Well this is my story anyway

You can't imagine the pleasure as, half shickered on Saturday evening at the end of an hysterical final to the series of Doc Martin, I realise that I am in possession a virginal Spectrum with its up to date programme for tonight's viewing. Now last week's edition in which only this morning I was fossicking for the last of words that might within their sentences provide meaning in the gap between sleep and the return to work's wakefulness, can now be recycled.

This time last week we were having a wonderful time in Goulburn celebrating Christopher's sixtieth birthday. More than half shickered then and in no need of The Herald, the news section of which I doggedly clung to weekend long, I was the life of the party. I learnt this was so as I slowly regained a sorry sobriety on Sunday and gradually absorbed the gentle and sometimes sharper jibes of that days returning crowd. It was not unlike those times in the sixties when I learned not to admit to the void that had replaced my recollections of the previous nights activities which my comrades might, no certainly would, gleefully invent.

Not even the photos could convince me that I was anything other than reliable good fun. Yes maybe loud, OK overbearing, but my fly was not open all night. Once yes, the rest was just poor K Mart tailoring.

What a lovely sun kissed weekend it was. All the dire warnings of sub zero temperatures, frost and even snows were dispelled by the balm of this outdoor sun shiny weather. Even the dawn could do no better than a pea soup fog in which Dorothy and I managed, holding hands, not to get lost.Timing's the trick and we timed our departure perfectly as storm clouds gathered through which our train took us in confident comfort.

Stephen was the surprise guest, looking the image of a western Australian. It's hard to believe that he travelled all this way without checking on his prised possessions in my trust. Maybe the Balinese coffee table and king size bed do not prey on his consciousness as they do mine. Just goes to show how much he trusts me I suppose and at the same time gives me that much more time to restore or at least worry about restoring them. Thank Nigel he doesn't participate in this forum.

Yesterday we participated in a surprisingly well attended and vibrant family day presented by Hugh at the Sydney Australian Rules Club, better known as The Swans, in Kings Cross. Just like Hugh The Swans feel that the fountain is the heart of Sydney and the Fountain Cafe (also known as the office) embodies Sydney culture. Now with The Bourbon incapacitated by flooding, some of which can be attributed to The Swans if you believe local gossip, Hugh and his neighbours have moved their allegiance one more door down the street to The Swans, next stop Les Girls or whatever they call that these days. You 2020 participants in the institution of 'O'Keefe's Family Day' can expect to be celebrating at The Kurd English Literature Association more recently known as 'Pokies Strip Club'.

As you are beginning to see these are busy times for your correspondent. Next week on Saturday I have been invited to celebrate Alice's birthday with her young friends. Then on Tuesday I embark on a Journey to Lismore for my fifty year high school anniversary. the next weekend will be landmarked by Alice and Jack's election party where Gabby will unfortunately not be in attendance owing to her habit of being an election day bridesmaid.

That's enough boredom from me for now, you will all have to retreat to your favoured drugs for sleep.

Oh I forgot my camera at Goulburn so you will just have to troll facebook for evidence

R