I feel like I should be writing more about the Australian songstress from a few posts ago because I’m now getting about 50 hits a day with people looking for her or the lyrics to that there song, but I’m going to hold steady with more what-I-had-for-breakfast posts despite this new found popularity amongst Summery Aussie-Pop seekers.

The above picture is one of the dozens I took at the Filoli Centre on Sunday and features W. , my second cousin (I think) we finally got a chance to visit I & Y on Sunday and had a lovely time seeing Spring in full effect in the well-tended Californian version of Hestercombe.

Still exceedingly busy making an infinite number of revisions for an exciting new website, details soon… and have finally finished many pages of translation for GOJoven.

We started the 2nd series of Life on Mars last night with L & Josh and I made a cottage pie to accompany it. 70s British Cuisine at its best. If the first 2 episodes are anything to go by it’s going to be even better than the first. When ever I see DCI Hunt, I think of Mario’s description that “no tiene madre“… Storming stuff.

Atticus had an upbraiding this morning. I went to the garden centre to see how much turf cost and took him with me, on the lead obviously. I was standing in the entrance of the garden place, trying to get someone’s attention to ask whether or not they sold the stuff, when a trainee postman and his supervisor went in there. Atticus started barking at the postie, as per usual, but ‘Cus couldn’t move from next to me. And the supervisor goes “Sir, control your dog” to me. And I just looked at him trying to work out if he was joking or not. I couldn’t decide and said “You’re joking, right?” and he goes on about harassing the postal worker. And I just told him “The dog’s on a lead, I’m in a public area, and you’re having a laugh. I’m moving on, but only because life’s too short to deal with this kind of crap.” There. I’ve vented. If you can’t deal with a 25-pound dog barking at you, from 5 yards away, on a short lead, in plain daylight, I reckon you’ve chosen the wrong career path. Here endeth the lesson.

Shall probably go to Home Despot instead… because there’re less feckless posties in that one’s car park.