The kid's birds appear to be getting it on. Sarah told us this weekend that Peppermint was on top of Mischief. There appears to be a lot of kanoodling going on in that cage. Now every time I walk past them I see them chirping I reckon they are talking dirty to each other. Those damn birds appear to luckier than I am, damn them.

Even the cat is laying about the house in a tired fashion like he's been out all night doing the thing. OTOH, perhaps he's just a cat and laying about is what they do best.

According to a survey (so it must be true), over 60% of Kiwi's (and presumably all the other inhabitants) of New Zealand are completely ambivalent about rugby. Me, I'm not so ambivalent and more like hostile towards it. It's a game played by boofheads and watched by people that actually think they are getting some excercise while they watch various ex-rugby players yap incessantly about it on TV. Except for Rik of course who has to watch it as he is the Official Almanac of Sport.

Has anyone else noticed that these days the game build up on TV and the post mortem afterwards is so much longer than the actual game itself? The talk appears to be more important than the doing. It's like the game has been taken over by consultants!

It looks like I have completely run out of material. Peas, beans and Sparrow Grass is all I can muster up.