (this is the deep and meaningful part) wouldn't that detract from Heidi's delight, and birthday? we think so, Old Pete and Reddie think so, so that's what we think.

"Reddie, I have something to say to you."

"That's nice, I love it when you talk to me."

"I bought Heidi a Rolex watch today, but I bought one for you too, and one for me as well."

"Really?"

"Yep!"

Oh! Aren't you sweet, where's mine, I want it now, give." Reddie was a woman after all.

"Just wait," Old Pete commanded in his best 'I'm the boss type voice, which, naturally caused gales of laughter to gale forth from the lovely Reddie.

"Yes Dear," She answered between the storm, 'the gales', aren't you paying attention?

“I think we should just give Heidie her watch and watch her as she appreciates all th e rouble I went to to get it for her as she requested, not that I am looking for any accolades, I mean it is Heidie's birthday, and not a moment of my wonderful cleverness and great means of making people love me for the wonderful person that I really am, is it?”

“Old Pete, “ Sed Reddie, with that look of expiration in her eyes, which, of course is considered natural, or normal, or even normally natural, as one would have some difficulty of having a look of exasperation in anything other than one's eyes, “Come to bed, you are straining your equilibrium again.”

“Hoppy Birthday, to meee.” The sweet strains of the very strained voice of Heidi raised all the bird life at the oasis, it also raised the animal life, excepting the camels who had become used to the strange behaviour of their humans, and just continued to lay where they were standing, chewing their cud in complete nonchalance of anything other than the cud which they chewed.

The singing also raised Reddie and Old Pete, who had a bit of sleep deprivation for some reason,; however, as times passes so do the reasons for the sleep deprivation, don't it?

Old Pete threw back the flap on the master tent, which caused it to be flung that far back that tent, tie down ropes and pegs were threw to the edge of the waters of the oasis, leaving Reddie stark naked on the bed, which in the light of things was not out of place in this scene, as Heidi was prancing around stark naked as well.

“Goodness gracious me.” Old Pete said, thinking of his graciousness more than his goodness, “What is happening hereabouts? Has everyone taken leave of their senses?”

You can just hear Old Pete talking like this, hey? Me neither.

'Tis my birthday, Old Pete, so I iss vearing my birthday suit, do you think it suits?”

“I suits me all right, and Reddie here in her's, maybe I should get into birthday mode as well, hey?”

“Wot do ya' reckon, Reddie?”

“Dear , Old Pete, do you think I am your Reddie-Reckoner? But no, Sweets, the birds and animals left,  we don't want the camels running off in fright as well.”

“Aw! Gee, I never get any fun.” Old Pete Lamented, to his detriment wihich is very detrimental if you are determined to defer different things as fun, and such.

“So, that was not fun for you last night.” Sed Red still in bed, nodding her head.

“Oh! Oh! I tinken dat the man is in the trouble, Ya?

Friday, January 4, 2013

The Adventures - part ten

Adventures Part 10. (Boy, I am spoiling you mob, and not a word of encouragement, hummfh!)

NOTE: There has been an massive edit of Part 10, a few continuity issues, well OK mistakes, occurred during the original writing and the edit.  Gremlins! or summit. 

After Old Pete had a good rest after his rest-less night; he always had trouble sleeping when a luscious sheila was paying him lots of luscious attention, and to tell the truth, he tried to behave, but it was too hard, ifn' ya' know wot I mean.

Here is some late breaking news: The delicious, darling, Dr Reddie has announced the she is going to stay with the travellers, if they would have her, for the rest of the trip.

I may be easy for you dear reader, but now I have to refurbish the story by arranging another camel, or summit. But don't you worry your little head, I'll work something out.

Old Pete was all right with the suggestion, and told her he was happy to have her, any time, at which, Heidi and Dr Reddie giggled; however Old Pete had become equalised and had his equilibrium back in kilter with all the other bits and pieces that held him together.

Old Pete had heard of a truck stop that was further along the track. This track, which was no where to be seen on any road maps, 'cause it was a track and road maps only had roads, except for the Birdsville Track, which is actually a road and therefore qualifies for a road for the sake of a road map.

Another such trail, which is summit like a track is mentioned herein: There's a track winding back to an old fashioned shack along the road to Gundagai.

However, as this is only for historic purposes, and time has passed to change this track into a four lane Highway, I have only mentioned it as an aside, beside the track that is beside the Murrumbidgee River: however it is cross referenced if you should enter the verse from the information previously informed. However, it could well seem as though I am digressing, or getting off the track (Oh! How Droll). However, I shall consult my track map and get back on the road.

The said Truck Stop (Remember?) was some miles from where the intrepid , now, threesome, were enjoying yet another sojourn, (This is a Swedish word that Old Pete had passed on to me for literate reasons). However on further investigation, I have found that it is a word used by Romans and only spoke in Latin so as to confuse those that only spoke Swedish.

The said Truck Stop, which has been noted as one of those massive failures in corporate investment, has had only the one B Double, Mac, fifty-six wheeler with twin overhead fox tails and ten thou' shaved of the dip stick, stop there. According the the history of the desert, this event happened at precisely twenty, or so, years ago, or there about.

It will be some time before the camel party, which they often did, especially when over fed with the V8 mix of fine food,a good rub down by the gentle hands of the gentle Heidi, party that is. Well, before this party comes to the Truck Stop, where all will be solved in future travel arrangements of the travel party, which they did, and so forth. These travel arrangements will be a once only event for the travellers, as soon as I can invent what they may be.

In the interim, between future events and the events that are happening, that sort of interim, which could be described as a sort of intermission. but as there was no mission here-about to get inta', we have to settle for interim, which consisted of a mention from Heidi.

"Guess Vot?" Heidi asked one evening when no one was in a guessing mood.

"Vot?"

"Na you guess."

"Na' don't wanna."

Oh! ya' iss da spoilinheinimersportinkin."

"I iss mine birthenday, tomorrow."

"Oh! Really?" asked Reddie.

"It is really" Asked Old Pete.

"Ya' really, ya' tinken I tell zee fibberheinenhiemer about dis thina', Ya?" ( I think I am really picking up on this Swish Swedish langwidge, hey?)

Dear Darling Dr Reddie realised that she, and Old Pete were being unkind to this kind girl. Old Pete did too, after Reddie Jabbed him in the ribs several times, so.

"Oh! Heidi, that is wonderful, we must party, ya'?"

Old Pete picked up on the moment, which was good as he only had moments when not thinking about Reddie and the nights when he used to get a full nights sleep.

"Have you thought about what you want for a pressie?" Old Pete asked after Reddie had gone for a swim, naked and without a  'cossie' on.  Such goings  on never happened in my day, and now if it did it would not be skinny dipping but lumpy dumping.

"Ya' I haff, dear Old Pete, I vanna vatch. Pliss."

Now this did catch Old Pete off guard, but he thought it could not hurt anyone, I mean out here in the desert, poor little Heidi, with her desires, might well 'Vanna Vatch".

Old Pete, considered that as Reddie was to a part of this event, should have her say on the matter.

"Wot do you reckon, Reddie?"

"What do I reckon about what, darling?", (It was a slow night.)

"Do you think we could let Heidi watch?"

"Watch what?"

"Well, it is Heidi's birthday tomorrow, an' she said that she wanted to watch, an the only thing I could think that she would want to watch is...well you know."

"I think I should ask her, myself," Dr Reddie was a little perplexed at the suggestion.

"Okay, I don't' mind ifn' you don't."

It was not all that long before the Good Doctor returned, and Old Pete had heard the shrill laughter coming from the oasis, so in his cleverness he worked out that it was going to happen, and the girls were laughing in excitement. He also wondered if he had some new moves he could show Heidi, but he only knew three. His repartee consisted of,  him on top, her on top and both on top at the same time, which was a bit interesting. (I don't know, you will have to ask Old Pete.)

"Where would we get a Rolex from, out here in the desert?" Reddie asked the old fella.

"What's a Rolex?"

"A watch."

"A watch ?"

"Yes, dear Old Pete, Heidi would like a watch for her birthday.?

"As well as the other?"

"There will be no other."

"Bummer".

"You asked Heidi what she would like for her birthday, and she said I want a watch, not what you thought."

"I knew that."

So, folks, here is sit hoping for a flash of genius so that I can sort out, not only a transport problem but where we can get a Rolex watch from, and you think your life is difficult.

However, as it so happened and came to be, in the fullness of time and not forsaking the inevitable that inevitably occurs in somewhat different occurrences that occur in different places for different reasons other than to be an inevitable occurrence at a different place, a momentous problem solving occurrence would occur eventually, and did, Yea Verily, and so it did on the eve of the delicious Heidi's birthday, I, like in me instigated a thought into the bean box of Old Pete's idea receptor.

"I think I might take one of t he camels and ride on to the T ruck Stop, we wuz talking about, it is only a hundred or so miles down the track, so I reckon Ifn' I head out soon, I could be back in an hour or so."

"Vy, Why?" was the combined question from the girls.

"I dounno, HE, ain't told me yet, but I reckon ifn' I head orf' I can find out by me'sef." He is very smart sometimes is me' Old Pete, mate.

Mounting up on his well fed V8 camel, after stripping a lot of the extraneous and surplus goods and tackle from its carrying capacity, raising the Air-foil on the rear end, so as to keep rear end traction to a maximum, and doing a last minute check on the ground-effects stabiliser on the front end, he gave the beast a fairly solid jab with his spurs and landed down the track about a hundred yards.

Picking himself up out of the sand, Heidi handed him the lead rope of the V8 for the Old Fella to have another bit of the quick start trick. This time he decided to hang on a bit better, and it worked, the V8, with Old Pete still ensconced upon said camel landed fifty yards down the track, and with the legs of the camel rotating at full revs a large sand storm arose, which could be seen flailing off into the distance for the next twenty minutes.

Reaching into his reserves of human hospitality and cordiality along with a smattering of politeness, Old Pete said "G'Day".

Being a Truck Stop Operator and owner gave this person the traits of the said operation, and he replied with about the same amount of wot Old Pete had used in his greeting, "Yeah! G'Day".

Having established the age old meeting expressions, like, "'ow's the Cricket goin?" or "Could do with some rain." or "Be glad when the floods are over." or, well you know, them type discussions, Old Pete and the Operator, who's name happened to be John Stanley Bartholomew Alfonso Robert McGillicuddy , "But you can call me Lucky, " shook hands, after Old Pete had dismounted, catching his foot in the rigging on the way down, and landing flat on his nose on the concrete driveway, where upon Lucky asked "Ya' All right, mate?" and Old Pete said "Yeah! No worries".

Not having had a customer for about twenty years,Lucky was stuck for the next gambit. He had forgot what he was supposed to say when a likely looking customer came along, and just stood there scratching his bum-crack through his nicely pressed white overalls.

"Lucky, mate, I was wondering ifn' ya' knew where I could get a Rolex watch from?"

"Switzerland, mate, they come from Switzerland."

"No! I want one by tomorrow."

Poor Lucky, the first customer for twenty-bloody-years and he wants a Rolex watch...Tomorrow.

"I'll have a look in me' stock and see ifn' I got one somewhere."

"Yeah Thanks!" Old Pete offered.

It only took fifteen minutes, and Bluey was back with a watch in his hand.

"Bugga me, I had one, here ya' go, yours for ten thousand quid, on special this week."

"One problem, I what one to suit a shelia with a little wrist."

"Okay, hang about." and off he went.

Old Pete hung about. He looked around the place, in the diner with the cobwebs over the big electric stove, the display of confectionery in various states of decay, cigarettes lined up ready to go, but having nowhere to go they went nowhere. It looked desolate, it looked like something out of a fictitious story concocted by a very strange writer.

At the rear of the establishment stood the big Mac truck, the fifty-six wheeler, fifty-seven counting the one in the cabin. Double pantechnicon trailers,  the twin overhead fox tails looking a little worse for their state of stagnancy, dust on the windows making the poor beast look very forlorn and lost.

So now that I have you feeling sorry for the truck, and while the operator is looking for a feminine Rolex, and the camel is chewing on the rubber hoses on the fuel bowsers, and the desert issues forth with its eerie silence, which it does when it is really quiet, and far off mirages dance in the shimmering heat casting the spell of company, or townships, or trees or other stuff, Old Pete thought to himself that this must be one of the worst investment opportunities that the had ever seen, and he has seen some in his time.

Old Pete used to sell barbers pole paint once ,red and white in the one tin, and it came in those spirals, ready to apply, the business also carried a franchise for rocking horse manure, but it was too hard to get the good quality stuff.

He did have a good contract for selling refrigerators to the Eskimos, so that their food didn't freeze, but with no electricity in the area he was designated, he had to tell his customers that his 'fridges worked on kerosene. Of course, they found out and he left the area post haste, and as quick as his dog sled would carry him, which was pretty quick considering he had not had time to hook the dogs team up.

However, I digress, getting away from the subject at hand and, as is a perfunctory perpetration that occasionally seems to cross paths with my mind and my brain, which, I can admit, seem to live in different areas of my intellect that creates my intellectuality in large quantities, a bit like a burst of adrenalin when hit on the head with a large hammer. If you do doubt that , I invite you to try it sometime; it is so good when you stop.

"Mate, " Sed the operator, "I could only find five women's Rolex watches, I thought I had a couple more somewhere."

"Do they come in any other colours, mate.?" Old Pete honestly asked, being as he is the big 'horse' trader type of bloke.

"Na! Not that I know, only gold or silver."

"How much for the gold one in the nice presentation box with the ribbon and , artificial snow on the outside?"

"Before I tell you price, I will be honest with you..The ribbon is cockroach chewing wot chewed the cardboard cover off the box, and the snow is just cobwebs and dust. So, considering the condition you can have this one for a mere twelve-thousand dollars and twenty-seven cents."

"Not a real good way to present ya' stock, mate. No wonder you dont' get a lot of customers. I'll tell ya' wot, I'll give you a hundred bucks for it, and I'll take another one for the same price and a blokes one for the same amount, so that is five hundred bucks all up, that's me offer." Old Pete was a fair dinkum, Outback bushman, not an accountant.

"Make it four-fifty, and its a deal." neither was the Operator.

"Yeah, dun." and they shook hands and exchanged cash for goods with the Operator tossing two carrots for the camel to get it to stop chewing on the fuel hoses.

"One other thing, " Old Pete started, "The truck out the back, is that yours?"

"Well sorta'." Which is a very acceptable answer in this country when you really don't own an item but can see the potential for making a buck or two on a deal.

Old Pete accepted the answer, continuing with his thoughts in the direction of his thought pattern, which is not all that much a pattern, more a mosaic wot used to be the way Old Moses used to think, or so they reckon, or it could be described as one of those paintings that the bloke named Piccascerio, or Pissakka, or summit used to paint when he was on medicinal medication containing stuff wot made him see strange things, ifn' ya' know wot I mean. Really, I am being a bit hard on Old Pete, he is not too bad when he is full of it, like I am most times.

"I'll tell ya' wot." Old Pete said.

"Wot?" asked the Operator.

"I'll tell ya' wot I want ta' ask ya' about the truck."

"Wot truck?"

"The one out the back, the big Mac."

"Aw! that truck?"

"Is there another one I might 'ave missed?"

"Na!."

"Yeah!, well that truck."

"Wot about the truck?"

Come on, dear reader, this is the Australian Outback, folks talk like this here-about, believe me.

"Well, " Old Pete continued unperturbed, I mean he had been perturbed in the past, as well as being trepid rather than intrepid, and of course, that common old problem of tough men of the Outback, he had many times, on occasion, been found lacking, which is like licking when you have nothing to lick, an act that most Outback folk know about, but do not talk about for fear of being licked in the discussion because they lack the substance to lick, alack and alic, as me' Old Mate Bill Shakespeare never said.( I think it is prudent to leave Alass out of this bit of informative information.)

"Well, I'll tell ya about the truck," The Operator deigned to the designated Dinner of the truck stop so that they, they being Old Pete, the Operator, and of course, Wilber the V8 camel..Yes, Wilber. could sit in the comfort of the air conditioner and have a stubbie of good cold beer from the commercial size fridge.

Wilber tossed his stubbie in one flick, so the congenial Operator just put the slab of beer on the table and said "Help ya' sef'" which all and sundry did, as deigned.

Informative Notation: In this country a carton of beer in glass stubbies as opposed to the long neck bottles, is called a slab. The slab is also a measure of distance as in: "How far to Bulladealah?" the distance is then measured on how many slabs of beer you could consume in the time it took to travel the distance, and could be as such:"Oh! About a slab and a half, Mate."

Deigned: Deemed worthy, or from the French, Dingus worthy...Fair Dinkum.

"Where do ya' get the electricity from, mate?" Old Pete asked, suing mate as I have not come up with a name for the Operator as yet.

"Out of them switches on the wall, why?"

"Where does it come from before the switches?" Old Pete was being facecial .

"How the bloody heck would I know?. I am a Truck Stop Operator, not an bloody electrician."

"No need to get your knockers in a knit," Old Pete tried to calm him.

"So, grab a stubbie, and we will go look at the Mac truck, ifn' ya' interested." The Operated calmed.

It is here that the writer has laboured over the conundrum of extra transport for Reddie. I solved the birthday present fairly easily, but the transport thing is a bit more complicated; however, I am not a genius of nothing, well I am, no one pays me to be to be a genius, so I just have to carry this burden of super intelligence along in my modesty bag, which is almost overflowing with accolades and stuff.