It's The Queen's Birthday public holiday in New South Wales. What a ridiculously colonial notion. At the moment though, I'll take any public holiday they give me.Three cheers for Her Majesty: hip, hip, hooray ...
Spike was a bit under the weather, although to be honest I have no idea what that phrase actually means. So we lounged at home, Spike wrapped in a blanket on the sofa; me putting things away in places things are meant to be put away. We had a late breakfast / early lunch of apple pancakes. Later we supped on Spike's home-made parsnip, pea and potato soup. We nibbled on German rye bread with butter and smoked salmon then gingerly fingered baked pears. We past the time by listening to CDs 7 and 8 of Neil Gaiman's Anansi Boys read absatively brilliantly by Lenny Henry.
There are much worse ways to spend a Monday.
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