I can’t believe how much news there is on broadcast TV. And it’s not like it’s the news channel or anything, mum seems to mostly watch channel 7. And while most of it is about the bloody wedding (as it is on every other channel) the mispronunciation and bad English is really getting up my goat!
I almost thought I was being goaded by a oat this morning. I was sitting out on mum’s small patio trying to fix the rotating heads on mum’s vacuum cleaner when there was a sudden ruckus all along the back fence. It went left then right, stopped, then returned to the left, starting all over again. My back was to the fence so I kept missing whatever this ruckus thing was. Eventually I tricked it by keeping my head still. It was, I think, a brush turkey.
Whatever it was, it was mental and had mum chuckling away. She thought it might be a chicken.
Eventually it tired itself out and just collapsed. I managed to get a photo of it between the bushes.
It was a fun little interlude and saved me being too depressed because I couldn’t fix the vacuum cleaner. Not from lack of any skills mind you, but because of a general lack of screwdrivers. Very annoyerating.
Still, I can do it later in the week. Instead we had to get changed and leave because today was for seeing Lorna and Bob at our geriatric lunch (thanks Denise) at the Bowls Club just up the road.
We had a lovely time (I particularly liked the air conditioning because no matter how many times the Queenslanders complain about the cold I just can’t get over how bloody hot it is!) though my grilled salmon had been cooked for about a day too long.
As usual Bob had some fish trawler stories to tell me. My favourite today was how the most desirable fish to catch when he was on the boat was the red snapper but it had to be an average size. Big ones and small ones were not wanted. It was the middle sized ones that all the restaurants and seafood places wanted. The fishermen could set their own prices, he claimed.
ME: But why was that?
BOB: They’d fit on a plate.
I never know whether to believe Bob or not but he does tell a good yarn and it’s so enjoyable that I really don’t care about the veracity.
Just before our spending time outside the house was concluded, I offered to fix Lorna’s phone because, since a software upgrade it had started notifying her every five seconds that she had a new message. She was annoyed because she couldn’t always look straight away. It seems (and I have no idea who would want this facility) that her HTC phone has a setting whereby the user can get the phone to annoyingly keep telling you that you have a message. Forever, I assume…or until you read the message.
Anyway, I managed to fix it and Lorna was well pleased.
Back at home we basically lazed around the house, me just doing ‘stuff’ and mum not really watching the endless news about Harry and Meghan. I overheard far too much of it.
Oh, and today saw the birth of the five millionth Queenslander. I don’t know when they are counting from but I’d assume it starts from the late 18th century rather than 90,000 years ago.
According to the news on Channel 7, this means that growth rises to such an extent that they feel like they have to say it twice (the title of this post is an exact quote). I bet they say PIN number as well. Maybe it’s to match the lowest common denominator in the watching audience. Or perhaps it’s a test to see if anyone is actually listening.
Naw…it’s just dumb.