...so the storey goes along these lines...the town where we live was founded in the mid 19th century ...gold was the thing...a town grew and a bootmaker came to town. He started a little shop and bought himself an anvil in 1860. That anvil got passed on through a few generations and then arrived at a property on which i reside now...about half a mile from where the bootmaker had his shop....the man who owned that property sat that anvil in the yard and there it sat for years...a bloke who still lives in this town worked for the anvil owner for some time and asked that his payment be the anvil....the anvil owner said if you can carry it to your car we are square....he picked it up and carried it half way....about ten years later he did some more work for the anvil owner and when asked how much he was owed he simply said "the anvil". except this time he parked much closer and he took it home.
this man...is one of those men that you know has the power of god and the devil within...can make anything with steel, and wood, and lives life in the australian way in the bush, barefoot and with the smarts of only a man like he could have...yesterday he brought the anvil to me and picked it up out of the back of his ute and like the man he is put it on the spot i had reserved for an anvil for the last 4 years....
the anvil came home and sometimes i cant help but feel like i am just a very small man in this world.
