Meekatharra, land of contrast...what a day. It would take hours to write up every ridiculous mad thing that happened even before lunch time, but here are some highlights:
Tania and Barry's evil horrible miserable kid Jandamurra destroyed their entire house last night. Every single window is smashed, and he's used big rocks to smash huge holes in the outside walls - it looks like it's been under mortar fire. I stopped to pick up Tania as she was walking back from the hospital and got the story from her, then drove by to see for myself. I think it was also him that was trying to smash up everyone's back fences last night, including mine - the noise was unbelievable. I called the police, who were there in seconds; we weren't sure if it was Jandamurra or the drunk violent fighting Abbott family across the lane, who were also having a gay old time smashing things. Anyway, things settled down after the cops gave everyone a warning.
I spent pretty much the whole day in the aged care van, ferrying people around, helping with shopping, going to the bank for our clients, all of which was riddled with confusion, miscommunication, "Where Pam" type conversations, neighbours shouting helpful directions from sheds across the road, dogs trying to get in the van, trying to find aged clients by asking regulars at the pub, and finally helping old George Bell, who made the madness of the day more than worthwhile.
George has been living for 16 years in a "house" (sheds) out in the bush near the racetrack, which is about 5 km out of town on the Wiluna Road. There's no actual address. To find his place, I had to just sort of drive around in the bush randomly until I came upon it by accident, nestled amongst poinciana trees. I am getting good at telling a living abode from a regular old shed - you look for the bit of desert that has the most tyre tracks, and at each building you look for signs of generators, vehicles, beer cans etc. There are heaps of old sheds, dongers and god knows what all through the bush around the racetrack grounds; George has just had his driving licence cancelled for medical reasons, so I figured his place would have his ute parked near it somewhere, and yay I spotted it.
Anyway, after a shouted conversation over his homemade security fence he let me in and I saw this weird contraption hanging by the front door. "That's a genuine Coolgardie safe young lady!" He peeled back the wet fabric around it and yep, it was the real thing, an old metal safe that ye olde miners used to use to keep things cool. I'm going out to visit George again soon so I'll take lots of photos. "You put your hand in there and feel that." I did, and it was amazingly cool.
George is a bit of a hermit, and was keen to show off his place with all its improvements in vast detail. "Now, you see this hinge here, notice how I've used 12 mill bolts instead of the standard 9's? Now, you just try and pull that off, see how strong it is? That's because I used real steel, found it at the tip, you don't find those at the hardware store anymore, now just have a look here, these hinges aren't as good but I'm putting bigger ones in later, then you just turn this latch to the right, see how it doesn't quite fit? That's because I didn't have a ten mill screw, so I made one up out of an eight and..."
Approximately ten years later I managed to ease him into a discussion about what services he would like from us, and then he took me outside to sit and experience his shade room. Surrounded by poinciana trees, it's like an oasis. I narrowly avoided a long description of how he repaired one of the chair legs and we started talking about some of the knickknacks I was admiring. We ended up having a great conversation; he is someone who takes great joy in life and loves little treasures he finds here and there, all with a story.
I went back later in the day to pick him up to go shopping in town, and when I arrived he said "I've got a present for you!" He brought out a beautiful rock with veins of jasper all through it. "This is from Marble Bar, I thought you would like to have it." I was so touched and thanked him profusely, it's a great gift. He also gave me his eccentrically scrawled "schedule" so we can work out when he needs a lift and stuff. I am hoping to have it deciphered by the end of the month.
I gave him the hostel services number, and my mobile number, with strict instructions to call if he wants help, because three days ago Gary found him sitting at the side of the highway, knackered from trying to walk back from town. George uses a walking stick and can barely walk!! He made it into town OK, but ran out of puff on the way back; thank god Gary found him. "Me hips were buggered love!" He plans to move into the aged care hostel, but he's so clearly attached to his place and so used to being independent that it's a huge step for him. So we're just helping him do it gradually and letting him know he can get help if he wants it.
He enjoyed the van ride, taking me on a short cut through the bush on a track he made himself, complete with hand-made road signs! "DONT PARK UNDER TREE, ANT NEST", "THIS WAY TO MEEKATHARRA AND WILUNA", "ROAD CLOSED!" "DETOUR LOOK OUT" and so on. We made it safely to the highway with his non-stop navigation advice. "Mind that washout there on the right, now veer left here love there's an old fence don't want to get tangled in that wire, made that sign meself that's the old track got washed out go a bit left here past them trees don't go right yet look out for that gully".
On the return trip I was introduced to the three-way fridge ("it needs a 2.7 regulator but they only had a 2.8 crikey better take that milk out before it freezes"), and the car battery which he uses to start the shed generator, then he wanted me to sit out by the poinciana trees again to appreciate the shade some more, and finally I managed to escape. I think I'll take Gary out when I visit, I think they could have hours of Car Aspergers together.
He was just delightful, a real outback "do it yourself" old fashioned bloke, bravely facing up to the acceptance of having to move away from his beloved bush and independence. It's hard to imagine him sitting in the day lounge with a cup of tea, soft biscuits and the mindless babble of The Today Show.
No comments:
Post a Comment