Sam Cutler

With “other fish to fry” the poor old blog got side-lined for a while there. No puny excuses no “exit stage lines” no explanations just the simply reality. It refused to appear and I didn’t force it to. But like a comatose body with the apparent characteristics of a corpse one day as I considered its sad and immobile bulk it twitched, it sighed and farted, and then it opened its eyes and smiled. The blog returned to life, and here it is, fresh as a daisy.

There have been many adventures. Every day has begun with the search for happiness (as Stendhal said) and that always relates to a key. The key (not to life) but the bus ! Without the engine she no go, so starting up the lady becomes a vital morning ritual. I put a kettle on the stove to boil water for morning tea, then I go to the driver’s seat and stick the key in the ignition and see if she sparks into life. If the bus starts, I starts - she no go I no go. Simple ! Thus far my wonderful companion (A 1989 toyota coaster) has never let me down, except the one time I left the head-lights on and flattened the batteries. A reliable vehicle is the key to transportation ! The lady fires up, the kettle boils, tea is made and all is well with the world. I pull the awning out, set up my table, sit down and write on my lap-top. This has been my daily pattern of activity.

Here in Australia we have many festivals, and one of my favorites is the Woodford Folk Festival which is held in rolling grasslands about two hours north of Brisbane in the state of Queensland. I arrived with the bus and one of my sons and we set up camp. A lady friend joined us three days later and had been there for two hours. It had been raining steadily for days. My friend went to the toilet and fell over in the mud and broke her ankle. I spent the whole festival looking after her and didn’t see one of the several hundred bands that were on the week’s bill. What appeared to be a bad sprain got slowly worse with bruising and swelling and finally we made the long trek to the hospital. The leg was encased in plaster and the lady had to go to her parent’s house - all of this on New Years Eve ! It was not an auspicious start to the coming year and the celebrations were decidedly muted. I sat sheltering from the rain with my son Bodhi and his friend Tynan, said a desultory happy new year, and retired to bed in the bus. The following day I drove to Sydney.

I am now in Sydney being a full-time nurse until the end of January. As Lennon said, “life is what’s happening whilst you’re busy making plans for something else”. The lady has a month of severely reduced mobility and I have my work cut out carrying and fetching. When the going gets tough the tough get going ! What to do ? One cannot simply abandon one’s friends when they need help - it’s not a good look ! So I am here, trying to be gracious and not resentful, and back to my writing.

I have actually been working on the outline of a novel. I always swore I would never write a novel as my life had been the functional equivalent of being trapped in a novel, but the form has slowly and effectively insinuated itself into my consciousness. A twenty first century tale is beginning to gestate in my head and there’s little I can do about it. It’s been busy being born for quite a while, hence the lack of a blog. I know, I said I wouldn’t explain the blog’s absence but somehow the reason for my dilatory productivity needs to be talked about. I haven’t been idle, I’ve just been on the “blog missing list” and paying attention to my own imagination.

The blog has returned. The writing is going well. My friend is finally taking the arnica I’ve been going on about for the last two weeks. I have a spring in the steps of my neurons ! The old grey matter is firing away. Who knows, sometime before I die I might complete the great novel which lurks within .

I’m working on it ! Happy two thousand and pen to one and all !