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Sunday, September 13, 2015

Sunday morning coming down

 

Thanks to some wit who had scratched off the letters P, R, O, H, I and D, I was able to walk the dogs on Casey's Beach this morning while Padma was doing her God-bothering at Saint Bernard's Church at Batehaven.

In the small car park at the end of the beach was an old four-wheel drive with a trailer hitched up to it in which the occupant and his dog 'Buddy' had just spent a comfortable night. A million-dollar view and no sound other than the surf - and not a cent to pay for it.

The trailer is all that's left of the occupant's Jim's Mowing franchise which he had tried to sell to another sucker but couldn't because, as he told me, what little profit it makes goes straight to the franchisors. So, he had chucked a comfy mattress onto it, covered the lot with a tarpaulin, and set off to travel round Australia, next stop Byron Bay.

We parted company when his fishing reel started screaming and he had to rush to the beach to take in his breakfast, a freshly-caught bream. "Good luck to you and 'Buddy'!"

Mind you, I get a bit cagey about talking to stranger after yesterday's experience at the swimming pool. Taking a break in between laps, I sat on a bench by the pool next to a young, quite handsome Chinese-looking guy when this monstrously-fat Aussie sheila with a toddler by her side came waddling towards us. I was just about to say to my Chinese neighbour, "Who the hell would've f&%^#d her?", when she waddled right up to him and asked, "Darl', 'been waiting long?" Phew!!!

Dropped in at my favourite op-shop on the way home. Having picked up no more than a slim paperback, I apologised to the old lady by the door for spending only a dollar. "Never mind, dear", she said, "come back next week after pension-day." I reckon I must look the part.