Well it was good ol' F to the rescue with my small dilemma of how to get both Lars and the Honda home from Nerang. It was very kind of him especially as he had a full night last night - going to his father's for dinner and then off to work with the hotel job. It wasn't helped by his having slept in. But his plan with the boys is bearing some fruit and Lu is currently working the hotel job with him which will give them some nice bonding time - and L a little extra cash, the feeling of a job well done and, we expect, withdrawals from his late night computer and/or studio sessions. It was interesting to hear F speaking about L's music the other day and that it was an area in which he felt he couldn't help him progress; eg if he'd chosen to be a professional golfer at least he could have helped him get sponsorship.
I am still wondering how Uncle R managed to put tyre tracks through the lawn (near the horse wash). It detracts a little from the enjoyment of the Colorbond moments and I don't think there's much we can do with it although I am going to experiment with a grass "comb over" to see if that works. (A conductors we worked with in a SUMS concert had one and at the end of one particular performance - so vigorous had been the execution - that his hair was no longer draped artistically over so much as alongside his head.)
Unwillingly to see a "good" idea quashed, the Turf Club is determined to dispute Queenslad Racing's veto of the "Fillies Stakes". It would be interesting to know if it would be different if racing were not the "Sport of Kings"? If it were the "Sport of Queens" would the proposal currently on the table be for Speedo-wearing jocks to line up in the barriers and race it out? Or could all be involved - guys carrying gals or vice versa in the inaugural horsey-back race? Hmmm - perhaps it's best to leave the thinking to the professionals especially as they are trying to find ways to counter the half million dollar loss the Club reported for the last financial year and increase racing's popularity on the Coast.
There's been no word from J so chances are good that she will come tomorrow. S was wondering if she will want to revert to a weekly turnaround which could be a bit difficult given K does such a great job on the alternate weeks.
Someone was joking the other day that with Christmas fast approaching (less than 100 big sleeps now) they could get a job as Mrs Claus - I'm not sure if this was as well as or instead of the mobile dog washing business. But it might not be such a silly idea especially as there is a national Santa shortage with 30 unfilled positions on the Coast alone according to local media. It's a shame to think of all those children rolling up to shopping centres to have their photos taken with someone from the Claus family and having to settle for a little 'elf help instead. It's unclear whether this is a contributing factor to the shortage or just wanting to make sure people know the job specs up front but only jolly, chubby men -- without a criminal history - need apply.
Unwittingly, it was an incredibly late night tonight. After sending off some recommendations for someone keen to get a new camera, I retired to bed to join the others (not all in the one bed or bedroom - the kids were sprawled out on couches, a human bed and dog bed down the back) and I just could not settle. Light on, do this, light off, light on, do that, light off ... until finally I had settled into a half sleep when this voice beside me says (and I may be misquoting) "Don't tell me you can't smell that!". In truth I couldn't which only goes to prove what we have long know ... no sense of smell. At this stage, knowing I had to be up in 5 hours for Brisbania, I was uncharitable and made no move toward what I guessed must be the soiled litter tray. So up S got ... "do you want me to do it?" I asked, hoping the answer would be no so I could concentrate on trying to put myself to sleep. I blame the fact that we were talking about sleeping patterns with J last night - and we were saying how quickly I fall asleep ... hmmm ... not tonight. So S valiantly cleared the tray and as she took the baggie outside who should bolt out the open door but Emma! Did I mention that by this stage it was half-midnight? Lap lap lap lap ... breath ... lap lap lap lap ... breath ....lap - was what I heard as I concentrated on trying not to do embarrassed laughter as - and then Emma was picked up and carried inside to a perfectly good bowl of water! It will be interesting to see how S remembers it because I know it wasn't only just a dream.
