Daily life in Woolgoolga

I am writing this as a blog challenge from an Opinionated Man on daily life around the world.

I live outside a small coastal town just down the road from Coffs Harbour on the north coast of NSW, Australia. It is really hot here and it often rains. It is the subtropics. We have about fifteen banana trees growing in our back yard. They are very popular around these parts. These ones are  a bit small to fruit yet, obviously.

I homeschool my two boys, so we are around the house a fair bit. There is an empty block next door to our place. Sometimes we use it as a small archery range. The whole thing backs onto a tea tree swamp.

Every time we go outside, we get bitten by mosquitoes. It is just a question of how many. Kangaroos regularly come out of the swamp and hang out in our back yard. Snakes and goannas pass through from time to time. Possums live in our roof. A small flock of bush turkeys also live here. I like the bush turkeys. They share an unintentional sense of humour with chooks.

This is my washing line. I saw a photo of a washing line on a website recently which described it as ‘innovative green technology.’ It generated what I found to be a staggering discussion on such a mundane household item.  Quite a few people gave a large number of reasons as to why they felt it would never work at their place. Others felt it had a pioneering, or even rebellious nature to it. A surprising number imagined their neighbors creeping around and checking out their undies and ‘doing things.’ A lot grudgingly conceded that it might be OK for a third world country. Inevitably, one bright spark decided the whole thing was photoshopped.

Every house has a washing line. They are very simple. They dry your washing.

If I walk for about five minutes, I will find myself at the beach. Here it is. There are lots of great beaches around here. I tend to take them for granted, which I have to admit is kind of a waste. They are certainly cleaner than any others I have seen around the world.

A couple of minutes in the car will see me in Woolgoolga. It is not a very big town and probably wouldn’t be very remarkable if it wasn’t for the massive Sikh community that lives there. They make up half the towns population, and for reasons which I don’t have room to explain here, they also own most of the local farmland.

I like going in to town and seeing people in turbans and saris, and hear them speaking in another language. I have not found anything quite like it anywhere else in rural Australia. They also have this temple which you have to drive past to get in or out of town. I have never been in there, but I sure like the look of it.

So there is a bit about my place. It all seems quite ordinary to me, but that is definitely a subjective term. I am sure it is all quite exotic to someone. Now there is a funny thought.