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Friday, March 5, 2010

ROME: "Thinking is dangerous, if it leads to crazy ideas such as the earth going around the sun," notes P.L. Inkletter, "or that Sunday is but a day."



Be all that as it may, meanwhile:
'In other news…'
05th March 2010

Friday: Yet another night has passed when I was too weary to contemplate a walk, even though the exercise is badly needed. Nor even could Janny manage a smaller walk, as has become our habit, earlier in the evening for her health's sake. This past couple of weeks we've been greater wrecks than usual, and that, sadly, is saying something.

But this entry is about today! A wild idea occurred to me early on, while I left the slumbering zedlogger to her beauty sleep, not being able to sleep more than about five hours myself for some reason. When she arose later in the morning I put the wild idea to her, and it resonated. We would put the odds of it coming to fruition as very remote, but if it did, it would constitute a major life course change as big as our marriage was for we two then individuals. This initiated much discussion as we went about our indoor duties and routines, and doubtless will keep us busy with ideas for talking about for a long while to come.

Now wouldn't you guess it, the lascivious lusciouszite cornered me and demanded a deeply satisfying consummation, and I meekly complied, knowing the consequences of refusal, and it was after this, when she flung me off like a cherry ripe wrapper, that we got ready to do a surreptitious trip to the local shopping centre, ALONE TOGETHER, to buy a stick blender, to replace the one that gave up its ghost the other night when I dropped it on the floor in the laundry, together with too much's worth of a cocoa drink I'd just been blending; the photographic evidence is currently on the three blogs of mine which host the keenly followed – by a huge proportion of the billions of daily visitors – 'the art formerly known as ‘Header’ prints…' photographic widget.

And buy a stick blender we did, from Kmart as it turned out, first checking the offerings at Big W, which has been our preferred place to shop for such items for a couple and more decades. Big W had only one model, Kmart three; we took a cheap and nasty $39 unit, twice the cost of the fellow I killed, but not before it had given us a couple or more years of service, blending several million mugs of cocoa for me and for Reeve Chocson when he visits, among its other kitchen tasks.

A quick dash to the local Dewsons, and then, after dropping the most beautiful Celt in the world home, I set off mid afternoon for Bob's. Who was keen to set off for the pool at Swan Aquatic. He was as happy as Larry for a couple of hours in the water, and we finished in the evening at dusk with a very long walk from the picnic area at Ray Marshall Park up to what would have to be Viveash on the riverside, and it was a very enjoyable walk indeed, with Bob quite gushing about the feat.

I got home late, after 8, and Missus Inkletter kindly immediately drove a meal to Pa pree aka The Dear Leader, before rejoining me. I ate my vittles, and got 'tireder' and 'tireder', but did manage to watch Hitler's Bodyguard on SBS; I wonder how many hours of film Hitler has caused to be made?

I struggled against sleep, but revived to catch Lateline, expecting to be treated to Stephen Long's weekly economic analysis, but alas, 'twasn't to be: The (Leigh) Sales Graph: a simply but smartly dressed Ms Sales graced the screen for tonight's program, having chosen a very dark double pocketed shirt, with what could have been a gold ingot as a necklace – the simple slim rectangle of gold working very well as the decoration on her sparsely exposed decolletage – and the slightly flaring loose hanging hairstyle that suits her so well. Her polly Friday night fight club line-up, in person, consisted of Julie Bishop, Deputy Liberal Leader and Shadow Foreign Minister, dressed very nicely in a cream striped jacket with black modesty panel, and Senator Mark Arbib, Employment Participation Minister, looking as lettuce crisp and shiny as he always does, in a dark suit, white shirt, and boldly striped dark tie.

In the general, as with almost all of these polarity interviews, it was utterly predictable, with Mr Arbib painting all of the Labor Government's various doings of recent days as perfection unlimited, and Ms Bishop reciprocating in the negative, painting the same Government's doings as each ineptitude incarnate.

I liked the point Ms Sales confronted Ms Bishop with: "…Isn't the Opposition undermining its credibility and authority by simply opposing everything that the Government does all the time?...

"But don't there have to be sometimes things that you agree with?...

"But why would anyone trust the Opposition when you are negative about absolutely everything?" I have long complained at how boringly predictably negative this Opposition has been; The Liberals strategy boffins must assume it's a vote winner, and it certainly cranked up under Malcolm Turnbull, and is continuing under Tony Abbott; it doesn't work for me, however, I'd like to know if credible research shows that the attack and be damned approach is working.

Ms Sales handled the rough and tumble that spilled about during this contest well, and managed to keep the vibe positive, despite the robustness of some of the contentious issues. She is getting better at this, her abilities and confidence is growing, and only experience can deliver such.

My view of Mark Arbib: my jury is still out, but I will say that he is probably an asset to Labor in that he is a pretty face for the cameras, and verbally stumbles along with a friendly enthusiasm naturally enough to win more friends than enemies.

My view of Julie Bishop: she has improved, for I have been quite prepared to call her Julie skin-too-thin-for-politics Bishop before, based on some performances I've witnessed on the telly. She conducted herself rather well tonight.

Weariness had now set in so much that I canned all plans to walk, but did watch The Graham Norton Show; he would have to be one of the most vibrant presenters going; and no, I'm not turning.

An 'early' night, about 3 a.m., as I struggled to attend to some work on the computer.
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