Tell me Tok Pisin isn't anything rude.

Oops, another week evaporated. I try to post twice weekly, and leave others to be diligent with more and even daily records of their interesting lives. Well, I did not keep to that frequency this week and the sole excuse worth trying out on you is that I have been bogged down in a hair-tearingly frustrating book edit for a client in that fascinating land to Australia's north. Actually, that narrows it down to "the rest of the world"- but I was meaning PNG, or Papua New Guinea, or better still Papua Niugini, nation of 800-plus languages, which I last visited in 1940. Ha! The ONLY time I visited; but I nearly went to a job there in 1971 so that counts as a half. Somewhere there's a family snap of me, knee-high to a grasshopper, in a native dugout canoe (1940, not 1971). It is not the ideal qualification for editing a book by an author whose first language is Wiru, second language is Kewabi, and third language is Tok Pisin (Pidgin).However, we are, slowly, getting there. Getting where exactly, mipela noken savvy tumas tru... dunno, mate.

Sanity returned with a spirited rehearsal today for tomorrow's afternoon concert in Stansbury which I hope to immortalize on, or in, the camcorder thingey. We shall see. The performance space is strange at times, since we sing and do other silly things - usually involving costumes - in amongst the daily activity of the staff and residents of the care-facility or nursing home, which provides both hosting and audience. You should try it some time: a challenge to aspiring thespians and vaudevilleans - indeed, good job experience for any such.

Catch you later.