If you'd like to look at a bunch of photos with captions you can flip over to my Picasa web account where I've just learnt to shift photos online. The address is https://picasaweb.google.com/115941015095749968181/CapeGeorgeWeek1May3To102011?authkey=Gv1sRgCIKXtI-u4aKfSA#slideshow/5605284375923468322
Can you imagine how many billions of photos are now online? And isn't it amazing how modern cameras make even idiots like us look like professionals? Well, not quite but you know what I mean. It's a bit like everyone having Andy Warhol's 15 minutes of fame: everyone has one good photo in them.
So, here we are in Cabin 2 of 3. DC is turning it into a home. The ancient little woodstove burns Michael’s softwood saw waste and needs to be attended to every 15 minutes. It’s a lot better than burning peat, I can tell you from my very limited experience with trying to burn dried roots. Someone who’s really Irish can maybe fill me in on the virtues of burning little cakes of roots which look much like dried cowdung. Is it the smell? I’ll take the heat over the smell anytime.
DC’s food is great, of course, and this is our priority. This is first-class pioneering , pioneering with Michelin stars. The place may look a bit rustic but you should be here at mealtimes. Michael has so much to do that he has a tendency to leave things lying around like in a tinker’s camp. Like the truck he’s parked at the entrance to our estate for cannibalizing. Very elegant, very country, he said reaching for his banjo and hoicking up a large bolus of tobacco honk.
The big event of the day is the arrival of two linemen to connect our hydro to the main wire supplying Michael’s cabins. The older man on the ground is very chatty. Turns out he’s a builder, a carpenter by choice, lineman by profession. By the time they leave, after a lengthy chat, we are connected. The garage has four sets of double fluorescent lights and a dozen outlets on the 30 by 30 walls.
Electricity! This is progress
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