October 2nd 1983

posted in: The way back | 0

Foster’s sign (the beer I was seeking?)

Not really much of a day to write about today.  I’ve been behind with this bloody diary for something like a month now, only managing to keep the deficit in control by scrawling notes on a scrappy bit of paper.  So today I decided to bring the situation firmly under control – get the bloody thing up to date again.  Had breakfast first, then sat myself down with the thing.  Daydreamed quite a bit – I usually do when I’ve lost interest in what I’m writing,  but still I plodded along, + eventually, at about 5 or so, it was done.  Can’t claim anything too magnificent about the style – basically it was sheer volume I was concerned with.

It was also my turn to cook the tea, + that was really the highlight of the day – not that there was much competition.  We had huge + tasty pork chops with taters, beans + gravy, + Val contributed banana pancakes for dessert.  In the evening, we visited Cairns Folk Club, but they were holding a bush dance.  Normally, that would have been terrific – we would have thrown ourselves into the thing, but tonight we were both lacking in energy. + would have settled quite happily for the Club’s more normal fare.  So we gave it a miss, + headed back to the hostel.  It was only when we were coming in thro’ the gates that I decided I fancied a beer.  It took a good deal of walking round town before I discovered that there was  no bottle shop open, + as I didn’t fancy sitting in a grotty pub, we came home again, + went to bed.

Really am starting to go round in circles, if the major activity to comment upon is the act of writing the diary. And did I get it up to date? Somehow, I doubt it.

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