This morning a flock of cockatoos flew over. They're so LOUD. But I slept through the hyena kookabarras and woke to magpies instead, much nicer. Reminded me of being at my Dad's house in the Wairarapa. Everything here has sharp beaks, and they stare disconcertingly at you.
I keep hoping the weather will be hot, so we can go swimming. But it's been disappointingly cloudy every day so far. Will probably be boiling on the day of the funeral when we are all wearing our black suits though, according to Murphy's Law. The Aussies assure me we are lucky and this is a good thing. Perhaps they're right.