Let me tell you a story - a true story of torture, discrimination and denial.  No lust, blood or naked virgins but maybe that will come in the retelling over time .... Once upon a time (early November 2005 to be precise) in a sea-change village (Agnes Water)  a little old lady (myself) decided to build a shed upon her land before the new house was started. (You may want to read the reasons in the table below). Therefore, she knew she was equipped to get a shed permit out of Miriam Vale Shire Council in 6 weeks.

So,  Little Old Lady (LOL for the chat room folk) gathers together two of her past professors and they manage to read and largely understand the 27 pages of instructions on how to complete Section A, B, D, E and H of The Building Application Form herein referred to as BA by all except Council folk.  With only one exception, Council  continues to call their own form a DA (Development Application).  Times passes.  Then Agnes Water time passes. Then the phone rings.  A cheery though official voice introduces herself (later known to me as 'The Thorn on my side' ) and suggests a change or two to The Form that will allow The Form to be expedited.  I comply. Times passes.  Then Agnes Water time passes. I get a verbal nod to commence the shed so off I dispatch shed builder to go about his work.  I still want the official written nod though, so I make ladylike  inquiries at Council about the progress of the BA for the shed. I then ask about the DA, realizing my mistake (der!). I later make more direct enquiries as Christmas is approaching and the shed kit will be delivered and the house will be starting right after Christmas and - well - I cannot get behind on my project plan!  But at least the shed is on schedule as the pad is prepared in front of the water tank and the excavator is busy excavating trenches for power and telephone and who knows what (husband turns out to be  top class foreman material - is there nothing this man cannot do well?)

Eventually (I feel I am back in Spain where everything happens... eventually!) I resort to asking my house builder, the ever helpful Mike,  whether he has some contacts in Council that can assist with getting the shed paperwork through. A very frustrated Mike calls me back a day later, he had no more joy than moi!  Next move comes from Council - it seems I have done too much asking and am advised that I will have a (frightened pause)... Stop Work Order .....slapped upon my person if I do not desist immediately if not sooner from shed erection .  I contemplate where the Order might be slapped and whether I may enjoy it and then I have unLOL thoughts about the person's ability to make an erection himself but I say nothing in that vein. And don an earlier disguise that has served me well. Girding of loins complete, I select my weapon of choice (The Telephone) and dial 4974 6222. I speak with seemingly all Council employees excepting the CEO (apparently in Council meeting of more import than my shed, can you imagine!) and the Janitor.  Some duck and weave, others are brave and one will never need a Spine Doctor. My congratulations again to Thorn on My Side who through everything remained helpful and always returned or instigated calls appropriate to her department for the ratepayer.

The eventual successful completion to the Agnes Water Battle of the Shed has been unanimously awarded to Mr Perfect, however.  And to him I award the first Order of Agnes Water (OAW).  His courage underfire deserves more than a mention in despatch. Imagine the scene - me, in full flight, flames emitting from nostrils, armed with  total recall of the Planning scheme (the published one not the in-group clan one of course), the local ordinances, commonsense and a desire not to be played for a twit. Meets largely perfectly  innocent bystander who has the guts to take my call where others had failed. Its time you got the short story because I am planning to write a local play about this as soon as Brad Pitt can find an opening to play the Mr Perfect role.

Short Story:  Said perfect man OAW does reiterate everything I already knew (but hell - that's OK - turns out he is The Lone Enforcer) BUT (respectful pause) he actually has read the Planning Scheme and understood it and (fall on floor in near disbelief) gives the commonsense approach to me for completing my shed before Christmas. I want to leap through phone and cover him with kisses but my husband is watching and frowns on me doing that sort of thing plus it beggars up the phone line for weeks.  I resort to emailing the perfect man with exactly my understanding of what he has confirmed to me (my motto - If it isn't written down it hasn't been said) such that I can immediately restart the shed.  Now wait for this - cos you just are NOT going to believe it from a local authority figure - he immediately emails me back confirming the correctness of my understanding and wishes me a merry Christmas.