A storm passed through the night, quite concerning to us in the middle of the night once the distraction of television and each other’s companionable chatter ceased. Chris found himself outside at half past twelve installing the new awnings straps which did settle some of the wild noise.
At eight when we finally woke, the rain was still steady but no damage about. We had already resolved to sit the morning out in front of the television to watch the finale of the ALP leadership showdown. The political commentators certainly have made a meal out of this whole affair, floods and fires have palled in the shadow of this drama. We watched each blow, and listened to the commentators as the day unfolded.
The red head won hands down, and angrily stood in front of the media ready to mount her broom. Question time in parliament was a regurgitation of last week’s negativity; politics is a gladiatorial game and not for the faint hearted. Our dabbling around the edges in past lives seems very trivial when one watches the grand games of today. We can all now get on with business, and travel; the important matters of life.
And so the day has passed, inside, out of the rain; Chris venturing out to buy a newspaper and I only as far as the ablution block. It was the right sort of day to cook up a pot of bolognaise sauce and now as we settle for the evening, heavy rain has started again with thunder storms all about us.
We learned tonight on the news that four people were injured in accident with a tram at the very stop in Preston we were at yesterday. Perhaps we can be thankful for politics and the rain after all, keeping us out of the city today.
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