Fleeing for the Hills

Some  bright soul has been banging out Christmas Carols on a P.A. system the Foo Fighters would dream of, down at the local oval all afternoon. I thought it was my neighbours across the road doing weird karaoke to one another once their son left in his lime green ute. I don't really know them that well, but it turns out, they are not as dorky as my imagination would have them. After 'closing' my door with more than necessary force in a futile , somewhat childish protest, turning up my own stereo and feeling righteously Grinch, I realised the sound was floating cross town from down at the school oval....and would be all afternoon.

Goodbye peaceful Sunday on the veranda reading the paper. These carols sucked. I'm not a big Christmas who-ha person anyway but soprano notes on All I want for Christmas were making my stomach turn. All I want for Christmas is to stop these stupid carols. (Newsflash - "Grinch Grouch pre-middle aged woman dies with ears bleeding  and gritted teeth. Unknown if due to business or cheer-related stress.") I washed down my beer quickly and started to cook. Frustrated. Not wanting to be inside. I'm inside all week! I had energy to burn, but didn't want to do anymore housework.  Nor listen to this unholy racket.

Shoes on, pre-exercise beer in the system,  I started off down the street to explore north Quorn in more detail.  Just about every time I go walking in Quorn, I discover something new: a foot bridge, a sleepy lizard, a new park, a short cut. This time I saw two kangaroos, another sleepy, walked past two ten year old girls in cowboy boots looking for a boy in blue who had done the dash from a birthday party - before the cake was even cut!!!! Imagine. The party was kinda near the school oval. Poor little bugger.  Flee, flee for the hills!

I walked past horse yards, down Arden Vale Road, feeling free and happy with my choice to live here. Choosing a tree change. Feeling good again about this little town, my new home. A blue heeler flew out of the yard barking and scared the living daylights out of me as I wondered past his turf.

"Chill out Bluey," I coo. He snarls back unconvinced, smelling soprano in the air.

I high tail it back down past Williams St, looking at the native gardens and sinister pine trees making noise  in the winds that have been gusting all day.  I look at abandoned houses, and the backstreets of a town with its roots in the 1800s, the iron clad and stone cottages restored, painted, so quiet. I head back toward my own. I pass a fig tree in an abandoned block and pull three early season ripe figs and think of grilling them tonight, with turmeric honey and pistachio ice cream.

Entering my own garden at 7pm with the evening glow stretched across the yard,  I inspect my own trees and pull another 4 figs from my sprawling fig and relish the delight of fruit-bearing plants,  being able to share  excess with my new neighbor friends down the road and more broadly, a grander hope for fun times in the years ahead.

With the year coming to a close, Im looking forward to travel again soon, the anonymity of the airport transit lounge, time off and cold climate Tasmania with Mt Wellington as the backdrop, and yes, fresh seafood and more fresh produce.

The carollers are still going. They are now repeating carols. Holy moly. Cars parked up and down the street. All the life in Quorn is at the oval. I pull out the bottle of Baileys and slink ice cubes into a large glass. If you can't beat em, join em.

Deck the Halls and Lets Get Trollied!

Business Survival Pep-Talk

Nobody talks of entrepreneurship as survival, but that's exactly what it is and what nurtures creative thinking.

Anita Roddick


That's what it feels like - like being born into battle, landed like a wet heap on the floor after a few comfy months and facing a long summer when the market goes quiet and the savings are ebbing.  Entrepreneurs adopt a sort of bloody mindedness about priorities in every aspect of life that costs something. Everything  is under review, in the act of paring back scant resources and pushing forward priorities. Things have to be said directly and honestly and brutal decisions made, for a business to take shape and get momentum.


Pure survival. For 3 hours driving back up to Quorn from a weekend break in Adelaide I thought long and hard about what I can do to generate more income to keep going. Thoughts about going to China to complete my MBA are fading fast, think what $4000 could do in my business! I don't want to give up damn it, I won't give in with this much invested. Database marketing, write letters send out those fliers. Get that website up! Jesus, how can you run a regional business without one?! every week it's not up, I'm losing around $1000 I reckon - potentially.


My chiro and physio - both small business owners while treating my body this morning gave me the pep talks I was looking for, advice and support coming from unlikely places:


You need start-up capital to support your business, have you considered a loan? 


I got great advice from so-and-so in Adelaide and he turned my business around in 3 years when it was going down hill. We bought a house that was too expensive and we had negative income when I started. I had an accountant who said 'yes', now I have one that says 'no' and tells me why, and he's the one who has helped me turn it all around...


How did you get your income up and running? I spoke at schools, told people what I did and how I did it, not why I was the greatest. You guts it out, develop your nerve. You will never have the security that a salary gives you, you leave it at the gate to do what you want.


I chose to market not through advertising, but word of mouth on solid reputation. his is a longer path, be prepared to go hungry, and work long hours. I wanted customers who would come back again, not the quick fix.