The original yurt plan had fallen through. But the Yurtworks could do us a good deal on an alternative if we wanted to proceed now. We decided that it was time to move up market from our tin shed and hang the consequences. We would have a yurt with windows right across the northern side and a few annexe modules for kitchen and laundry-cum-bathroom attached around the south. Local government regulations, new since we chose our house site, insisted we should be at least 100m from the river. This limited us because we were surrounded by river and put us near big manna gums and on a slope which would require us to have the dwelling on variable length props. This we argued positively would be safer in a flood. Before building could start, local council would have to approve the plans and the site. This could take some time as they didn’t get out our way often.
In two months our yurt arrived not on a yak but on a big truck. It was 7:30 am and minus 7°C. I had told the erecters that they might need long johns and definitely not to wear shorts if they wanted more kids. Jeez, it’s frigid said one climbing out of the vehicle. We unloaded the truck in about half an hour with them placing the components in a knowledgeable way around the site. The empty truck turned around to leave up our lane. The wheels spun and the truck drifted sideways into a fence. I’ve only got enough beds for three I said.
You got a tractor with a chain? That was the nicest question I had ever been asked. I trundled off to get the Red Dragon. Within 5 minutes, almost lost in tractor smoke, the empty truck was on its way stopping for nothing till it reached the road.
Somehow or other the rectangular sheets of plywood pinned down on joists on the variable height props turned into a flat round floor and we could sit on it for lunch in the chill wind and watery sunshine. They had to keep moving they were so cold. The walls modules were raised, arranged to complete the circle and fastened through the floor with hex bolts and held vertical with the odd plank temporarily nailed to the floor. They were thirsty.
Despite the cold they all wanted cold beer and absolutely nobody would join me in a sensible room temperature shiraz. He reckons we’re poofters said one. John and Jill had offered warm showers at their place. This was an opportunity for a yarn and a few beers. Jill made encouraging noises to stay for a meal and a beer which was accepted. About 10 pm they made their way back to the tin shed and its roaring fire. After a few beers they would go to bed. I escaped to the frigid caravan.
At 7 next morning they were already working on the roof. It was warmer. Jeez I had the shits last night said one. Must’ve been something I ate. I was delegated to go the 160 km round trip into Cooma to get some bits they had forgotten for sealing the roof and could I get another three cases of beer for tonight. They reckoned they could manage without me for a little while, at least till morning tea. I got five cases for if we were snowed in.
I got back with the goodies and some cake things for morning coffee. All but one of the roof triangles were balancing precariously on the wall modules and propped up with sticks at the pointy end. The last triangle wouldn’t squeeze all the way into the circle. Some fit perfectly, some are real bastards said the boss man. Sometimes we have to take the bastard down and start again. Out came an extremely large hammer called an enforcer and this was delicately applied to various roof sections that budged a little and progressively the cake became a whole. The steel rope around the structure pulled the circle in tight, the whole creaking and complaining. Hex bolts did the pinning and lunch was held in a good-humoured group under the big top. The boss lay down and went to sleep.
After lunch annex walls were erected, their large rooves pinned down and attached to the central circle and it all looked finished. It was time for a beer. They kindly invited me to tea in the shed. One of the guys had brought a huge and raging curry with him that just needed heating up and the rice preparing. This time the beer had a purpose. I told them to piss on the trees and not in the toilet which was flowing over from last night. I left them about 9 pm to complete their business. They still had a case to crack.
Day three was a small one, tidying up the structure and weatherproofing the roof. They left at 4 pm saying how much they had enjoyed themselves. Sadly, a few months later the cook died from a heart attack.
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