Everything Costs Money, Mate

We've been in Australia for ten days. In that time, we bought a car, found a house to rent, and bought or found or were given all the furniture and household goods we needed. I'm proud of that, and thankful to God for provision, even through our multiple stupidities. My favorite thing was finding stuff on the side of the road, until we found an awesome couch but no truck. Dang. I imagined the Corolla hatch stuffed with the thing, but thought we'd just end up with a bunch of fines for traveling with three kids sitting on a couch stuffed in a small car. 

 We needed everything, because it was too expensive to ship anything from the States. It cost almost as much to ship it all from Wyoming to San Francisco as it did from SF to Sydney. Anyone from Wyoming will say, "Yeah, I can believe it."

So, a week or so before we left Lander, we bought five huge suitcases, added these to the ones we already had, and packed everything we'd take with us...everything else: furniture, dishes, toilet scrubbers, linens, was either stored or given away or sold. The RAV, I remember, was weighed down by ten huge bags (two each), five carry-ons, and a guitar. We got everything on without paying extra (a feat and due to kindness by the sky checker). We arrived in Sydney with all our bags falling off trolleys, with people staring at us, and thinking "Either they are immigrating or they are too attached to their stuff," and it was weird to think that that was it. Nothing else was coming. I had an icon that Mary Dean gave me, a photo of my SOS sisters, and some books...and a pharmacy worth of supplements. 

So, we bought the car--and got kicked in the rear by interest rates (no credit history). Working on that one. Jimboo Badaa or whoever it was at Lander Toyota, in response to a question about some extra fee we had to pay, said simply, “Everything costs money, mate.” That was the first time I wanted to really shock an Australian—maybe talk super-fast in the most drawling accent I could muster, or make some sarcastic remark about ten-ton soreheads, aka Patty Trautman speech, (which he wouldn’t understand). The RAV will probably have to be sold to pay for this car, because 600 per month for a 2012 Corolla is pretty ridiculous. Our house is great, but as everything here is, expensive. I dodged the bullet by not getting the barf-wall house with the pool. Well, I did get shot at, verbally, by the kids. The house we got allowed us to buy only the one little car though, because Thaddeus can walk to work. I'll be the school bus. 

Then we started shopping. I bought three beds, three dressers, five end tables, multiple lamps, pots and pans, silverware, linens of all kinds, garbage cans, utensils, mixing bowls, a sandwich maker (more awesome than toasters), a tea kettle, blankets, glasses of different sorts, plateware, hangers, towels, mattress pads, pillows, a couple of rugs, table and chairs (outdoor teak 1/2 off but cool for inside too), couch, a couple of recliners, coffee table, two-seater couch, washer and fridge (WTH there are regularly no appliances in rentals here)....my German Henrietta grandma came out and protested quite often, but I reminded her that we got most of the stuff at least 50% off (great time to buy here) and even found two of the recliners, some saris (cool for decor), some plateware, a cool pink bottle, and some boogie boards, all on Council Chuck-Out Day here in Toongabbie. We even got a little two-seater couch for $49. I wonder: either we got an awesome sale or it will just fall apart one day. I looked for dressers, but was sent to large wardrobes, like in the Lion, Witch and Wardrobe. I finally found a store that carried them, but they are called "Hi-boys" or something of some such. The guy who sold me the bed and helped me figure out what I meant by 'dresser' had a strangely familiar accent. His name is Craig and he is from South Africa. I told him I'd been there, on a political and mission trip in 1989, so we had a good time talking about various places and issues there. He left, finally, in the early 90s because public places were being bombed. The South African accent is very beautiful; something between Dutch, Australian, and English. Craig looked to me like a mixture of black and white, or black and Indian, and I so wanted to ask him about the racial situation there; I just wasn't sure of the tact or faux pas around all that, so I kept it on the weather, so to speak. He knew where Colorado was, but not Wyoming. Funny, Wyoming is largely unknown here. Surprises me for some reason. 

We got so tired and hot shopping that we went to Macca's (McDonald's). They've got little deals in different fast-food restaurants ($1 frozen cokes at Hungry Jack's((Burger King)); 30 cent cones at Macca's), but most of the time, it's bloody expensive. Meat is cheaper here, and better, and so is fresh fruit and veggies. Domino's does a $5 large pizza deal on Tuesdays, and you look for stuff on sale. 

My head is spinning and I'm thoroughly sick of shopping and sick of money. The kids are blissfully unaware of the money part, but they've had to suffer through Poco's and Harvey Norman's, rolling around listlessly on giant beds and carpets while I filled up trolleys. What a grind, even when you're lucky enough to have some money to spend. It is the tactical thinking that I get tired of...and I don't, as a rule, even like shopping. I'd rather wear old, old underwear than buy any. I hate stores, but it is sure nice to have some choice around when you need it. There's something good though, Landerites, about not being around 'Blacktown Mega Centre.' I just want to go to the beach now. 

Thank you, God, though, for providing for us. Wow.