Going Through Changes

We've been wrestling with this decision since we left How Now Dairy, but hitting one year of homelessness last month was the turning point. So my parents went to the real estate agent last Thursday afternoon, May 21, to list our land for sale. On Friday morning, the agent came out to take photos for the listing, and with her was a man who was looking for a new property for his horses. And he agreed to our price. Within 24 hours, our proposed timeline suddenly shrunk from three months to just six weeks, at which point my family and I will be returning to our homeland, New Zealand. The past twelve months have shown us that we have no future in Australia.

While I'm allowed to bring my dogs, our rats and our cattle will have to be rehomed. It's very upsetting but life hasn't left us with any other options. Our calves will be moving to a new home in northern Victoria. I haven't even looked for a new home for our rats yet.

There is so much to be done. Besides sorting our stuff and packing. Flights, hotels, a job and a place to live on the other side. I expect NZ's enforced quarantine will still be in place by the time we go, so we'll have to spend two weeks in a hotel under strict supervision by authorities. The worst part of that will be not having my dogs with me. And New Zealand law does not allow "owner training" of assistance dogs, so Skuggi won't be an assistance dog anymore. My whole lifestyle is going to change.

I have mixed feelings about this. Excitement about a new adventure, some relief that our sucky situation is going to change, but also a lot of anxiety and sadness. New Zealand is a beautiful country, but I never wanted to return there to live. Visit, sure, but my whole life was in Australia. This is my home - I suppose now I should say "was my home." Its people have let us down too many times and we can't survive here. But saying goodbye to my friends, my playful steer Logan, my mischievous rat Pixie, and everything I worked so hard for during 13 years in this country will be hard. I hope it's worth it in the end.

My next post should be more upbeat. It is nice to finally have something to aim for, and an end date for this unpleasant chapter of my life.

(Sorry for the lack of photos in this post. Blogger is having some issues today, apparently.)

One Year

Heads up. This is a rant post. A whinge post. I'm not in a good headspace and this post reflects that. So if you don't want to read my complaints about my life, you should stop reading now.

--------

A year ago today, we drove out the front gate of How Now Dairy for the last time, exhausted and anxious with no idea what would happen next. I certainly didn't think I would ever be writing this post.

But today marks one year of homelessness. One year of begging for help and hoping this nightmare would end. One year of applying for jobs and being ignored or turned down. One year of being repeatedly betrayed and abandoned by people I thought cared about us. 

My dogs and I spent the first ten nights sleeping on a mattress in the back of my car.

The first version of our camp.

Our cattle eating well, although Goldie was still a little thin after calving.

The first couple of months out here weren't too bad. In fact, within a short amount of time, we had managed to score another job and a house. But the day before we were going to move in, things started to fall apart. And then we lost it all. The house and the job and the friend who had helped organize it, and Goldie's calf as well.

Camp version 2 in June, now with two canvas tents. There were a lot of foggy days during this time.

After that, morale took a big hit. We only had enough savings for approximately two months, and once that time was up, the money ran out. We went into the winter living in tents. Some people started to act like this whole thing was our own fault. Some unkind things were said and we realized those people did not have our best interests at heart. With us living like this, we had nothing left to give and it brought out people's true colours. Trust is a hardwon thing but easily damaged, apparently, and we lost more people than I expected as the support dropped away and we were condemned for our "poor choices." But anyway, we kept living, through the frosty nights and squally rains. And then we came into spring, still in the tents.

Out on the bush tracks with Tess and Skuggi, October 2019.

Early days in the bus, with the bunks not quite fully installed.

Eventually, we got a nice bit of extra money from the government and brought an ex-school bus to live in. But summer was even tougher than the winter. No airconditioning through multiple days of 40*C+. I remember one horrible night in particular where it was still 35 degrees at midnight, with gusty winds that were scorching hot and carrying a heavy blanket of smoke into our camp. We were quite worried about bushfires but in a minor miracle, our property remained safe. And summer ended, and what a relief it has been to experience the cool of autumn and the first decent rainfalls of 2020.

A smoky day on the property, January 2020.

But winter is on its way back again now and we're still here, and it feels like it won't end. I ask myself, what did we do to deserve this? Why are we still homeless and jobless after a whole year of applying for multiple jobs every week? The only answer I can come up with is that people suck. They don't care about others. While we have had some help from some people and I am so grateful to them, at this point I truly believe that the majority of the population is selfish. 

When we first ended up here, someone told me not to be bitter. But I am bitter. I'm angry. The unfairness of the situation eats at me. The endless stress of not knowing if we'll be able to afford food next week or fuel to run our generator for power is exhausting.

I don't know what will happen next, because I don't have any options. I don't have any choices. (Grammarly asks, don't you mean you don't have "many" choices? No, I really do mean that I don't have any.) I feel like my life is just kind of happening, time going by without me. It's forcing me where I don't want to go and whatever happens next is completely out of my control. I want to believe I have a future, and a good life ahead of me, but the past twelve months have destroyed all my dreams and now I can't do any of the things I'd planned to.

We gave everything we had at How Now Dairy and what did we get in return? Nothing.

--------

I've written this blog post over several weeks. Taking parts out, adding things in, trying to accurately convey what it's like to live like this. And I wanted so badly to be able to end this post with some good news, some hope, but I have none.

The best dogs, my whole reason for getting up every morning.