The weather is a bit cooler this morning. Jamie and Nera are in Smithton so we have Archie for the weekend. He's a very resilient dog and seems to accept the fact that he lives in two homes. We have nothing planned but, no doubt, we'll find something to keep us busy.
I had my Poetry and Writing Groups yesterday. There's a little bonus for us at this time of the year when keen gardeners bring their excess produce to palm off on us. We had cucumbers last week, which is hardly inspiring but, this week, one of the fellows brought along a bag of Russian Black tomatoes. I wondered whether we should be boycotting anything Russian but Marilyn was delighted to accept our share.
I read an enhanced version of my story on Whistling and it was received very well. Everybody had some story to tell about whistling and I've found that it helps if I can be a little quirky in my choice of topics. The list we have to work with is fairly bland and it needs a bit of imagination to turn them into an interesting story.
Next week, my choice is The Town I Loved so Well (I remember writing on this before), The Old Bush School, and The Child Prodigy. Nothing grabs me at the moment but I'll let them bounce around in my brain for a few days and something might pop up.
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