The felines of Far Out

When we came to Far Out I intended to have only two cats, Porgy and Bess. But no one wanted Tigger, so he stayed, and then, along came Daisy.

I gave up cats for about 12 years in the interests of small birds and wildlife, and also because I was afraid of becoming a cat lady. But when there was a plague of field mice, I went out in search of an effecive solution. The first candidate was a  $200 rescue cat from the  RSPCA with the most promising name of  Hunter, who was gorgeous looking but scratchy and not cuddlesome.. When I asked if he might decide to move out of our place,seeing as he had abandoned one family, the cat-keeper told me that they generally did run away, there was no refund, and if it was rescued again and rehoused I would have to pay up again!

Daisy the dwarfette





Porgy the kingpin



I decided to hunt for a careless Cat Lady who did not desex her animals. Such women always have  a A Bad Reputation in the Neighbourhood, so it did not take long source a  Genuine Cat Lady with around 68 cats all living inside her house.

 I brought home two  kittens (free to good home, of course), brother and sister, who had been hauled around remorselessly by the children of Genuine Cat Lady. They were black with fleas...the kittens, that  is ( I didn't check the children!)

Once my moggies (Porgy and Bess) were thoroughly Veterinated, they proved to be adorable. The male had the big chop immediately....and the girl got pregnant before reaching the mandatory weight for desexing. She chose the Russian Blue next door (can hardly believe that they were as careless as we were on that issue).  We accidentally kept the least attractive of the litter, Tigger, and he has proven to have the beautiful disposition of his relatives, calm and floppy, purry and peaceful.

The Master Bricoleur arrives

  

I am always looking for skilled trades and craftspeople to help me with the house or garden at Far Out.

I did not have to wait long for a bush brickie to take down my 1879 dunny. A "free" laborer walked back into our lives in the shape of Son Number 3,  home from his unhappy marriage. 

 He doesn't want to be back home at 30 something, and I don't want to keep him, but it's bed and board and a fair exchange because work is his way of handling the angst.

Who can blame a man for longing to be with his children and to have his own home and life  as it once was. In less than three months Son Number 3 has demolished the dunny, cleaned the bricks, formed up the paths and laid most of them, built concrete steps, ripped down a wall of vegetation that obstructed the paths and views, chopped wood for the winter, fixed doors that were unhinged or stuck, repaired my wooden bobbins, created shelves in a cupboard for our video collection, and motivated his aging father to participate in some of  these non sedentary activities. He has also been on shopping sprees to our local recyclers next to the tip, and entered into the values of the bricoleur,  the craftsman who wastes nothing, who remakes, restores and reuses.

 .So now the lovely dunny shown in the picture above has gone into the magnificent path on the left....all those diamonds on the bricks indicate convict labor from around 1870. The second dunny is nothing more than a deep double brick pit....who knows what we can do with that?  The beautiful sandstone window ledge has been removed, and it is awaiting a new home. The louvered window was made of cedar, and it was still in pristine condition, and it will go into another building. The bricks have been cleaned and laid into the  path which ties the garden and house into a cohesive whole.

For those who think the demolition of this dunny was sacrilege, don't worry, we have two more precisely the same.  The one nearest the house will be restored into a working flushable lavatory, and the one farthest away will be extended into a studio that looks out to the distant hills. I want a studio for my Indigo dye baths, and the floor loom I am planning to buy. When I write things like this I wonder if it is actually achievable, but when I look around the place at Far Out and see what has been done in just over a year, I feel confident.

On the left is one of the two surviving Dunnies...this one has a kerosene can roof. The path will wind down past it to join up with the long straight one which goes to the veggies, the chook and what will be a citrus orchard with protection against the bitter winter.

Bit of sandstone on the ground at the bottom left of the picture.

I cannot imagine why the washing line (picture below) was put at the top of this slope - sure, it catches the breeze, but for someone with Evil Knees it is quite a struggle. Steps will be a help.

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