Our letterbox would take out an Ugly Letterbox Competition, if there were such a thing. It's not fixed to anything, and because of the slope of our land it quite often goes sliding off down the hill.
I know the postman gets frustrated with the whole thing, because sometimes I find our letters lying on the grass and I just know that he's thrown them in the general direction of the letterbox, rather than posted them in the slot. One day I say, we'll get a brand spanker.
Our palm has gone the same way as the letterbox. Winter is really knocking them around. This one is just plain old embarassing. I'm afraid it may be lost for good.
Despite my suffering from pneumonia, I know a good kerbside pick-up when I see one. I spotted this table calling out to me from the footpath last week. When my husband got home I asked him to drive down there and get it for me.
'You know this goes against everything I believe in', he said as he hoisted it into the back of his ute, and I knew how much he must love me.
Grey laminate, octagonal, genuine 50s or 60s. It looks a bit ordinary now, but just wait. Despite all the terrible things the others said about it on the way home, we immediately sat around it and had a game of poker on the verandah. It will do very nicely indeed.
This is what the girls are bringing back from their walks at the moment. If its your tree that's losing it's flowers bit by bit, day by day, I apologise.
I am off now to do some things for the Red Hill Fair. Don't forget, this Saturday 10am-3pm, Woolcock Park Red Hill.....
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