Not strictly true, for we are always on or beside the sea in the Halfwit Sundays. Just a play on words really. But it has been a long time since I blogged.
I'm still loving the Halfwits, both the islands themselves and the Halfwits that inhabit them. A special blessing to those who make my day by their determination to be themselves
... to Top Hat Bob who wanders round the island with a top hat and a weiro on his shoulder. Even into the supermarkets, for it is, after all, the Halfwit Sundays.
... to Tinkerbell the goat and her owner who drives her around the island.
... to the lady who refuses to give in to the mediocrity of middle age and has a broad swathe of cerise from forehead to neck ... a flat mohawk, so to speak.
... to the houses in Beelong Street who have given their houses dodgy names .... "We Beelong2", "Beelongitude", "Beelongatsea" ... etc.
... and to the wannabees in Mawarra Street who called their house "Whywudyabeelong".
... to the couple up the street who won't cut their grass because the plovers have nested in their garden and the two chicks are tottering around the yard, fiercely protected by mum and dad.
... to the family behind us with their myriad of huge white muscovy ducks which sit on the fences, out of the way of the rottweiler.
... to Doug the Digger, Al the Hat, Steve Plumber and all those tradies who bear the name of their business in true olde englishe tradition.
... to the fact that we look after our own, even those slightly damaged by birth or misfortune. If you live in the Halfwits, you are one of us and you belong.
I'm proud to be one of you.
