"It could not be dangerous to be living in a town like this, of simple people," Marianne Moore, 1921

I may need to get out more.

I've made no plans which is simultaneously liberating and -- possibly -- the daftest-plan-ever in a long life of Dougie's daft plans.

They grant us power to see the fairies ... allegedly.

I see how it geta its name.

I resist the impulse to offer advice. I know my limits.

Not long after you break your neck in three places (in a not-swimming-well-enough accident) people tend to ask a lot of questions.

Thistle the Cat takes charge.

All we need is a lawn.

Chance of a shower ... said the weather forecast.

30 plus degrees outside. A tad warmer inside. I waited because discretion is the better part of ... being a numptie.

Canberra cancels the Midnight fireworks. We have our own. At home.

The final meal of 2024. At home with Spike Deane.

Spike Deane has a new coffee machine. And a surprisingly stylish $3 mug from K-Mart. Living the dream or what?

I worked from home today. Spike drew my attention to these small plants. Like monochrome cocktail umbrellas.

As Milton wrote, "They also serve who only stand and wait." Does that apply to cats?

Spike and Thistle The Cat enjoying the dappled shade in Spike Deane's garden.

This is a new visitor. One of three female satin bower birds pausing for a drink.

We are told to expect a long, hot summer. Already I cannot remember the last time it rained. This may be as green as it gets.

Thistle The Cat inspects the apple tree blooming in Spike Deane's garden.