Apology to Rusty the Dog. Kangaroo Encounter.

Mouse update: all quiet on the western front, which actually is the space between the fridge and the wall. The same sultana in the mousetrap remains uneaten, the trap unsprung. And did I tell you? - when I tried a newer design of trap, the one in grey plastic with a kind of spring-rocker mechanism which can be set or uncocked one-handed, the late persistent cunning mouse removed the entire interior black plastic "cage" which contained the bait. Clearly an animal with a good sense of humour.

This week and next appear devoted to variations on the theme of birthday lunches. Let the world have its general elections, riots and national bankruptcies. Gwendoline had her birthday cake to accompany lunch (BYO style) after song practice on Tuesday. Thursday was a reprise at the home of our musical director Isobel, followed by a ritual viewing of the DVD made from my gruesome digital video of the 80minute morning practice. Tomorrow I am unexpectedly invited for lunch with the birthday person to meet interstate rellies and to apologise to Rusty the dog for untoward remarks which were taken out of context.

I walked for an hour at Flaherty's Beach and the adjoining strip of bushland behind the dunes. On the beach the sole wildlife I saw was a dead jellyfish and a plastic bag. However, in the bushland a large kangaroo - I described it to friends as "me-sized" - gave a moment's excitement when we startled each other. And, as I further described the moment to boost my rep as a fearless wilderness explorer, I felt extremely brave after it hopped away with unnecessary disdain. Yes, its jaws were menacing, designed to chomp small shrubs with ease. Aha, but it's the back legs that do the damage, said one helpful pal. NOW they tell me!