On the Road Again
And thanks to the heavy rain last week, we've been driving all over the road again...
Summer Seriously?
Folks, a few weeks ago I wrote, with some small measure of rapture, that the last hot, humid, damp, muggy, armpit soaking, days of Summer were now, finally, behind us.
Um, not quite.
Last Monday, Mr. Humidity returned and bought his clingy mate, Senor Moisture, with him.
To add to the fun, we had a couple of ‘away’ trips, including an 800klm round trip to Emerald, and back, for a show and it was touch and go if the main roads would be open.
They were, but it was like joining a production of ‘Highway Bogan Ballet’ as cars, caravans and trucks weaved all over the road like a group of drunk interpretive dancers desperately trying to avoid potholes big enough to swallow small cars.
I amused myself by mentally labelling the highway holes in order of size and potential destruction:
Hubcap Remover
Wheel Alignment Adjustor
Passenger Waker
Tyre Destroyer
Rim Rooter
Strut Snapper
Chassis Crumpler
Camry Killer
SUV Swallower
B - Double Buster
Not So Grand Canyon
Road crews were out doing their best in diabolical conditions, but while they were shoveling shit uphill, or into massive holes, more potholes were appearing like political promises; numerous, big and hollow.
The Good Gladstone Samaritan
Anyway, while I was getting my tyres replaced (and the front and rear wheels re-aligned… yeah, did I mention potholes?), the owner of the tyre shop pointed to a car outside with two wrecked wheels, and some underbody damage, and said it belonged to a woman who had hit one of the really big potholes.
A Gladstone driver spotted her in distress, then drove home, hooked up his car trailer and towed her stricken vehicle back to town and dropped it off at the tyre shop; for free.
It’s nice to know chivalry ain’t dead.
Normal Service Has Been Resumed
Anyway, we survived… Summer and the trips away. Senor Humidity has fled north with the squawking cuckoos, the creeks and rivers are full and flowing (apparently with swollen bodies of drowned cattle), the bush, yards and gardens are blooming, backyard lines are full of damp clothes toasting in the sun and the sound of mowing, whipper-snipping and hedge trimming round Gladdy town is echoing to the hills and back.
And I got to perform at one of Dolly’s gigs as a guitarist! So, life, in general, is pretty good…
To be continued…
Cheers,
Greg
