You Can Take The Bloke Out Of The Bush Camp...

So George isn't doing so well and is back in Geraldton, this time for his hip. We are trying to get him into supported accommodation somewhere. We check on him nearly every day, and I went over to my house on the weekend to discover that he is using a TORCH instead of turning on the lights, and for bizarre reasons known only to him, had unplugged all the fridges, freezers etc and connected them all to ONE power point via a bunch of powerboards & adaptors. I nearly had a fit!

While I was restoring sanity to the electrical setup, I found that he'd put a crappy old electric toaster oven thing on top of the perfectly normal functioning stove - WHY?? But worst of all, he's been sitting in front of an old bar heater thing that he's plugged in with yet another dodgy electrical cord, in a house that has TWO ginormous brand new heaters that won't set the house on fire. He says his feet get cold, but because of his diabetes he has almost no feeling in his feet, so basically he is just roasting his feet like a pair of hams in front of the bar heater. Mmmm. Glazed haaaaaaammmmmmm.......

I gave him a big lecture on electrical safety and he apologised, but he's a worry! Thank god the place is insured. He's going into respite at the hostel when he gets back and we'll see what we can organise for him, before he starts rewiring my place with bits of coat hanger wire and small pieces of string (one of the many features of his DIY work at the bush camp).

Meanwhile, we are cosy and warm in our humble shed - if we're too tired to collect firewood for the evening, we use a patio heater that Gary nicked from Paddy's Flat at my urging. There was ice on the car windshield the other morning when I went to work! Ice! ICE! That's just wrong! We're in some odd narrow arid zone band of WA which gets dementedly hot summers and freeeeeezing cold winters, with the bone-chilling desert wind coming at us from the east. Oh what I would give for a nice hot 45 degree day now! Ha ha ha. I won't be saying that when it comes, we are still sitting around wondering where to start with insulation. If summer comes and you don't hear from us, just pop round - it shouldn't smell too bad, they say roasting human flesh smells just like pork.