Perhaps the winds are blowing from a different direction to when we first arrived and I remarked how un-intrusive the busy rail was to us here in the showgrounds. Nowadays it seems noisy and particularly inconsiderate early in the morning when I would prefer to sleep beyond daybreak. Serve me right for tempting fate!
Tuesday here, as I think it is New
Zealand, is Discount Day at the cinemas, although when I was working I did not
have occasion to take advantage of such little pleasures. This week we toddled
along to “Saving Mr Banks”, the
fourth new release seen over the holiday period; such indulgence! Interestingly
I had read about Helen Lyndon Goff in one of the many books I have been
devouring of late and taken an avid interest of the movie’s reviews as a
result. So I went with preconceptions, unlike my husband who was dragged along
under sufferance. “Mary Poppins”? “Walt Disney”? What was this all about?
Thankfully, he had to agree that not only was it so much better than expectations;
he enjoyed it immensely. So there is another recommendation to the reader, if
you are a movie-goer like we are when we happen to be in the right place at the
right time.
It was Tuesday too that we did some
serious homework on storage for the rig, abandoning hope of any reasonable sale
transaction. I had spent a restless night struggling with packing up, in my
dreams and half-dream state, and felt sick about the whole unresolved state of
affairs.
But then just to keep all options open,
we re-posted our For Sale
advertisement, dropping the price, and promptly received a call, which resulted
in a viewing yesterday morning. Mike and Jean looked the caravan over, but not
as diligently or as enthusiastically as Robert and Jacky had when they
travelled up to Ipswich from the Gold Coast about a month ago. We were left
wondering if they were keen or not, and kept on with the correspondence with
the various storage businesses in the picture. Unlike Robert and his wife who
followed up with a delightful email, Mike and Jean have remained silent, but
then perhaps, just perhaps, they are chewing it all over.
And then this morning over breakfast we
decided to drive down to Morayfield and book our flight home, and so we did.
Now we have a date, a little over three weeks out, with time for miracles to occur
in the interim. We have paid for a third week here at the showgrounds, as much
as you are allowed, however I suspect some of our fellow campers have been swung
some leniency; the grass has grown long under their caravans. After that we
will head north to call in on some folk offering storage, those who have accommodated
a rig like ours belonging to Pauline and Neil. We still have Keith at Lowood up
our sleeve if we are unimpressed, and there are great lengths of the Brisbane
Valley Rail Trail un-walked. So our days here in Australia may be numbered but
they are still an open book in some regard.
In the meantime, the tennis continues
in Melbourne, in 41 degree heat, with spectators and players dropping like
flies. Tomorrow there is to be little reprieve although I see the temperature
is to be almost twenty degrees lower the following day; an extreme change. Of course
in the northern hemisphere folk in the States and across the globe at similar
latitudes have been struggling with 46 degrees below, and down in the
Antarctic, icebreakers lie trapped in ice thicker than they have experienced before.
This global warming is indeed an wonder!
I am continuing to enjoy the wonderful
birdlife here at our camp; we are becoming quite familiar with Caboolture, and
the busy life that goes on around us here, including the pistol club; thanks to
my reader who enlightened me about this. The flying foxes are safe after all!
In fact today has been an excellent day
so far; the temperatures remain below 30 degrees, our return flight is
organised and most surprisingly, our vehicle registration labels have arrived
at the post office, as organised by yours truly. This is always a small miracle
when dealing with bureaucrats and the changing of official details here in
Australia. We should be celebrating with a bottle of wine but instead will settle
for a cup of tea; just the thing for a hot day.
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