"I'm chinese junk-man from Hong Kong..."

I wonder who else remembers that song?
Well, the usual Flinders chaos. Bill popping in with a second half-tank, a quick cuppa and bit of a laugh and chat, and Molly to be fussed over. Peter giving me a call about work-bench he's taking out of his shed. Do I want it? Yes. So went up and had a look and a beer and chat... And got offered a bunch of timber, and a useful piece of strapping and a couple more extension cords... At the moment, if it is going, I'm usually keen, although the generosity leaves me feeling awkward. But right now I am definately the junk-man, collecting to replace what I had to leave behind. I've always been into waste-not want not, a regular packrat, that's me. And I had part with a lot of it. I am used to having a bit in the workshop that'll do for this or that, so it's been quite hard, being without it. Writing's gone OK despite the sadness of having to destroy one tomato plant. A tragedy.

James and Nik went off to spear fish this morning (and did well at it), and I had a nice run of writing then, despite being envious. The boy is getting good at it. Even hit a large mullet, and they move pretty quick. They saw our neighbor in waders and with a large sack of something... so we've all been trying to guess what it could be. All a secret here, of course!