Kid’s gymnastics lesson. Make it four minutes before she runs out “I need to go to the toilet”.

Having made her go before we left home and when we first arrived here, I may have utter the “for fuck’s sake, kid” a little louder than I meant to. I got looks.

Not a good brain day coupled with toddler and not wanting to go outside because 40 degrees and gale-force winds. It’s all good.

It’s a hot one out there kids. Stay hydrated.

Well, I’m in for a fun couple of days.

The company has never had one of these before. And I have never written one before. Time to translate an afternoon of scribbling on a whiteboard into something people will agree with.

I went to a shopping centre today for the first time since early March.

Living on a farm is a perpetual struggle. Kill one mouse, there is immediately another.

Her other current favourite song is Turbonegro’s Rock and Roll Machine.

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Well, kiddo’s now singing “I’m on the drug that killed River Phoenix” so I guess that’s a parenting win.

Got home from swimming, sat on couch, fell asleep for an hour.

I was more tired than I thought.

Australian journalist gets drunk and falls off a building. Okie dokie then.

Food for the week largely sorted, now to quickly smash a coffee and slice of bread before taking the kid to her swimming lesson.

Patiently waiting for someone to climb on the pitched roofs in our training centre so I can take some goddamn photos of it then fuck off because TGIF.

I love our local butcher. The meat produces the most impressive fat fires on the barbecue.

I may have singed some hair.

Fucking Christ I have to modify what should be a pretty straight forward email template but the fucking program they use has its own scripting language and also I finally worked some of it out to build a text-only version which for reasons passing understanding is required but also I cannot send a test of it well done everyone.

First real storm-weather of the season and I’m trying to work out it that nicely developing cell is going to hit the farm or not.

Bluey is Australia's biggest cultural export since Crocodile Dundee.


Because it's very good.

How good?

Well, they know their audience to a fucking tee.

No, I really don't feel like spending my long weekend helping clean up other people's shit.

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