26/02/09 To Dream - Perchance to Sleep

I'm not sleeping very well and not dreaming either. Perhaps there's just a little too much reality like the ever present smoke to remind us of our dependence on a benign environment for survival.

Last night at a CFA meeting I was struck by the comment of one of my colleagues who speaking about last Saturday fortnight said, "It was just nature's way of reminding us who really is controlling this planet". A pause for contemplation would be appropriate here ... because it sure isn't any of us. It doesn't matter if we'd planned for 365days and had wall to wall firetrucks and a commensurate number of fire-fighters, there wouldn't have been enough!

And while I'm on the subject - If I hear one more time, "there wasn't enough warning", I may not be responsible for my actions. I'm truly sorry for all the people who have died and all their surviving kith and kin, but what do we have to do to get the message through!!!

Well I'm sure better brains than mine are thinking about just that and much much more, in preparation for the forthcoming Royal Commission .

ooOOoo

On a more positive note - after surveying my two blackened little paddocks, I wondered what I could do to prevent being overrun by the ever-expanding capeweed. Because as soon as it rains and in bare paddocks the bloody stuff will thrive in any bare space. Went looking for the Ag department on the web and discovered it under DPI (Dept of Primary Industry).

Thanks to the persistence of a bloke called David who answered the phone and understook to find someone and call me back and did!!

I was able to speak with Erica Schelfort who has ben appointed to the Rural Recovery Team and is working on just such problems. Don't let anyone tell you that public servants aren't helpful. Erica gave me some immediate advice and undertook to send some more info in the mail. They are working on a strategy and there will soon be more info on their website.

In the meantime, if you have any similar questions, I'd give her a call on 9217 4471. But be prepared for a bit of a wait - or a call-back, she's one busy woman


This little mind-map is the shape of things to come. I'll be writing a lot more about this over the next couple of days. To have a good look at it, right-click and select image in new window.
















It's time for bed - cheers Q

24/02/2009 Why am I writing this blog?

Today is always when you remember that you forgot to write something yesterday about what happened the day before... and so it goes.

Sunday started as a bad day for me. Mostly I think because I'd been up to the farm on Saturday and taken all the pictures which you've doubtless looked at and they'd had time to percolate through my brain which somehow seemed to have drained what little colour there was from them. As though to quote Ros on the first day we returned together, "Its like driving from a colour movie into a black and white one" And partly because I spent an hour or so early on Sunday morning watering the trees and few remaining plants with water from the dam via a newly purchased fire-hose powered by my faithful old Korean fire-pump. With all the black & grey charcoal and dust which covers everything, soaking the flower beds, dessicated shrubs and the two lebanese cedars, seemed like trying to water the sahara and with little new water in sight and nothing to catch and guide it into the surviving concrete water tank if the bloody rain did fall, it all seemed somewhat gloomy. A bloke wouldn't want to get depressed!

Apart from that, it was hard to stay wondering about whether the dam was half empty or half full, particularly after I'd noticed that the almost totally blackened plum tree upon which I'd spent so much time pruning and had thought gone forever was bursting into leaf all over the place. I think in fact I'd shown it to Ros in amazement on Saturday but the memory was gone until just a few seconds ago.

Sunday afternoon I sat down and jumped into blogging for the first time. Mostly because I wanted to capture and continue our story from the point where Paul left off and make it available to all those who were interested in our survival and wanted to know what the hell we were going to do next. I also didn't want to send and respond to innumerable emails, so a blog seemed like a reasonable way to go.

Over the years I've kept and destroyed or lost numerous journals and in one sense this is a continuation of that process. I have no idea how long I will continue but even in three days it's become a process I quite look forward to engaging with. It would be untruthful to say that it doen't matter if anyone else reads it.

To be frank I encourage people to comment if they should be so inclined. I'd quite like this to become a reasonably interactive space, so your response, thoughts and comments are most welcome.

Barnstorming
On Sunday afternoon Ros & I talked about building a new barn. I think we'd like it to be constructed of wood and hope that the Council doesn't have knee jerk reaction to the idea. What we're thinking about is to clear the existing site and locate the new barn inside our actual cadastral boundary instead of halfway across the road alignment where it's probably been for more than a 100 years.

We have a 99 year lease on the road easement and on second thoughts I'm beginning to wonder why we'd change the location. Will have to chat with Ros about this.

The exact location will be determined in due course but the primary reason for wanting to build it is to have some way of catching rain and storing tools and equipment while we are living on site in a caravan which is to be lent to us by the Reynolds of Sydney.

Yesterday I spoke with the only Victorian wooden barn-building organisation I could find on Google and downloaded some brochures and prices for comment by "Uncle Dig" in South Australia who is in fact my youngest brother and a licenced builder to boot. With a few queries in hand from Dig, I went back to them today and discovered that it appears local govt are cracking down on people who want to build barns on vacant land and won't let this be done unless a house planning permit is sought at the same time. Will have to have a chat with the planning people at Nillumbik. It also seems likely that we may have to wait for new post bushfire building regulations to be promulgated.

On the positive side, the barn-building guys are very keen for us to have a look at some of their constructions and seem to be pretty flexible about additional windows, doors and the like.

The bloody power has just gone off!!! It's back on after a few minutes but I'm not taking any chances - that's all for today

Monday 23/02/09 Catching Up with some Thank You's

Having seen all these pictures of disaster and destruction, some of you may be wondering where Ros & I are now.

By a wonderful choice of location, our daughter Cait, husband Nicco and the grandchildren Angus & Phoebe, are at Nth Warrandyte only 20 mins away from Little Wood Farm and so are we.

I think Cait was expecting that we might need some sort of assistance in about 30 years or so and wasn't really expecting a full dress rehearsal just yet. That said, all the players in this little drama have shown nothing but support. I mean, who without a word of complaint gives up their very comfortable double bed for a futon. And we won't mention the disruption caused by having two additional adults for the children to manipulate in the most positive and loving way of course.

If ever there was scope for absolute chaos and havoc, our sudden arrival would have to be up there with the worst of them, but I can say in absolute honesty that we have been made to feel so welcome and supported not only by our immediate families here in Nth Warrandyte with Cait & Nicco and also son Benj & Ema his partner in Fitzroy; but also our relatives and friends in WA, South Australia and NSW and by a myriad of their friends for whom nothing has been too much!

I would especially like to mention Fiona (the fabulous Fifi) & Ben, Mick & Anne, Nadia & Marcus, Cathy & Jamie, Nicole & David, Nicole & Michael, Suzie G, Kim, Jan & Richard, Becca & Sean, Caroline, Anita & Bernie, who have all rallied around Cait and helped us all during these first stressful weeks.

From day-1, we have received, clothing, meals, drinks, transport, wonderful humour, great support and company as well as plenty of hugs and kisses and space to be alone when we needed it.

A thank-you to all these loving relatives and friends, co-workers, acquaintances and people we had almost forgotten we knew, and some who are friends of friends we have never met, who sent gifts and love that can never be repaid, is simply inadequate.

Similarly the efforts of the agencies like Red Cross, St John's, DHS, CentreLink, the Shire of Nillumbik and all their supporters as well as my beloved CFA and the other firefighting agencies like DSE and of course the Police from Victoria and NSW who been nothing short of fabulous in helping to support and maintain the privacy of grieving people.

The suppliers of clothing, food, hats toiletries and massages - hundreds of people I'll never know. Boots from Yakka and Blundstone and an American Company whose name I've forgotten - assistance from Telstra, Vic Roads and teh power companies. Finally I want to mention our employers - The Austin Hospital for Ros and IBM for me, both of whom have been incredibly supportive to us both.

As a non-believer, the closest I can come to godliness is to accept the spirit which has brought all of these people and thousands more like them in enormous generosity to us and the hundreds like us, who now have only each other to begin, with this wonderful sense of support, the task not of rebuilding but rather creating new lives together.

The blessing is that we have the opportunity to start again when so many have not.

Our sympathy and hope for the many who have lost friends, relatives and loved ones - There are no words that have any real meaning except to say how sorry we are.

From the deepest well-springs of our hearts a THANK YOU to each and every person and organisation who has donated, time, money, goods, effort and love to us and those like us, who have been given the chance to start again.

Q

Sunday 22/02/09 - In Memoriam

Today has been declared a national day of mourning so that Australia can remember those who tragically died on what has now become "Black Saturday" 07/02/09. I am unable to mourn publicly and have chosen instead to share our story from the end to a new beginning and beyond.

The following is an extract from the Sydney Morning Herald. I'm sure it is copyright and that is acknowledged.The full article written by Paul McGeough who we knew as a close family friend from our 10 years in Perth may be found here -

http://www.smh.com.au/national/the-painful-truth-20090213-877u.html?page=-

"....

In St Andrews, six kilometres down the mountain from Kinglake, Quentin Addison, 60, did that - as a CFA crew leader he was on the case on the Friday night, making sure his household was in order, because of the likelihood that he would be on a fire engine on Saturday.

His theatre nurse wife, Ros, and three German backpackers who were staying with them were confidently across their assigned tasks, as they went to the local store to get a chick-flick to while away the searing afternoon heat.

At 12.30pm Addison's pager went off. The area in which he was putting out fires was over a hill and about 1.5 kilometres as the crow flies from their home on a sweeping bend on the Heidelberg-Kinglake Road. He tried to call a couple of time - network busy.

"We had a nice salad for lunch," said Ros Addison, 56. But before they were to sit down to watch their DVD, she and the backpackers set about some final tidying up outside.

By then smoke was coming into the valley. She ordered one of the backpackers to activate a pump on the dam, which was about 100 metres from the house, to feed all the garden sprinklers. She filled the kitchen sink and laundry trough and warned her guests of the need to drink a lot of water.

"Then I heard the sound," Ros Addison said. "I asked the girls: 'Do you hear that? It's the fire coming.' "

One of the backpackers, Julia, asked if a helicopter would be coming to rescue them. Instead, Ros ordered them to drop the hoses they had been using and to go indoors, where they retreated to the laundry. It was then that she looked out towards one of the reasons they had bought the property in the mid-1990s - a beautiful old ironbark barn, which was down the slope from the house. "It was on fire, glowing bright red."

It was about 5.30pm. The fire was spreading across the paddocks at the same time as it rushed up a fence-line, along which trees planted by a neighbour egged it on. As the sky darkened to black she was stunned by an eerie beauty that came with disaster: "In the grey smoke the sun was this incredible golden, pink orb - exquisite."

Smoke seeping into the house prompted the alarms to shriek. Draping wet towels over their heads, they refilled all the bottles and jugs they could carry and used some of Quentin Addison's belts to fashion leads for three disoriented dogs.

They would have to move. As she ordered the Germans downstairs, Ros Addison heard the lounge-room windows shattering. Then she saw that a hedge near the carport, which was attached to the house, was on fire.

"I told the girls that the house was on fire but that we would be OK. We would go to a spot in the garden, three metres from the house, which had been burnt black - there would be no fuel. But the radiant heat from the house-fire meant that we had to keep moving - this time to the dam wall. I said: 'That's it, girls - the complete Australian experience.' And then we discussed colours for the new sofa."

Making her way with her guests back to the unscathed St Andrews town centre, Ros Addison counted 15 destroyed homes. Many more were left in the wake of the fire as it roared up the valley, in the other direction, to maul Kinglake, on the ridge line.

In the meantime, Quentin Addison and his CFA colleagues went from spot-fire to spot-fire. He explained in a matter-of-fact way: "I was conscious that the fire was likely to be in the vicinity of my place - but I was confident that Ros would do what she had to do and I had a job to do on the truck. She might get singed. But I was able to switch off, because I knew she would survive."

As they moved to another fire, which destroyed a local winery, Addison caught a glimpse up the valley in which they lived. Judging by the other landmarks that had disappeared, he figured he had become one of the dozens of CFA volunteers who had lost their homes while they were off attempting to save the property of others.

After the fire the Addisons' only possessions are one of their three cars, a torch, one family snap, Ros Addison's wallet and a freshly laundered pair of pyjamas that she happened to grab as she left the house for the last time.

Quentin Addison had been back to the wreckage of their home but, when they went back together on Thursday, they allowed the Herald to join them.

Within minutes of arriving, Addison's gruff exterior gave way to a warm display of love. On his hands and knees, he sifted the ash for his wife's jewellery - he found the choker she wore as the mother of the bride eight years ago, a jade bracelet and much more. She emerged from the rubble with a charred biscuit-tin filled with ash - the letters he had written to her when they were courting.

"Our story is boring," Ros Addison insists. "But, yeah, it's a good one - we don't have a house but we have a family that's intact."

Paul McGeough is the Herald's chief correspondent."

Paul has told the story well and if it hasn't become clear that I think Ros is an absolute hero then it's not his fault. He was almost right about my age, I'm 60 in June.

I never really knew whether Ros would be able to meet the crisis that a bushfire presented but I had absolute faith that she would do her utmost to ensure the safety of our guests Lena, Guillia and Isobel from Wertheim in Germany and of course our beloved dogs Angas, Meggie & Fergal.

On the back of a tanker from St Andrews, I could only trust that she had received my phone message and would have time to enact the fire plain. It wasn't until many hours later after the fire truck had returned to the brigade assembly area in St Andrews, that I found out from one of my CFA colleagues that they were all safe and knew that my faith in Ros had been more than justified.

Having faced and survived one of life's most terrifying experiences and lost her home of 15,16 or 17 years - we can never quite agree or more probably I can't remember, I have no doubt that there is no challenge that Ros cannot overcome.

Yesterday we took Ros' sister Leanne, nephew, Matthew and our georgeous daughter Cait and her husband Nicco to have a look at the farm and take some pictures. Leanne & Matt had come down from Sydney to make sure we really were alive and to see what had happend to the place where they had spent a most enjoyable Christmas in 2007.

Ros & I had previously been back but this was the first time I had a camera other than my phone.

There are 267 images - I'll let them speak for themselves. Apart from the first few taken adjacent to Mitton's Bridge Road which is a couple of kilometeres from St Andrews township, the rest are of Little Wood Farm.

I've just realise after waiting for 10 minutes that it will be much smarter to load the pics into Picasa and point you there.

I'll probably do this later tonight ... well I hope this works

http://picasaweb.google.com.au/Nossida/02072009BushfiresAtLittleWoodFarm#