The Home Boss was working and the only mandated decree for the weekend was, “The grass will be cut and yard tidied before I get home on Monday.” Hopper saw an opportunity.
A conniving plan was formed. I knocked off work early, fired up the Victa and battled the mozzies and long grass into Friday evening to free up the weekend for a blast in the bush. A late-night call to Ruth at Bundarra’s Commercial Hotel locked in accommodation, a tooth-brush and a spare pair of undies were packed, and all was set for an early start.