Sunday

(I'm using an extract from my journal, as nothing else is coming to mind)

5.45am. I get up and have a wee. I think it is too early considering what time I went to bed, so I go back to bed. 

The bulldogs are over on Sam’s side which is usual. But, I am not falling to sleep, so at 5.55am. I get up. On a Sunday?

As I turn the corner at the laundry, I can see through my glass roof that my next door’s first floor bathroom light is on, of course, I imagine Tommy is in there having a tug. That makes me chuckle on my way to look at the fire from last night.

There are still red coals in the fire, so I push all the coals together. I go outside to get some small twigs to revive the fire. I load the coals up with the small twigs and they are sending up smoke in no time.

I make coffee, of course I do. It is the one mandatory chore of the morning.

I watch Johnny Smith and his barn find of two rare Skodas. The late owner’s son is quite tall, dark and handsome with an English accent so I get quite lost in their episode.

Milo snuggles in the pink blanket with me. He has to get his love before the monsters get out of bed.

7.45am Charlie was up. He comes out in his black long johns. I tell you they are quite distracting. If you don’t want me to look at your arse, Charlie, don’t wear skintight long johns. (Oh, I kind of cringed as I read that back. I guess that is kind of terrible, isn't it? Nyr? I don't really think about Charlie that way, I just don't. But, occasionally, he can catch me offguard) Ha ha.

8.15am. Otto is up followed by Sam.

8.16am. Brun is up.

They both jump up on the couch with me. Milo makes an exit stage left.

We have a friend, Enzo, from the country staying for a couple of weeks. He seems to have taken to Melbourne’s night life with gusto. Read, he is taking anything and everything and is enticing men over here at all hours of the night to partake with him.

Last night he headed out sometime after midnight. He came home at 9am’ish looking worse for wear.

How much meth have you had, I wonder.

Oh, Enzo, been there, done that. You chase your arse, it is all consuming, you do nothing else, you waste your life, and in the end you are even lucky if you can remember any of it.

9.40am. I start watching Youtube car shows.

No AI image creation today, gotta get this under control. I mean, what am I gonna do with them all. I’m collecting all these images that I am very pleased with, but I’m not gonna use really. I could start a dedicated page, but I’ve already got three blogs, and it’s writing that I really want to do which is actually me creating something, and not me just giving instructions to an app to create something.

I fell asleep on the couch, dozing off having a snooze while I was watching Youtube, it was lovely, I didn’t try to stop myself, I just gave into it. This was while Sam was cleaning, so he vacuumed instead of me, and I slept through it happily.

Otto attacks Brun twice this morning. Once while the two of them do still fight. I don’t know, it doesn’t make sense, as most of the time they are cuddled up together somewhere. The vet says it is called sibling rivalry, just like kids in a family sometimes fight. 

Sam was vacuuming, and Sam tore into Otto with the vacuum, slamming it down on the floor next to him and yelling at him. Otto is scared of the vacuum at the best of times. He wasn’t that happy after that.

11:55am. We walked the Bulldogs to Lygon Street. The rain has stopped, the day is a bit warmer, I think the son is even out… oh my dictation, chuckle…(I dictate into my phone when I am out walking) the sun is even out. (I'm not sure why blogger does this increased size with an edit, but I tend to leave it that way when it happens)

Come on, we’re going for a walk, my dictation picked up me saying to Brun.

We meet the sisters as we walk the short distance of footpath to our street corner. There are two of the sisters, one of which loves Brun and is always saying hello to him. If she is with one of the other sisters, she is always telling the other sister who he is. It is very cute.

12.15pm. We’re walking the long way around the Carlton Gardens via Victoria Parade to Lygon Street. A jogger in tight blue shorts jogs past who has a really lovely defined arse crack up the back of his pale blue shorts, like a jelly mould.

12:28pm. We’re in Lyon Street getting takeaway Malaysian food.

It threatens to rain on us on the walk home, but it only really starts raining once we have turned the corner into our street. Brun resists running in the rain, even for that short distance from the corner, so I unclip his lead and leave him to it. Sam isn’t so pleased with that and he waits in the rain for Brun to get to our front gate.

1pm. We’re home.

We ate a bowl of Malaysian food for lunch.

I lay on the floor in front of the open fire with a pillow and my laptop for most of the afternoon. It was lovely. There is something really relaxing about lying on the hard floor.

I watched YouTube.

I re-wrote blog posts for CJG.

I ate restaurant lasagne that Charlie bought home from work for dinner.

We watched MasterChef. Sara was sent home, which really was a fail.

We watched The Lost World of The Hanging Gardens. That was quite interesting

We watched 60Minutes. Andrew Tate and Ed Sheeran. Two extremes of men. The good and the bad. One that only seems to want good for humanity, and one that seems happy to suck the good out of humanity for his own benefit.

We turned the TV off after that.

10.30pm. We went to bed.

10.45pm. Lights out.