Its been a heeeeeeektic few weeks with us islanders being unceremoniously re-inserted into lockdown.
To be honest its worse the second time round. The first time you don’t know what to expect, but you know that there is no way around it and you just grit your teeth, close your eyes take it.
The second time is like being repeatedly summoned back to a clumsy thick fingered proctologist, because, “the results were inconclusive”.
Apparently, this is normal, but I think mine is withholding something from me, and, while I’m on the matter, is it normal for the appointments to be held in low light setting after the staff have gone home? (points to ponder one day.)
Like I said Covid has pretty much screwed everyone over (except for spiderpig) and we are not alone.
Wonder Woman is jobless, Trenticles turns 18 and can’t have a party, I have to smoke rollies (I look like I’m smoking pot) while Spiderpig carries on blissfully in his room, watching henti or some other kak.
AAAANNNNNNNYYYYYYWAAAY. There was the odd job or two that needed to be done around the house and I placed (even though you read placed, understand that it was subtle suggestion and encouragement) Wonder Woman on a single garden improvement project.
I assumed that as soon as my machiavellian plan was put into action all would be right in the world and I could resort to drinking beer in peace.
Initially this unfolded quite well as it kept her mind off the old job and occupied her with things to achieve. (she worked for a cemetery, so it was a dead-end job anyway). She would learn new skills and I got to concentrate on work.
Before I continue I think I need to add some context, not that you need it, but I feel that it would make for a better understanding of how we arrived at this point.
Some time ago Skinny Giant and Bones gave us a “semi-permanent” gazebo that they were taking down.
Trenticles and I had put it up in the back garden but then winter arrived in Melbourne like a surprise running fuck slap, added to that Covid decided to fuck over the rest of 2020 and all plans of socializing, backyard braais and informal parties were given a status of TBD (to be determined).
I had priced getting the floor of the Gazebo area cemented in and after two anal haemorrhaging quotes of $1100 and $2300 we decided that we should look at another plan. This new plan, brought on by the lack of desire to be corn holed by “9 inch bath plug Babba” in a dark back alley, included self-provided labour to dig out the grass below the gazebo in blocks and place them in strategic positions in the rest of the garden…
Easy enough ne’ well yes, but, you need to understand that we struggle to grow anything, the fact that we managed to grow two kids up to this point, is, well, basically it’s a miracle.
Between myself, Wonder Woman and Trenticles the 4.5 by 3.5-meter area was cleared out and we had large chunks of grass filling holes in the garden that we didn’t even know we had.
All of this was done by hand as we don’t own a wheelbarrow. That was early covid days. Fast-forward about a month and I had laid some spare bricks into the now bare area, so that it “looked” neater, well, it didn’t.
Ok so now you got the idea? There is a half-done gazebo in the garden that’s an eyesore. Which doesn’t work for the OCD people that live in our tinshack.
Skinny-Giant and Bones on the other hand were making awesome progress with their garden as it was being transformed from a small cool garden to a “garden & homes” award winning garden.
Skinny-giant’s creative flair and manual labour combined with Bones’s drive (whip) to have a completed garden made our effort and results look like my marks the first six times I wrote accounts 101 in varsity (trust me I didn’t write it six times because I enjoyed the subject).
After consulting the inter-web, you tube and the People from the Mountain, we (Wonder Woman), had a plan to get this area paved with as little cost as possible.
Wonder Woman ordered two Cubic meters of crushed stone for the base (my calculations), we borrowed a wheelbarrow and I purchased some wooden boards for the border at an affordable $5 each.
Our initial outlay in total was approx. $250 and the project was kicked off.
Ever heard of the 5 P’s “Proper planning prevents poor performance”.
Or how about scope creep?
I can manage a biased angry wrestling sharks supporter away from a TV when their team is losing (had lots of practice) I can even talk my way out of a Poesklap in broken Afrikaans but I had no control of the events that transpired on this “simple, little project”
Firstly, 2 Cubic meters of crushed stone was about 1.5 Cubic’s more than what we needed.
Secondly counting the bricks that we had vs the amount needed was off by about 600 and filling a wheelbarrow with stone at the ripe old age of 44 is a lot harder than you would think.
Wonder Woman painted the planks green, dug the holes and planted them in as borders, she then carted about 1 metric tonne of stones filled, flattened and tamped down the area.
The next step was to pave with the bricks, which she did, which only covered about a 1/3 of the area. Hmm, Now what…
Buying bricks was out of the question, at an average cost of $1.10 a recycled brick. Midnight spares from the construction site next door was a strong contender but their bricks were the wrong size and apparently this kind of shopping is not allowed…
Lucky for us the island has rubbish dumps that they discourage you from using by charging exorbitant prices to dump pretty much anything. What the inhabitants do here to overcome this problem is to advertise their shit on Facebook marketplace. So instead of lying in bed on a Sunday morning we spent 2 hours cruising the hood for 100 bricks, which is cool, but we were still 400 odd bricks short.
And this, dear reader, is where a small project became a series of additional “small” projects.
The pathway that ran along the side of the house, which was in semi-perfect condition, only 5 or 6 bricks needed to be lifted and “reset” was irritating Wonder Woman anyway (OCD MUCH?), had enough bricks so that got used. Which lead to the start of the next Project.
Project 2: Make a garden bed in the open area left from the now non-existing pathway. That’s not so bad I just pop Back to Bunnings to get more planks. Which will need to be painted etc etc. Oh! we will need some soil to fill that up so we will just take some from the garden bed under the tree. Which means that we now have a place to put the extra stone.
Project 3: Use up the remaining Crushed stone. This means clear out the area under the tree and move the stone under there so it looks good, update the garden bed edge so it matches the rest of the garden… Shit!!! Back to Bunnings to get more planks. We now have a gap…
Project 4: Fill the gap between the now new garden bed and the Gazebo… “Hey a deck would be nice, you know like Skinny Giant and Bones have, We can use the pallets to make it. We just need to make it look neat in the front”. That’s right, you fucken guessed it…back to Effing Bunnings to get more planks. I spend the next Saturday dismantling pallet chairs, pulling out all the nails, there is a shitload of nails in a pallet by the way, cut the wood to the correct size and build a deck.
Whilst giving ourselves a virtual pat on the back for a job well done it was suggested that…
Project 5: We need a fire pit = more bricks. Which led to….
Project 6: “That area doesn’t look need so I’m going to repave that, which will incidentally give us the correct amount bricks we need for project 5”. oh no… guess what… Back to Bunnings to buy, wait for it… More planks…
And possibly,
Project 7. “We need to paint the garden walls”…
As the self-appointed project manager I can report to you the following: projects 1 through 7 are complete,
Wonder Woman has delivered on these projects under trying conditions at best. With the intermittent Melbourne weather and carefully administered nightly doses of wine combined with pain killers for her back and knees.
However, I think that the greatest hardship has been, for both of us, what was once her soft and supple hands are now scarred and calloused to a point where she can’t pick up a woolly blanket for fear of become attached to it like Velcro.
All this time Spiderpig has not risked a single glance out of his technology encrusted cesspit to see what all the fuss is about.
Never, even once, did it cross his teenage bird brain that he should offer help. With greater things to loose than our no pants Monday ritual, I put my hand up and put in my fair share but it’s was dismal compared to her achievement.
Should you be looking for a stolid “do it al”l handy woman, that works hard but tends to make a quick job into something that makes the great wall of china look trivial, I know one.
Don’t be concerned however this one comes with newly acquired skills and at present unlimited spare time.
I have attached some before and after photos so we can oooh and ahh over her work.
Try not to be too persnickety when reviewing the photos 😊
Topic: Australia.... The Island Saga (Read 52203 times)
