easter message of hope

After two months of working full time (how can people do that?), I was turning into a horrible person, going out of my way to piss people off. Occasionally I'd be walking along the street muttering four letter curses to myself, imagining doing horrible things to folk. But thank goodness for the holidays! I've been here at Spud's mum's beach shack for just two days, and already the murderous impulses are fading.

Yesterday, we walked the animals along several beaches, then followed up with a freezing swim amongst tanned blonde mermaids. Then spent the hottest part of the day back at the shack. Spud's mum has transformed the garden in the last year by planting trees, tall bamboo and bougainvillea. It's only a small place, and the neighbours are so close we can hear every word, but thanks to the jungle they can't see us. So the clothes came off, and after a bottle of Peerless, I was able to make an offering to the plants, using the uncle's plant food formula. What a primal feeling to give back to the land as nature intended!

Blog ethics prevent me from mentioning anyone I live with, so let's just say the jungle was a perfect setting for liberating some ching back into the wild. Possibly with person or persons unknown.

Lunch on the veranda wasn't the usual improvised DIY sandwich affair. It was grilled salmon, with baby spuds, and tartare sauce. Washed down with some kind of tropical fruit pulp scored from aldi.

In my first 2 days here, I've had one Peerless on day one, and two on day two. Tonight is going to be exciting, as we find out whether it's going to be a linear or exponential progression. Eventually I hope to sink enough to feel some effect.

To finish this easter message, some information for our congregation:

On TV, Michael Wood's series on India has got up to the episode on the Buddha. I never knew he was Indian. If the guy really did and said all those things, he was a very astute person. If you wanted a religion, you'd choose that one.

And I've just read a newspaper interview with Richie Benaud, where he admits his biggest regret:

I wish I hadn't tried to hook Jack "Dasher" Daniel at the MCG in 1949. I didn't get inside the line of the ball and had my skull badly fractured in several places.

Who knows know what it means.