Burrinjuck, February 2, 1932
I just shot a cat and I feel terrible about it. I don't like cats and here in Burrinjuck there are so many of them. Several times already cats have come to us and stuck around and we have then had the pleasure of finding the owners and getting rid of the beasts. Today I had just had too much and I shot the ‘dear little thing’ right through the head. Jip and I had first tried, unsuccessfully, to chase it away. In the end it climbed into a tree, and I shot it down, right through the skull. It looked horrible. The blood started to run and drip down while the thing was still clinging to the branch. I don't like that sort of thing and I feel very uncomfortable about it.
Yesterday I got a lovely long letter, but I didn't even have time to read it until today. I was out in the blackberries all morning, came late home and had to cook dinner. Then Sverre came home and said Mr and Mrs Corby are coming so I had to hurry up and bake a cake, and then they came, and afterwards we were just so tired, since we now always get up at 4.30 am. I could have read the letter through quickly, but I don't like to do that. So I waited till this morning when I would have plenty of time to enjoy it, and then along comes this horrid cat which had been rummaging around the place all night.
This week ‘Dodsworth’ fell into my hands and I have to confess that for this reason, I have been unfaithful to Mama's bedjacket. The book has me completely fascinated. It describes so much concerning Australians and Europeans, that I have felt and not been able to put into words. I have a small sense of liberation in seeing various things formulated so clearly and described so accurately.
Sverre is reading aloud to me from a book called ‘A thousand miles through Australia’ . It is somewhat heavy going, since it is written in Swedish and he reads it in Norwegian.
The fact that I asked you about my forbears has nothing to do with the stupid boasting that people do around hero. I promise I will contain myself and never tell anyone what fine parents and brothers I have, no matter how much others tell me about theirs. Thinking back, I remember that even Mr Lipscomb, the first Englishman I ever met, murmured something like ‘My family were aristocrats, thank God!" I didn't understand anything at the time, it just meant nothing to me. I wonder if that is an English habit. It's certainly not very attractive. As soon as two people meet, the first thing they do is tell each other about their fine parents, grandparents, gold medals and diplomas and about how clever and intelligent they are themselves. If they didn't tell you, mostly you would never guess it either. Chort , Satan, Perkele, Fanden, Parblöh.
I have enjoyed reading Leo's description of his journey in Russia so much. It is so wonderful to read, and to feel that it is all true, that, if circumstances were otherwise, I could see and feel and think the same things. I am so grateful to Leo for taking the time to tell us about everything. It is almost as if I were travelling with him.
Mr. Gilbert has now bought a car for us. For 65 pounds. He wrote that he got it by chance and that it is a very good car. If only Norman Chaffer comes to he us, I think he will bring it. Otherwise I will go to Sydney and Mr Gilbert will drive me back and we'll pay for his ticket back to Sydney. I would prefer for Norman to come, since I don't feel like running around having fun, when Sverre hasn't been out of this desolate place for two years. Then at Easter we can go together. Mr Gilbert is very nice and has even offered to let me stay at his place if I come to Sydney, and he doesn't want any money for it either. I really would like to go to Sydney and then make the trip home by ear and learn to drive, but I won't. Poor Svorrie will be working all the time. They are working very hard at the moment with a project that has to be done in a hurry. They are putting in a cement pipe which will let more water out of the dam without damaging the work. Because of the dry weather not enough water is passing through the sluices at the moment. They are working now from 6 in the morning, and on Fridays as well, so the weekend would be too short to make a trip to Sydney.
The drought is now just as bad as the rain was in winter. There are a lot of bushfires. At times the whole area is covered with a mist of blue smoke, so the mountains are only vaguely visible. It is somewhat scary, although we ourselves are in no danger. All around, the farmers are burning off small patches of land, and men stand all around and watch the fire so it doesn't spread. They do this so that the sheep will have a place to go in case of bush fires.
We haven’t done anything interesting this week. The weekend was short and we were lazy. However we will soon have to get about building a garage for our Baby. We already have the iron sheets for the roof, as well as nails, all of which we found. Now Sverre will have to go looking for some nice straight tree trunks, and the walls we will probably make of sacks. That is the easiest.
I will just tell you who the Gilberts are. They used to have a chemist shop. The husband is now retired and they have a nice little house in Willoughby and are old friends of Hindwoods. Bryan, who got the car for us, is the youngest child and is about 25. I only ever met them once.
Burrinjuck, February 11, 1932
I finally got a letter from Norman Chaffer. Unfortunately he can not get away from work. I wrote to Mr. Gilbert and asked him if he would come on his own, or maybe take Mrs Hindwood along if she has time.
The owner of the cat I shot showed up in the evening of the same day. It was Jack Gleeson, the son of the people we stayed with during the flood. Why did it have to be him. of all people?! He adores his cats and worries about them. Of course we apologised, but it was horrible. The Gleesons were very nice about it too. and there I was, worried that Jack might take revenge and do something to Jip.
I had a nice letter from Mrs Chaffer. The poor dear is really missing Evelyn. She has a nice girl coming in every day, more for company than for help, but of course she is no replacement for Evelyn.
Burrinjuck, February 25. 1932
I have had a terrible bout of flu. I felt as if I were half dead for a whole week. I'm getting over it now, just have a bit of a headache and a runny nose.
On the 11th of February, the day of my last letter, we had dinner, and then, around 6.30 pm we shut up the house and rowed over to the other side of the lake to shoot rabbits. As we were getting into the boat, a little car drove past up on the road. Sverre said, jokingly, ‘There goes our car’. When we got home, around eight, there was the car, and Bryan Gilbert with it. He had asked Mrs Hindwood if she wanted to come with him, and since she was not able to get away, he simply got in the car and drove down, without letting us know in advance. That was a happy surprise for us. We quickly put Evelyn's hut in order and asked Bryan if he would like to stay for a while. He is out of work, and yet has plenty of time. He stayed for a whole week, and we enjoyed his company so much, we were quite sad when he left. He is a very nice young man, good looking too. with quite black hair, eyes and eyebrows. However he is quite small, not much taller than I am. His father was a captain to begin with. After he married he studied chemistry, and became a chemist. Now they live on their savings. Bryan was working in a small office, but has been unemployed for some time. He is twenty four. His brother Howard is a car salesman. Bryan is a bit shy, but not so shy as to be silly. Sverre likes him very much. Our Baby is lovely. It is so tiny, runs like a little miracle, and is a greenish blue. It can go 40 mph, maybe a little more, but not much. It does 45 miles to the gallon, and here where we live a gallon costs 2/4, whereas in Sydney it's only 1/-. It would cost us 19/6 to go to Sydney. Without a car it would cost at least one pound twelve each. Also we have already earned one pound fifteen on the Baby, since a man asked Sverre to drive him to Yass. He paid two pounds, and petrol and oil only cost five shillings. I have not yet tried to drive because I was so sick, and during the week that Bryan was here I did not want to, in case he thought we just invited him down to teach me. Once more I was astounded at Sverre. He just got into the car and drove! It gave a few jumps to begin with, but after about a minute it went quite smoothly. He had not driven a car for about 12 years and the ones he drove then were quite different, so I was somewhat nervous about how it would go.
While Bryan was still here, we drove to Yass one day, Sverre had his eyesight tested at the police station, and Sverre drove around for a bit, afte which he got his driver's license We are so happy with our Baby, as you can imagine‘ Sverre is in the process of building a a garage on the street side.
Sverre has also had influenza. He was sick the last couple of days that Bryan was here, but he didn't get it as bad as I did. When we took Bryan to the train on Thursday, I started to feel sick, and I was happy it hadn't started earlier.
Whenever we have had nice visitors here, this place seems twice as isolated afterwards and we long to get away from here. Perhaps we will get away sooner than we expect. It so happens, Sverre is again unemployed. Only the labourers are still working. Everything is just as uncertain-as it was before. They say that after Easter, the people who were laid off will be able to go back to work, only not all (5) of them, but maybe two or three. Who the two or three might be is hard to say. Sverre is a foreigner. In our minds we are preparing for the thought of leaving. Hindwoods have a garden house which they are willing to rent to us cheaply. Perhaps we will go there. It would be cheaper to live there than here, where groceries cost twice as much as they do in the city. We are not very upset about it and are not moaning. We can live quite comfortably for two years on the money we have. And Sverre is not Sverre if he lives for two years without earning any money. The only thing that is painful to me is the thought of leaving our camp. I love it and all that is in it. Perhaps it is always sad to leave a house in which one has lived for a while. But there is more to it than that here. We feel we want to take the windows, for example, or the glass doors of our cupboards, things that ordinary camps don't normally have, with us. Also we literally know every nail, every plank. If I could I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life in this camp, and never care about having a fine house. But that is hardly possible.
Since we don't know what is to become of us we are not going on any long trips. Sverre might go to Sydney on his own, have a look at the garden house, visit the State Monier Pipe Works etc. and then we'll make a decision. Meanwhile I will stay here and see how things develop and if there seems to be a possibility of work. I can send Sverre a telegram.
The day before yesterday, for the first time, our boat tipped over. Sverre and Ron Fagerlund went out to put out a net and as Ron is a clumsy clot. He somehow managed to fall overboard and the boat tipped over.It was floating upside down on the water since there was air inside it, but then Ron, the nincompoop, tried to turn it over, and naturally it got filled up and sank. Then Ron swam ashore while Sverre tried to hole the boat. Since it's made of iron it was pretty heavy. Luckily, just as Sverre was about to give up, a couple of tourists came by, and they managed to rescue the boat at the last minute. After that. Ron spent the whole evening sneezing, since he got cold, standing on the shore, watching Sverre's struggle with the boat. Sverre was no worse for the adventure. It would have been awful if we had lost the boat. Ron helped Sverre to build the garage and for a couple of days he had all his meals with us. Now I am so sick of him I never want to see him again. Today Sverre is finishing the garage off on his own. Right now he has gone out with the boat to get corrugated iron and peaches. When he comes back we will have lunch and then go for a little trip in our baby.
February 26, 1932
I had just written the last sentence when Sverre turned up with a boatload of iron and a rucksack full of peaches. I hurried up and lit a fire. We had lunch and while I washed up afterwards, Sverre cleaned a beautiful fish we had caught in the net. Then we went for a ride.in Baby. From here the road winds in sharp bends between the mountains, going higher and higher all the time, until, after about eight miles, you get to Yass. Once you get to the top, the country is wide open, with no trees or bushes, real sheep country. Up there I got behind the steering wheel and had my first driving lesson. It was wonderful. I learnt to start and stop, and got quite good at driving, although not faster than 15 mph. I was in a seventh heaven and felt quite impressive. About ten miles from here, in the middle of nowhere, there is a green grocer. There we bought beans, tomatoes and a delicious melon. Also there are great quantities of blackberries up there. They hang in big heavy clusters on the bushes. We picked a bag full, and overate as well. After that we drove home.
Somewhere in the area there is a big bush fire. When we were driving yesterday, the sun was glowing red throught the smoke. It looks menacing, like a storm gathering. The sky gets quite dark.
When we got home we found two tins of honey in front of the door. Sverre and Mr. Corby had robbed a bee’s nest, they found in the bush. Each got about 15 pounds of honey from it. It tastes wonderful.
Sverre is almost finished with the garage, and when he is done, I will wash the Baby on the outside, while he takes care of the inside. We have already had it for two weeks, and not yet cleaned it, since it has been standing on the street. The garage has a tin roof, a plank floor and sack walls.
Although it's not very nice for Sverre to be out of work, it still is good in a way. Firstly because he really does need a rest. His face is so thin, and lately he's had rings under his eyes. Now he's looking better with every day. Secondly it's nice for me to have him at home. I wish we could afford to be unemployed forever.
NEXT: March 1932