A PETTY ANNOYANCE

This fortnight, since I am suffering from that most dreaded disease of all short essayists, “writer's block”, I shall take the cheat's way out and use my fortnightly article for the kind of moan that I usually reserve for my close friends and family who live abroad or in the far-flung corners of the Globe, namely New South Wales or even Victoria! No, I do not mean Facebook 'friends', but those I have known for years. I am fortunate enough to still be in contact with one I have known

The Council of this fair and pleasant island has decided in its wisdom to erect two huge fences, blocking off my access to the lovely footpath along South Esplanade. Ferrari is blowing his gasket; well, he would if he had a gasket to blow! A mere fifty metres from home and the pair of us would be racing along the footpath, breathing in the fresh air, admiring the dolphins, pelicans, seagulls, mowing down small children, and generally having the merriest of times! Now, we find it necessary to risk life and limb by travelling on the road, past the R.S. L., past the Bongaree Bowls Club, turning left at the Bribie Seaside

Museum then right at the Zebra Crossing, past the Public Toilets, where some relief may be obtained, in our case, the rejoining of the footpath!

The additional perilous journey adds approximately ten minutes to a simple trip to the local Post Office!

In no way do I blame the Council Workers. I have always found them to be the most courteous, sympathetic, and understanding of beings. The workers are on the spot, they see the problems. If they ruled the world, things would be very different! Perhaps it is the pen-pushers, hidden deep inside their ivory towers, who have never mounted a Disability Scooter, or God help us, a Wheelchair, who make these decisions. And before anyone points out that for some of the way at least, there is a narrow, inclined footpath in poor repair, I for one, do not wish to be tipped onto the road and be pinned in the missionary position by my Italian lover whilst waiting to be squashed by any passing vehicle. I much prefer to have four tyres on the road, whilst keeping a careful lookout in my rear vision mirror.

It was four weeks ago from the time of tapping this out, maybe five, that the work almost began. Why almost? Well, the fences went up speedily enough on a Friday morning, just in time to cause maximum inconvenience to weekend visitors to the Island, inhabitants of the Boulevarde and others, but no discernible action was observed until the following Tuesday, giving me three whole days for my irritation and naughty thoughts to ferment.

Early Saturday morning, Ferrari and I went and examined the fences and studied how they were fixed in place. It seemed a relatively flimsy arrangement, one which even a badly behaved disabled eighty-year-old female could rearrange in order to at least provide access for mobility scooters, wheelchairs, cyclists, and yes, and even pedestrians walking their dogs. I felt that cars could manage the longer route without any major inconvenience.

Yes, it was I who moved the fences, who performed this Wicked Deed! Not for nothing did I partake in Direct Action and Civil Disobedience in my Youth! You cannot keep a child of the Sixties down!

For three whole halcyon days, I provided access to all those previously mentioned. I hang my head in shame! Or was it merely to hide my smile of triumph?

This wickedness was, however, nipped in the bud. A very pleasant man wearing Council Regalia of yellow safety vest and hard hat approached the fences, which had been replaced, and inquired as to which manner he could offer assistance. I asked if he would allow me to move the fences once again. Sadly, he shook his head. I would simply have to take the longer, more perilous route if I wished to escape my home; they were going to dig up the road, creating a large hole, an obstacle that would be insurmountable. On the bright side, he reassured me that the council considered, all things being equal, the weather being fine, etc. that the work would take no longer than six weeks or so.

We are now in the fifth week since they began their work and the latest news from this fine gentleman is that towards the end of next week, large machines will lay down bitumen and given the weekend hiatus, sometime in the following week I might see the removal of the fences! All things being equal, storm and tempest and other Acts of God allowing, access to the seafront will once again be ours. Ferrari is weeping with relief!

One small worry remains; the road directly in front of my dwelling has no kerb or channelling, and the road itself only allows single-lane traffic. All that is required is care, but if the Council has ambitions to “improve” this road they will find an elderly lady and her Latin Lover facing their machines, in TienanmenSquare-like mode, loudly singing that Cowboy Song, “Don't Fence Me In”.

Elaine Lutton