hey hey, it’s Saturday

With apologies to those who were in Australia in the Molly Meldrum era….

Good day yesterday. Got an article away, better that the two preceding, too, I reckon. One of the problems with writing about what I do, is that some subjects are drier than others. Some form a story, some just end up as a lecture. You have to do ’em all, given that it’s not fiction/entertainment we’re about, but informing (if you’re lucky, in an entertaining way. It makes it even harder, if your message is bitter-sweet.

Anyway, got it done, Slipped away to Interest.co.nz for a couple of interchanges (they’ve been good this week – quite thought-provoking) then on the run to a friend’s place to help them fence a paddock. Re-fence, really. Took my trusted Hayes tensioners, Zeb got given a soccer ball, and had a ball. Looking down the valley, the harbour sparkled, the creek chuckled, geese waddled, trees stirred. Bloody good, and if there’s work better than helping someone out in a practical way, for no other reason than friendship (and knowing unstatedly that it’ll come back if you need it, but that it’s quite alright if it doesn’t), I don’t know of it.

Good apple-cake and bad coffee (I know he’ll read this – he’d run out of real coffee!) then off to pick up Jen. Home, did the animals, left tea simmering, and shot down to the Cherry-Farm pool (it’s owned by a trust, you get a key) which we had to ourselves. Jen is still a fish through the water – we all are – and sometimes I can still see her as she was at Rainbow Beach and Searey’s Creek, back in ’81.

Kim Hill intervied an idiot economist this morning. Reminds me of the Plil Best/ Hugh P types on interest.co, making the entirely mistaken assumption that population is the driver of living-standard. One wonders if, as his car accelerates towards a brick wall, whether he’d brake. On the basis of his logic, one should keep accelerating, as because it’s been all good so far, it has therefore been proven that accelerating will keep you from hitting any brick walls.

There folk are nutters, and I sometimes wonder it there’s genetic flaw involved. A wiring that worked in a linear world, where you had to reproduce as fast and as much as possible, put on fat whenever possible, hoard as much as practicable – to survive.

Anyway – today is finish-the-meat-safe day, fix the tiller-extension day, and we’ve got the anticipation of good company/conversation tonight. Could be worse.

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