Here We Go Again - Chapter 6 - Woodford Day 2

Ok Foxtel what is the issue 🙁 Not Happy Jan (as the commercial goes). Last night for the second night in a row, I have tried to watch a football game (this time of my favourite team the mighty Rabbitohs) the telecast freezes. It wont come back successfully, just like it wouldn’t the previous occasion, in fact the only thing you get is a loop or an error message that your Samsung TV requires rebooting. Sorry Mr Foxtel but I am watching from my HP Laptop and rebooting only gets me back to the loop. Please don’t tell me its an internet connection issue either as I have a Telstra SIM card in my computer and my phone, with a similar SIM is showing multiple bars of reception. 

Yes I agree it can be user error – but not this time. 

It is not isolated to me either. As soon as I make a grumpy note on Facebook, I get many cousins and mates saying they are having the same issue. 

Subscription TV – you pay for the privilege to watch AND STILL GET COMMERCIALS – then the service is less than what I might term “merchantable quality”. Time for an adjustment to their bottom line by voting with our feet I suspect. Foxtel is costly and unreliable and there are a number of alternatives – a Kodak moment perhaps. If you dont know what I mean look at the history of Kodak and the introduction of digital photography. Too big to believe they could be wrong, believing like Enron, in their own importance, perhaps its time for the customers to teach them a lesson. 

Enough of that, it only makes me angry. 

Although in the bush there is still a constant sound of traffic, but as morning breaks the sounds are overtaken by the birds. The plovers, the magpies, the crows, the bell birds (which Robyn tried to record last night), the lorikeets and even three black cockatoos that make enough noise to think they are a much larger flock than visible “pollute” the air this morning. There are also ibis (bin chickens) winging their way overhead. 

The fire is easily revitalised and roaring within minutes and does not seem to phase the wildlife. There is no breeze which hides the crispness of the air as I climb the hill behind the van to take a sunrise shots across the Glasshouse Mountains. The oranges and greys are stunning this morning. The use of the inverter last night reduced the batteries only marginally. I will keep an eye on the solar input today to see if we need a boost from the generators whilst the meeting of Secret Men’s Business occurs. 

Wallie has given us a list of local “attractions”. One, a restaurant on a hill with stunning views, sounds like a morning tea venue for sure. We do have to coordinate the arrival of Silver Leader

and Forbsy. They will probably get kicked out of the park before 10.00am which puts them here at around 11.00am at the latest. 

There was much sledging of the dinner repasts last night. They had resorted to the local fishermen’s co-op and were dining on oysters and prawns while we dined out on Woolworths roasted chicken and tomatoes. Robyn eats oysters but I do not and if we were to vote I think the roast chicken was the better option – but thats just me. 

I had resorted to the block splitter and my best impression of a lumberjack this morning rather than look to walk the long, dewey grass. Having said that, I did walk up the hill for the sunrise shot. My lumberjacking efforts looked small when I stacked them up adjacent to the fire but it did bring a sweat and got the heart racing as requested by the doctor. That is the exercise ticked off today’s list of must do’s. 

Sitting around the fire in the morning light, it would be easy just to sit here all day, and we might just end up doing that, or at least until the others arrive. There is some work that could be done but I am in no mood to remove myself from this recliner by the fire, having said that at 8.00am I 

am yet to have breakfast. The mesmerising licks of the fire, wandering around and above the fuel of timber logs are enough to make a person want to stop and contemplate their navels, doesn’t it? I often take ultra slow motion shots of fires just to watch the flames, full motion. 

The peace is broken by a squadron of white cockatoos. They are not close enough to see if they are yellow crests or simply corellas but they are noisy as cockatoos normally are. They fly in formation much like you see the squadrons of bombers and fighters in World War II movies like 12 O’Clock High (1948 20th Century Fox) or Midway (2019 Lionsgate). Some break off and come and investigate from the trees, then move on back to the main group making that infernal noise that only cockatoos can, all the way into the distance 

Secret Men’s Business – you can see why it is going to be easy to solve the world’s problems seated around a mesmerising fire with learned brains. Barons full of experiences of life, morals and honour. Wallie defined “Grumpy Old People” as those of us unwilling to politely grit our teeth at the stupidity of others. How right he is. Life is too short, and becoming shorter for those of us of a “certain age”, why should we keep up the appearances of tacit acknowledgement of those we know to be wrong just to keep the peace. 

I feel I am going to enjoy this evening, because if these guys are anything like Wallie, we are in for a most pleasant of evenings. We, the Silver Schoolies, have been tasked with the libationary penance. To that end I have arranged for a bottle of Gold Label Jack Daniels. A very smooth drop that will, I am sure, fuel the inner recesses of the world issues fixing brains tonight. It may well be that the standard answer to the questions “what did you solve last night” may be more of the forgotten in the haze of hangover on Monday. 

In the period between their arrival and the Secret Men’ Business Meeting, we wander the property, snap the views of the Glasshouse Mountains and take the obligatory “mood” shots of

Forbsy posing over something looking like he is either inhaling it or just the opposite. It brings mirth to us all and we all try similar shots. 

Upon our return to the fire site, someone suggested we should have billy tea. There are issues with this. One we don’t have the obligatory “trestle/tripod” across the fire, two we don’t have a way to hand the billy from the structure and thirdly and probably most importantly – we don’t have a billy.Not to be deterred in anyway I set about fashioning a structure suitable for the job. Our hosts may have said billy and an old coat hanger to fix the other problems, but for now the mudder of invention is at work. There are plenty of saplings in the woodheap. Building them is a matter of some cord from my fishing gear and we have it. A structure strewn across the fire, tied down at both ends with potential tripping hazards but fit for purpose. Pictures are taken and marvelling done a the enginuity. 

Wallie and Suzy return and the other get to meet our hosts. He is worried about us dealing with the deer and the cattle but we suspect that if we leave them alone the opposite will apply. He is starting to gather the supplies for the meeting and while the charge in the van appears good in the afternoon sun, Robyn continues to work, draining the batteries. We will have to keep an eye 

on it, break out the generator if we have to or there may be some issues in the morning with a poor night’s sleep without CPAP and a fridge not working. 

Forbsy has decided to make sausage rolls for the meeting, but not ordinary ones, chorizo and mince ones, with herbs and spices. I will also contribute my spinach and 5 cheese pies. The idea of the sausage sizzle and meeting has become a culinary event. 

The meeting is so secret that only one other couple arrives for the meeting. Irene and Steve, along with Wallie and Suzy join us around the now roaring fire. Wallie having inspected our “park fees” has “allowed” us the privilege of staying. Mark is not so trusting and requires inspection of the wares. 

We start him and Wallie off with a Gentlemen Jack in one of the ½ litre tin mugs. The girls are into Robyn’s bubbles. Forbsy breaks out the sausage rolls and the meeting is called to order. 

Because the oven in the van is very slow I have put the spinach pies under foil on the hot plate to finish off. Once the round of spinach pies, bite sized morsels of the Forbsy secret recipe he is ordered to share with the Secret Men (and happy to do so) its time for the spinach pies to break out of their foil prison. They go around just like the sausage rolls. I had added some sweet chilly 

sauce this recipe just to see how it went and by all the rumblings around the fire the inclusion met with approval. 

As the darkness takes over, it falls to Wallie to prepare the fire unde the hot plate. Mark sledges him mercilessly in much the same manner we give each other a hard time. Mark eventually takes over and Wallie retires to the safety (or not) of a chair to commence work on the Jack Daniels Gold, finds it much to his liking and settles in, not knowing there are two other sets of park fees for him to try.

Like a kid with ADHD, Walie seems to be up and down adding fuel to the fire while providing darting reparte to the conversation. All of a sudden he disappears out of the fire light. Refocus of the eyes reveals he has tripped over a stack of wood I had prepared in my lumberjacking efforts of the morning, fallen through the electric fence (thankfully it is only for show) and come to rest in another pile of timber and laughing his head off. 

Not to be outdone I manage to trip over one of the stays for the ingenious tea maker structure and it goes crashing into the fire. Mirth and merriment abound. 

In time the intrepid Schoolies will fix the fence but for now, the merriment and the scene suggest the meeting should probably come to a close soon. Dessert first. Robyn and I whipped up some store bought mud cake slices, hunted and gathered from the local Woolworths which also go down a treat. 

Thankfully, it is not far for either of the Secret Men to drive home and they head off, having solved issues they will potentially not remember in the morning. 

For us the plan tomorrow is Steve Irwin’s Australia Zoo