Going Bush
Jan. 31st, 2006 09:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stuntie_jedHoward released everyone except Karl who has to do his pretend fighting the alien out there in the fjords against the green screens. Some of the crew are still there finishing, too. Mark took off to look for some wine, but I nicked away home as soon as I could. Going bush though, like I told Mark. He seemed to think it’s right cracker idea. Funny bloke, weird one, but he’s got a good heart.
I get Sid from the place where I board him, and rent a horse caravan, heading out for Mt. Taranaki. I have a moment’s worry when I think about a blackout hitting me when I’m off on my own, so I leave a message for Pete telling him where I’m going, but knowing damn well that’s he’s off pressing flesh for the awards season. So I’ve got insurance, but not a chocka.
What I’m hoping is this little trip to the wop-wops will get the fuck rid of my stress, and I’m really hoping that stress is making me crook and giving me those time slips. If not . . . I sigh. I guess I’ll call a doc when I get back.
I’m humming along to the radio as I drive up the coast. Fucking gorgeous day, and I’m looking forward to some time on my own. Taranaki looms into sight and I stop at the ranger station and buy a pass for three days for a horseback site. I park and get Sid unloaded and settled. We head out for the trails almost immediately and it’s so fucking tempting to disappear into the wilderness, leave my shit behind.
The darkness stirred but saw nothing of interest in the trees and rocks, and thus slept again.
Sid snorts and shies a bit, and I look around, but don’t see anything. He probably got spooked by a leaf or something. Big sook.
I get Sid from the place where I board him, and rent a horse caravan, heading out for Mt. Taranaki. I have a moment’s worry when I think about a blackout hitting me when I’m off on my own, so I leave a message for Pete telling him where I’m going, but knowing damn well that’s he’s off pressing flesh for the awards season. So I’ve got insurance, but not a chocka.
What I’m hoping is this little trip to the wop-wops will get the fuck rid of my stress, and I’m really hoping that stress is making me crook and giving me those time slips. If not . . . I sigh. I guess I’ll call a doc when I get back.
I’m humming along to the radio as I drive up the coast. Fucking gorgeous day, and I’m looking forward to some time on my own. Taranaki looms into sight and I stop at the ranger station and buy a pass for three days for a horseback site. I park and get Sid unloaded and settled. We head out for the trails almost immediately and it’s so fucking tempting to disappear into the wilderness, leave my shit behind.
The darkness stirred but saw nothing of interest in the trees and rocks, and thus slept again.
Sid snorts and shies a bit, and I look around, but don’t see anything. He probably got spooked by a leaf or something. Big sook.
