Sometimes your life just seems strange. At ten thirty p.m. the cat decided to get on a high old oak wardrobe and chase a nasty spider which culminated in a large glass vase smashing all over the hall carpet, just as my friend along the road texted to say she was home from a concert and we could come and get our passport photos signed again (as Christy's had a tiny white ribbon in her hair which was disallowed, and Finn's pic was 'too dark' aaaaaaaaaaaargh) and so at ten-forty pm Christy and I left the glass and trotted along the road in the dark to our friends' house. There they loaned us a walker, the kind elderly people use (for Steve's incapacitated in-plaster state while we go to Brisbane) and we had to come back along the road with the walker, Christy in her 'grandma' cardigan which she incidentally did get off her grandmother, looking like we might have escaped from the Rest Home up on the hill, and I get this text from Asher saying 'fne bout to die... ' and I think, OMG, Asher is saying 'fine, I'm about to die' and what could be wrong, but Christy said it was 'fone' not 'fine' and at that point we got a bit hysterical and hoped our neighbours wouldn't hear us giggling past. Now the glass is cleaned up. The walker is parked in the living room. The cat has vanished somewhere in the house. I am going to put the rabbit to bed, feed the fish, clean my teeth and pretend I had no work to do tonight.