We're Under Construction

2015-07-19T00:50:00.000-07:00

This blog is under construction. If you happened to come across it while it's in this state, please come back later, because once we get it going, it'll be great! Here's a sample of the kind of news stories that will be in it:

Coffee Bean Dilemma puts Baggy Housewife in Turmoil
Chestina Speak-Wokley is a rather large and florid lady, with hair of an indeterminate purple colour and baggy legs, who describes herself as an 'adventurous homemaker'. Chestina lives in suburb of 'Listen to the Birds Squawking', a rather tacky new estate built by Brick Venereal Homes that is blossoming outside Gumtree Gully. She said at the Canasta Club for Gentle Folk last week that she is definitely not having any children until she is at least forty-two. Most members of the club are of the opinion that that was at least ten years ago, but hardly dared to mention it. Chestina anxiously expressed her fears at the club that there is a new brand of coffee on the market, which is trendier than the brand she currently buys. 'I buy 'Pagadonian Day Dreams', which costs $55 for a very small bag, but I do worry that there is a coffee bean out there that is more expensive. And after all,' she said passionately, 'my husband is the CEO of a rain forest and we do have a standard to keep up.'

Bumpkins stunned by winter weather!

2015-07-18T17:35:00.000-07:00

Some time later we wondered where the water was going to come from, and ten phone calls later, we found out. It was to come from Mrs Flick (the previous owner) over the hills quite a spell, via her own private meter and her own private pipeline, at her own private price. The fencing, by now hardly worth bothering about, and certainly a minor concern, was to be done at her son-in-law’s convenience, mostly during State Holidays spread out over a year or so.

We also had another logistical problem, the land broker, who, as a small matter of interest, ran her business out of a deli in an Adelaide suburb, and had a severe cash flow problem, was the real estate agent's ex-wife, hated him and we think by default, all his clients. She insisted in being paid in a complex manner involving several cheques, that we subsequently found out was only beneficial to herself. We concluded the land purchase in the back of a shop amidst a multitude of sandwiches. We since found out that some of our purchase money did not arrive in Mrs Flick’s purse, but that’s another story, and Mrs F’s problem.

To get back to the fascinating story of the water. Learning fast, we decided that we were not going to risk the rest of our financial future in paying to water Mrs F’s herd of cattle, and told her she could shove her water in any direction she desired, but not ours. It is fortuitous that we did this, because there ensued a train of interesting events. We applied to SA Water for a direct supply, and after two months of futile phone calls, always starting with the person on the front desk who informed us that she was ‘Kylie, can I help you’ and then didn’t, and then going through a procession of office bureaucrats, always the same procedure, and achieving nothing. It is of interest to note that the SA Government had lately privatised the water supply to save money and give the public a better service. Finally we received a terse letter saying that it was technically impossible to connect us to the main water supply. This is piquant because the main pipeline is a mere spit away from our estate.

The Jolly Olde Winsome Ridge News

We're Under Construction

Bumpkins stunned by winter weather!