Perhaps Padma is worried that I may not know how to do my grocery shopping while she's away in Indonesia, and so today she dragged me into Woolies to show me where all the specials are. After all that mental overload, I couldn't help myself but had to take a leek - well, two, actually.
Before he could call the woman with the mob and bucket and the police, I explained to the manager that this was just one of my occasional outbursts of the oxymoronic 'German humour' which had followed me halfway around the world, but all he wanted to know was the meaning of 'oxymoronic'. I told him to ask my friend Des.
To all my old friends from the Bougainville days, this is merely a photographic confirmation that all that lovely CAMAY soap we were given in the camps did nothing for my complexion, and neither have the ravages of time passed me by, so if you run into me at Woolies, you'd probably won't recognise me - unless you see me taking a leek.
