Minnie, Minnie …

I’m on edge. Minnie is dead quiet 99% of the time, but she likes to know where I am and gives single barks if she can’t see me. When I go to the shower block, she can’t seem to realise that I’m only 50m away and out of sight. She’s quiet for the first 5 mins but then starts barking.

As I came out this morning after my shower, the park manageress came up and said someone has complained. I said I’m doing my best and she seemed sympathetic, but what else can I do? As I said, 99% of the time she’s silent. I could easily complain about other people too, as I wrote yesterday. I’m very nervous.

Barry called this morning and due to next Monday being a public holiday, I may have to come up to Perth on Tuesday to get a bank cheque to pay for the house. But I’ll be back at the farm then, so Minnie will be OK. I go back there this Friday, Good Friday. It will be good to get out of this place.

5pm: Aaaah. I’ve bought a steel framed canvas director’s chair to sit at my wobbly plastic table. The plastic stacking chairs were incredibly uncomfortable, digging into my thighs. Now I can work in some comfort.

It’s looking very cloudy outside. I hope it rains, but I hope it doesn’t thunder. Minnie can’t bear thunder and I obviously can’t bring her inside.

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