I must be ill but it is a great way to start my day.

It's starting to get cold now. We dress in layers this time of the year, then by ten we begin to disgard the top layer and by three we are back to summer gear. This morning I have a jumper with, what French women used to call 'agony covers' (because they hide all bulges, and rough clothes), over the top to keep out the breezes. I feel like a duck as I waddle around. I even have socks on, as well as slippers. I am usually bare foot.

Dressed thusly I took Bandit, our dog, for a run. I use my Gopher (an electric cart) for this so he can stretch his legs properly. Usually I stick to the bitumen but I thought I'd try one of the back streets to give him some fun. Ashley our returned cat decided to come too. That WAS fun! It was like taking two trainee kamikazee trainees out. Both gravitate towards my front wheel.

As well, the back street is deep in bulldust. I almost got bogged a couple of times and finally drove along the grass. That's pretty rough as the gopher has no springs. It was interesting, though, seeing all the different tracks in the dust. Birds, big and small, little paw brints and what looked like a goanna's prints. Lots of snake tracks from the junk yard at the edge of town. Glad it's as cool as it is, I don't fancy fronting a snake with those two. No-one was around at that time. Guess the cold weather has kept them in bed.

Frank used to walk the animals but over the years it was easier to take the car. I wrote this when he still walked them.

Going for the Mail.

Frank has a certain job to do
that really has a tale.
Every morning, before 9 am
he goes to get the mail.

He takes the dogs on this daily walk –
two killer dogs on leads –
escorted by our three home cats,
cavorting through the weeds.

There’s Molly, who began this jaunt,
followed by Kate, her mother.
(She knows where all the dangers lurk,
so keeps them out of bother.)

Now Max, our newest acquisition,
not to be out done,
insists in taking part
in this diurnal fun.

He sticks quite close to father’s feet,
hiding in his shade
and halts him so politely
if their energy begins to fade.

The performance is pathetic,
if one is left behind,
"He’s been and gone without me!
Did he think I wouldn’t mind?"

The locals now are used to
this menagerie setting forth
but tourists and out-of-towners
seem overcome with mirth.

Seeing Frank and his escort,
led by Molly and Kate the clown.
Just another bit of local colour -
a part of this little town.