The Green Roswellas decided to have a riot outside the bedroom this morning. Actually I think they're called Rosellas, but it was more like the aftermath of an alien abduction scene. Screech squawk chatterscreech squawk (repeat). Clatter about on the tin roof. Screech squawk chatterscreech squawk (repeat at increased volume). (Translated: "Where have BEEN all bloody night, you useless bum?!" "I was abducted by Aliens." (swat) "Aliens! ALIENS! I'll GIVE you bloody aliens. It's that Myra Greenfeather from the pub, you lying bastard.")
After this promising start I got and went for a walk. I was not disembowled by any Wallabies or abducted by aliens. It was still dark, so perhaps they were all in bed. I've been trying to get a good picture of the Green Rosellas for about two weeks now, but they're not easy with my little point-n-shoot. They're rather startling green and bright blue wild parrot-type things that fly about these parts in... shall we say, rather loud groups. They seem prone to things like crash landing in gum trees and falling off the windi-dry (which has an Australian name that avoids me right now). I think the master designer had got carried away with the beak and had to put the rest of the bird together in a hurry before knock-off time.
For my lunch today I had Vegemite on my sandwich (all part of the 'Learn to be Australian' thing). See what it has done to me already. It's either that or wrestling with the Australian PLR registration - which, as I have to fill in one form for every ISBN of every edition of every book I have been involved in (and I don't have enough fingers and have run out of toes to count on), could have this effect.
But I think I'll stick to blaming the Vegemite.