On the edge of the bush

I’m sitting outside a shack-like house, listening to animal noises from the bush, maintaining my phone (backups and upgrades), drinking homebrew (with proper printed labels), waiting for Rotary dinner. Mum is naturally appalled by the location, which is running damp (there’s a small creek eight feet from my chair as I type) but I think it’s really rather fun, and much nicer than our noisy near to Central Station, Sydney. It’s well-located but far from plush. Everything is so expensive, from accommodation to food.