A Big Earner

I always loved driving through the country to my small country schools.  I'd often listen to a Brisbane radio station as I drove, just so I could hear a Traffic Report.  "The Mt Gravatt-Capalaba Road is stop-start due to an earlier accident, and all cars are being diverted from the Gateway Motorway..."  I sailed past crops and cows, through tiny townships with ancient pubs and small weatherboard houses on giant blocks of land.

Once I saw a fox running across my road.  Another time, I saw a pheasant.  Frequently, I had to go very slowly on the narrow road to one township because I'd get stuck behind a carrot truck.  I was alerted to the presence of the carrot truck a few kilometres before I saw it, because of the orange splodges on the road.  Smashed and squashed carrots.

Then I'd round a corner and see a little truck with an eight-foot deep open container piled extremely high with carrots, spilling bright orange cargo as it wobbled slowly down the narrow lanes.


Most other therapists thought that taking a government car was the best way to go, and they were disappointed if they were forced to take their own car and claim mileage after the fact.  Perhaps they hadn't done the maths involved - taking one's own car was undoubtedly much better.  Where they would complain about the evil nemesis "Wear and Tear" wreaking havoc on their precious cars, I would smugly remember that "wear and tear" basically means you'd take your car in for its regular service a week earlier than otherwise (the cost of the service being more than amply covered by the previous month's kilometric allowance.)

Then one day I worked out how much money my little car brought me for a one-hour trip to one of my country schools.  I compared that figure with what I earned each hour.

And darn it, if my little Ford Laser didn't earn more than I did!