BASSENDEAN: Panda bear shot while raiding bamboo in Payton L. Inkletter’s backyard. “They’re vermin in this country. Furry shits smell the bamboo.”

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

In other news…

25^th January 2009:

Sunday: The day did get as hot as forecast, about a hundred Fahrenheit. I surfaced in time to catch My Beloved (on which a segment about solarium dangers sent me down a bit, as I recalled my massive overexposure to the sun as a young man and boy, and the stupid use of a small solarium lamp in my late twenties for a while; reminders of my mortality sometimes hit me with force, as it did on this occasion, when most often I’m hardly affected). Next it was time to deliver vittles to Pa pree Inkletter, and I helped him with a couple of things on his pooter before returning to tackle one of the deepest darkest wild corners of our yard, the northeast one, where I cut away some of the dry grass. I discovered that the large new Bambusa oldhamii culm I tied this morning near its top had kinked half way down in today’s breeze, which I should have seen coming, so I tied it in a second place just above the kink, hoping to arrest any more fracturing, and allow it to heal and strengthen the kink. Whenever damage occurs to my bamboo I feel out of sorts, and all the more so when I am the cause; they’re all so hard won, every culm, and I know them all by name, even the leaves!

I came in after dark for tuck tuck, and then began more computing bits and pieces. It’s doing a run slow again, thanks be to Bill Gates and his demon mates at Microsoft.

Missus Inkletter and I watched a repeat of Compass about Australia Day and the flag, done by Geraldine Doogue herself, and there were some thought provoking comments by a theologian and Dick Smith that have prompted me to think some more about the matter of the flag. I returned to the pooter and began a second edit of The Mighty Midland Medley ‘Arcanum’ story, while getting emails from Baby Inkletter, who is finding it hard to sleep.

Just before I went for a late walk, about half two o’clock a.m. on this warm humid night, nib over and down a few, (son Sekim of mention a few days back) let blast with very loud (wog) music, likely Sekim and his mates, and Ahmed, their nib, came out from his sleeping household of eight or so souls to protest. The whole blast must have lasted three minutes. I intimated ignorance in the entry of the other day, and I’ll add to it inconsideration. Dozens of homes would have had their occupants woken up.

My walk had me drenched with perspiration by my return. Then back to this here pooter to do more editing. I eventually finished the second edit of Arcanum, then I bravely tackled, with a cup of tea on hand to sip for oiling my tonsils, the recording of the story, straight from the computer screen. Essentially the whole story is first take final take, but in eight blocks, for it totalled a record breaking hour and a quarter, my longest recorded ‘short’ story to date. I used the impressive mp3DirectCut and 123AVMerger software to chip off the clicks on the ends and splice the eight bits together. From starting the recording to splicing the bits together must have taken me more than four hours.

+paytontedwithlove+