There hasn’t been much to report Eastside over the past couple of days, except for weeding. But there are only so many times I can tell you how hard it is to chop down an acre of sky-high foliage with a machete, and how much fun. If the wind drops today, I’m reckoning on a bit of burning to mix it up a bit. Doubtless, Dickster will turn up for the glory job of lighting the match.
Last night we went to meet visiting dignitary, aka my mum, over at Jimbillybobs. She wasn’t overly keen on the idea of a cosy supper in the ‘van so Jimbo’s it was. Rich availed himself of the flushing facilities and then we watched something called a television. The television was exciting, but more so was the Facetime conversation between my niece Belle and Jessticle – amazing, never seen anything like it. Who knew? Certainly not me. Last week it was a dongle, this week, seeing people while you speak to them, miles away. Brilliant. By the time we’ve built the house, I’m hoping technology will have come up with a virtual assistant who can muck out the horses, clean the house and mow our lawn. For free.
I think one of the biggest barriers to building from a wreck is where to live in the meantime. We plumped for the caravan for a number of reasons. Well, one actually, it’s cheap. When you tell people you’re living in a ‘van, the usual reaction is firstly of disdain and secondly, of sympathy.
Let me tell you a secret, while the toileting facilities aren’t great, living in the ‘van is utterly brilliant – seriously. The biggest downside has been whacking your knee every time you try and shuffle round the bed but that’s it. Five grand and you can live like a king. I don’t know why more people don’t do it. To that end, I asked Dickie to film ‘Through the keyhole’ and this is what he came back with…