[m i a o w] the cat

Having survived Christmas, and, startlingly, Boxing Day, I am now ensconced in trailer life with three more people than normal. We value them exceedingly, as they not only brought many gourmet trimmings with them, but also captured the only keg in the village and installed it on our porch. Last night we played relationship threatening games of Pictionary, where M straddled me in guise of conveying the word ‘Donkey’. I continue to plot my revenge. Today I went out at Woolamai on my board with my other faux surfer friends, M and Gib Jnr (we all have trailer names). It was then that I recalled that I hate learning to surf in anything but perfecto conditions. I’m not going into the details of the rip I tried to challenge, or the cute lifesaver guy that came over for a chat, but I will point out AGAIN that I have the upper body strength of overcooked tagliatelle which renders me pathetic in any but the most serendipitous wave formations. I was happy to extract myself in one piece…

Now back safely in trailer land, we have erected our own beer tent - a big market umbrella draped in fly nettings and positioned to catch the evening sun. The keg is cold, the boys are sunburnt and there is a free range chicken in the oven for those who aren’t vegetarian. Summer is getting down to business.