The wild social whirl of the island. Never a dull moment... We had a visit from the police this lunchtime. Yes, you all suspected it, didn't you. He's not really a dull sf/fantasy author cum self-sufficiency nutter. He's really a power mad cultist from Borneo/a power mad scientist from North Korea set on word domination/selling dangerous hallucigens/all of the above. Well, you're out of luck. He merely came to talk about going for a dive (and probably to check on the fusion reactor I'm building, to help with my power madness... nhaa haa ha... evil cackle). Anyway, we did what good country coppers do, talked about fish, and boats and diving and guns, for the purpose of shooting wallaby. I may have a lead on someone who can put scope grooves into my old Lithgow. Then a little later we cut some wood, and stoked up the fire and went off to the meet the doctor and family party. I think he'll do fine, and his wife and kids are sweeties. They're keen on the outdoor life, and fishing and diving, and we're glad to have them.

James has just been charging his mobile on the camera jack, which did not work too well for either, so tomorrow I must see if I can get it to transfer pictures.

The Eggs-box and the blackerry

I've derived a good new way of fire-lighting. In winter, here, that becomes a necessary skill. When your wood-burning heater is elderly and has its air flue rusted to one position (and no I am NOT trying to fix it until summer. I don't want to have to replace it if I bust it, and doing so could take a while as it has to come over on the ferry.) When my chooks started laying, we found ourselves without many egg-boxes, so whenever we gave anyone eggs it would be on the 'egg box comes back, please' condition. And people being what they are, they put the egg-boxes in dark places, alone, and you know what? They bred. Multiplied prodigiously. And of course the chooks slowed down for winter, but the flow of egg-boxes coming to us did not. The one thing you don't do on the island is to say 'no' when people want to give you things or take you places -- because they will never offer twice. (My poor Indian friends - from a culture where it is polite to refuse the first two offers, in case the host was trying to be polite but really could ill afford it... had a culture shock). And we WILL need egg-boxes again. Just right now they're Ott. The other issue I have is old cooking oil - with one son allergic to seafood, I have to be very cautious about re-using it. It is however, basically diesel - not easily ignited but long burning. So the perfect firelighter is some old cooking oil poured into 4 squares of egg-box. I like to play with my eggs-box. And I have a blackberry too. And some raspberries. Frozen. Who says we live in the past?

Tomorrow we're (Barbs - via her job at the Doctor's rooms) and James and I, via her, going in to a do to meet the new Island doctor. We're a little nervous about this - Barbs will have to work with him, but that is minor, compared to fact that he is going to be the island's doctor. We were spoiled with Sonia and Biren, and Tony who has been locum-ing is a treasure, who understand Islanders and island life. It's a bit different to a mainland practice. It's an island. You can't just go to a different practice. And the Doctor has to live with a tight-knit, quite inter-related community who will affect his quality of life far more than any mainland community... because they ARE a community, and there are very very few things happen here that everyone doesn't know by nightfall.

The hills and mountains of my horizons

Someday I may become blasé about the beauty of this place. Someday I might become an adequate photographer too. This evening was a perfect example of the sheer paradox that is this complex little environment. Behind us the mist was rolling down over Darling range - granite hills and a sort of Highlands-and-Scotch symphony of grey granite and dark heather, and paler grassland, starkness of its edges softened by the mist. To the south Strzelki mountain drew the clouds around like a fluttering cloak.



In front of us the flatlands leading to sea - and sunset through the wind-twisted pines.


On an evening like this it's like being on the edge of the mountains here. Yet today was a warm one, and I could have taken beach pictures not a mile from the house which looked like the tropics.
Unfortunately B and I are still feeling a bit pale-and-frail -- pretty up and down in my case, so I hope it's nearly done, and I can allow some getting wet and catching stuff to eat. We did go into the Multi-purpose center (sort of like a mini-hospital) and saw the doctor briefly. She seems a sweetie, and we got introduced to a bunch of people - including the lady who rented the place our landlord is now living in so he can rent his place to us - they now have built. Kind of move-one-to-find-place for the next. I'm becoming mildly irritated by the Martha's Vineyard syndrome here. The absentee holiday home-owners - who have a huge effect on the island's property, but actually don't put a lot into keeping the society of it alive. Oh well, early days yet. Maybe they do add something to the place.