The never ending story meets Neighbours

Life gets in the way of progress just occasionally and it did today in the most delightful of ways.

Not much more than a decade ago (refer the Archives of this blog 2010)  we lived at the end of a short cul de sac, where we enjoyed an extraordinary sense of community with each of the others sharing that tiny street. In some ways it like living a kind of utopian dream of the sort that movies are made about.   The theme song from "Neighbours" rang disgustingly sweetly in our lives.

Just when life could get no better the plot thickened, an evil government decided that a transport corridor would look great running through our bedrooms, and we all found ourselves dispossessed.    Ironically, on the day our sales contracts went unconditional, the project was cancelled or at least postponed for an indeterminate period on the grounds of "damage it would do to the community".

With the damage done, we scattered to the four winds, each of us maintaining contact with many of the others over the years until a week or so again when someone got the bright idea that we should all get together.  And that was today, eight households delightfully reunited for lunch, babbling excitedly away till almost bedtime, just like Fridays used to be, except that it was Saturday.   

We're going to do that again of course.  Someone is already organising a time next year.

Meanwhile back in the garage, the amount of work expands to consume the available time.   That's why when there's a deadline it all seems to work so well so a day lost means a day less work to do.

This photograph was supposed to make a triumphant announcement to the effect that I'd packed away all the woodworking tools, that barring a zillion coats of varnish the wood work was finished, and then I realised there are two parts missing from the picture.   Until we have a deadline, there's always tomorrow.