Last week the folk in the west, and then the south, of the country endured record breaking heat waves; this week it arrived here, albeit a little diluted. Temperatures have climbed from 34 to 36 degrees and we have spent much of our down time holed up in the caravan, air-conditioner pumping away, the profit margin for the show-grounds shrinking daily as we all did the same.
We had caught up with my parents and both boys on
Sunday night, after having consumed too much wine, which is never very clever,
however a catch up is a catch up and always very welcome, for me anyway.
On Wednesday, after much discussion and debate, we
ordered just the one solar panel charging unit from Solar Panel Xpress,
deciding to settle for outside storage after all and hope that the hail in 2014
would stay away from wherever we settle the rig into storage; Pollyanna
thinking perhaps, but better for the struggling bank account.
That night we received a telephone call from a young
woman named Jess who was interested
to check out the rig for her parents. She asked sensible questions and when
learned that we were moving out on Friday morning, asked if they could call and
see us after work.
It was also Wednesday when we learned that Longreach
and Barcaldine had been drought declared, added to the growing number of rural
centres struggling with almost a year’s absence of rain. This brings the total
for Queensland to 65% of the land mass as being drought declared, as of now; the
State Government are to hand out a $20 million assistance package. The
announcement was made on a station which had been host to the same event and
same response less than ten years ago. While I personally am not in favour of
hand-outs to failing manufacturing industries such as those suggested for
Holden, Ford and Ardmona SPC, you have to ask yourself how this differs from a
hand out to the “poor farmers”? And while one might say the latter has arisen
from “an act of God” and the former to human mis-management, a signal that the
company should be allowed to fail, should one also suggest that it was better
the land be abandoned to the whims of the weather and wild ones who were out
there before farmers attempted their control. Life is full of complexities and
I obviously have far too much time on my hands to consider and wonder such
matters.
On Thursday morning, after a walk up into the town
in the stinking heat, we picked up the solar panel, morally obliged to do so
even if it might well turn out to be superfluous to our requirements.
The afternoon was spent flicking between the Santos
Tour Down Under, the cycling race being played out in the lovely rural areas
around Adelaide, now familiar to us, and yet another surprise turn up for the
books at the Australian Open. The night before we had watched as four time
champion Novak Djokovic was knocked out of the tournament by Stan Wawrinka. “Who?”
you ask, as I did. The big names were
dropping like flies and the fresh youth like Canadian Eugenie Bouchard who
dreams of dating that silly little baby boy singer. “Who?” you ask, and well
you might.
Came the evening and the arrival of Jess, with her
mother and uncle, the latter armed with a bottle of beer. There are certain
things in life that inflame me, turn the looney-switch, or whatever you might
call it, and callers armed with their own half eaten or drunk refreshments in
hand are one of them. Uncle was off to a bad start; the whole visit was off to
a bad start. But surprise, surprise, by the time they left, the deal was
virtually done, all but for a call to Jess’s father away working on mining infrastructure.
I was gobsmacked and could not believe that they had made up their mind so
quickly; obviously our price drop had been too extreme. I should add here that
we are speaking only of a caravan sale; they were not interested in our sturdy
workhorse Toyota.
Of course, nothing was absolutely settled and we
should have dismissed the whole affair, at least until confirmation arrived,
but conversation all evening turned back to the impending sale and all that involved.
Sleep was disturbed, not by the sticky heat, or the noisy thunder storms all
around the region, but by the compilation of lists in my head. In fact we were
both awake early this morning, unable to sleep and so gave up trying to and sat
over an early breakfast, still discussing the “what ifs”.
Jess was on the ball too, her call coming through to
us while we were still sitting over our coffee; “Mum” had spoken with “Dad”,
and they wanted to go ahead with the purchase. They would get back to us again
later in the morning after “Mum” had been to the bank. And so they did.
So needless to say, our previous plans, not Plan A
or B but that which has been formulated more recently, to store the rig for
future use, look like being scrapped, every one of them! On the strength of
this “gentlemen’s agreement”, we dropped off our Nullabor gold clubs and a
couple of other bits rattling around in the rear of the landcruiser, at the
local Lifeline charity shop, the first of many visits there will be before we
fly out in just over two weeks’ time.
This morning, we indicated to young Jess who seems
to be the main-controller in all this, that we would be somewhere on the
Sunshine Coast tomorrow so that agreements can be formalised. Alas, I have been
unable to find any vacancies; Australia Day falls on Sunday, the following day
the public holiday and every man and his dog are making the most of the last
long weekend of the high summer. Thankfully I have managed to secure a site at
Yandina, a camp we were last at in about July 2012.
The landcruiser has been listed for sale, our
appointment with the storage people further north cancelled and the first of
many lists made. We have crazy times ahead!
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