Hello, home

Well, that was a very lovely week.

Pretty, pretty, pretty week.

It's a real shame I lack the technical skill to show you how shut-up-and-sit-down beautiful the country I live in is. (I also made the sensational decision to leave my picture-taking to the very last day, when it was overcast.) (Overcast for an Australian summer, that is.)

I did a lot of things; most of them involved television. At this moment, I have seen more of Reno 911! than I ever anticipated or actually desired, but hey. Spent a lot of time shouting at a questionably rendered Mario on the Nintendo 64, too, so at least my time was productive.

There I am!

And then there was HAMBURGER. As far as I can tell, it's a fish 'n' chip shop, but the only signage is what you see: HAMBURGER. (People on the Peninsula are sometimes a little strange.) I had to walk everywhere down there, as the ranch was in the middle of nowhere -- as "middle of nowhere" as a house on the main road can be, but anyway -- and HAMBURGER marked the half-way point, roughly. Orange on brown never looked so good.

So, what about those shenanigans I alluded to? Well, it was pretty crazy; one morning -- and stick with me here, because this is going to sound a bit preposterous -- I woke up with a hairtie around my wrist I'd never seen before. And I lost one of my thongs. (That's a flip-flop; we have some pretty funny names for things down here at the bottom of the world.) And I got a prickle in my foot. As I said: off the hook.