Spring has well sprung.

The smell of jasmine and wisteria is in the air. The sweet pea seeds I harvested off last year’s trellis have all taken and soon our garden will be an even madder tangle of colour. The nasturtium seeds I tossed on the cliff edge have naturalised and gone berserk. There are dinosaurs.

It’s like I’ve created the Jurassic Garden of Eden and all it needs now is some biblical nudity. Adam Abroad is keen but Robinson remains stoic. She knows her bible.

Geelong is into the AFL Grand Final. Unfortunately, so is Sydney. I loved time late on Friday night when we’d played and won our Preliminary Final and for a day there we were the only team in the Grand Final, waiting for a rival. Things were pure and right.

There’s still a good chance that Qantarse (if the Swans are stupid enough to use them) will accidentally fly them to Morocco instead of Melbourne and we’ll win without the tension of having to play. Hooray! Best game ever. I’d even watch the replay.

Robinson has her new glasses and can watch the football without having to perform the old glasses routine of pretending to be in a photograph of her in the act of taking her glasses off.

Our neighbours bought a TV to watch the football finals (young moderns who previously owned no TV) but their new little Highland Terrier dog, Betsy, chewed through the gee-whiz aerial cable. Apparently – due to supply chain issues that Betsy knew nothing about – they can’t get a new cable from Sanyo until the football finals are over and Geelong are popular premiers.

That is so funny. It delights me every day.

Happily, they’ll be here next door for the grand final with a mob of others on Saturday.

The Queen is dead. Long live Spring, and Life.

Love is in the air.

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