I decided to take off my radio headphones and just listen to the world on my walk this morning. Its a bit silly to tune in to morning radio - I call it the Stress Along With Fran show - and tune out the babbling rivulet, tweeting birds, whistling builders etc etc.
There was a rubber chicken at the side of the path in Forbes St yesterday. It has gone now. I wonder if there is a Department somwhere responsible for removing the small pieces of light relief that people might find as they struggle through their day. Its sounds like the sort of thing Senator Vanstone might organise.
Michael asked "Where is Giz?" at the table last night. We said he's gone. Michael was sure he was sleeping, having dreams, and "soon he will stop having dreams and wake up!". We have already started transferring our worry about Giz to worry about his grave - keeping blackberries down, proper headstone, will he be disturbed by the builders etc etc. Its ridiculous.