BUILDER WINS ARGUMENT

Hi all
Graeme has won the standoff/demarcation dispute regarding cladding in a very convincing fashion. He sat down, announced he wouldn't be able to carry anything for a while and when asked, showed them a big bulge on his belly. Al made him drive himself straight to hospital where they sliced and diced and sent him home with strict instructions to BE GOOD. Al could have been a little more sympathetic, in my opinion. However he did say that Graeme didn't show too much sympathy when his hernia exploded or whatever they do!

Anyway, Marty has grumblingly agreed to take the job on. Buchaneers and Bash got their heads together and procured a saw which cuts colourbond in straight lines without overheating it as normal wood saws are prone to do. It has not yet had a run, but Marty assures me the screws will arrive tomorrow and we will be into it.

Today, I went to the dump for the seventh time and was pondering life and such things. The dump here is quite an experience. Nothing like the adventure of my Toowoomba days where I would sometimes snavell a fabulous little art deco table with only one leg missing (a restoration project) after risking life and limb crawling through all sorts of horrible festering waste. NO, the dumps of our modern world are very different. They have this huge cement pit and a bigger shed built over it. There, about 15 feet down, we see the flotsam and jetsam of everyday life minus steel bits (Sims Metal recycling), plastic bottles (PET recycling), green waste, copper, anything useable. Not a single interesting thing here. It has all been diverted for reuse which is truly a wonderful thing. I just feel a bit let down, is all. Anyways, there is a youngish girl there every day. She drives a D6 (just in case Cameron is reading this) back and forth over the crapola until it is squished into a kind of stew which Theiss then cart off in very secretive looking white trailers to a destination unknown. Maybe they just let it dribble out along the roadside? Where do they go, I wonder.

While tossing out my crap, the fellow in the next bay and I struck up a general conversation. He is a heavy haulage contractor who carts impossibly large pieces of machinery over railway tracks (approx $10000 to cross a single set) and under power lines (he couldn't even begin to imagine how much these cost to disconnect, move aside and reconnect). He has shifted D11's from Melbourne which prompted me to tell our little story of dozers and Melbourne. We moved on to road accidents and like the rest of the trucking community, he was aware of the details of Kym Lonergan's fatal accident and sympathises with his family even though he never knew him. It is a tight knit community, I guess. The thing he feels sets abnormal load carriers aside is that they get to stop and have a beer at sunset and the other operators have to keep driving. The down side of that is that he has to travel to Darwin tomorrow with a load and trailer and police and wide load escorts with either 26 or 56 tyres - at 80km an hour provided it isn't too hot then he slows down. Apparently it gets pretty boring. If it gets too hot, tyres start to blow and at $500 odd a pop that's not a good thing. I hope he gets there okay.

I'd better go. Trevor is cooking a beef and mushroom pie with his special potato mash and if it's as good as his curries, I will be a happy girl.

Oh, the house. Ali (NOT AL) chose beautiful colours for the exterior and I have purchased all the paint and started preparation for painting. While Graeme is away I shal let loose with the airless sprayer. He goes a funny colour and changes the subject whenever I mention the paint spraygun. I think I scare the poor man sometimes but he is very patient. Not to mention ill and I shouldn't be saying inflammatory stuff or he'll pop open again.