Page 181 - Exile-ebook
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180  AN EXILE OF THE MIND   WHERE THE COWS SLEEP AT NIGHT                      181


 for a book entitled  Wild  New  world in the thickly wooded acreage.
 Zealand. Michael King and Maurice   The house site was chosen where
 Shadbolt  were amongst several  cows  flopped  at  night  for  com-
 excellent writers persuaded to make  fort and four-leaf  clover grew  for
 contributions to the book. I revisited  luck amongst  the  sticky  patches  of
 Hawera, the town I had once lived  sundews. A kilometre-long drive
 in, calling in on Jane Lawrence and  through a forest of ironbark, black-
 her mother, Doris, on the way.  butt  and turpentine  opened  into a
 After  working  with  two  other  clearing and a natural spring where
 Sydney book publishers I headed to  frogs loudly  croaked to compete
 the sparsely populated countryside  with a chorus of cicada leg friction
 of northern New South Wales with  in the forest around us.
 my new partner, Anna. Buying 100   The project  was  accomplished
 acres of forest on sandy loam soil,  almost  single-handedly  with  help   Preparing the house roof with my two boys.
 we set  about creating a lifestyle  of  from Marcel and Jean-Paul, press-
 self-sufficiency, 50 kilometres from  ganged into labour when they came   the  Widow  Maker, complete  with  shoulder by a whisper and taking off
 the nearest town.   to visit in the school holidays. Anna’s   winch, hoisted  the  heavy  poles  the Widow Maker’s mudguard.
 The two-storey  mudbrick house  brother-in-law helped with the roof.  into  place  and  almost  lived  up  to   Six thousand large  mudbricks,
 in the shape of a hexagon took over   Thirty-six tree  trunks up to   its  name. The  heavy  logs  swayed  each  weighing  a back-breaking 18
 five  years  to  build,  using  timber  seven metres long were used for the   precariously  as they  were  winched  kilograms,  were  shaped  from the
 hewn from the forest and clay from  inner and outer hexagon structure,   up and threatened to come crashing  clay soil with a sprinkling of straw
 the ground. We called the property  with  trees  sawn into planks for   down on my head. As one did before  for extra strength. The forest, the
 Tanglewood. It was hidden from the  the roof frames. A tractor called   I  could  yell  ‘timber’.  Missing  my  soil and sweat, were  the main




















 My team at Reader’s Digest.  Anna in the Sydney apartment.  Jean-Paul and his friend, Nathan, making mudbricks.
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