2385. A couple of shipping containers

When Clint and Crystal decided to live together they thought it would be fun to create a house – all their own – out of a couple of old shipping containers. Clint had enough money to do this, and once completed and settled they could work towards being self-sufficient. They had seen television programs about people who did such things. It looked like fun and seemed to be the very thing that would bring excitement to their lives.

They ordered two shipping containers and had them delivered onto the property they had purchased next to a forest.

Of course they would rough it in an old caravan until their house was liveable. The internet was a must. How else could they find out how to do things? And they needed electricity. Both of those took months to set up, and by the time it was done Crystal had taken off to town (permanently) as she had grown tired of the isolation.

Clint started visiting the nearest pub some evenings, just for a bit of company, and that was where he met Beth. Beth was really keen to join Clint’s project even though she had never wielded a hammer or a rake in her life. After a couple of weeks she decided that the alternative lifestyle wasn’t really for her and left.

Clint still had the two shipping containers sitting on the ground not even in place. A month or so later he met Carla. Carla was a realist. She said, “You do realize just how much you’ve taken on?” But she agreed to join Clint’s project and boy! did she get things done!

These days Carla and Clint have finished their home, have two kids (four kids if you count the two goats), and are almost self-sufficient with vegetables, fruit, goats, a cow and a couple of sheep. Not to mention the three chickens.

From the outside it looked like an idyllic situation, and indeed it was. It was idyllic until Clint went off to the pub one evening and that was where he met Melinda.

1846. A sometimes over-sombre occasion

This, declared great grandmother Thelma at her husband’s burial, this family is now matriarchal. I am now the person at the top; not grandfather. He did a grand job holding this family together, and now it’s my turn.

I didn’t at all like the way he favoured some over others. From now on we shall all be equal. None of this privileged nonsense of boys over girls when it comes to handouts. Yes, I know there is some Chinese blood crept into the tree, but they are children of grandchildren, and therefore they don’t count. I can’t be responsible for everyone in the human race. After all, we’re all descended from Eve – and Adam.

To help out those in the family less fortunate I would ask those families well-off, and let’s face it that’s most of you, to make a generous donation to the memorial fund for Dennis. You would have seen a box for donations at the church door. Or you can mail it.

I reiterate, this is now a matriarchal family, and…

Come along now Thelma, said Nurse Sherry. Nurse Sherry was in charge at the retirement home just across from the cemetery. Thelma was forever dashing out when there was a burial, standing on the artificial grass mound, and making her regular speech. In fact, some mourners grew to be a little disappointed if Thelma failed to turn up. She cast a certain insobriety to a sometimes over-sombre occasion.

1785. Waiting. Knitting.

Bethany and Lawrence stayed at home to avoid catching (or spreading) the rampant virus. They had enough to survive on. Would one of them suddenly take ill? Had they already picked up the virus and as yet it hadn’t showed? Were they in fact virus-free? Was a virus-filled droplet sitting on the store-bought egg carton awaiting a victim?

The fear was in the waiting. Waiting. Waiting for something that may or may not happen.

And then Lawrence felt a slight tickle in the throat. Was this the virus? Would it get worse?

Bethany began to knit her fourth scarf in a week. She couldn’t concentrate for long enough to knit anything more complicated.

The wait continued.

1784. House renovation

Molly had always wanted a sort of “do-it-yourself” house where she could “do things” like painting rooms. No big hammering stuff. Just arranging this and that, and sanding this and that. In fact, the first thing she did once she had moved in and settled was to sand off the old paint on the staircase bannister and stain it. What a transformation! Now to transform the whole house!

As time went by, she became a little more daring. A little window frame change around here and there. She even bought a skill saw! Hammering nails in and pulling nails out was ho-hum. In fact she almost became convinced that in another life she must have been a carpenter.

It was no use wallpapering the passageway, for example, until the physical renovations were complete. In fact, Molly was practically rearranging the whole house. Once all the physical changes had been made she would begin the decorations. The original staircase bannister had already been removed, which goes to show that one can be over enthusiastic when it came to “doing things” too soon.

Because all the changes were not outside the house, no one had the slightest clue that there was such activity going on inside. No permits or the like had been obtained from whatever branch of government demanded such things. Who would know? And indeed, Molly was right.

There was just one more thing that Molly wanted to do before beginning the decorating stage of her project; she wanted to make a wide opening between the dining room and the sitting room. That way it would become an expansive area, an area of vision and visage! But it was going to be Molly’s biggest task. Thank goodness she did not intend to have doors, even sliding doors, in the newly created space. She was a little too impatient for such precision!

Molly cut a large opening in the separating wall. It took only an afternoon. Thank goodness no one was hurt when the roof of the house caved in.

1287. Yet another joyful story

Truly wonderful things happen to some people occasionally. Reading the stories on this blog one could get the impression that wonderful things happen all the time, but that is simply not the case. Today, however, something wonderful happens in the story. Perhaps it’s even true.

Sigrid and Ferdinand had been married for five years. They desperately wanted a baby (or two) but it was not something they could afford on their meagre wages. They skimped and saved; they did without. How wonderful it would be down the track if they had some children and owned their own home! They rented an old house. Both were keen gardeners, but there was very little space for a garden.

Every week, on a Friday night, they did the grocery shopping together. They would make a list and spend the entire shopping time discussing (at times even arguing) as to the cheapest and most penny-saving brands.

They were in the vegetable section of the store when they were approached by an elderly lady. She was bright-eyed and alert.

“I couldn’t help but over hear your penny-pinching discussion,” she said. “I have a proposition to make. I’ve always been a keen gardener, and my house is on a large property with an orchard and swimming pool. Sadly, the time has come for me to give it up and go into a retirement home. I have no relatives. No one in the world! I would like to give you my house and land, and even the furniture if you wanted it. I have no need for it, and you could sell it if you wished. If you want it, it’s all yours!”

Sigrid and Ferdinand couldn’t believe it. The elderly lady had already moved out. They could move in when they wanted. And indeed they did! They photographed most of the furniture (some they kept for themselves) and placed advertisements for it on an online trading post.

“We should really get some sparkling wine to celebrate,” said Ferdinand. So off they went to the store.

As they passed through the vegetable section they saw their elderly friend. She had cornered a young couple and was saying, “I couldn’t help but over hear your penny-pinching discussion. I have a proposition to make. I’ve always been a keen gardener…”

Music 59: This old house…

Three photos today!

These are photographs of the house where I grew up. Last week it was bulldozed over to make way for a new highway.

I remember in the early 1960s, Dad building the room to the right in the first and second pictures, and welding the wrought iron railings for the steps in the first and third pictures.

The first photo was 1965. The other two photos were taken recently. It’s all gone now, as things do…

Listen to the music HERE.