[m i a o w] the cat

Our friends from Rosebank arrived late last night, and after a late morning swim, we came home for a lunch of high-piled salad sandwiches - tuna, beetroot, lettuce, cheese, mayonnaise, red onion, tomato… Ian declared that it was his favourite kind of lunch, and it was strange how all the plates of cheese, lettuce etc. gravitated toward him, so by the end of the meal he looked like the sun in a lunch-styled solar system - with all the ingredients orbiting within his reach. The rest of us left him to it.

Then there were some rumbles of thunder, and I ran to check the radar on the BoM site. It has a new style since I last checked it, and although I’m not completely convinced, I am warming to it. The radar showed that we were about to cop a chunky storm heading from Maryborough in a north-easterly direction. Sure enough - by the time M had covered the Humber in tarpaulin and Ian had moved the car under the shelter of some trees, serious sized hailstones were falling hard and fast. They were this big:

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