21 October 2026
Wednesday. Someone found me diary. It was nailed to the inside of the dunny door, where any sensible man keeps his memoirs, and now it’s going on the internet.
I have decided to be gracious about it. The public deserves to know me. The real me. The man behind the axe, behind the house tour, behind the gum tree, where I mostly stand these days.
So, a welcome. In these pages you’ll find the comings and goings of my beloved dunny, the tourists who got out, the tourists who stayed in a bit longer than planned, the brilliance of Bev, the loyalty of Smoko and the ongoing disappointment of Kev.
What you won’t find is how to get out of my dunny. I’m not telling. A man’s outhouse is his castle, and you don’t publish the plans to your castle, even in a very good diary.
If you want to see her for yourself, the management will sort you a booking in Manly or in Perth. Bring a torch for your nerves. I’ll be out by the woodpile, whistling.
— Huge Axeman
