Out with the old

How are we all? Excellent, that’s excellent. Over here we’re lurching like the drunken slobs we are into autumn. In dramatic fashion the weather changed dramatically on the very day that summertime officially ended. It was almost as if someone had cued up the next record and faded it in rather too quickly. So we went from mid-30s one week to low-20s the next. It was warmed up a bit since then, but the lows are getting lower and the highs not so high.

The Sprog …
Lord only knows the sprog has come out with some funny shit over the years, but he came out with an absolute cracker today. He’s sitting at the breakfast bar and we’re T-Minus 10 minutes leaving to catch the school bus. As usual, and as I suspect it is in most families at about that time, things are fairly chaotic. So Liz says to the sprog, “Do you know where your trainers are?” The sprog looks Liz in the eye and says in a very grown-up fashion, “As a matter of fact, yes.” Liz and I look at each other in surprise, but before we’ve had chance to draw breath, he says, “But if they’re not where I think they are, then no.” Fucking genius.

Anyway, the big news for Jack is that he was elected onto the student council by his classmates. Now Jack didn’t go looking for this role, didn’t volunteer for it or anything, so I reckon it’s pretty darn cool that his peers decided that they wanted him to represent them on the council. Jack attended the first meeting last week and got a very cool badge to where. They also had a team building exercise which didn’t sound terribly dissimilar from the one I did in Bondi last year. Jack thoroughly enjoyed himself – I told him to make the most of it, because it got very old after your 10th time building bridges across ‘rivers’ with office chairs, a plank of wood and some rope.

Work …
Well yea, work’s fairly shit at the moment thanks for asking. Not much enjoying travelling up three times a week and my boss has been behaving like a bigger cunt than usual. Which is saying something believe me. I take some solace from the fact he’s pissing off on holiday in a week for nearly six weeks away from the organisation which is his life. So look out Europe, the UK and Ireland – there’s a chain-smoking slaphead wanker heading your way who has all the good grace and social manners of a rabid doberman.

Now you know why I anonymised the blog.

Some footage …
Put together some of my photos in a slideshow using iPhoto and have uploaded it to YouTube. Nothing too flash, just a bit of local colour.