Mates! I forgot to mention this tree, this beautifully ridiculous tree.
So, in the morning I wake up at 5am, sit outside and watch this beautiful waterfall while having the morning coffee and cigarette.
Then, when I have the second coffee and cigarette do the same thing. This time it is light and this stupid tree is right there smiling with the greenest of green leaves, God, phenomenal.
It’s not all though, at this time she is also full of colourful hummingbirds and other flying things, yeah, stupid.
Going to talk about a few things here, starting with three trees. One done.
The second, she lives near Chazuto, Peru. Can be seen from a beautiful medicine space who are almost doing it right. The French facilitator, beautiful is not the word for his voice and the way he does what he does, Magia del Duende.
Only problem however, he let a participant interfere with another participant without her asking him to do it. Was horrible. A horrible which nobody realised, including the two in question and our guide, actually promoted it. Like, please don’t do this, read through the drug stuff on the site to understand further.
Because here we only talk about this beautiful thing we exist on, the mother of every one of us, our common identity with and from her.
There is a spot at Magie del Duende, has a seat and everything where you look into the valley and see nothing but the greenest of green everywhere. With the exception of one tree, orange leaves rivalling the brightness of our father, the thing that makes balance possible at all, the sun. The tree is huge too, just the pinnacle of beautiful.
Three, she is my favourite tree ever, she is the home of all homes, one of the hiding spots to recover from the treatment of my own father. She saved my life and then some.
Home, Alvie, is where I still dedicate myself to. Returrning home last time I gave Australia five years and then am gone for good. Still maintain this. Should I be invited back under my circumstances there are only two places for me, Alvie and Mount Barney Lodge, either will do!
Colac though, this town, it would be an extremely difficult thing for them to invite me back. The last version of this journal, before part one, was very difficult and I made absolutely sure the whole town, the part that knew me, knows it. It is a gossip town too, call these people Dead Beat parents and you can be fairly sure that someones will come knocking your door down and lights out. I’d need to be safe, have to be accepted/invited back.
Mount Barney Lodge, well, have a few things to say about them too! Still homeless buddies.
But, Alvie, this tree, god damn people (P.S. it’s damn and not damned, English thing had to look into). First, it was in the one farmer’s paddock that did not want us in there. Mainly because of the bulls, and, well, the owners were pricks. Was always fun and a bit of a rush getting to it, 200 metre run through open paddock with nothing but these trees scattered occasionally.
Get to the tree though, and number two benefit comes in, can climb to the very top and walk all over it without ever falling through the thick foliage. About 30 metre diameter (diameter – the distance from one side of a circle to the other), a good walk from one side to the other and all around, no words for how beautiful this thing was.
We’d, me, Benjamin and our mates, would just sit there and watch the world from the top of the world. Could see as far as the eye could see in almost every direction on a clear day. Red Rock and the big hill behind got in the way but didn’t matter, could see either side of them.
Next, we decided to start running up there, jumping from place to place, sliding into little cave looking things naturally made of the trees twigs and leaves. Stupid STUPID fun.
Tag came next, followed by Mum and Fred banning us from ever doing it again. Then get sick of us lying, saying we weren’t playing on the top of the tree when we have just walked back inside with heaps of welts, bruises and no broken brokes, massive smiles and absolutely buggered so decided it is alright now.
The glove guns though, this was the best thing we did even though I hated them with a passion. Talk about pain. We played laser tag basically with these things that feel like bullets every time they hit bare skin. Bit of polypipe with a finger from dishwashing gloves taped to it. Put an acorn thing in it, pull back the finger while holding the acorn, release and anyone hit within seven metres would know all about it.
The tree itself produced the perfect version, half a little finger nail size, just perfect, was never a shortage of them. We would run out of fingers from gloves breaking before making a dint in the supply.
No rules either, can camp in your fort or go seeking. Seeking was usually pretty dangerous, camping could be too if you missed the seeker. They’d jump in your fort and you’d do anything possible, wicked dance moves, but these things don’t miss from 50 centimetres and they leave a welt for two weeks.
Seeking you had to be smart, walk or crawl around silently without coming into view and wait for the camper to be fucking around with another camping and hear their finger snap. POUNCE. Tigers couldn’t do it better. No time to start dancing either, could get one anywhere in the back from this, pure awesome. Pure pain. Settled after two minutes though, well, until you had to sit down, arses were the most valuable target!
So, yeah, this earth, more trees, other stuff, home. Let’s chat.
Wendy
Quite surprised it has taken this long to get to Wendy, haven’t seen her for almost 20 years, didn’t see her for six or so before that, still love her.
Love her the right way. This woman, girl at the start brought value to my life, told me the truth, was my next door neighbour. Beautiful, first love and broken heart. She did it twice!
Last time we met up was in Melbourne, towards the end of the day in a pub near her place together and I say it is time to go meet Francis. Wendy replies, Frederick, we do not need to go anywhere. She repeated it to make sure I understood what she was saying, you’re finally going to get to fuck me mate. I understood pal, kicked myself a bit for it after but understood!
Have an apology to make, told her ex-step-brother we did, was bored with the question and thought it would shut them up, pathetic excuse. Shouldn’t have said it, sorry buddy.
Also, sorry for writing FN loves W everywhere, was copycatting others, but I did it, me. Another pathetic excuse, a bit weak really, you made a much better choice. I reckon you agree.
Was heading to Iraq in a couple of weeks and wanted to see Francis, a great mate and guy too, one of my best mates at the time, would welcome him back into my life in any moment. A woman I would invite back too in Wendy.
Wendy had sex I’m pretty sure that night just not with me, pretty sure Francis had sex too. They still are as far as I am aware. Wonderful people, even Wendy’s response when I sent an email from Iraq. Fred, know that Francis and I are in love, understand. Understood mate, thank you for telling me the truth and making it simple.
Great people. Hung out with them in trees, took Wendy on dates up the glove gun tree. Took me about six months to get her talk to me, the next six months we spent all our time together, finally hugged and hold hands and stuff then she disappeared, broke my heart. As it did when I was trying to sleep two doors down, no noise but the knowing was heartbreaking. Had a little cry driving out the next day. Funny funny.
No jealousy, great people that found each other and as far as I am aware continue to share a life, like beautiful. Fuck off you and your jealousy that doesn’t allow you to appreciate others because of your own greed and hatred. Jealousy getting in the way of your heart having the capacity to appreciate others. It’s stupid. Do not pine over her, almost never ever think of Wendy and Francis but when I do it is with nothing but joy.
The trees in Alvie weren’t vast, stripped farming country, but the ones that remained were strong, proud, they stood out. They remind me of these two phenomenal people, both of whom represent themselves and I love in the same way as myself, with my whole heart. Couldn’t be more proud of bringing them together to be honest.
The sack
Had a few incidents with trees which almost came unstuck, one of which was a time where Fred really wanted to get stuck into me but could not, was too funny.
Believe it or not, fell out of a few trees and smashed into some, the odd injury but nothing serious. The balls the worst of them all.
One wasn’t a tree. 25 sutures later and one of the most disgusting injuries from a viewing perspective ended up alright. Disgusting, the fat from the inside of the upper inner thigh, about 10 centimetres from my ballsack, was on the outside of the skin. Was a fair process for the surgeon to fix this one, do not recommend tightrope walking on a barbed-wire fence ……..
Barbed-wire fences, God these things are disgusting, solely meant to maim and hurt stuff. Awful!
The next, a massive fallen down tree in the backyard which Fred warned me several times not to play on. Well, it was a massive fallen down tree only 20 metres from the house, was about 11, how could I not? Ended up in hospital getting sutures for this one too, these ones were in the sack itself.
Fell while running on it of course and one of the branches with a pointy tip ended up going straight through the bean holder. In one side and out the other, it was not fun. Fred, could see it on his face that he wanted to get mad, he didn’t, couldn’t, especially not when I had to show him the injury. Only about six ties in this one, each side of the sack.
Doctor’s laughed too, me, a bit embarrassed.
Some more big ‘ol pine trees at the bottom of a steep 60-metre gravel hill. The top was a three-metre gravel wall that we would throw rocks at and pick at with sticks making little avalanches. Some quite big, the occasional massive boulder would go rolling down the hill and settle somewhere around the trees at the bottom.
After making it all loose would jump from a punch of ledges, do somersaults down the hill and basically roll like they do on the movies when tumbling down steep things.
After a while took the bikes up, and down, they were not designed for this.
One day we arrived and a car bonnet was at the bottom. It wasn’t there for long until it was back there, then back up, back down, up, down, up, down, up, down. The bonnet was pure fun.
Three of us on it at a time and the speed we would reach was amazing. The person in the middle most vulnerable to injury, had to wait for the two outsiders to jump off before they could, bit of chicken being played.
Smashing into the trees while on the bonnet was pure fun, the boulders not so much fun. The bonnet heading directly for a tree was pure awesome, hold on for dear life to the makeshift handles we made and see where the body ended up after flying off it on impact. Never ever hurt. However, hit a boulder and there was no give on impact, bodies jerked and bounced and ended up in pain. Learnt to jump off just before.
Alvie, she was pure awesome, the greatest of greatest places to be a kid, a lot of the fun involved trees. Full explore mode and imaginations were required to entertain ourselves.
Country living is just the best, the very very best for a child, really feel for city kids. See the results of their lifestyle everywhere, lack of imaginations, lack of any type of independence, fear of any and all pain.
Kids really need to be safe to explore, experience and express themselves, have fun using their imagination. My circumstances in a city would have been pure hell, but as they were because of where I was it was also pure heaven.