What? Who's memory?

Dear Family

Just like house work which if left for a week quickly turns into twenty minutes work, skimp on a blog and in no time there’s a blog jamb. Thank Nigel there are others responsibly taking care of recent births. Where to start is a problem and it’s too late for chronological order as over such a long span all memory of that’s long gone. Alice and Jack, ably assisted by the Rudd Government , remembered their paper anniversary suitably with books and art, while Jack assisted by Alices’ nepotism had published a delightful ode to love at the back end of one years marriage. Those of you interested, jealous or merely curious enough should check it out in Women’s Health December 2008, page#96 if you wish to devour it at the newsagency and avoid paying the A$6.95 which one way or another may turn out to be the last straw in these troubled times. Go to page #158 for more nepotism with Jungle Janes gardening tips.

I made personal contact with the exploding customer at Bunning’s and discovered in my ability to jump backwards the remnant of an adrenal gland I thought long gone. I marvelled at the soporific effect that Laurie the relief manager had on this dude whom I would have handed to the paramedics with their straight jackets and syringes. Watching him in Laurie’s gentle dispatch some twenty minutes later like a temporally lost child with dummy replaced was awe inspiring. I’m not claiming complete innocent in lighting this lad up but as any of the less than ten fingered fire working folk will tell you “who knows how short a fuse”.

Whoo! Chronology is the missing link from most writings don’t you think. Here it is eight thirty Tuesday night as I wake in alcohol addled fright to the certainty of a blog unfinished and destined to wait another week if not now completed. ‘No greater love does one man have than that he give up his Tuesday night to the blogging pleasure of his fellow’ that’s how Dickens would have put it had he a blog. Spent the afternoon in the company of Shara (first ex wife) at the delightful Exchange Hotel, Circular Quay where after a bottle of wine she decided without any encouragement (I swear) that the best thing to do was another. She had a fractured toe after all and remaining sedentary in proximity of the Manly ferry made sense don’t you think? She’s well (apart from an obviously sore toe which readers may recall I regard with some seriousness) and sends her greetings to all who might remember her.

Unfortunately (or not) for you the cleaners have been in and erased my memory of any drivel that I might have dredged and I’m left with little other than future prospects such as next weeks long awaited BBQ at Megan my work colleagues place and the work Christmas party, which I have generously agreed to attend in company with Alice this year, on the following weekend. Let’s not hear that any economic strictures could dampen party enthusiasm in the emerald city.

Yes, you guessed it, that’s all for this week. Cant wait for the Christmas festivities and I think I speak here for Alice also.

Love from Aunty

Following please find an essay entitled ‘there but for the love of Nigel go I’


These small critters are soooo vulenerable

Steal me and I'll scream

Are we but memories

I didn't say that