Spring

This is definitely the life. I am sat in the garden on a bright and lazy bank holiday afternoon. That’s me in the picture, laptop at the ready and just wondering whether 4.00 is too early for a cold one.

You’re right, it’s never too early on a day like this.

I am particularly content today as I have just got back from a new mountain bike park up in the hills. This park is a series of specially designed narrow, bumpy, challenging and downright scary trails through tight forest and bush; it has been built by the government, 10 minutes outside the city and it is brilliant.

It doesn’t open until December, so technically we were trespassing, but that just makes it more fun and even taking the crashes into account, I am still grinning.

Yesterday wasn’t so great though. I got up early to fetch the car only to find my bike had a puncture. I fixed that and rode to the car, which wouldn’t start so I rode home. Eventually we got it going and I loaded up the boot to go fishing. I caught nothing, it rained as soon as I arrived on the beach, without an anorak, and when I tailed home with nothing for supper I found Mandy in her ritual pre night shift bad mood. Not a great day.

Anyway, after a couple of false starts, I reckon spring is really here, every day is a little bit longer and warmer. Although the mosquitoes have also returned, so has the scent of jasmine, lavender and the citrus smell of the lemon gums. It really is a beautiful time of year.

The blossom is also most fetching and pretty spectacular, this picture is of a bottle brush tree, obviously! There are loads of these trees, all of which have looked pretty drab ever since we got here, then overnight, have turned into a riot of colour with squabbling birds on every branch.

Talking of squabbling, the politicians here are having fun at the moment; they are a refreshing bunch. That does not mean they are honest and likeable, far from it, but the forthright manner of the general Australian does make them a little more entertaining than pretty much anyone I can think of in the UK,

It all kicked off this week with the former leader of the opposition, a man not widely noted for his tact, launching his book. Now I don’t know a lot about Australian politics, but I think it is fair to say he is pretty bitter about the word ‘former’ in his job description.

Taking a swipe at just about everyone, he denounced the PM, John Howard, for creating a generation of "nervous wrecks, metrosexual knobs and toss-bags" and bemoaning the death of the larrikin.

The larrikin is something Australians are pretty proud of. He, for the larrikin is always a bloke, is generally a bit of a risk taker, an adventurer, someone who fights the odds, a battler, a true blue Aussie. Someone a bit like Steve Irwin or maybe Paul Hogan. But, I am informed, not Rolf Harris.

Meanwhile, in a further, but apparently unrelated attack on the prime minister, Mrs Whitlam, the wife of a much revered former PM, has got stuck into the Mr Howard’s wife for holding his hand in public. This seems a bit harsh on Mrs Howard who looks like a nice sort and, to my knowledge has not used the office of Mrs Prime Minister to write books or charge enormous fees for public speaking engagements.

On the other hand, Mrs Whitlam does not look the sort to be holding hands with anyone, in public or otherwise.

But all this is small potatoes compared to the national debate this week about the meat content in the pies here.

Apparently there is some.

Not enough, however, to satisfy the food standard people who, after over 200 years of letting pretty much anything go in the pies, have got the gristle industry firmly in their sights.

This has not been well received by many commentators here who feel that real meat has no place inside a crust and over regulation of the pie industry is at the top of a slippery slope.

While it is fun to listen to, these people queue for things called Footy Pies and Pie Floaters.

Keep well
M&W