Meeka is just great - you don't have to make phone calls or anything, you just run into people and organise stuff ad hoc (using the word "organise" in its loosest sense, of course). This morning at work Sue the Dentist was hanging her undies out on the communal hostel line (she stays at the hostel on her Meeka visits), so I asked if she could organise to have Gary's teeth mailed up instead of us having to go down to Mount Magnet to get them (long story, don't ask). No worries!
Then on my Mystery Meals Travelling Circus Food Tour deliveries I came across a large jolly man driving the Karalundi jeep, who turned out to be Simon ("God bless! Lovely to meet you!") and asked him about adopting some of their semi-retired chickens ("Oh, yes, God bless you! Just pop in and see John the Farmer next time you're driving past"), because Ethel is lonely and trying to sleep in the house with us. Hopefully the chickens don't have any peculiar religious leanings as a result of their incarceration at Karalundi ("God is watching YOU"), but if they do, they'll soon find out if there's a heaven or not because Gary plans to eat them.
I do not share Gaz's enthusiasm for this project because (a) the chickens will have names within half an hour of arriving at the bush camp, and (b) guess who will end up having to do the scalding and plucking, not to mention having to poke at them roasting in a smoky firepit in the yard because the gas oven is too scary to light up. Maybe we could use it to humanely gas the chickens to "sleep". What would Jesus do?
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