General Guff With Gratuitous Bikini Photo and Some Patriotism

Here we are at the beginning of Term 1, week 3. Mum and Dad have made it back to the frozen northern hemisphere whilst we are knee deep in antipodean life and work.

The weather has been hot and steamy in the wake of Cyclone Yasi, even here in good ole Mediterranean Adelaide! We've been having trouble 'balancing' the pool which has lead Himself to roar, on more than one occasion, "I don't know why we don't just fill the thing in!!!"
Nevertheless, as you can see, the BA and her friends have made it up onto the rocks on at least one occasion of late.

Notable events: I have put on nearly all the weight I lost before Christmas and must seriously make an effort to get back to the gym (if you're going to eat potato you have to RUN IT OFF BABY!!!!!!!!!); the Alma Mater has settled down since the first depressing and infuriating day, all the girls seeming more positive, and the BA in particular is loving her classes. OK, maybe not so much Maths, but at least she is doing it and with 5 girls in the class she can ask for all the help she needs, which is a good thing as my Maths skills stop at Year 10 and anyway I never did statistics and Standard Deviation the first time around. As I recall. Or fail to recall. Which ever way you look at it.

More notable events: we went to the First Night at the Proms with Mum and Dad which was fantastic and funny all at the same time. Every seat had a small Union Jack laid ceremonially upon it so that as the Adelaide Symphony Orchestra cranked up "Rule Britannia', all us ex pats and reluctant UK born Aussies could bellow out "Britaaaaaannia ruuuuules the waaaaaaaaves" with gusto whilst waving our little flags for all we were worth.......

What a hoot.

Afterwards we were treated to the vagaries of Adelaide's nocturnal public transport or lack thereof although the BA assured us that it was just as bad in the daytime, particularly in a northerly direction which bemused us as the tram line is a closed loop. We concluded that there must be a black hole at the end of the line, swallowing 3 out of every 4 north going trains. As we trudged the 500 freezing cold metres between stops with father insisting we wait at every shelter,'just in case it's coming', mother looked gloomily down the road and with her characteristic Eeyore like optimism, commented that there may never be another tram ever again. Or if she didn't, she should have; she probably only didn't because we teased her about it. I can guarantee she was THINKING about saying it :-DDDDDD



And on top of all of that my beloved husband and his workmate (spoken with withering sarcasm) finally managed to restore my email to one address after two weeks, so I could pick up the several dozen communications that I knew must be waiting for me. There were 347 of them.

Having deleted most, I am now ready for bed.
Hope you are enjoying February, wherever you are.