Gosh you people have strong opinions regarding squirrels don't you? No we don't have squirrels, but we have Enid Blyton books in which cheerful youngsters have pet squirrels who do not bite, no, they scamper up to sit on their young masters' shoulders, nattering endearingly in their little red furry squirrelly ways.
Son #1 is home, showered and proclaiming the camp awesome. When I asked if he had been warm enough he replied brightly "Almost!"
Also, it did not rain, hail or thunder once. That's what happens when you live in a state that is as large as many of the world's countries - the north of the state has a completely different climate. It was sunny and dry and get this, they swam in the Murray every day. Teenagers are tough.
I just saw Mao's Last Dancer at the cinema with a friend (Son #1 was whisked away by his father and brothers to a very important soccer match so I felt no maternal guilt at going out tonight, on this, his first night home). The film was rather beautiful to look at, the dancing was absolutely magnificent and there was a thoroughly cathartic weep towards the end, but oh there were some cringeworthy scenes and dialogue. But it's a true story (must read book now) and did you know Li Cunxin is now a stockbroker, living in Kew (suburb of Melbourne)? How about that. We played spot the Australian actor - Penne Hackforth-Jones (nearly didn't get that one as she was not wearing a bonnet or kneading bread in an early settler kitchen), Jack Thompson under a large beard, etc. And the pumpkin risotto at Trotters was up to its usual standard so all up it was a good night.
Tired now. Bed.