Just surfing around after a feastish night at a buffet on the Cairns Esplanade called 'Charlies'. 'Charlies' is one of those places you would never go unless your Swedish step-mother, who is in town sans your father, (and with a rather bright grand-daughter who is halfway through medical degree in tow) invites you there.
Three languages were spoken, many oysters eaten, and much women's business hashed over, from recipes to Pilates to my absent father's increasing girth. Apparently living back in Europe has prompted a not surprising return to drinking and proscuitto and other good stuffs, and really, why wouldn't it?
We also discussed jogging, and since I've now mentioned it, I will now have to admit to this year's resolution. Oh yes, really.
And since I've now admitted it, I suppose I shall have to keep you updated.
Oh, alright then, if I must.
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