Is it becoming more frequent or am I getting less interested in playing these childish games..... But really.

We "cashed" in some reward points in February - expected a delivery within 10 or so days.

Nothing showed.

Gave them a week or so grace, then started the mindless pursuit of the impossible.

Finally got through on the enquiry line - that took nearly 2 hours.

Explained no goods - promised an investigation and a call back in a couple of days.

Gosh what a surprise - total silence.

Chased it up again - got through in half an hour or so - minor miracle. Basically got fobbed off with a transport company and a consignment note. Rang their so called "customer support". Oh yes it's a real consignment note number - but they won't talk to me. A mere customer. No I can go get stuffed - the original supplier needs to talk to them. Not, I hasten to add, the bank with whom we cashed in the reward points and therefore the only organisation with which I have any contact. Somehow or other I have to get the manufacturer of the goods to get in touch with the transport company because the bloody transport company have obviously never even attempted to deliver the blasted parcel.

There's been no card left because we weren't home - there's nothing.

Well done Allied Transport - tremendous concept of customer service. I'll be making damn sure you're not an organisation that we ever have to get involved with again.

So - 1 hour later and I'm still trying to get more than a bloody engaged signal on the bank's customer support number - which, if I can ever get through, will lead to more pointless typing in of account numbers and another wait hanging onto a phone.

Obviously everybody else's time is considerably more important than mine. Obviously I've got absolutely nothing better to do. What a stupid concept that you might actually get some assistance when everybody else screws up. Nah - I'm just the bloody customer.

Whilst early accounts of William Buckley sighting the Geelong Bunyip abound, little has been seen or heard of Bunyips in recent years.

Perhaps this is because many of them now are more benign creatures than those of Aboriginal lore.

The Redbank Bunyip guards our front gate and keeps a benevolent eye over the front yard.

He's also guardian of the bush foods and snacks garden that's slowly going into the front of the main shed - so hopefully he won't be hungry!

It has to be done.

Either that or we'll explode.

It's hard to soar like an eagle when you're surrounded constantly by idiots.

Today's little bit of idiocy was getting 3 dog registration forms from the old Shire we used to live in. (Yes the Shire of Yarra Ranges - the experts in stupidity).

With the address on them changed to sort of our new address - although the postcode they used was for Fairfield in Melbourne, so kudos to the Post Office - they did a bloody fine job figuring out what the twits wanted.

But our options are to pay up (which I suspect is what they're just hoping everyone will do regardless of whether you actually OWE them anything), or we can fill in the back of each form and put them in an envelope and cough up with a stamp and send them back to tell the fools that the dog's don't live in the Shire anymore.

The notices were sent to an address that's not in the Shire.

What - we moved, left the dog's behind but we're still going to stump up for their registration?

And they wonder why the average punter gets a tiny bit liverish with the mindless, time-wasting crap that these idiots serve up on a daily basis.

We've got an experimental few garden plots going in the Vegetable Garden paddock, but it's a bit of a struggle at the moment with the soil horrendously hydrophobic and lacking in organic matter - so we've got some building up to do, which probably isn't worth too much effort as we've sorted out how we're going to do the raised garden bed's even if we haven't actually had time to get started on construction.

In the meantime - box gardening is proceeding apace.

This is the area just outside the side door off the back deck - we've put up a shade sail as it's a very hot spot, but it's convenient being just at the back of the carport.

Plus I can admire Strawhenge - where we've seen "signs" of kangaroo activity, although I've only caught a glimpse of 2 kangaroos early one morning when I was supervising "outdoor dog activities" just on dawn.

The photos are a bit dark - the glare in the background mean the camera wouldn't have a bar of the flash no matter what.

She loves a game of Flying Fox.

Mixed feelings is an understatement.

Powercor's Line Clearers came through today. They did a very tidy job.

But they cut down a bloody lot of trees and there are now big gaps in what was already an area with sod all vegetation on it.

Okay we accept that powerlines and trees are a bushfire risk - so the question has GOT to be asked - why the bloody hell are massive power runs like this sitting above ground? Why are the blasted poles so far apart if movement is a problem? (Rhetorical question obviously - I can spell short-term cost saving nasty stupid daft idiotic foolish tight fisted pig ignorant expediency.)

There's a gap in the fenceline to the south(ish) of the Orchard paddock that's startling wide and it's going to make that area even more poisonously hot than it was last summer, so I'm going to have to work out what the hell I can do about that - we've already got massive amounts of burn off in there from the summer from hell (which is still continuing - it's hot and horrible here again today and we've only had less than 1 ml of rain in the last week or so).

So we've got some mulch - and the place reeks of Eucalyptus smell - but still why the hell we as a society won't suck it up and put power lines and other essential services underground once and for all defeats me completely. (Don't quote "cost" at me - we seem to be able to pull money out of all sorts of orifices for other things - but real / cost-saving / planet saving / stop screwing with the environment stuff.... nah sod that for a joke).

Short term thinking just sucks big time and the bureaucrats who foster that sort of behaviour should be called for what they are.