In your jocks

Mild frost and warm coffee followed by paving in Port. On the way home we stopped in at the salvage yard and talked to the giant who owns it. He’s a warm, gentle man and I like him a lot. He told us how radios crackle when close to him, how he can only have one next to his bed for a few months before it dies and he has to buy a new one. He can also change the channel on the TV just by crossing his legs. “You shouldn’t keep the remote in your jocks” said Jim.


At home we had laksa for dinner with broccoli, lemongrass, kaffir lime and coriander, all from the garden. I’m amazed the coriander is still going, thriving, with these frosts. Before dinner Noah sat on the couch and read Mum and me a book he has only heard a couple of times, all from memory. He has quite an amazing memory for books, not Rainman or anything but a good approximation. He’s convinced he can read. He’s also learning some jokes.


“I’m grateful that we had a nice day and I read you those two stories.”
(Confused? Look)