I have always had a reasonable idea of the steps I need to undertake in order to do something, and the length of time it will take me to get it done. Up until now!
Paul and I decided to leave Queensland's glorious Whitsunday region in September 2006 and retrace our steps 3,000 kilometres south to Geelong in Victoria. We'd left 4 years earlier for warmer climes, a different perspective and whatever opportunities might present themselves. Having decided to return, our house with views of Hayman Island and the Coral Sea was sold within 2 weeks and a moving date set for mid January 2007. Oliver, aging big black dog with frequent flyer points accrued over the 4 years we had lived in the tropics and Hermoine, aging long-haired cat normally happy to remain at home alone when the rest of the family flew south, were both crated up for the final time in December 2006. They left Proserpine in 30 degree tropical rain, had to wait nearly four hours in the extreme heat of Brisbane airport and finally arrived in Melbourne at midnight and 14 degrees. Recovery was quick despite their age. Being officially homeless, they were indulged by relatives and friends while Paul and I flew back to Queensland to pack up the house, wave goodbye to the removalists, put one car on the transporter and drive the other 3,000 km in 3 days.
As rental agencies don't like pets, we decided to buy an old house in an old suburb which would provide basic accommodation for the 12 or so months it would take to build ourselves a new house. The "propping house" turned out to be within walking distance of the "new house", rather by good luck than good management. The "new house" was actually an old house, found by driving up and down evry street in every suburb of Geelong that had sufficient elevation to afford any sort of view of Corio Bay. Pual had often been teased about his penchant for "back-street trawling", a habit developed in his days as a taxi-driver. His encyclopeadic knowledge of the streets of Geelong finally paid off and he found an agent erecting a "For Sale" sighn on a block with a the potential for an excellent view in Ferry Grove, Newcomb. Two days later it was ours - the delay being that Paul thought he had better wait for me to arrive from Melbourne and have a look at the place, before signing on the dotted line. Our next adventure was about to begin!
Ferry Grove
