With all the wild weather, Gary has been filling me in with random hurricane facts, and when he reminded me that a 2x4 can penetrate a house wall, I said "Forget hiding in the loader, you need to build us a bomb shelter." We happen to have 2 huge old concrete cisterns that Gaz brought home one day for no particular reason, so he's going to lay them end to end like a tunnel and then dump rocks and soil over them as our cyclone shelter. Who needs a holiday home!
During our last storm, Hazel was doing the sleepover shift at the aged care hostel, and discovered little Greta wandering around outside freaking out at the thunder and lightning. Hazel ended up with Greta and Butterpup all crammed into the sleepover bed, clinging to her for comfort. We were in fits laughing at Hazel's description of it.
We've had a crazy few weeks at the hostel, starting with poor old Don going into palliative care. He's simply fading away, but chipper as ever. He's often a bit confused and when we visit him at the hospital across the road he'll greet us with a cheery "Well where have you been, yer ugly bastard?" We've adopted this as our standard greeting among us hostel gals when we come on shift.
James got loose and was rescued by the police down the creek with his walking frame at one in the morning, and George has had three diabetes attacks in one week with staff having to resuscitate him while waiting for the ambulance. His last attack was last night, Raylene found him lying on the lawn under the sprinkler, covered in ants. The doctors don't know what's causing the attacks, we think he might be mis-measuring his insulin shots. Meanwhile, Stephanie, our visiting respite worker from Geraldton, is sleeping on the floor in the day centre because the aircon in the carer's unit has broken down, and Kiticat has taken to hiding in the kitchen and leaping out to grab us by the leg in the mornings. At least it's not boring and predictable at work!
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