T's Comeback Blog #3

I work in an a demountable building.

Which in essence there isn't anything wrong with.

It provides walls, floor, ceiling, whiteboards, desks etc…

And it’s not the first demountable building I have worked in.

Actually I believe l was educated in a demountable building or two at the good old Public School I attended. Years 4 and 5…I think... The mind gets a little cloudy if it has to remember pre-teens.

I do recall participating in a tree planting day and being part of a naming ceremony for the “garden” that the school had now just constructed via some very cheap (AKA free) child labour. The garden covered the grounds immediately around and next to the demountables that I believe basically was to try and hide the fact they were educating the countries future in hot tin boxes held up by a few strategically placed brick stacks.

Not that we minded…

And not that any of my classmates (that I am aware of) have become Australia’s next leaders, Noble Peace Prize winners or Branson’esque entrepreneurs.

I like to think many of us may be leading the nation in other ways…

None that really spring to mind at present...

But possibly that little landscaping exercise back in Year 4 could have led a few of us prospering young Australian's into some fantastic “crop” growing side businesses in the years to follow?!?!  

Yet, here I am, 

20 odd, ish (very odd some of them) years later,

again spending my days in a demountable.

The demountable mind you is out in the car park of the business I work for...

And the car park is within a train depot ...

Needless to say - a fairly industrial work environment with no corner office in a flashy highrise overlooking that delightful harbour of ours for this little princess.

The business out grew it’s bricks and mortar building...

So grabbed a couple of demountables and plonked them on some brick stacks out in their car park for us.

Every morning I rock up to work and follow the little pathways from where I've parked...

Along the edge of the car park and rail corridor...

Towards the main building...

Partaking in idle chit chat to anybody else who’s rocking up at the same time...

Chitty chatty chitty chatty...

Whilst following the path around the corner of the main building towards the entrance door.

Which is where everybody else enters…

And where I take a sharp right hook and basically follow the same safety pathway (on the other side of the carpark) back towards where I just came from, that leads me into my real Monday – Friday job.

This little tin box provides many a funny moments. The people I work with, the more I get to know them, the more they resemble characters from my cherished childhood afternoon TV shows like Cartoon Connection that have morphed into real life humans!

There is…

Fred Flintstone

Tazzie devil

Mario

Flipper
Alvin

Mr Snuffleupagus and Cookie Monster from Sesame St….

And randomly, the well intending, yet dysfunctional man in red – The American Hero.

And me.

In the tin box.

In the car park.

Between some of the highlights that my very own live TV show characters offer me, I get to enjoy the delights of the loaded up prime movers as they grunt into town on the main road, 

which is located right next to our 'outdoor office'. If the trucks have some serious honky tonky going on…. the demountable actually shakes from the vibration given off by the air brakes as they swing around the corner.

We open the windows to let some air into the outdoor office.

Come lunch time the tin box is not only filled with our own staleness, but the mixed smells of left over roast dinners, 2min noodles, coffee and home made curries.

Walk into that collection of smells in this warming spring air and it's like walking into Popeye Juniors dirty nappy. Throw in a little bit of coal dust left over from the locos and you've got some crunchie flavouring for the dirty nappy.

With all this lovely fresh air we can now hear the prime movers on the main road…
just that little bit better.

We can hear the shunting of the locos in the yard...
just that little bit clearer.

Because there is nothing worse than missing the sound of tonnes of metal on metal ramming up against one another. For those of you that don’t like fingernails on a blackboard… you’d love this shit!

I take the time to reflect back on the little landscaping project we did back in Year 4 or 5 to make the demountable feel 'homely' and part of the bigger picture'. The garden would now be taller and plush enough to act as a buffer of sorts. A protector of the little tin sheds. And I think how nice that garden would be now, to have around our outdoor office.

Until...
every week...
like clockwork...

When Mr merry friggin garden man (who reminds me of Speedy Gonzales with his wide brim hat and forever happy smile) comes along with his garden vaccumm blower sucker tubular puffer thing and blows the garden debris from the tiny incy garden beds out the front of the main building across the carpark... and blows them away from the main building…

into the carpark…

towards the edge of the carpark…

directly along, under, into and around our demounatble.

Now, there would be enough plants in these “gardens” to fill a Chihuahua's dinner bowl of pot pourie.

And yet…

For hours…

Ennnnnnz ennnnz ennnnnz ennnnnz…..

Ennnnnz ennnnnz ennnnnz ennnnz….

Eeeennnnnnnnz.

Ennnnnnz ennnnz ennnnnz ennnnnz…..

Ennnnnz ennnnnz ennnnnz ennnnz….

Eeeennnnnnnnz.

Seriously Speedy.

You blow any more leaves our way with your constant ennnnnz ennnnz ennnnnzing,
And I will have too delicately peel off that smile from your smooth tanned face and place in neatly in the end of your blower whilst accidentally throwing the friggin thing under a loco.

Lots of love,
love,
love,

To you and your love of gardens...

But Speedy better be quick on his feet next week if I hear a peep of that enz enz enzing!