Krumhorns and other oddments.

Barbs went down to Lady Barron and heard all the excitement and drama of some boat being pushed against the reef and having a man overboard, and being pulled over the reef by the police boat... it's wil and wooly out there. I am very glad I was not running up Strzlecki mountain in in the flurries of rain and with intermittant moonlight. It's race for tough guys...

I've done some more words, more research into the fine arts of playing the Krumhorn, making traditional breads, coke (as in suff you make out of coal). And you thought a writer's life was dull.

I'm drying figs and more tomato. They are coming to an end... Winter creeps towards us.

We had a small wallaby inside the garden early this morning - I looked out the 'loo window at about 5 in bright moonlight -thereby solving my 'who is breaking this darn pipe' mystery, and a wild cat this afternoon. I just couldn't be sure it wasn't Batman. I'm afraid I want wild cats as little as I want wallaby breaking a pipe-join on its way into the garden. I was blaming the dogs.