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.