It's a peaceful and quiet Sunday morning and I don't have to justify myself why I don't want another soft-boiled egg for breakfast nor do I have to pretend not to have heard another "You weren't even listening, were you?", because Padma is in far-away Melbourne.
Yesterday afternoon two yachts sought refuge off "Riverbend" ahead of a violent storm that raged along the coast. The winds were ferocious and kept me awake long enough to watch "Father Brown" on the ABC who has gone "mainstream" with pretty Caitlin eloping with her lover Alex which in this case was the diminutive of the female name Alexandra.
We seem to get this sort of stuff literally shoved down our throats these days, what with QANTAS handing out in-flight rainbow-coloured "pride cookies" the week before Mardi Gras. But let anyone like Wallaby Israel Folau express a view about homosexuality and everyone, including our corporate guardians of public morality, accuse him of homophobia.
He wasn't even suggesting that gay people should be beaten up or pushed off tall buildings which some of the more radical Islamists practice. I hold to the Voltairean principle: "I wholly disapprove of what you say - and will defend to the death your right to say it". There was a time when even I thought I was transgender. I was a lot younger then and often wondered what it would be like being inside a woman's body.
I've just looked out the window and noticed the two yachts are still there with no one stirring on board. I think I pretend the Commodore of the Nelligen Yacht Club is not on duty this morning and sleep in myself - after I've had another cup of tea and another soft-boiled egg.
