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dearestxiao · 5 months

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Family dinner with Childe is hell because of his younger siblings. What are you going to do? Break his sibling’s hearts by saying all the horrible things their brother actually does to you?? Your beef is with Childe, not his family. These are innocent kids.

And Childe knows that you wouldn’t break their heart, which is why he can get away with a LOT more than he can when you’re alone

You’re stuck even more than you are when you’re alone. And you’re forced to smile and act happy and like you love Childe, because the alternative is even more pain all around for everyone. -Woof Woof

yes yes yes right!!! you dread family dinners with childe. they're the sole and only nights childe is able to completely back you into a corner and get you to play along into the role of a sweet, lovely couple. childe's whole family can just see how happy he is around you, and that extends to his precious younger siblings, who gleam up at you with bright innocent eyes filled with utter admiration. they've adored you since the very day ajax first brought you home. and he adores how they make you pull off such a good performance.

they're just so happy! they're not blind to just how in love their brother is, far from it. this is made especially so with how childe is able to get away with smothering you with as much love (sweet kisses, an arm constantly wrapped around your waist, big bear hugs, all of the things you'd usually pull away from) as humanly possible due to the fact you can't pull away, not infront of everyones watchful eye. it fuels their curiosity and adoration. they can't help but to ask you so, so many questions at the dinner table as everyone watches. they ask you about how you've met and how you two fell in love. they nail down how loving he is towards you and isn't ajax just the greatest? they ask if you plan to get married anytime soon and ask if you're going to be their sibling-in-law. they even exclaim that you two should be married under the tsarista, that way you'd never, ever be split away from one another.

you feel like a bug being inspected under a microscope, especially as childe is watching you carefully with a soft little smile on his face.

and you (forcibly) descend into an award-winning act while you chat with everyone, smiling and speaking in as gleeful of a tone as you could muster up while you try to hold back showing off your sheer discomfort. you answer every question as satisfactory as you can while still trying to perserve your dignity. the soft squeezes your hand recieves from childe as you speak serve as a motivator, a little reminder that he's listening to each and every word coming out of your mouth. you never stray even an inch away from the script because you know better than that.

they bring you gifts some of your visits, usually small crafts they've made specially for you. they make 'wedding rings' and 'bouquets' for you and ajax out of whatever materials they can find. they draw family portraits with you, their future sibling-in-law, included, little stick-men figures depicting you and childe and the rest of the large family holding hands. you thank them (sometimes awkwardly, usually begrungedly) for each and every little thing that they gift you no matter just how uncomfortable it makes you.

and truthfully, it all hits you right in the heart and hard. childe, of course, loves to take advantage of this.

because how could you possibly hurt them? how could you ever even think of removing those precious little smiles off of their faces by telling them the truth? how could you ruin their perception of childe, who they love and adore more than you could ever even begin to imagine? no, your grievance is with the man himself, not them.

you're less unsure of what to do in this situation and instead more aware that there's nothing that can be done. you wish, desperately, that you could tell any of them, even his parents, of the truth, show them who their son really is, but why would they believe you? he treats you so lovingly, he's practically an angel to you.

what's worse is that you know deep down that it wouldn't even matter if they did believe you. I mean, they haven't seen him this happy since before he had disappeared all these years ago. why would they ever want to take that away from him? the bottom line is, they'd give anything to keep him like that.

(also, truth be told, most of them have probably already catched on but simply do not care).

after the nights over, childe loves to give you a sweet peck on the cheek as he exclaims just how good you've done. but, truth be told, he can't help but notice just how bare that ring finger is. maybe his family is right. maybe he should hurry up and 'seal the deal' already. maybe his precious little siblings deserve a 'sibling-in-law' as amazing as you.

#also.... dont even get me started on the rest of his family #and DONT get me started on just how much worse itd be if you were his childhood friend that his family has already known for ages #thank u woof woof for seeing my vision hehehehe #june concepts!#yandere childe #cafe patron woof woof!

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mantissword · 5 years

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White Witch Yuuri and Human Disaster Victor 4

Woof. It’s earlier than usual but I’m exhausted tonight. But I’ve been having a lot of fun with this white witch au so we’re goin to go with that tonight. I was also thinking of opening up asks for headcanons for my headcanon days? We’ll see!

Anyways, have some drabbling!

Victor crashed into Yuuri’s life before Kastuki Kuriosities. That’s not a metaphor either. Yuuri ended up as a heap on the floor, arms full of nearly six feet of human perfection. He was so transfixed he didn’t hear the first six panicked paragraphs Victor had spewed in a matter of a few seconds.

“...and the shoot is in SIX HOURS!” Was the wail that brought Yuuri rudely back to reality.

“Um.” Was his intelligent response.

“Oh no!” Victor sobbed. “It’s useless isn’t it!”

“No no! I just, couldn’t understand you?” Yuuri explained. “Also your knee is in my ribs?” To be fair, it was a very nice knee.

Victor leapt to his feet, yanking Yuuri up as well. “I’m Victor ans I have a zit the size of Mother Russia herself and I’m going to lose my job if it’s not gone!”

Yuuri saw no such blemish in the mans face. Which would have been an ideal response. Instead he went with, “Are you some kind of model?”

Behind him Phichit choked on a laugh, frothed milk spilling across the coffee bar. Yuuri frowned at him.

“More or less,” Victor rushed. “I heard you’re the new resident witch in town and no other witch has agreed to help!”

Yuuri frowned. Unless Victor had found a way to upset every witch in a 4 mile radius, Yuuri couldn’t understand why anyone would refuse to help-

“Probably because it’s on my ass,” he added thoughtfully.

It was Yuuri’s turn to choke.

“Here let me show-“

“NO!” Yuuri shrieked.

“YES,” Phichit cheered.

With a glare over his shoulder, Yuuri grabbed Victors hand and pulled him to a corner of the cafe. “I can help you. But- stop trying to take off your pants!”

Victor poured but rebuckled his belt. “But it’s terrible and it’s a lingerie shoot!”

“I can give you a salve without having to see,” Yuuri rushed to explain. “Please don’t strip. This is a coffee shop?”

It seemed to dawn on Victor in that moment that they had the attention of every patron.

“Oh! Is the coffee your potions? Do the blueberry muffins make you float for hours? What about-“

“No it’s just a coffee shop! I’m a barista. And a witch. A coffee witch.”

“I’m a coffee bitch,” Victor supplies unhelpfully and winked. Yuuri didn’t know what to do with either of those things.

“Um-“

“But you can help me!” Victor exclaimed, grabbing both of Yuuri’s hands. “Will it work in less than 6 hours?”

“If you want it to work faster I’ll need a part of you to add to the salve,” Yuuri explained. He frowned as Victor paled but immediately offered his arm. Yuuri waved his hands frantically. “I meant like a strand of hair!”

“Oh.” Victor stared at his arm. “I’d prefer if you took blood.”

“I stay away from blood magic as much as possible,” Yuuri said firmly. “Just one strand.”

Victor whined petting his gorgeous silky head. “It’s already so thin!”

“It’s really not? Or I guess I can do a finger nail, but hair is dead skin and this is a skin blemish so-“

“Okay okay!” He sighed, screwing his eyes shut tightly. “Be quick!”

Yuuri balked, but went in his tip does. Victor flinched as Yuuri deftly yanked out a single strand. “Done.”

“Did you have to take such a thick strand?” Victor pouted, looking forlornly at the single strand.

Yuuri had no answer. “It’ll take me about a half hour. You can wait here if you like.” And he disappeared upstairs.

#yoi #yuri on ice #yuuri katsuki #yuri katsuki #victor nikiforov #viktor nikirofov #victuri #victuuri #white witch au #my aus

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mythcookierunocs · 5 years

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Puppucino Cookie

Rarity: Epic

Stamina: 290

Combi Pet: Espresso Treat

Combi Bonus: Cookie gains +10% speed whenever Blast Jelly effect is active.

Abilities: Cookie transforms into Caffeine-Crazed Shiba Inu at given intervals. When Cookie is transformed, grants Magnet Jelly Effect and Blast Jelly Effect, creates 6 Coffee Bean Paw Jellies whenever Cookie Jumps (+100,000 per Coffee Bean Paw Jelly)

Magic Candy: Cookie runs at -7.5% speed at the beginning of the run. All potions turn into Espresso Paw Jellies (Espresso Paw Jellies grant +60 Stamina to potions original value and +1.5% speed). When Cookie magnets 550 Jellies, creates Espresso Paw Jelly.

Espresso Treat: Creates Potions and Blast Jellies at given intervals (spaced out by 35 seconds respectively).

Story: A barista Cookie that was made full of love, and lots and lots of dough and espresso, this energetic (Shiba Inu) Puppucino Cookie is such a good boy! He loves serving up a cold brew or making lattes, as well as head scratches and receiving dog treats from the patrons at his Cafe.

Quote: “Bark Bark! (I hope they all like my specialty coffee!)”

Relationships:

[Admiration] Werewolf Cookie- “Woof! Bark! (I love seeing him come to my coffee shop, we always have great talks over coffee!”

[Tension] Coffee Cookie- “Bark...... (Always comes to my coffee shop..... every day..... the same thing....... so repetitive @_@).”

[Friendly] Pepper Moth Cookie- “Woof! (They’ve never had coffee before, but they said my brew was absolutely delicious!).”

A Cookie OC I’ve had for a while, they speak in American Sign Language and run their own cofffee shop in the Ovenbreak universe! Art done by @jackd-draws ! Pepper Moth Cookie is also another Cookie OC of mine that I’ll post soon!

Please do not tag as Kin/ID/Me, you will be blocked.

#cookie run #cookie run ovenbreak #cr ovenbreak #oc #cookie run oc #cookie oc

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amaloaf · 6 years

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Forget (Remember) ch. 4

Hey remember this? Apparently I did so here it is, only 6+ months late. Sorry for any inconsistencies, I kinda had to do an overhaul on some of the plot points, nothing major.

The new doctor in town, Doc, was kind enough. He picked out the glass in Sarge’s hand and bandaged it without saying more than three word to either of them. He made fast work of it and before either of them knew, one tetanus shot and and a wise sounding “be more careful next time” later, they were back on the street left to awkwardly walk home.

Sarge couldn't even pretend to look at Fillmore. He just clenched his fists until his bandaged hand stung to distract himself as he stormed back to his store. Fillmore spoke to his back.

“So we're not even gonna talk about this?” Sarge could hear the uneven sound of Fillmore’s wheelchair moving over the rugged terrain. If he were a better man he would go back and at least have the decency to push his partner back to his hut. However, he was just too angry to give a damn about anything regarding Fillmore so he made the show of loudly stomping his feet back to the surplus garage. At least Fillmore was kind enough not to call after him.

Doug “Mater” Keever was waiting inside the door when he went inside. He had some idea of why he was here, so Sarge brushed past him in favor of helping an old woman who was looking at some of the various scrap he kept in the back of the store. She soon left with a sturdy copper pipe, though, and Sarge was forced to acknowledge the other man's presence.

“Doug.” He nodded in his direction.

“Sarge.” Doug seemed to consider him for a moment before deciding to continue. “I hear y’alls havin’ relationship issues.” He stated bluntly. Sarge glared at him from over a display table, he had never had and issue with Mater or his family (in fact they were currently the only outed gay couple in the town who had yet to be stricken by misfortune, which Sarge took some comfort in), but that didn't mean there wasn't any reason to start. Especially if they wanted to start sticking their grimy noses were they didn't belong. Mater put his hands up in defense, though his cheeky smile certainly didn't go unnoticed, “Now, now I di’nt mean nuthin’ by it ya know me Sarge. But I can't safely say I hadn’t been in your shoes before and thought yous could use a helpin’ hand in all that drama.”

“I haven't a clue about what in God’s name your talking about.”, he lied. Maybe, if Sarge was lucky, he could maybe not have the entire town find out about what goes on his bedroom before the day ends. “In case you haven't noticed I'm just a simple man living a single, bachelor life in a up-and-coming pitstop town. I'm not exactly the settling down type.” Another lie. “Besides, even if I was having issues, which I'm not, why would you be any help, I mean it's not like we have anything… in common.” Even Sarge couldn't deny how full of shit he sounded. Mater just chuckled, a deep but warm sound that came from the chest, and looked at Sarge with a mix of amusement and pity.

“Y'know Sarge, denial’s a big ol’ parta the comin’ out process. I won't deny I spent years fightin’ myself at e’ry turn ‘cause I felt I hadda be sumn’ I wasn't.” Sarge stiffened at his words, his shoulders pulling back and his spine going rigid. “I'm jus’ tellin’ ya, it doesn't havta be that way for ya. Radiator Springs is safe, ain't nobody gon’ be able to touch ya here, you can jus’.. be yerself.” Mater said as he watched Sarge, hoping for some sort of recognition or even just a show that he was listening.

Sarge expertly kept his eyes trained on the wall. He kept his arms crossed, voice dangerously low and whispered, “Get the fuck out of my shop before you regret making assumptions that you know a damned thing about me.”

Mater sighed. “Aight, then. Have a good resta ya day, Sarge.” Mater began to walk out but paused in the doorway, “Woulda at leas’ think bout what I-” he was cut up by Sarge slamming the door behind him and removed the sign on the window that said “Open” to “Out to Lunch”. He watched Mater regard the sign before walking off his property, slight disappointment clear in his posture.

‘Good. Serves him right for trying to breach my privacy.’ Sarge thought. He finally felt like he had a second to breath, like he had been holding his breath since the tattoo parlor. He realized he hadn't even gotten dressed this morning and was still just in his sweatpants and jacket. His watch told him it was almost 12:30. Lunch break shower it is.

….

A shower really did do wonders on him. He finally looked halfway respectable, his hair combed and his oddly colored skin at least clean. Fresh clothes and he was practically a new man. No other residents came to the shop for the rest of the business day, so he could rest easy helping customers and negotiating prices. He even caught a shoplifter, a sniveling teen with greasy hair growing past his collar that had tried to shove some blank dog tags into his pocket. He felt a small sense of pride handing the boys apologetic parents a pamphlet for a correctional military camp and watching the kids face twist in horror.

A small part of his brain told him Fillmore would be disappointed, and that he should of been more forgiving. He pushed those thoughts away, after all he had a business to run.

It wasn't until he closed up for the night that he was suddenly aware of how hungry he was, and how empty his kitchen was of any nutritional substance. ‘Normally I eat at Fillmore’s’ he thought miserably as he closed another cabinet after no food had materialized between the last five minutes he had checked. ‘‘Flo’s can't be THAT busy. I'll just get something to go.’’

He was right in a sense; Flo’s cafe was having a fairly slow night, it was just housing everyone Sarge was trying to avoid. Ramone sat on a barstool, trying to start a conversation with the new doctor. The town sheriff was having a malt on the doctors other side, and Doc seemed to be warming up to him much better. Mater sat with his husband, Carlo, and their kid Toby, (who they just called “Tow” since the poor kids lisp made it hard to pronounce his own name and they just couldn't resist the pun to their profession) at an outside table. Tow was talking loudly about some sort of lizard he had seen and was spraying food whenever he talked. Scattered townsfolk and shopkeepers lounged around, relaxing after another busy workday. The worst of it though, was Fillmore sat in his and Sarge's normal table, forlornly picking through a salad. It was enough to make Sarge up and leave, but before he could try and slip away Flo called from the doorway, making everyone in the restaurant look his way.

“Hey there General! The usual?” She shouted, and by the coy grin on her face, Sarge just knew she and Ramone had planned something. He faked a half smile and shouted back, “Yes, if you don't mind!”, before stomping up to sit at the bar next to Ramone.

Doc took notice of the new patron and leaned over, “How's your hand doin’, Sargent?” Sheriff immediately noticed Sarge's hand, which had begun to show stains of blood through the bandaging.

“Woof, how'd you get that, Sarge?”, he asked, voice laced with trace amounts of concern through his malt.

“Grabbed a figurine too rough and it shattered in my hand. It's doing much better though Doctor, thanks.” Sarge replied. “I'll change the bandaging again tonight, I think.”, he added quickly before the doctor could lecture him on taking care of his wound.

“Good. Make sure to disinfect it as well.” He said before adding, “Oh, and you can just call me Doc, no need to be so formal.”

“Just Doc, huh?” Ramone said as Flo placed a hearty red stew with a glass of water in front of Sarge and sliding a ham sandwich to Doc. “Does that come with a story?” Ramone added with a grin, “or do we have to crack your cold facade first?”

“Maybe my origins will be revealed in due time.” Doc said evenly as he took a sandwich half in his hands. “But for now let’s enjoy the lovely food that's been placed before us.”

‘Amen’ Sarge thought. He could feel Fillmore's eye glancing over his back and he wanted to be gone as soon as physically possible. Just when he began to gulp down his last few spoonfuls he felt a large, warm, familiar hand on his back. He turned his head just enough to regard Fillmore but made no effort to make conversation. Ramone and Doc both glanced at them, smugly and curiously, respectively, before politely turning away. Sheriff, never one for social graces, made no such niceties, watching them over Doc’s shoulder.

“Ge- Sarge, do you think we could talk now?” Fillmore asked, his voice gentle.

Sarge thought about it for a moment before answering, “No. I don't think I'm ready yet.” It wasn't a complete lie, but just enough of one to make him feel bad all the same for not working through these relationship issues. “Just… give me time.” Fillmore removed his hand and began to turn the wheelchair around and leave the room.

Sarge couldn't stand watching him go. Even his hand being removed from Sarge's back made his heart ache.

#cars movie #pixar cars #my stuff #my fic #fillmore #sarge #sargemore #idk how to even tag this shit its been so long #forget (remember)

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michaelfallcon · 6 years

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Adult Cafe Not What It Sounds Like

Kids are the worst, am I right? Sure, my almost-two-year-old daughter is the light of my life, each day bringing me a new but exhausting joy, and I love her more than anything else in this world (myself included, a turn of events that even I didn’t see coming), but woof. Well, one new cafe in Ireland has put the kibosh on the kiddos; The Old Barracks Coffee Roastery and Coffeebar in Birdhill has a strict adults-only policy.

Opened in July, The Old Barracks is “the destination for coffee curious adults,” per their website. This means no kids, though the exact age limit does not appear to be posted anywhere online. I know a lot of 20- and 30-year-olds who are very much still children, but I imagine they meet the baseline criteria for entry. According to a press release, owner Alan Andrews’ idea is to “filter out the noise of children” in order for adult-aged patrons to enjoy the “relaxed atmosphere… and the engagement from the baristas on all things coffee.”

“People are just enjoying the space and enjoying their coffee in peace, without distraction from their kids – or other people’s kids. We’re really happy with the response,” Andrews states. And statistics seems to back up that sentiment. TheJournal.ie polled 11,000 people, with a whopping 74% saying they would take advantage of an adults-only cafe like The Old Barracks.

As the press release notes, there have been some negative reviews, calling the experience “pretentious” and “overpriced.” Some have even taken to Facebook and TripAdvisor to express their disappointment with being turned away at the door when they arrived with their children, presumably unaware of the quirky rule.

But the overall public seems to be taking to The Old Barracks, with ratings of 3.7 and 4.0 out of five on Facebook and TripAdvisor, respectively. For a better idea of what The Old Barracks is about (beyond just being kid-free), check out this 25-minute video of The Old Barracks’ Marketing Executive Rachel Leahy interviewing Andrews.

The real question remains: will The Old Barracks serve me, an ostensible adult, a babyccino? What about a babycano for when I’m already feeling a little foamy and bloaty and don’t need the extra milk? My ability to get either of these drastically affects my attendance. And whether or not the babysitter is available.

Zac Cadwalader is the news editor at Sprudge Media Network and a staff writer based in Dallas. Read more Zac Cadwalader on Sprudge.

Top image via The Old Barracks Coffee Roastery and Coffeebar

The post Adult Cafe Not What It Sounds Like appeared first on Sprudge.

Adult Cafe Not What It Sounds Like published first on https://medium.com/@LinLinCoffee

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epchapman89 · 6 years

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Adult Cafe Not What It Sounds Like

Zac Cadwalader is the news editor at Sprudge Media Network and a staff writer based in Dallas. Read more Zac Cadwalader on Sprudge.

Top image via The Old Barracks Coffee Roastery and Coffeebar

The post Adult Cafe Not What It Sounds Like appeared first on Sprudge.

seen 1st on http://sprudge.com

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mrwilliamcharley · 6 years

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Adult Cafe Not What It Sounds Like

Zac Cadwalader is the news editor at Sprudge Media Network and a staff writer based in Dallas. Read more Zac Cadwalader on Sprudge.

Top image via The Old Barracks Coffee Roastery and Coffeebar

The post Adult Cafe Not What It Sounds Like appeared first on Sprudge.

from Sprudge https://ift.tt/2OCVJnt

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blogtrotter-blog1 · 6 years

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Un dimanche au coin du feu

[dimanche 23 juillet]

Ca y est, je prends enfin le temps d’écrire ! Moi qui m’étais promis de tenir le blog à jour, c’est bien raté jusqu’à présent. Mais bon, nous sommes restés longtemps au même endroit, nous ne savions pas trop quoi vous raconter. A part des anecdotes sur les amendes absolument excessives des policiers (vu sur Facebook : 645$ pour avoir fait pipi dans un parc ou 250$ pour rouler avec un bras qui passe par la fenêtre de sa voiture) ou que la télévision australienne est lamentable (pour 6 minutes de film, 4 minutes de pubs, c’est à devenir fou !), nous n’avions pas grande chose de nouveau à raconter. Mais la situation a depuis lors évolué…

Première grande nouvelle : nous avons finalement quitté le ranch ! Il y a déjà deux semaines de cela. J’annonce ça sur un ton enjoué, mais en fait ce ne fut pas facile. En trois mois, c’est fou ce qu’on peut prendre ses aises dans un nouvel endroit et surtout s’attacher à ceux qui y vivent. Ces derniers vont particulièrement nous manquer, en un si court laps de temps nous y avons noué de belles amitiés. Il est de ces rencontres qui vous marquent pour le restant de vos jours, tant nous avons été surpris par les qualités de ces êtres : gentillesse, générosité, bonne humeur, etc. Toujours à remuer la queue ou à hennir lorsque l’on s’approche d’eux…

Sinon, les humains étaient sympas aussi ! Jody, la propriétaire du ranch, va terriblement nous manquer. Nous passions une bonne partie de nos journées avec elle, et elle a toujours fait preuve de beaucoup de bienveillance et de gentillesse à notre égard. Même lorsque nous comprenions de travers ses instructions à cause de la barrière de la langue à nos débuts, lorsque nous fermions mal une grille et qu’un cheval se faisait une petite virée nocturne en liberté dans le domaine ou encore lorsque nous noyions les étables en oubliant de couper l’eau… ! Elle nous a également aidés dans nos démarches administratives et a tenté tant qu’elle a pu de nous mettre en contact avec des employeurs potentiels.

Ce fut donc avec la larme au cœur (celle-ci est dédicacée à Maggy, Tomtom, Jami, et tous les autres poètes incompris de notre entourage !) que nous avons dit au revoir à nos amis humains et animaux. En sachant au fond de nous que la probabilité de les revoir est proche de zéro. Au moment de les quitter, l’un de nous ne fut d’ailleurs pas capable de contenir ses larmes, mais je ne dirai pas de qui il s’agit (il y va de ma virilité… Ou de ce qu’il en reste, désormais !). Voici donc une première page qui se tourne dans notre expérience en Australie. L’idée était de rester un mois dans ce ranch, ce fut finalement trois mois. Même si ce n’est pas toujours simple, nous apprenons à faire avec le fait que les choses ne se passent jamais comme prévu dans ce genre de voyage.

Nous avons donc quitté Narrogin le lundi 10 juillet, direction Perth, avec l’intention de nous offrir une semaine de vacances en amoureux après trois mois de travail. Nous sommes retournés dans l’auberge de jeunesse dans laquelle nous avons séjourné lors de notre toute première semaine sur le sol australien début avril. C’était vraiment sympa de revoir des têtes connues : ce con de Japonais, cet imbécile de Suédois, ce connard d’Ecossais et tous les autres ! Les voyages, ça force le respect et la tolérance entre les peuples, c’est quelque chose de vraiment beau.

Nous en avons profité pour découvrir de nouveaux coins dans Perth, notamment Northbridge, un quartier assez festif et sympa que nous avions raté la première fois. Ainsi que le « Belgian Beer Cafe » ! Après plusieurs mois à boire la pisse australienne qu’ils ont le culot d’appeler « bière », nous avions hâte de goûter à nouveau au breuvage houblonné béni des Dieux. Mais la joie que nous avons éprouvée en lisant les noms des bières sur la carte n’a d’égale que la déception liée à la découverte des prix... Voyager permet réellement de relativiser. J’ai toujours trouvé excessivement élevé le prix des bières belges à Rouen : payer une spéciale environ 7€ n’étant pas vraiment dans mes habitudes. Ici à Perth, les prix oscillent entre 10 et 15€ (pour une 33 cl)… Marion était heureuse de payer 3,50€ pour une Triple Karmeliet à Namur au lieu des 6 ou 7€ habituels à Rouen. Ici, elle est à 13€ (c’est encore pire en dollars australiens : 18$ !).

Cette semaine de vacances fut aussi l’occasion pour nous de nous organiser quelque peu pour le futur à court terme, la situation n’étant pas des plus simples. Nous nous sommes mis en contact avec une famille à Fremantle (ville au bord de l’océan située à 15 km de Perth) en vue d’une position « au pair ». C’est-à-dire s’occuper des enfants deux ou trois heures par jour en échange du gîte et du couvert : un peu le même principe que le woofing au ranch finalement. Et puis le boulot est sensiblement le même : entre ramasser les crottes des chevaux et torcher des marmots, la frontière est mince… ! Nous avons donc rencontré la maman, Tory, et ses trois enfants, Imogen (10 ans), Bailey (8 ans) et Abbey (5 ans). Nous avons passé une heure tous ensemble et tout s’étant parfaitement bien passé, nous nous sommes engagés, heureux de découvrir un nouvel environnement. Et, surtout, heureux d’avoir plus d’opportunités pour dégoter un emploi. Fremantle étant une ville de plusieurs dizaines de milliers d’habitants (en fait je n’ai pas la moindre idée du nombre d’habitants, mais ce que je peux affirmer avec certitude c’est que c’est plus grand qu’Assesse !), il y sera surement plus aisé de trouver un boulot que dans les petites villes du bush. Nous nous y sommes donc installés le week-end dernier.

Ce fut néanmoins de très courte durée pour moi, je n’y suis resté que deux jours. Pour que vous compreniez bien, je dois faire un petit saut dans le passé et préciser que j’ai eu l’occasion de travailler durant une semaine, en juin, dans une pépinière (une vraie cette fois-ci, pas comme celle de Narrogin qui fait des terrasses et qui possède une boutique de cadeaux-souvenirs !). La pépinière se situant à Tincurrin, un village paumé à 70 km de Narrogin, les propriétaires m’avaient proposé de dormir dans une maison qu’ils possèdent 2 km plus loin. Je devais aussi amener ma nourriture pour la semaine car, à Tincurrin, il n’y a pas de magasin. Le supermarché le plus proche se trouvant à… Narrogin !

Ils m’ont donc contacté pour y retravailler deux semaines (les deux dernières de juillet, j’y suis donc en ce moment). Sauf que, pour m’y rendre, en juin, je disposais d’une voiture prêtée par Jody et je n’avais que 70 km de route de Narrogin à Tincurrin. Cette fois-ci, ce fut un tantinet plus compliqué : je partais de Fremantle, c’est-à-dire à environ 300 km de là, et je n’avais plus de voiture ! J’ai donc du prendre deux trains (+- 1h) et un bus (+- 4h) pour atteindre Narrogin. Là, Keith et Kerry (mes patrons, qu’il est impossible de considérer comme tel tant ils sont sympas) sont venus me chercher en voiture pour faire les derniers 70 km jusqu’à Tincurrin. Le tout avec mon sac à dos avec toutes mes affaires ainsi qu’une énorme valise pleine de bouffe… Inutile de préciser que j’ai été heureux de me coucher le soir venu.

Première anecdote, je n’avais pas bien compris la nature du travail quand j’ai postulé ! Je pensais faire bucheron car, dans l’annonce, il était question de « tracteurs », « arbres » et « camions » et d’un endroit isolé : je pensais donc aider à charger des immenses troncs d’arbres sur des camions tout aussi immenses… J’avais bien compris l’idée du chargement, mais il n’était par contre pas question d’immenses troncs, mais d’arbustes de 20-30 cm de haut :)

Le boulot est en soi assez basique : avec Marianne, ma collègue, on s’occupe de préparer les commandes et de charger le camion pour que Keith puisse effectuer les livraisons. Une livraison pouvant aller jusqu’à 50.000 arbres… Alors bien qu’ils ne fassent que 20-30 cm de haut, c’est un travail terriblement physique ! Les arbres sont disposés par cent sur des treillis en plastique, devant peser 5 ou 6 kilos chacun. Quand tu portes 1500 treillis sur ta journée (ce fut le cas il y a quelques jours), tu te sens vivre : je me réveille chaque matin avec les avant-bras en feu ! Mais bon je m’entends super bien avec eux, ça compense donc largement.

Le seul truc qui en réalité m’inquiétait un peu pour ces quinze jours était ce week-end : seul durant deux jours complets dans un village comptant une rue, 5 ou 6 maisons et autant de fermes aux alentours, la perspective n’était pas réjouissante. D’autant que je n’ai ni voiture, ni connexion internet et que la météo annoncée était mauvaise (froid et pluie). Les propriétaires ont bien prévu quelques distractions dans la maison, mais bon : des livres et… Des puzzles ! Un soir durant ma semaine fin juin, par dépit, j’en ai tenté un de 1000 pièces (le plus petit que j’ai trouvé) : j’ai eu envie de mettre le feu aux 983 pièces que je n’ai pas réussi à placer :)

Bon finalement il s’avère que le week-end est plutôt chouette ! J’ai passé le samedi avec ma collègue Marianne (qui a probablement senti que j’allais m’emmerder sec en étant coincé chez moi). Direction Narrogin au matin pour aller faire les courses pour la semaine qui arrive : 140 km aller-retour pour faire ses courses, ça se passe de commentaires. Dans la foulée, nous sommes allés saluer nos patrons Keith et Kerry qui nous avaient invités à venir assister à une activité spéciale qu’ils font une fois par an avec les autres fermiers du coin… Faire du saucisson ! Une pensée toute particulière pour tous nos amis végétariens. Je n’étais pas spécialement heureux de découvrir les carcasses de cochons pendues par les pieds, mais au moins on a raté leur exécution. Après, nous sommes allés faire une petite randonnée de 2h, le temps étant finalement plus clément que prévu. Enfin, avant une petite bière dans le seul pub à 50 bornes à la ronde, dans un village encore plus petit que Tincurrin, nous sommes allés dire bonjour à une amie de Marianne qui possède un petit élevage de kangourous. J’y ai vu pour la première fois une maman kangourou avec un petiot dans sa poche ! C’est mignon et rigolo mais en fait ça a l’air plutôt inconfortable tant pour l’un que pour l’autre : à un moment la tête du petit sortait de la poche, ainsi qu’une de ses pattes arrière… Va comprendre dans quelle position il était là-dedans. Apparemment pour rentrer dans la poche lorsqu’ils sont en dehors, ils rentrent la tête la première et puis, une fois à l’intérieur, font une pirouette pour se remettre dans le bon sens… Drôles de bestioles !

Et en ce dimanche, entre quelques corvées ménagères, une promenade entre les gouttes et la rediffusion du chrono du Tour de France, je rédige cet article tranquillement au coin du feu avec une couverture sur les genoux ! On est au beau milieu de l’hiver ici… En fait l’hiver australien n’est pas si froid que ça en comparaison avec nos hivers. Dans cette région, la température ne descend jamais sous 0 degré, même la nuit en plein milieu de l’hiver. Aujourd’hui par exemple ça oscille entre 5 et 10 degrés. Le problème étant que, quand le feu est éteint, la température est la même dans la maison que dehors car rien n’est isolé ! Il y a des ouvertures partout, je peux par exemple passer mes doigts sous la porte de derrière, entre la porte et le sol donc (ce n’est pas une façon de parler, j’y arrive réellement !), et le double vitrage ainsi que les radiateurs n’existent pas. A côté de ça, mercredi, on a une journée de grand soleil, ciel bleu et 18 degrés : j’ai chopé mon premier coup de soleil hivernal !

Je découvre donc la vie loin de tout. Quand je pense que, la première fois que nous y avons mis les pieds, Narrogin nous semblait être le bout du monde. Je réalise désormais que ce n’en était que l’antichambre ! Narrogin est en réalité une des plus grosses villes de la région (difficile à croire la première fois qu’on s’y promène). Tincurrin, là on est vraiment dans le bush. Le village se situe à l’est de Narrogin, c’est-à-dire encore plus dans les terres. Je pense qu’il n’existe plus rien au-delà de ce village (à part, environ 3000 km plus loin, l’autre côte australienne…). Bon je pousse le bouchon un peu trop loin (hein Maurice !), mais c’est vraiment dingue de vivre ici. D’autant qu’en ce moment, Marion est donc à Fremantle, la grande ville ! Nos modes de vie sont diamétralement opposés ces deux semaines-ci. J’ai hâte de la retrouver, mais je pense que l’endroit ainsi que le style de vie vont me manquer malgré tout. C’est paisible, c’est simple, c’est beau. On y fait des randonnées et des puzzles. Les habitants arrêtent leur voiture au beau milieu de la (seule) route quand ils passent à ta hauteur lorsque tu te promènes et viennent discuter 5 minutes avec toi, pour savoir d’où tu viens et te souhaiter la bienvenue dans la région (véridique !). Néanmoins ça me plait car je sais que je n’y suis que pour deux semaines, je ne sais pas si la perspective d’y passer le reste de ma vie m’enchanterait autant… !

Voilà, je vais tout doucement terminer cet article. Il est presque 18h, j’ai commencé à écrire ce matin vers 10h30 – 11h… Lorsque l’on est Namurois et petit-fils de Paul Gosset, la vitesse n’est pas la qualité première :)

On fera en sorte de ne pas trop tarder pour partager un nouvel article et vous raconter un peu la vie au bord de l’océan.

On pense fort à vous tous. Comme on dit chez nous du côté de Ciney : on a le temps long après vous :)

Guillaume

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