The demo was cancelled.

I was half way through Southland carrying Ma's worldly goods on my back, as usual, when she called and said the demo was cancelled so I didn't need to come. Obviously someone at The Body Shop did their homework and found out the home was 'high care'.

Then the rains came.

Well it was entertaining, the thunderstorm and resident mix.
Norman going round pulling all the curtains to stop the lightning coming in to get him and Eva pulling all the curtains to keep the thunder out.

Then the lights went out.

Some noticed, most didn't probably because all the curtains were shut. The lights came back on, flickered and went off, came back on. The last time it rained like this the ceiling fell in so mother kept her eyes on the roof.
The road out the front has a habit of flooding in a storm so there was a rush to get the cars re-parked. The last time two cars got caught with water in the engines. It's the huge gumtree that's blocking the drains but the Council says no to taking it out.
The escapee did it again. Hopped the fence early in the morning and was off. He doesn't know where he's going but he knows he's going.

Isn't this just typical Melbourne Show and school holiday weather?
I asked the BOH if he remembered me taking them to the Show. He said he didn't remember much except that I had harnessed them like a horse. Que? Light dawns as I cast my mind back and I was much better at lateral thinking in those days, I used the dogs' leashes and clipped them to the back of their belts. For some reason he thought that was worse. I thought it was brilliant.
He then brought up a list of complaints about his childhood clothing being 'daggy'. I reminded him that his mother did dress him at times, most notably for his kindy photo. The first and only time she did anything remotely motherish during his school years. Red skivvy, jeans and a mohair jumper that mum had knitted, shame his mother put it on inside out and we could see all the seams in the photo. He's currently hunting for the photo so he can have a piece of his mother.

I hated going to the Show. I never had a good time ever. Yesterday with it's strong wind reminded me of horse/pig/sheep/goat odour and straw in the eyes. The boys weren't all that interested and the BOH with his farming blood would nearly upchuck if he got too close to any animal that smelled and usually found the only horse/pig/sheep/goat pile of crap and stood in it.
I suppose the fondest memory was telling son to watch the horse. He said, "what horse?" and turned around and nearly disappeared up the back end of the biggest draught horse I've ever seen. That learned him to listen to his mother. Thank Ceres, they were never much interested in agriculture.