24th Dec, A day in the life... Rochdale

So, its the day before the 25th and you wouldn't know it out here. About the only clue ya get is from the TV, yea, the ad's and the odd movie. The streets and shopping centres are bare, save for the occasional few notes of "dreaming of a white Xmas" which is a joke in itself, when ya think the temp at the moment is around the mid thirty's. So what do the Ozzie's do on the 24th?, shopping?, no. Have a lie in?, no. Big family breakfast, not a chance. At seven in the morning, it sounds worse than a building site. Every able bodied man is out in the garden with some sort of power tool, and it has to be petrol.

Mowers going like the clappers, 'whipper snappers' (strimmers) sounding like someone just poked a dozen bee's nests and of course ya cant forget the petrol blower and hedge trimmers. The sound comes from all directions, everyone must be at it. Lin recons its just people getting ready for party's tomorrow, I think its just an Ozzie "bloke" thing........If its got a petrol engine on it, they want to play with it, and if it ain't got an engine on it. Its the wife's (good luck kids)....

 The store's tell the same story. A  HUGE range of petrol gardening equipment and maybe one or two electric (they have office workers out here to ya know). I'll cut the grass later, yea, I know I cut it a few days ago, but its rained since then and grown four inches, but its just too early in the morning for me, I ain't had me coffee and I cant get me eyes open enough to be able to find the toilet door (Lin's getting a bit fed up with the puddles, I just tell her its age).

The day starts with a dip in the pool and a couple of rounds of toast, (we were gonna have bacon sarnies, but Lin polished off a whole kilo of bacon and we ain't got none left). Its just another day, The lawn gets a going over, the dog gets to do a bit of post sniffing and puddle making round the dog park and Lin spends lots of time on the phone to the UK. This travelling lark is just the best, but when theres problems, its the worst.

I don't believe it!, Witchy poo has cast a spell over the kids and it seems that the head banging is now not a must, just a maybe. Its like WW1 all over again and a truce has been call over Christmas. Well I suppose it is a time of peace and I hope our girls just give it a go. Ya never know, they might just get to like it...