My solo sojourn at the farm has come to an end. I’m still here, but no longer alone. Doc has arrived, together with another couple of friends.
So how did I go for a week on my own?
As I’ve said before, I’m a loner (and it’s still not a typo). I love being on my own and very rarely get lonely, even being way out here with nobody else for miles. Maybe I’m just antisocial, but I enjoy the solitude and really like doing what I want to do when I want to do it. Anyway, I wasn’t truly alone – I did have social media to keep me company. I had people to communicate with even if I couldn’t see or speak with them.
Nights were sometimes a bit scary. Old houses have lots of creaks and groans at night and there were a few times where I was sure it was footsteps outside. How I thought anybody would even get out here in the dark I don’t know, but things aren’t always logical or rational when it’s dark. Luckily my dominant sleep gene made sure it didn’t get too bad.
With no time to keep to other than trying to photograph the sunrise and sunset, and nobody to see, the biggest problem was trying not to get lazy. Lazy is my natural state, so trying to overcome that was a challenge. I am very happy to sit in a hammock all day and read, with just my books and thoughts for company.
But after a few days of that I started turning into a character from Lord of the Flies.
I understand why people who live alone set the table and eat dinner with candlelight and the good crockery. Having a routine, and making sure you maintain a certain standard of behavior, helps you to maintain other standards as well. Like safety.
It’s far too easy for laziness to move into complacency, as it did one time when I went out with no phone, no water, and wearing thongs (unsexy rubber footwear for all you non-Aussies).
I have been accused of being addicted to my smart phone and sometimes oversharing on social media, but out here the phone does have a much more important use. If I get in trouble I need to be able to contact somebody for help. Otherwise I could be stuck somewhere for days, with nobody having the slightest idea where I am, or even that I need help.
While here I did discover the secret to riding a quad bike as I went exploring around the farm. Sit on your seat lightly, keeping your weight on your feet. With your weight on your feet you don’t bounce around nearly as much and it makes it much easier to move your weight around to counter-balance the bike. And it’s a great workout for your thighs. It’s a shame I didn’t stumble onto that out until my last day on my own, otherwise I’d have thighs like a supermodel now! Or a wrestler.
And maybe I wouldn’t have shaken that tooth loose. Yes, I lost a crown. From the front of my mouth. At the top. I wasn’t doing anything in particular, just eating an olive.
Doc said to tell you that when he turned that I had scratches all over my legs (from moving fallen tree limbs), a bandage on my thigh (actually only a bandaid where I cut myself on my broken wine glass), a bump on my head (falling out of my hammock), and a missing tooth (it just fell out). He laughed and called me Lurlene. I’m sure I won’t hear the end of it all for a very long time!
So you can all stop worrying now, I’m safe. Now I have to put the experience to good use and venture further out on my own. Camping.
And start serious planning for my solo outback trip.
