My hour for tea is half-past five, and my buttered toast waits for nobody.

It is ridiculously, unseasonably warm. This hot sultry wind blew in during the night and now it's pretty much summer. I guess winter is like so last week. Mind you, last Thurs was freezing.

Speaking of tropical, I'm now the proud owner of a mango tree. We've got it sitting beside the banana tree to see how it goes. I'm hoping to turn it into my tropical fruit section. Said mango tree was picked up in Cabramatta. Went on a day trip which involved poling about in exotica, getting ripped off mightily and noodles. In fact lunch was defiantly Python-esque when the maitre'd of the noodle emporium briskly informed me that the menu was off, luv, and there were only two dishes available: the chicken or beef. I went chicken pho and it was pretty darn good. I suspect he was sheilding our delicate red faced barbarian sensibilities, and if I were younger and hot blooded I'd have ordered the klingon dishes as a matter of honour, but I ain't, so I just ordered the chicken.
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It's back to winter again. Back to long days again. Which is severely cutting into my tv time. I've been watching the Sarah Jane Adventures, but only every third episode (if that), so if I say I'm not delighting in this season quite as much as I did the first it'd be mightily unfair. It's still fun though, and quite old school, which appeals to my overdeveloped sense of nostalgia. The odd references to days of yore also make me wonder if tv writers with over fond memories of the Andy Pandy jumpsuit aren't lining up to write for this show. Whatever, its still more my idea of Who than actual RTD Who.
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