wicked weekend

What a weekend of worldly event! Not for me... my most exciting episode was wondering if I was going to be eaten at Edithburgh by a red heeler bitch (I was talking with her human) but when I proved inedible she made friends instead. Must have said the right things in dog. Most dogs like me; in fact, they find me delicious.

The successful Shuttle launch (number 135... and terminal) kicked off the weekend, 1am Saturday. Did you remember? Set your alarm? Me neither. Then the demise of Rupert's The News of the World newspaper, sleaziest rag of the UK's gutter press. The joke is that Mr Murdoch doesn't give a hoot about it or its staff; he's looking to acquire BSkyB and its nine billion dollar annual income, beside which the NOTW cashflow was a fleabite. Nine billion...? Or was it pounds?

And today, not that most Australians would bother to note it, South Sudan's people - following the referendum earlier this year - take up their new-won independence as the planet's latest nation state, now divided from the Arabic-speaking Moslem north which had bombed and strafed them for the last couple of decades. Good luck, people.

In California, for royal-watchers the Kate and Will show rolled on. If you play polo on horseback (not the water sort) and played on the opposing team against Will, it cost you $50,000 (to charity), but the price hike was significant if you wanted to be on the prince's team. A hundred grand. I thought about it quite briefly and counted off the problems on three fingers. One: no cash. Two: no horse. Three: can't play polo. That's without even factoring in the added issues, like: wasn't there; wasn't invited; and didn't want to anyway. Which might be sour grapes, let's face it.

It's 9pm Sunday. 'Nother three hours and we'll have survived the weekend. Go Matildas. (Aussie women's national soccer team). Chopped some firewood. Oh, and I did online editing jobs for a Brazilian biochemist / medical researcher and a Canadian author. Small but interesting, the job not the author. No, actually I'm sure the author's interesting too. And may well be small. Hell, end this paragraph, why dontcha!?