THURSDAY DEC 12TH - WALLAROO.... part 2 -
I slept like the defunct, luxuriating in a bed that didn't move, in a room so quiet I swear I could hear Dave thinking about snoring and it felt great, even though the ground itself didn't stop rocking any time at all over the next couple of days. Curse my ear bones and their arthritically inert readjustment to stationary dry land.

Jeff and Carol, who had both grown up around these parts, took us out for a late 'breakfast' (cakes with custard, cream, calories and couldn't-care-less and coffee) and a really pleasant sight-seeing tour of the nearby towns of Moonta, Port Hughes, and Kadina. It was very interesting to be shown some of the history of the mines and to drive around and see the huge changes that were taking place in that entire region. It was also interesting to hear their narratives and memories and I found that it piqued my curiosity to one day delve deeper into the history of the Copper Triangle.

We bought some fishing gear, crab bait holders and odds'n'sods and just pottered about. We did lunch (Cornish pasties all around) and then went back to the house for a cuppa before going back into town to do a bit of food shopping.

Our shopping didn't take long and so while we waited for Jeff and Carol, Dave and I sat in the glassed in outer foyer to Woolworths and just chatted. The area was about 6 metres wide and about 2 and a half metres deep, with full glass windows behind us, a couple of benches in front of the windows and some potted plants. At each end were sliding glass doors and there was another double glass sliding entry door into Woolies. Dave and I occupied one of the benches, which faced the main door entry. About 3 metres from outside of the right hand door was another main entry/exit to the store.

Now you, dear reader, may be wondering why I went into that whole description but this is where I set up for an unexpected occurrence of the cute kind. As we waited, someone entered through the door to our right but when they went past we noticed another movement, a tiny little furtive dash through the door and along the wall where the double doors were. Initially it appeared to be a mouse, and he was intent on exploring. A woman with two kids entered the left door, saw it and said 'step on it!' which I thought was a tad barbarous. The tiny rodent hesitated then darted underneath the bench on which we sat and tiptoed around the back of the glassed in area. The woman moved towards the double entry doors and as they slid open, the 'mouse' made a dash, well actually more of a teensy series of rapid bounces than a mad scampering dash, and suddenly found itself inside the shop. By now other shoppers had noticed it and watched with interest as the little creature skirted its way along the near wall where the main door was and straight out the other entrance that was further along. The diminutive daredevil had had over 5 minutes of big adventure! Dave and I watched the whole scenario with utter fascination and delight as we realised that, with the way it moved, the tiny cutie was not just a mouse, but a native hopping mouse. What a wonderful and unique happening at a most unexpected time. :D When Jeff and Carol appeared we had a great tale to tell them.

Back at the house we set some crab nets (loving crab, I was hopeful of taking some with us) from the pontoon. Every 15 minutes we checked the net and I was totally chuffed when the first one we pulled up was legal size. The trouble was, every other one I hauled up was small, so eventually, after several hours, I ended up giving the single crab its freedom on account of it wouldn't have been enough to feed a flea on its own. I managed to catch another decent sized one soon afterwards but also released that one on good behaviour. Suffice to say, we didn't stock the fridge with crabs.

Jeff fired up the barbecue for dinner and a sumptuous spread of sausages, chops, chicken and salads. Scrummy dinner and a dishwasher took care of the dishes. Yesssssss.

Now, when we went to bed at about 11pm, that should have been the end of the night but it seems that we're not immune to the odd mishap even on dry land in the middle of the night when all good people should have gone sleepy boboes.....

It was quite a warm night but that wasn't going to keep me awake. As we settled down for another peaceful night's sleep and drifted blissfully towards unconsciousness, the annoying dentists drill whine of a mosquito broke the tranquility as readily as a bucket of cold water to the face. Though we swiped blindly at it in the dark, slapping our own faces and uttering the occasional 'ow' when the slap was misguided, the whine continued so eventually it was lights on, out of bed, thong at the ready and quietly on the hunt because Jeff and Carol's bedroom door was only about 20 feet from ours.

The mozzie was easily spotted and satisfactorily splattered. Light out and almost asleep when suddenly a piercing whine assaulted my ears yet again. Crap, another one! Out of bed, light on, squinting at the brightness, eyes peeled. Once again the hunt was on and once again, after a minute or so, a satisfactory result ensued. I closed the one window that was open, despite the fact that it had screens, just in case they were coming in there.

Again I was close to reaching a near sleep state before we heard it again, the insistent, malevolent whine of not one, but two of the bloodthirsty little buggers. Slap, slap, ow, slap, d'oh!! By now it was 1am and it was getting ridiculous. Aaaaaggghhhhh! Lights on and more whispered hunting. Soon one was one spotted and dispatched, but the other was above and to the side of the bed and the bedside table, high up on the join between wall and ceiling. Hmmmm.... a dilemma.

Apart from the bed and bedside table, the room had a blanket box measuring approximately 1.2 metres wide by 50cm deep by 75cm high. Dave felt that there was the solution to reaching the elusive mozzie. Standing in his jocks, grasping the thong and with one foot on the blanket box, one foot on the bedside table, mozzie at rubber slap's length away, he was all set to strike. No worries.

All went well for about 15 seconds until he lunged at the evil little blood sucker. Suddenly the blanket box, which he hadn't realised had castors, moved away from him and he lost his footing. A muffled yell, a crash and what had been a 3D, fairly solid wooden box just seconds before was now effectively a flat-pack. Ikea would have been proud.

As he peeled himself from the flattened container and tried to avoid the nails that were protruding from every angle, we were both incredulous and for a moment, completely dumbstruck. I checked him over for damage. A large graze marred his back and a 6" nail scrape, which was slowly welling with blood, had appeared just behind his left knee. We looked at the remains of the box and at the two cushions that had, until recently, been contained within. We looked at each other. We looked once more at the box, I said, oops and then we did the only thing that was left to do. We sat on the bed and giggled until tears streamed down our faces. It was hard to giggle and not make noise but that just made us giggle even harder. After about ten minutes our wits finally returned and we once again looked at the damage, both to the box and to Dave. He had actually been lucky. Luckier than the box he'd killed.

Eventually we settled down, (actually we did have to deal with a few more mozzies before they had all been dispatched) and Dave went to sleep with tissues pressed against the cut on his leg so that he didn't bleed on the sheets. This was certainly one thing we hadn't expected to have to explain to Jeff in the morning. Oh well.... shit happens. :) Tomorrow is another day.....