Each year when my daughter returns home for holidays after working in that God-forsaken windblown frigid southern extremity of Australia known as Melbourne, I fritter away all my perfectly good blogging time by going bushwalking with her, visiting interesting new places, or discussing life and the condition of the planet over glasses of wine.
Furthermore, she invades and occupies The Bucket Headquarters and engages a squadron of man-hating combat cassowaries just to guard the entrance and make sure that “all this stupid blogging business of yours GOF” comes to a grinding halt for the duration of her occupation.
“Comments” for this story have been turned “off”.
We don’t want to open the floodgates for “The problem with GOF” remarks.
Nor do we need to allow Inga the right of reply and the opportunity to modify this truthful historical record when she discovers next week what I have written today.
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