Today was Easter. For Steve Plunkett, it meant it was time for Steve’s Easter meat-fest. He has a great old house just outside of Traralgon. It is actually newer than it looks. He and his wife, Merl, remodeled it in the "federation" style. Federation being roughly one hundred years ago and the name of the era when Australia became a nation, and not a English colony. Steve has a pool, a fat pony in a paddock out back, three excitable dogs, a claw foot tub, and crown molding. I am insanely jealous. There were heaps of family, and the house buzzed of the fixing of food and excessive relaxation. After much motivation, Steve got Guns, and his brother, Tom, and I to jump in the pool which, despite the warm day, just seemed like a lot of effort; but once in, it was the right kind of refreshing. The dogs and the kids and the man children (Guns, myself and Tom) played while the adults had wine and ate. Exhausted with the effort, it was time for cake, and as it was also Merl’s mother’s birthday, we had two. I regretted leaving so soon, but it was time to head on the road and got back to my bike in Sale.
I realized today that Mt. Hotham and the bucks party were five days away, and I could afford to lounge one more day at the Stone’s. I relaxed and caught up on considerable emails. Dan, Amelia and I dined on the back deck and watched the thunderclouds in the mountains. I thought ominously about what this meant for me as I knew those very mountains were my next few days’ destination. I really was in no mood for constant rain. We took in a movie that night – “Run Fatboy, Run.” It was ok, but I just like the act of going to the movies.