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Thursday, January 22, 2009

DAMPIER: “Wandoo makes damn good fence posts,” Payton L. Inkletter says, “and some of the best poetry has been written in honour of it.”

In other news…

22nd January 2009:

Thursday: Another relatively cool day, high twenties Celsius and long may they continue, but they’ve about one day to go if the forecasters are right. Janny got Pa pree before five o’clock, and they did a tad of shopping at Dewson’s, and returned for Janny to continue preparing vittles for our distinguished guest this evening.

Janny had a pretty good day nausea-wise today, discovering upon a wave of nausea that a sugar free chewing gum instantly helped, but this last week she’s had some pretty rough trots with handling the Byetta, outright vomiting again at least once. She is hopeful that the chewing gum might be the deceptively simple solution she’s looking for. Ever on the alert for what in her daily routine works and what doesn’t, hopefully she’ll finally crack how to tame the Byetta beast, and simply enjoy getting Byetta and Byetta every day in every way, thank you Emile Coue`.

I did a tad of back garden summer maintenance before beautifying myself for the guests, who first called to see Umple Daffyd, and were here about half seven: the Babies Ink&Peggletter no less. We enjoyed a magnificent curry meal that Janny made – its name escapes me (breaking news added a little later!: Janny just got up for a wee tinkle, and informed me that it was ‘Thai Green Chicken Curry’, but she’s gone loopy, full of crap, coz no chickens in the world yet are green), but it’s a popular dish done in a wok (wokkle they think of next) – before a game of Absolute Balderdash, which is a fabulous game we all agree, with Baby Inkletter winning (again). We had a dash of two different wines the Babies brought, a red and a white, from our matchless Southwest, one I recall with the lovely brand name Chudacud – ‘Yo bro, chew your cud a hundred times every bite!’. It’s funny how two sets of our friends, Seventh Day Adventists and Mormons, would be tempted to think I was in league with Satan for drinking alcohol, while another set of friends, Jehovah’s Witnesses, would likely think I was in league with Old Nick if I didn’t drink. Funny that.

Bab Yinkletter brought a dessert she’d made, a lavender flower cheese cake, and it was urrerly derishus. They left about eleven, taking Pa pree Inkletter home for us, and it concluded a wonderful evening. They let us know that my mother had, with sister Mary and niece Elizabeth and hubby Michele, had din dins with them in Adelaide Terrace last night; this pleased me very much to learn, for all generations of my family are getting to know the excellent soul that Baby Peggletter is, and Bab Yinkletter and her nanna have not spent a great deal of time together these last few years, not the least reason being distance in miles.

We sat to watch Letterman, but the rat bastards put a repeat on again, the December show with Tom Cruise, which I could easily not suffer again. In fact I fell asleep.

Reviving, I came to the dungeon and caught up with pooter jobs. Baby Inkletter sent a number of emails, burning the midnight oil herself after returning from their visit with us, one of which was the witty exchange of one David Thorne from Adelaide who tried to pay a utility bill with a drawing of a spider; it’s worth reading for a laugh at this link. I was too exhausted to go for a walk, more is very much the pity.


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