My sister bought a house in Atherton that was to be removed from the site of the new exiting shopping centre development.
looks a bit rough on the outside but has rare local timbers inside.
so she moved it to her farm on the outskirts of town. I was the official photographer for the occasion.
which meant phoebe came and collected me from home and woke me up the next morning at 5am. still dark. in the middle of town, about twenty men on the job. with the house waiting on the back of a truck. police escorts, tree-loppers, men from the electricity board to hold up power lines, the house mover/truck driver and his escorts. they have two watchers out front making sure it’s not gonna hit anything.
lots of trees got pruned. lots of road signs got cut. lots of men running around with reflective vests on. lots of people watching. I was running around taking photos, pretty oblivious to everyone. it was relayed after that I caused quite a stir in my red boots and short shorts. apparently I got offered a couple of lifts. “who’s the girl in the pixie boots?, there’s a spare seatbelt in my ute”. the truck driver had one too. I would’ve loved a ride in the truck!
but I can’t really understand men, they must said it in another language, as like I say, I’d like a ride in a big truck.
anyway, then they crossed a little one lane bridge on Beantree creek. three times the width of it, knocking over all the guide rails as they crossed.
Now they have two houses. one for her & mick and one for the boys and their drumkit. it was cemented in in a hurry because of the threat of cyclone Ingrid. which bought us nothing but a lot of rain. so much that the phone line has been down for 5 days now. no contact with the world outside. no internet. imagine that. isolation. pouring, relentless rain. gotta get to a girl sooner or later. sorry miss kate I couldn’t call you.
rock n roll dreaming... like never before.