Door

Two posts in one week. That’s how exciting life is in the sticks.
There was not much enthusiasm to go back to work at my second job after being away on leave. Upon discovering one of my new colleagues was difficult to get along with I was even less interested. I spent my lunch break googling other ways to have a second income that fits my skill set and energy levels. There wasn’t a great deal out there, not in Katherine and not without reliable internet.
When I did get to work on the second night the chef noticed I looked like crap. Without even realising, my face was speaking without my jaw flapping. Less than an hour later a migraine was in full swing. Before leaving I noticed I was rostered on for two nights the next weekend. What happened to my specified “No Weekends”?
When I got home I was keen to just get to bed and get some sleep. During the day there must have been a big gust of wind that had ripped the tarp down (again), blew some things around and shut the caravan door. I opened the door and out rushed one very excited and desperate for the loo dog. She came out so quickly her chain got caught and yanked on the bottom of the door and next minute, there it is, swinging off one lonely, bent hinge. I stared at it. My shitty caravan was even more shitty thanks to the dog getting trapped inside. And then there’s that horrible moment, that epiphany, that I might be sick of working two jobs but my less-than-comfortable life was made even slightly less comfortable and quitting would mean I’d have to wait over two years before I can build a house rather than just one.
Tonight’s activities are obviously going to involve rehanging the door. It didn’t bother me that I couldn’t run the generator for the air con last night, I was too tired to care. What did bother me was Kip’s singular barks to indicate how pissed off she was about having to sleep outside. Too bad dog, such is life.

Plan B

Will Smith reckoned there was no reason to have a Plan B because it distracts from Plan A. Well, what if you never had a Plan B because you didn’t expect Plan A to go to hell in a hand-basket? Hmmm? Answer me that Will Smith!
Plan A was very simple. Purchase a 12v camp shower. Put the bilge pump in the water pod. Put the other bit in the cigarette lighter of the Landcruiser and voila! A shower with a decent flow, enough to wash ones hair.
That lasted a little while, till mid-December when I was half way through dying my hair. The fuse blew. So instead of leaving the dye in for the necessary time, here’s me, on the back of the ute, flopped all over the top of the pod so I can scoop the water out with a cup and wash the dye out of my hair before it burns my scalp from being there too long. When I had time and daylight to spare I replaced the fuse. I checked to make sure it was working and I was satisfied that when I returned to camp and needed a shower I would be able to with the now-fixed camp shower. But nooo, that wasn’t meant to be!
It’s now early April and I’ve returned to camp. Head to toe in flakes of tarpaulin and covered in diesel and the days sweat I was ready for a shower. Fuse blown… Again! I didn’t know whether to curse the Landcruiser for blowing the fuse or the camp shower for having too weak of a fuse supplied (even the spare). So instead of flailing all over the top of the pod to scoop out water to wash myself I stared at the tap at the bottom wishing I had got my act together ages ago to fit it with joiners and 2 inch pipe so the water can at least run out beyond the Landcruiser tray and I could catch it in a bucket. Instead I’m wedging the bucket underneath the tap and getting things done at a slow pace. A Plan B was needed. And the other night Plan B was installed.
A bucket, a pulley, rope and a drill. Plan B is up a tree. And it’s not that bloody great. It’s amazing that while I was using this basic system that all the physics I actually did manage to learn at school flashed before my eyes. The fulcrum (ie: the handle) is not in the right spot for optimum pouring. It needs to be around the middle of the bucket, not at the top. The rope at the spout that tilts the bucket is only capable of pouring so much out before I have to push the bucket up from the bottom with soap in my eyes. A new drilled hole in the bucket and a rethreading of rope is in order!
So much drama just for a flipping shower!

Plan A: 12v Camp Shower with the bilge directly in the water pod.

Plan B: A bucket suspended from a tree with rope and a pulley.