Day Four

Went to bed at about 11pm, woke up at 3am and couldn't get back to sleep. Set the alarm for 8am so that I didn't sleep too long and set up a bad sleep pattern.

Had breakfast and then Sarah came over. She was telling Clare again about a bill that she had forgotten to pay from AT&T and that they were ringing her up. She also forgot that she's had the same conversation twice before in the last 12 hours.

Went for a walk into the City of Slater. We went at 11am so as not to hit the midday traffic. We were lucky and saw 7 cars pass us (when I say cars, they were 1 truck, 2 utes, 2 SUVs, 1 ride-on mower and a motorised wheelchair.)

We passed the obligatory fire hydrant on the corner of the cross street and headed on up into the bustling, unrelenting city. 

On the way into town we passed the family restaurant which has only opened up a few months ago. By all accounts they have good food and service but you'd never notice it from the street facade. As with most shops and businesses, they have very plain appearances from the outside but a surprising dribble of clientele that just keeps them alive. 

We also tried to look into the Museum with the sign in the window: "If it's open, I'm here. If I'm not here, it's shut."

He wasn't there.

He might have been out with the person who ran the Public Library - it opens at 2pm. 

S-T-O-P---P-R-E-S-S: As I'm writing this, a ride-on mower is driving down the street towing a trailer with trees on it. - Must be 12pm midday traffic!

Back to the morning adventure, we passed the Slater Post Office, an impressive structure single-handedly fending off progress in the city. On the topic of things I noticed, there is a Christian Church (whatever flavour) that has a car park adjoining which has a drive-up posting box for you to deliver your prayer requests - for those who are too busy to actually attend services and don't have a home tabernacle. We walked past the drive in bank. Banks tend to be local and privately owned so, if one goes belly-up, they take your money with them. On the side of the building is a typical drive through window opening with an accordion style server box that reaches out to the car driver for delivery of money and documents.

We made it to the C&R Market to buy some frozen mixed asian vegetables because Tim has decided to cook an asian (please read Indian) curry - will let you know how that goes. The only authentic non-American produce available here seems to be Mexican. I think they class anything from California as foreign as well.

 Finally, on the way home, we stopped by the Slater Veteran Memorial Park. The only place I've seen so far that has the impression of being professionally looked after.

OK

Went for another walk later into town because Tim's curry needed coconut milk. One place had a spot on the shelves which was reserved for coconut milk but they was all out - must have been an Asian invasion earlier this morning. The other store had no sign of it. When we asked, the assistant said, "What? - oh no. We only have milk from cows here."

Yoghurt?

"Sorry, no. We don't keep any of that frozen stuff here. We only have the normal kinds of things"

Cream?

Well, shut my mouth. They wuz all outa' that too.

On the way back we met some of Clare's neighbours. One of them just could not grasp the Aussie lingo when I introduced myself. "Tiny?" - No Tony. "Tiny? - Noooo, Tooony!
Then her husband comes out. Hi I'm Tony. "Tiny???" no.... oh what the hell! Cute Aussie accent - my ass!

The photo right is the result of a society where duct tape is classed as a major construction material. When Tim and I walked past on the way, the garage was empty. We both thought you'd have to be stupid to park in that thing. Maybe we were correct?

After dinner (Tim did a good job with the curry) I sat outside and watched the fire flies in the paddock area behind the house. They look just like intermittent sparks that shoot out of  well lit fire. The last for a second with real intensity and go out. So bright, you can see them 30-40 meters off into the distance.

Later in the evening, we headed on over to Mark's place (the guy doing the ceiling of Jerry and Laura's place over the back.) He invited us around to visit his workshop. It's a cellar (front door - go up into house or down into cellar) which is decked out like a wood shop. It's underground, it's got crazy wood tools, it keeps him and Lenny out of trouble. They are both sincere and nice people who have no problem giving up their time to help those less fortunate. Here is a picture with Mark holding up some shelf holders (in the shape of dragons) that he is doing for an old lady who was like his mother to him.