Crap in a jam jar

On the way from Caloundra to Burleigh we almost ran into a dustbin. Fortunately Fiona dodged it with all the finesse of a gazelle avoiding a lion. No one in our car knew where it came from but, suddenly, it was there then, just as suddenly, we’d avoided it. The guy driving behind us crushed it. It could have had any number of children in it. I think it was empty. At least I hope so.

We were driving back from Mirinda and Fiona picking me up and having brunch with mum. We walked down to my favourite cafe for their brilliant eggs Benedict and coffee.

We managed to get seats on the verandah overlooking the water, a rare occurrence, and had a lovely brunch…although it was nearer to lunch than breakfast. We had a lovely hour or so chatting the morning into the afternoon before walking back to mum’s place then, finally heading south.

The conversation during the trip home was all about the many useless drivers in front, behind and beside us. It was extraordinary how bad the drivers were, particularly the truckies who were dodging in and out of traffic like Norwegian skiers on an Olympic slalem course.

Fiona, however, managed to get us safely to Burleigh by avoiding Logan (apparently she and Mirinda accidentally came up via Logan which has the highest percentage of unemployment in Oz and therefore only exists for not working) though we did talk about the Logan Bogans quite a bit as we zoomed by.

While it was a long drive, we were finally sat on the balcony drinking beer and wine and listening to Bob’s story about a young lad in Angledool who had the remarkable ability to do a poo in a jam tin…in a paddock. Now that is extraordinary.

At some stage, Fiona took me back to their house to show me around (because I’ve not seen it yet and, apparently because the kids wanted to see me) and feed me a lot of alcohol. I rather liked seeing the kids because I do enjoy being the bad influence. I feel like I’m passing on something from the bad influences in my youth (thank you Uncles Les and Ronnie). Anyway, Yellowglen fizz aside, eventually Andrew came home all fireman in his uniform (the first time I’ve seen him looking all official) and we all piled into the car and headed back to the apartment.

Dinner was at the surf club – the fish was a bit overcooked and, therefore unidentifiable – and we were very loud and raucous…or was that just me? I’m not sure but they did seem to close awfully early. In the meanwhilst, Lauren and Jason went to the end of the beach and climbed a hill. I don’t know why but I figure it’s because I’m a bad influence.

That was pretty much my day…and here’s the video…

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