Last night, Ron came over with his easel and paints, and took the kids through oil painting 101. He's no Jimmy, but he can certainly paint anything that flys. Ron is a twitcher (bird watcher / ornithologist / parka wearer / serious binoculars owner), and among other things, also visits schools with his local Lions Club in Werribee giving lectures on all things bold and beautiful. He gave us his painting of two blue wrens, then took Ollie, Ned and me out to see the mutton birds / shearwaters / moon birds.
These birds are amazing. Landing in their tens of thousands every night from November through to April, when they leave to head back to summer in Siberia, as one does. They live in burrows in the sand dunes, returning to the same one each year, and can live for 4 years on the ocean without going near land.
The kids were rapt with both the painting and the biology lesson. I was happy because Ron also runs his own engineering shop (knows about Furmanite Tony, and also Biland Trading Jacko!), which meant that I got some useful caravaning tips such as let Sara do the parking.
We left Ron and Margaret this morning and drove 60 k up the road to Narrawong. Much nicer park, but again, great neighbours. Very small site, after twenty minutes of fruitless manoeuvers, someone came out and did it for us! Then the hose on the gas bottle blew off, and Darryl replaced the hoses with copper piping. Much safer. Then, he refused any payment, even beer. I could say that was un-Australian, but we'll buy him some chockies tomorrow. Very hot, Sara has collapsed, and I've told the kids to disappear. They've done that a little too easily.
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