Written on Friday posted on Sunday

Well since the last posting the digs have undergone a major health and safety inspection. Thank goodness it was done. Constable Care discovered that the kitchen tap was leaking down into the cupboard underneath and hazardously close to a power point.

So I called in Sam the plumber who is very efficient and prompt and fixed the problem with a flick of his spanner.

Now I can stop worrying about that at 3 am. and return to my fear of being reprimanded by my employers for blogging at work, crippling debt, embarrassing incidents starring moi over the decades or waiting for my heart to stop. So many choices, pass me that paper bag now.

This week I have been very productive at work, I haven’t been blogging there for starters and barely emailing. Sunday’s almost shock has transformed me into an uptighter citizen and conscientious employee. I have also changed the time of my daily stroll from after work to lunch hour. It is a lot nicer. I go through Hyde Park and the Domain then down to Mrs Macquarie’s Chair and up to the Opera House then back via the Botanic Gardens.

Very beautiful and generally quite peaceful apart from those herds of corporate heffalumps who jog, grunting and edging you in to the gutter as they stampede their way past - limbed versions of a 4wd. Occasionally I stroll with a companion but I generally prefer to walk alone as I can trip up those brrrutes, my trusty cutlass ever ready, without any witnesses, and catch snippets of other walkers'/joggers' conversations.

Yesterday I heard “he’s short and she’s tall, so…….” and they jogged out of earshot so I naturally concluded that they were talking about the act. Dudley Moore and Susan Anton came to mind and I thought about that coupling from the entrance of the Botanic Gardens to the Boy Charlton pool. Apart from mulling over grabs of conversation that the ears receive, my mind just generally relaxes while marvelling at the trees, the gorgeous sandstone and harbour.

Last night I was out with a party of five to celebrate Lisa’s birthday. We went to see a live performance of Hedwig and the angry inch. I hadn’t seen the movie, had never had any real desire to see it but like Susan and Dud am up for most things and the birthday girl was keen and who was I to rain on her pawade. I have my moments and an invitation is always treasured. The show was quite good. I did get a bit restless at times, occasionally squirmed, towards the end got a bit fed up as I found the jokes rather lame, and when the strobe lighting lasted for ages during the finale I had to close my eyes. Most of the audience gave the show a standing ovation. I couldn’t, I didn’t think it was that good , so p'raps someone’s blogging about that nanna who sat in her chair clapping and sucking on a lemon. I should be so blogworthy. At the time i rationalised, it was a long standing ovation, that i didn't give Pamela Rabe a standing ovation for Mother Courage and she really should have got one. I just hate drawing attention to anyone but myself.

Nevertheless it was a nice night's entertainment.

I have got my third cold in three months. A hat trick of sorts. Am off to the Blue Mountains this weekend.

Love yas.