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Boy in ute

So we scarpered on down to the farm to collect the fridge. That sounds so simple and would have been, had not the sparky texted as we were sitting in the drenching Friday arvo rush-hour out of Sydney to say he’d be there the next day to transfer the solar panels from cabin to shed. This is a project that’s been in the “pipeline” (to dragoon a term from the Berejikianistas) for a while. Like, a year. 

It’s a good idea, since it involves shifting the twelve SPVs and battery etc from the tiny, low-pitch east-west roof of the cabin, which is cedar and therefore fire-prone to shed, which is steel, larger, steeper and  pitches due north. It might have seemed something of a luxury, had we not actually run out of power a couple of times after a succession of cold and rainy days. So, it had to be done. But the upshot was we not only had no coffee – the power being off – but no comms. No phone, no internet, no nothing. Surprising how helpless this makes you feel. 

Men, roof, SPVs, fog

So, sans coffee, sans email, we loaded the fridge onto the back of the ute. This in itself was no small feat and keeping it there, across dirt roads deeply corrugated by drought, deluge and prolonged council neglect, was even more challenging. The tradies laughed at us city kids, trying to lash the thing securely. But, we did it. We got it here, and we even got it under the concrete beam…. you can see it came within (I swear) 5mm of scrapign the top off the Fisher and Paykel. Now all boxed up and ready for the big day tomorrow. Seeya Newtown.Hello Glebe! 


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