6am. I wake to the sound of Bruno making vomiting sounds. It was dark. I woke instantly. Then Bruno is up on the side of the bed tapping me with his paw.
6.10am. I am taking Bruno downstairs for a wee. He races up the back of the yard. I don’t go with him. I wait at the back door for him. He soon comes trotting back.
I make coffee. I make Vegemite toast. I read the news. First day of my weekend, got to love that. Time to get comfortable. Ha ha.
Global confirmed Covid-19 cases pass 2.5m.
Earth Day: Greta Thunberg calls for 'new path' after pandemic. The climate activist says Covid-19 outbreak shows change can happen when we listen to scientists.
Richard Pusey, 41, was pulled over yesterday 5pm for allegedly speeding at 140km/h and police say he tested positive to ice and cannabis on the Eastern Freeway on Wednesday.
He was urinating on the side of the freeway when a truck driver smashed into four police officers impounding his Porsche 911.
Pusey allegedly told one of four police officers "amazing, absolutely amazing" as she died groaning for help.
He may have taken photos
I started re-writing CJ novel draft right from the beginning, 2009. I did that all day. Back to 2009 when Josh meets his first boyfriend.
I guess I should write some sort of beginning. Oh, I don’t know? I often think you can write the beginning as one of the last things you write.
We ate salmon triangles for lunch. Homemade, Sam makes them, manning the rice cooker. Not bought, never bought.
I went to the pet shop in the early afternoon to get the dog’s fresh red meat, diced beef. Hight Street Thornbury. It’s shopping, you are allowed to shop.
We had to social distance on the footpath out the front, being called in one by one once it was each person’s turn.
The owner’s son, or who I assume is their son, talking about beef, served me with his handsome face, his killer smile and his muscles. I let him carry the meat to the car for me, well, he offered, just so I could follow him, if you get my drifteroo.
I went back to re-writing CJ novel draft. It’s about the football team he used to play for all the guys who played on the team.
We minced up the dog’s meat. We put the diced beef through the mincer, suction cupped to the kitchen bench. The problem being, that the mincer is a hand mincer. I ‘man’ the handle while Sam feeds the pieces in and also manages the bags. But my arm soon gets tired. I push through because, I’m the guy on the handle, it is my job. I don’t want to give in and make Sam do it.
5pm. We took the dogs to the Carlton Gardens. It was overcast and grey. It looked like it could possibly rain all the time we were out in it. We walk around the perimeter path; across the plaza, down past the tennis courts to the first drinking bowl. Then across to Carlton Street, up the hill to the caretaker’s house, along Rathdowne Street, and back around to Gertrude Street.
We ate schnitzels and salad for dinner.
We ate a block of chocolate. Lovely. It must have been on special. Sam only buys chocolate if it is on special, which is good. Smart. Too much chocolate we don’t need. And this way it is, kind of, regulated, if you know what I mean.
Nana Sam went to bed at 10pm, his preferred bed time. He likes early to bed. I like late to bed. Somehow, we manage something in the middle of that, most nights, but not tonight.
I stayed up until midnight re-writing CJ novel draft. Josh believes in open relationships and the ‘normal’ gay men have developed for themselves being excluded from traditional relationships.
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