memory like a... it's round and got holes in it,

ahh yeah, that's it, a colander.
For those of you who bothered to read the last blog (according to our web-counter it's in the hundreds of thousands - aren't they brightly coloured, sugary things that you sprinkle on cakes?) you may have wondered why the title bore even less resemblance to the contents of the blog than usual. There is a very simple explanation... I forgot what I had set out to write about in the first place. In fact, scrap that, I didn't forget I simply got carried away on the flow of my excellent prose and wandered off on an entirely different track.
What I had intended to touch upon was the 'dullsville' tag that Perth has and almost revels in. As I hinted at in the last blog (the one that 'Time' magazine voted as no. 57 in the 'best reads' of the century) everything closes at 5.30pm. The State Government was recently defeated in it's attempt to extend retail opening hours until 9pm on weeknights. However, through stealth and the exploitation of a loophole, they have managed to wangle it so that some of the larger shopping malls can class themselves as tourist destinations allowing them to not only extend their opening hours in the week but also open on Sundays.
It's an odd one really, I would definitely welcome shops staying open a bit later in the week (especially specialist record shops and sports shops) but I don't miss being able to shop on a Sunday at all. It's not like the Sundays over here are akin to the ones I remember (vaguely) as a child growing up in the UK in the 1970's. They had the potential (which they often fulfilled) to be the dullest day of the week. You weren't allowed to play outside, or if you did it had to be quietly (I didn't do quiet very well as a child - unless someone asked me a direct question and then I would definitely become very reticent). I now appreciate that there was a very valid reason for this need for peace and quiet on the Sabbath... and unfortunately I don't think it came about as a mark of respect for the Lord's day, instead I suspect that it was because everyone in the neighbourhood was nursing a stinking great hangover (well all except perhaps Miss North who lived two doors up from us).
Over here there is lots to do because the weather allows you to go to the beach, the park, play in the pool (quietly)and generally live outdoors. Our house is already listed as a tourist destination so we are allowed to stay up late on weeknights, just in case anyone is interested in visiting us.

At this point I feel I should draw your attention to the fact that I have recently received some correspondence to the effect that I have some 'blogfans' in the South West of England. I'm putting this down to the fact that I spent a couple of years living in Swindon and ended up with a bit of a West Country accent. It's worn off a bit now, all the people in the UK who I have spoken to recently have all commented on my strong Aussie twang... indeed, there's not a single trace of my broad South Yorkshire accent remaining. I have to admit that it was the positive feedback that I received regarding my 'blogging' that has led to the spike in my blog missives. I know what you're thinking, who are these irresponsible people that have inadvertently inflicted more inarticulate drivel onto the world wide web. Well I'm not telling you. Les and Pat can rest assured that their secret is safe with me.
(There now follows a break of two days. Somewhere nearby the crickets fill the hot, dry night with a rhythmical chorus of chirrups. A handsome, middle aged, distinguished looking [okay balding] man enters stage left).
Talking of cricket (tenuous, I know) the match that George bowled so well in last week concluded today (most of their matches are played over two weeks). Before today, his batting stats for the season read 0,0, 0, and 0* (can anyone spot a pattern forming). However, thanks to the Ian Botham school of cricket, today he set a new PB (personal best) of 8 - he hit two fours (ala Beefy). You really don't want to know what he got up to last night... but it involved vampires. When his side bowled again they took four wickets - George got two of them. George's upturn in form has been duly noted by his team mates and coaches, one of whom asked me today if I had any theories on why George's form had improved so markedly, I said... no. Unfortunately the season now takes a break until February so John and Jenny won't get to see him play whilst they are here. They will get to see lots of the other things that we get up to though. There is an end of year assembly at school on Wednesday, Hatties dance show is next weekend (she is in rehearsal overtime at the moment), they will be able to see where Wendy works and go jogging with her, and I will be giving them a tour of the top 3 kebab shops in Perth's northern suburbs (in no particular order).
I've got to go now, I've got a date with the BBC World Service - I have a need to be welcomed (by John Murray) to a chilly ________ (fill in venue here... probably Stamford bridge). Yeovil have just scored against Norwich. I have a sneaky suspicion that all of my west country brethren will be hoping that my team (Doncaster Rovers) will be able to make it three wins in a row and overcome Bristol City this afternoon (at a chilly Keepmoat stadium).
I seem to have caught the bug again, so I might be back before Christmas. If not, have a good one and when you think of us be assured we are thinking of you (did that sound a bit trite?, I really must work on my sincere face)

You may be surprised to discover that i was listening to the Sex Pistols whilst writing (the second part of) this blog.
H