OSLO: "Propelled by an idea, almost rude, involving icecream for Bess, he helped bring about the world's best hogs as a spin off," said P.L.Inkletter

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

'In other news…'

12^th July 2010

Monday: I am suffering with that curse that I assume there must be many, or at least some, writers who struggle with, and that is not being able to switch my mind off to sleep after a long writing session. I retired 'last night' about six this morning, after hours working on my current short story, only to be up and down jotting down notes for it, and not succumbing to Mistress Noddette's charms till towards ten.

Up at one, to get ready like crazy (for me) to take Bob swimming, and nevertheless not getting to Guildford till after half three.

And so it was a weary boy who got back after eight this evening, on this cold and wet day. My spaghetti jar rain gauge in the backyard informs me that since the drought broke last Thursday we've had well over three inches – yippee!

After eating the vittles Missus Inkletter provided, I was struggling with sleep, but managed to watch the second part of the gut wrenching Four Corners program featuring the current Australian forces' valiant, and in my opinion, hopeless, efforts in Afghanistan, unless and until that population value and desire what they're being offered and fully throw themselves behind the Allied effort, as well as having the Islamic militant fundamentalists' safe haven in neighbouring Pakistan removed.

Meanwhile, Win Media Centre on the computer was not doing its usual Aunty recordings tonight, unbeknownst to me, due to reception difficulties (rain: we need a new digital antenna methinks), and this throws me now somewhat, for I've come to depend on it to catch up with so many programs.

I couldn’t manage to remain awake for much of Q&A, despite having Cadbury to cuddle on my lap, and it took Lateline to revive me. The (Leigh) Sales Graph: Ms Sales looked several million dollars, jacketed and with an excellently contrasting modesty panel. Specifically, her burgundy underbodice could not have been set off better by her Payne's grey jacket, she wore a single pearl on a delicate gold necklace, slung high, with matching tiny earrings, her make-up was subtle-effect, and her hairstyle was a dream, convex flaring to excellent effect on both sides of her face, with a most attractive change to her usual style by tucking the fall behind her right ear. Whoever thought of this, keep him on!

As mentioned, Ms Sales' hair on her right side was tucked behind her right ear during her anchoring, but it had slipped a little during the edited-in earlier-in-the-evening interview with Matthew Syed from London. No matter, it still looked really good, just not quite as good as 'before' and 'after'. ABC production staff: it's called 'continuity'.

Her long interview didn't interest me at first, for I succumbed at the outset to my prejudice that sportspeople usually don’t have a lot to say of compelling interest to me. How wrong I was. It quickly transpired that Ms Sales was presenting us with an extraordinarily interesting interview with former table tennis champion Matthew Syed, who I'd never heard of (and doubtless he's never heard of me!)

Some googling soon established some of the reasons this fellow had to be so articulate, convincing, and compelling even. However, I haven't described his attire yet: 

More story coming…

+paytontedwithlove+

LONDON: "Thanks Vicki, that helped us to cement the land Down Under," PLInkletter notes, adding "but we still can't gauge how to marry our choo choos"

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

'In other news…'

09^th July 2010

Friday: At very long last, Perth's and the Southwest's big dry spell has broken, but it came with some wind damage for some, unfortunately.

Our guests began to arrive after half six, and a great evening was had by all, with The Babies Ink&Peggletter joining Reeve and Chocci Chocson here with us for a combined birthday celebration for The Babies, in the form of a Christmas in July.

And so a failed turkey went west, as well a pig, or at least a portion cured into a ham. Reeve did the honours by carving the two beasts, which is good, for had I been roped in and made to do it, we'd all have been chewing on ragged chunks of flesh.

We fine tuned some of the details of our next trip to Balingup, two weeks away, with Reeve, when Janny will, hopefully, stay on with Margie Kismikkin for a couple of weeks, and if she's super lucky (I doubt it), even for a third week.

After our friends and family had all left, after eleven, we watched the Graham Norton Show, with Cadbury on my lap, lapping up the caressings. The Babies hadn't seen her for approaching four weeks, and were impressed with her increased growth and condition.

I settled in for the whole night at the computer, writing my short story Love in the Balance (Honk for Jesus), which story prevented me sleeping last 'night' for hours, for I kept sitting up in bed and writing notes in the dark. This is not unusual, my racing mind, after a writing session.

As a break during the writing, I watched the computer's recording of Lateline: The (Leigh) Sales Graph: Ms Sales had a winter-suitable very dark grey-asparagus longsleeved jacket on, with a circular high-collared neckline, and interestingly, a close moderately solid necklace of dark and silvery pearls (with matching earrings), arranged asymmetrically, in the small area of her skin exposed, interesting given that Ms Sales often wears nothing around her neck when the area of her décolletage is much greater, and when she does, usually it is something delicate; this choice worked very well. Her make-up was ideally subtle-effect, and her hair style was most appealing, again asymmetrical but most attractive, convex flaring much more on the left side of her face.

Wouldn't you be happy too if you knew Stephen Long was coming on?

Her first long interview guest – and a change from the usual Friday night federal politics blood sport, was with Jonathan Alter, the author of 'The Promise', on-screen from New York. Mr Alter was very conservatively turned out in a dark jacket and a palatinate purple tie over a periwinkle striped light shirt.

There was almost no excitement in the discussion, given that Mr Alter appeared to naturally be a serious rarely smiling kind of fellow, but there was plenty of information, about the Obama presidency's first year. Ms Sales gave him plenty of time to answer her questions, and the most excitement that did come was when Mr Alter asked for Ms Sales to repeat a question.

It was telling in a harmless way that Ms Sales finished the interview with a unique statement for her: "…thank you very much for your time. We'll leave it there." I think she was mildly glad she could stop, lest she begin to nod off.

As I've so often said, and I hope to say many times again, thank heavens for the champion of most Friday nights on Lateline, none other than Stephen Long, who, if he gets a lousy four minutes, skips home singing. The (Stephen) Long and Short of It: Dressing rather plainly for his miserly one hundred and ninety seconds of glory tonight, 

Is this man threatening or tickling Leigh Sales?

Mr Long sported a dark Prussian blue suit, a whiter than white shirt beautifully ironed by his devoted Mum (who also had generously tousled his gorgeous curls, a head of hair that sends hairdressers scurrying to their bank to increase their overdraft to buy new blades if not sharpening equipment), and a sapphire tie with narrow white stripes, with a radical touch: the knot was rather nondescript and his collar a tad skew (Mr Long is sending us a faint message that underneath his staid exterior lurks a rebel).

The visual evidence suggests tickling.

Mr Long obviously has earned his streamlined Sarsaparilla bottle glasses, because to hear him answer Ms Sales' questions on matters economic is to behold a boffin who has soaked up oodles of knowledge and who knows how to interpret it the rest of us, flavoured with his own solid commonsense and insight.

A sorry story was on his lips when he explained how the likes of Sonray Capital gamble with CFDs, contracts for difference, with their clients' money. The whole sorry state of using the stock markets as a giant casino irritates me immensely, for the practice ultimately sucks genuine wealth out of the hands of the least able to afford it, the ordinary low wealth individuals of the whole world.

And so, it takes a great effort of will to feel sympathy for those who go knowingly into these gambles and lose. Mr Long gave an excellent and rather understandable description of how they operate, CFDs that is, and it all puts a chill up my spine. Will I live long enough to witness the maturation of stock markets to the point where they become long term investment intruments in companies creating real wealth for the good of all stakeholders? I doubt it very much.

How can a company progress smoothly in developing itself, its strengths, when thousands of leeches are buying and selling its stock just to try and make a profit within hours or days of buying in or selling, sending its value haywire?

Thank you Mr Long and Ms Sales for bringing us the best part of the Lateline week.

I got so involved with my writing that my day became my night and half the next day, Saturday that is, finally crawling into bed, sucking my thumb and having Missus Inkletter sing me a lullaby, towards 1 p.m. Thankfully I was able to turn my mind off this time. The fact that the story is essentially written now helps greatly, with just polishing and editing to go. I plan to record it as well.

+paytontedwithlove+

PONTE: "His eyes beheld stars, one twixt Jupiter and Mars…" lyricked PL Inkletter, "chuffing the Goddess of grain, and living edifyingly in the main."

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

'In other news…'

07^th July 2010

Wednesday: Cold and dry again!

I scrubbed the glass surfaces in the oven, then set off the pyro function, leaving it superheating in Missus Inkletter's care, while I set off for Bob's at Guildford, doing three things on the way, including buying some chook wheat for, of all things, microwaveable heat packs that the nifty needlewitch makes for our aches and pains, and in lieu of hot water bottles. That purchase was at City Barn in Malaga, where I patted and caressed Mama Puss, a six year old ex-stray that lives on-premises. She was mighty plump, and gorgeous (I'm considering adopting the name for my wife).

Bob wanted a walk, so we did the million mile Woodbridge to Viveash riverside stroll again, and my knees were letting me know they were no impressed by the end of it. I'll take days to recover. Then we descended upon Swan Aquatic where Bob got an hour and a half in the water.

I wasn't home till 8. But I had managed to completely read 6S (The 6s Review) – Issue 1 in the short time at the pool. It arrived a couple of days back, and is entirely stories of six sentences, which are as different as you could imagine.

Lateline: The (Tony) SilverToes aka Tojo (Jones) Assay: An upmarket attired Tony Jones interviewed a downmarket attired Prime Minister Julia Gillard, the first Lateline interview of the new PM, although she spent many a minute at the receiving end of questions as Deputy PM.

Mr Jones, when he decides to don a white shirt, certainly makes them look better than they do on most any man, as he did tonight. I wish PM Gillard had worn a jacket over a blouse or camisole, for she would have looked much more Prime Ministerial. Instead she wore a dark khaki collared blouse with a deep vee, her collar very skew-whiff, twisted high on her left shoulder, low on her right, and appearing for all the world like she'd just got out of bed and still in her jammies ; what do you think?:

Mr Jones tried to give PM Gillard a hard time over the proposed regional asylum processing centre possibly in East Timor, and they significantly overtalked each other a couple of times. Now is it a male to female thing, or what? But this pseudo savaging by Mr Jones pales into insignificance compared to what Kezza the Great of The 7.30 Report has given to former PM John Howard, former Opposition Leader Malcolm Turnbull, and such. Would Mr O'Brien savage PM Gillard equally? I suspect not.

Anyway, savaging is not necessarily justified or good. Mr Jones kept it fairly civilised, and you've got to hand it to Ms Gillard, she is a sharp operator. She resolutely avoided responding to the yes or no ultimatum Mr Jones tried, and in general I neither blame journos for trying, nor pollies for resisting that level of jackhammering answers out. But wouldn't it be wonderful if they didn't have to resort to such methods!

Last week I laid in the boots to Angus Houston, our once Scottish Chief of the Defence Force, in my review of his interview with Ticky Fullerton. I have felt a bit bad about it ever since, mulling over it much, but I returned nevertheless to edit in some more slightly stinging criticism just tonight!

+paytontedwithlove+

UNITED STATES: "Another day another dollar…" laments PLInkletter, as he deals out another wad of dead presidents for his missus to dispose of promptly

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

'In other news…'

06^th July 2010

Tuesday: The big cold and dry continues…

Missus Inkletter got herself off to the doc's to learn that although she was feeling worse and coughing blood, "tis just a voirus me dear, and you've coughed so hard you've burst a blood vessel", and so this news perked her up enough to go on a mad op shopping and grocery shopping spree, throughout the proximal northern burbs, on her lonesome ownsome, and she had the grin of a Cheshire cat when she got back, waking me up in fact, for I had had a very bad night.

Now it is not in my make-up to deny my good wife her marital dues, so when she developed those bedroom eyes late afternoon, I wisely allowed her to ravish me relentlessly, finally flinging me off like an empty Lindt Blueberry Intense packet. This meant I only had time (no quickie will satisfy this lynx), before dark, to water the new lavender cuttings front and back. It's ridiculous to be watering them in the middle of winter, but it's as dry as a bone out there.

The weather men and women have been talking up a big front coming Thursday and carrying on for almost a week; they had better be right, or the farming community will storm the TV studios and sacrifice a few of them to the rain god, and I'll be providing cups of tea and Missus Inkletter bowls of soup.

I managed to collect suitable images from my Win Media Center recordings of Monday night's Aunty line-up, and get five of them uploaded to complement my posting of that day, showing how superb the ABC's presenters can all look, from Kerry O'Brien, Jonathan Holmes, and Tony Jones, to Leigh Sales and Ticky Fullerton. I did all this in the wee small hours, so why not take a look and see if you don't agree they all looked wonderful. The ABC is being very well represented sartorially by these professionals.

Oh how interesting it was to see the disagreements between the guests and host on First Tuesday Book Club tonight! Marieke Hardy, Jason Steger, and Wendy Harmer sided against the unashamed fans of 'One Day', by David Nichols, Midnight Oil drummer Rob Hirst and Jennifer Byrne. My wish is to have one of these programs every week; they'd have to speed read though…

And then it was Lateline: The (Leigh) Sales Graph: Ms Sales looked first-class in her dark jacket and frilly neck lined khaki blouse, subtle effect make-up, tiny earrings her only jewellery, and lovely convex flaring hair style. She conducted a phone interview with East Timor's President Jose Ramos-Horta, concerning the Government's proposed regional asylum processing centre in his country, giving Mr Ramos-Horta a respectful and uninterrupted opportunity to answer her questions.

Next came on that Opposition stalwart, Shadow Immigration Minister Scott Morrison, to discuss this new proposal in-studio, and he looked the image of dapperness in his bistre suit, palest of pink shirt (if my eyes informed me correctly), and a smart dark blue on white striped tie.

Mr Morrison had an answer for everything, of course, but full marks to Ms Sales for keeping him on his toes and moving the interview fast. She politely kept up a barrage of significant questions and comments.

A gem from Mr Morrison came when he quoted former Treasurer Peter Costello: "it looks like it's another one of those policies that haven't lasted from lunchtime to Lateline"; not that there's yet any substance to this claim, but it sounds great.

Mr Morrison did say a true thing when he told Ms Sales "there are no decisions you take in this area of asylum seeker policy that are free of moral burden".

He used an effective expression when he said "What we don't wanna see is some sort of a magnet set up in the region", when referring to the possibility that a regional centre could attract asylum seekers who otherwise would not come. I don't know how likely that would be, but I pay him marks for an arresting description.

Ms Sales asked a highly pertinent question after the following remark: "Coalition politicians keep saying, "If you want to stop the boats, you have to change the government."

Scott Morrison: "That's right."

Leigh Sales: "Isn't that a slogan a little reminiscent of, "Interest rates will always be lower under a Coalition government," something that was proven to be hollow?"

Mr Morrison, of course, blabbed on about anything and everything rather than admit the bleeding obvious, which Ms Sales tried valiantly to get him to acknowledge.

We got some more humour from Mr Morrison, delivered with dryness: "It's about as likely as seeing a budget surplus from this government", and  "And with due deference to redheads, it was Kevin Rudd with red hair today"; and some wit: "They'll change their language, they will go out there and they'll wanna feel everybody's pain".

Thank you Ms Sales for bringing us an entertaining interview, teasing out the comedian under the surface of Scott Morrison.

+paytontedwithlove+

CHACEWATER: "Watt was the point of getting all steamed up?" PL Inkletter asks, "But he did blow his horn to a double beat, compounding matters a lot."

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:

'In other news…'

05^th July 2010

Monday: My over-one-week-long cold has taken a turn for the worse today, and so I've been feeling rotten. But not so rotten that I didn't think of my sister Helena turning a mere 58 today.

Nevertheless, Missus Inkletter and I did an afternoon shop sweeping like a couple of middle-aged crazies on cocoa through Malaga, Beechboro, Morley, and, retracing back to Beechboro and Malaga. And it was a fruitful shop, op shop, and a fashion and appliance reconnaissance, the latter being for a joint birthday present for The Babies Ink&Peggletter on behalf of Umple Dais and The Dear Leader.

We spent the cold evening slumped in front of Aunty, some of it with Cadbury C.K. Inkletter on my lap, and my word how excellently presented were all the anchors tonight, from Kerry O'Brien to the usually fiercely casual Jonathan Holmes, to Tony Jones, and finishing with Leigh Sales and Ticky Fullerton.

Kerry O'Brien's tie was quite dazzling, with its red background overlaid with pairs of white stripes.

Jonathan Holmes looked great, and should ALWAYS don a tie for his program.

Tony Jones proved yet again that white shirts are not necessary for professional presentation.

Leigh Sales looked an image of freshness in chiffon.

Ticky Fullerton glowed with her shorter locks and fiery jacket.

Four Corners, twixt Australian Story and Media Watch, was wrenching for me to watch, seeing the struggle our troops are enmeshed in in Afghanistan, and I hope to see the concluding program next week. There isn't much worse than seeing our younger citizens torn to shreds for hopeless causes.

+paytontedwithlove+