I could set my calendar by the date when our gas boiler dies — it’s been the same date for five years. In the first fortnight of June, at the first sign of Tasmanian temperatures, the gas boiler says “nup — had enough now”, and gas repair people are the unicorns of winter.
Yes, I know I should get it serviced in February; yes, I know I’ve only got a log fire, which heats just one room; and yes, I know the Earth goes around the sun and now it’s our turn to get cold.
But hey, look, I’m a plein air painter, a pretend actor, a very struggling musician, a confused philosopher, a silly grandparent and the owner of an old, deaf, partially blind and equally confused dog.
I have other things to think about. Arranging the annual service of a gas-fired water heater four months before the start of winter does not find space in my crowded mind.
But I try to find the good in every situation. And after 40 years in journalism spent peering into the dark and delirious heart of humanity, I’ve had a lot of experience in looking for the good.
So, the good thing about a gas heater not working at the start of winter, is that you don’t have to spend money on gas.
Over the past two years our winter gas heating prices have risen astronomically — just like everyone else’s.
A few years ago, we could expect monthly winter bills of about $150. Now it costs more than $400 a month to heat our small house during winter. That’s about $100 a week to stay warm. Good grief — that’s more than my champagne bill.
Now to the inevitable question: why are our gas prices so high? To understand this, it would help to have a doctorate in geopolitical science or at least a masters in laissez-faire government.
As far as I can work out, the simplest answer to why gas companies get away with charging so much — is that they can.
It’s got nothing to do with a gas shortage; Australia has vast quantities of natural gas, but the gas companies export 80 per cent of it to make super profits on which they pay little to no tax. The previous government did nothing about this and now the system is embedded in the economy while the present government plays catch-up in the race to replace fossil fuels with renewable energy.
That’s the simple answer. The more complicated answer involves rising commodity prices, the war in Ukraine and the fact we are caught in that painful no-man’s land of changing eras — we can’t let go of the old until we move into the new.
Anyway, down here on Earth in my house it means keeping the log fire going 24 hours a day, wearing big jumpers and drafting confused household budgets on how to transition from gas to electricity.
I’m starting with a cold glass of champagne and a slow, renewable dog-walk. That always warms me up.
24°C