My Home Project

[MG Man]

pity there were no digital recordings of this incident
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I know it's so, for I told me so

[spike]

Yes WR, another adventure story...
A few weeks ago, I took the kids up to the estate, to help me do some planting. When we reached the estate on Saturday evening, the driveway was blocked by a fallen tree - and to make it worse, it was one of those that is covered with vines and lianas... so there I am, playing trapeze artist, tiptoeing along a slippery log that was suspended a foot above the roadway by vines and all sorts of leafy crap, with Nicky behind me holding a rope and the "come along" (my answer to most immovable objects)... I happen to look down and see the fattest mapepire balsain I have ever seen in a long while. All three feet of scaled nightmare was slightly ahead and almost below me, and was far too much interested in my Fred Astaire antics just above his head. The cutlass was TOO short to reach (my hand would be by my ankles if I fired a chop, my arse waving at the heavens, and overbalancing then falling (a most likely outcome) would be rather awkward - especially if I MISSED.

Understand my predicament clearly. While I believe in "live and let live", Having a three foot long balsain strolling around so close to the house is like leaving a loaded shotgun lying around the house - sooner or later you won't be paying attention and step on it, or some little kiddie will attempt an up-close inspection, and then the question will be "how soon can you get to the hospital". Next year, that bugger will be four feet long... the following year might result in five feet of signed and stamped death certificate... (and I have no wish to meet THAT!)
Even if I wished to let him go in peace, we still had to clear the roadway. The possibility of me (or worse yet, either of my children) meeting him again in the fading light as we hauled large tangled masses of vines and logs off the road was not something I even wanted to contemplate - spotting a master of camouflage ONCE was luck... a second time, the luck would most likely be his.

Getting the kids to stand clear was the EASY part. Cutting and trimming a staff while balancing on a swaying log WHILE keeping an eye on a one-way ticket to Grande hospital is not an act I am versed in. As the possibility of the snake dying in a fit of hysterical laughter existed, I continued my performance. You know, after all that, when I jabbed at the reptile with my new weapon, he thrashed around (with a balsain, that is NOT a sign that you struck him, merely his reaction to being surprised) and ended up right under me (possibly facing the other direction) with only a few inches of his tail showing.
I am most proud of the fact that I did not instantly perform the act that Exlax claims to take 20 minutes... but I almost did.

I couldn't see his head. Moving forward or backward into the vines would severely limit my movement - and not knowing where the end of him that had teeth was, was a major problem. He wouldn't move, despite my yelling, banging, cursing and pleading. He was waiting to see what else I could do - probably idly sharpening his left fang on a handy stone in the meantime.

There was no spear-gun in the vehicle, no nothing... just two little wide-eyed kiddies watching their father do his best not to wet himself down... and the inevitable argument about whether one should lance a snake-bite or not, and where to apply the tourniquet. The only time I ever felt so helpless was on my wedding day - but that is another story.

Then I made up my mind: I was taking that bugger out. I told Nicky to toss me the gasoline container, and Sarah to toss the lighter. (Thank God she found matches instead - I'm not sure how I would have safely accomplished the following with a Bic.)

Gasoline was sprinkled liberally everywhere, and then I ably demonstrated to my offspring how to perform a standing leap, and how not to light a gasoline fire. A lit match was thrown, and the almost-instantaneous surge of flames ensured that I had no possibility of a body-lice infestation.

We spent the rest of the evening dragging singed material off the roadway, using the "come-along" for the larger logs, and the Sportage for the masses of lianas (pass a rope around a few large ones, fasten the other rope-end to the hitch, then drive down the hill, with the mother of all tumbleweeds clearing the road...)

I didn't find his carcass. He most likely is out there, nursing a singed arse and a grudge... I hope if I meet him again, it will be soon, before he adds more inches.
I will make an extra attempt to have a greater area around the house cleared, and use harsher language with guests who think flip-flops are suitable wear...

I thank God that nothing unfortunate happened to me or my kids... I thank God for my father and all that he has taught me about the bush... But MOST OF ALL, I THANK GOD THAT NEITHER CHILD OF MINE HAD THE PRESENCE OF MIND TO USE THEIR PHONES TO FILM ANY OF MY ANTICS...

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big red rice-eater

[spike]

The family came up for a visit, and I tried my hand at barbequing for people I like... (I have done pit-work before, but for strangers - so taste and char were never a bother )
Anyway, no one complained about my sacrificial burnt offerings.



Coffee was given to those who had to make the long journey back to the "salt mines", as we used to say on the CB... My father, though he just has to hoof it to the next valley (1/4 mile away) took coffee anyway, for (like me) he is a registered caffeine addict

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big red rice-eater

[spike]

I know WR will have something to say about this

...the barbeque "pit" in the pictures was built the day before on the estate. I didn't want to sacrifice any of the few drums I have, so I took an old water tank that had been discarded repeatedly...

That needs an explanation. When my parents were building their home, they used a cubical metal water-tank to store water for construction and then home-use... When it got too rusted, it was rolled away and replaced with plastic ones.

When I was building my house, I acquired it, banged off the rust, plugged the holes, and put it back into service. Every time it sprang a leak - which it did quite regularly - I plugged it up with asphalt, wood splinters, whatever was handy. There came a time when I realised that once it was more than two-thirds full, the pressure caused the water to seep between the rust-flakes, springing leaks everywhere... so it lived out its final years holding only a half-tank of water quite happily, becoming incontinent whenever a shower of rain made it uncomfortably full...

When there were more plugs than iron, it was retired from water-storage duties, and served various purposes such as scaffolding, shed-roof support, hailing (you bang the side of it and the folks you are calling immediately appear, asking if you are still sane)...

It ended its days under a tree, next to what was left of my 720, commiserating no doubt about my lack of an employee retirement scheme...

Anyway, I took the old tank out of "storage", dislodging some wasps, various insects, and a disgruntled cat-eyed snake... and proceeded to use a hammer and an old cutlass to trim the only decent side into a barbeque pit... I soon realised that even though a third of the tank had rusted away into nothingness, the rest of it, though severely rusted, was still quite hard. Each hammer lash was only providing an inch of cut - if that much - and there were other things that needed to be done before daylight ended, and my planned pit's dimensions, designed to cope with hearty eaters, were substantial...

Then a thought struck me. (No, it didn't hurt.) I hooked up the grinder and the inverter, and armed with the tools of progress, started once again on the proposed pit... Soon to realise that the little inverter, while it could run the grinder to sharpen a cutlass, was afraid of hard work, and would trip off easily (reminded me of someone I knew, actually )

What to do????

Eureka! A spinning tool was what I required, not so?
The light brush-cutter's cutting speed was close enough to the grinder's... so I made up a spacer using a washer and a piece of a hose, fitted the cutting disc to the brush-cutter, and completed the task with my gasoline-operated 4 1/2" grinder...

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big red rice-eater

[wagonrunner]

[spike]

WR....


Planted 18 yellow breadfruit saplings, some chatigne, west indian cherry, and two sugar-apple... (wonder if that will satiate the bachacs)
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big red rice-eater

[MG Man]

anything bearing fruit yet?
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I know it's so, for I told me so