The chance of me posting on this blog again in the next three months are probably higher than the family surviving puppyhood. Don't wait up. Hell, I could barely remember the password to log in to the blog!

Scarlett, with a hint of mild panic: I don't know what I want to do when I grow up.

Us, mildly amused: Oh, I don't think you have anything to worry about just yet. You're only four.

Scarlett: I might be a McDonalds lady.

Us, laughing: Oh ok. But what do you want to be when you really grow up?

Scarlett, very seriously and with no pause: A mermaid.

That's Cambridge in England, not anywhere in America or anywhere else. My birthplace and no, I did not go to University there. If I had a dollar for every time I was educated there, I'd be driving a Lamborghini Countach by now.

As with most places in the UK, there's a lot of history. I don't recall much of those first six years of my life there before we moved to pastures new, but I do recall it being a drab place. My most recent trip through there back in 2001 showed that nothing had changed much, except the addition of a multitude of traffic calming measures through the main street. The village is located near the Gog Magog Hills, also known as Giant's Grave, because that's where, legend tells us, that the giants Gog and Magog were buried.

When Jo and I moved in together we lived on the outskirts of the city for a couple of years. It's funny because I spent 25 years trying to get out of Cambridge, moved to the other side of the world and now I miss it like crazy. It's a slow-paced small city with a crap road system, but it's one of the most beautiful areas in England. If it wasn't for the opportunities we have now in Australia, we'd move back in a the bat of an eyelid.

[C] is for Cambridge United

I'm a sports fan. Any real sports fan likes to experience the pain as well as the pleasure of following their team. Those glory hunting arseholes who follow the team that wins all of the time just really don't understand the true depth of the sport they follow. Australian leagues for sports don't really allow for much failure. You finish bottom of your ladder? Big deal, don't worry, it's ok because you'll get the best draft picks the following year.

I grew up supporting Liverpool as all young lads in England did during the early 80's. My Dad is a Manchester United fan so my love of all things Liverpool didn't go down too well. By the mid 80's I had discovered Cambridge United, my home town team and by the late 80's I was more of a Cambridge fan than a Liverpool fan.

Cambridge are one of those teams that really excel at the pain side of things. They occasionally experience the pleasures as well just before you're about to die an excrutiating death. And we all go back for more the following year to suffer it all again. There are very few years that Cambridge don't go through a promotion or relegation, or something close to either. They always had that uncanny knack of clutching defeat from the jaws of victory like no other team could manage.

They are a team who have no money, got screwed by one of their owners, were relegated from the Football League to non-league football and almost went into liquidation. They are still going and have just reached the play-offs which might propel them back into the Football League. Despite all of their hassles they are known as one of the big giant-killing clubs in English cup football and were just 90 minutes away from reaching the inaugaral English Premier League which would have completed the rise from bottom division to top in three straight years. Something almost unheard of.

Average home attendances when I used to go were around 3,000 people. I've been to grounds with more than 40,000 people and while those atmospheres have been electric there's still nothing like standing on the cold terraces of The Abbey Stadium with a handful of people, freezing your nuts off and going mental at another pass or shot that went astray. It was never pretty stuff, but it was Cambridge United. The Amber Army. My team.

Anyway, here's what has been happening (and not happening) in my life over the last few weeks.

As mentioned previously, I turned 35 on April 13th. It was a great weekend. On the Friday night our neighbours J & S came over and we picked up some excellent takeaway curry from Gawler, washed down with a few bottles of Cooper's. Saturday was a lazy day and Jo cooked up one of her excellent lasagne's.

On the Sunday the kids came down to our bedroom early in the morning and I opened my cards and presents. When we eventually got up and going, we headed for a drive through the Adelaide Hills down to Hahndorf, an early German settlement with more than a subtle hint of the culture still thriving. We grabbed lunch at The German Arms hotel where I took the opportunity to have a Bavarian Mixed Grill to acclimatise myself before travelling back to Germany with work the following weekend.

After we got back from Hahndorf I headed back out to the city with a mate for a bite to eat at The Lion and then onto the W.A.S.P. gig at Thebarton.

W.A.S.P. were one of the first metal bands I got into in the late 80's. I'd started to turn to the dark side (!) through a couple of Iron Maiden and Bon Jovi tracks that made it into the UK Top 40. My brother was a metalhead too and I managed to copy a few songs from his growing vinyl collection. W.A.S.P. were probably the first band I found out about through my own mates and their 1987 Live ... In The Raw album was always in the cassette deck from the moment I picked up a copy. Around the same time I was just starting to get into Metallica's Master of Puppets album, Def Leppard's Hysteria and not longer after the Gunners Appetite For Destruction.

That Christmas I remember getting the back catalog of W.A.S.P. albums from my family which was quite amusing considering how their "show" was all about blood, women, sex, drugs and rock n' roll. I just missed out on seeing them in London in 1989 on their tour for The Headless Children album (a partly political album and not literally about decapitated kids).

W.A.S.P. were also one of the targets of the American organisation led by Al Gore's wife Tipper, the PMRC - the Parent's Music Resource Centre - who basically try to ban all music that was deemed a little risky. Anything from W.A.S.P.'s Animal (Fuck Like A Beast) to Cyndi Lauper's She Bop, a song about masturbation. Madonna, Sheena Easton & Prince were all targets in the mainstream. The PMRC never actually won, but they were responsible for the "Parental Advisory - Explicit Lyrics" sticker that still appears on CD's today. If anything they failed miserably, succeeding only in promoting metal acts and making the kids want to find out what it was all about. (Read more here).

Anyway, I always ramble when I write about music ... the gig was great. I hadn't seen them since 1993 when they toured to support The Crimson Idol album. This tour in Australia was their first ever and they were celebrating the 15th anniversary of The Crimson Idol, playing the "rock opera" it in it's entirety as had always been intended.

The long weekend just gone was also great. We redecorated the nursery now that the twins are way too old for it. Scarlett has decided to move into Ab's room which is purple and Ab is moving into the old nursery. Of all colours, she chose pink. Hmmm. Surprisingly it wasn't too bad to paint. In fact it was almost a relaxing colour to spread across the walls. We have a couple of things to fix up this week and she should be ready to move in by this coming weekend when the fumes have dispersed.

I hate painting but I love the feeling of achievement after it's complete.

The trip to Germany I mentioned earlier didn't happen because of the problems at work. It was cancelled with a couple of days to spare. Although I was looking forward to it in some ways, I was quite happy to have the last two weekends back to myself rather than spending them travelling.

That's it. I might try and get 'C' complete tomorrow for the A-Z. Emphasis on might.

Saying that, I'm not one of these bogans who says "death to all dogs/cats" just because they like the other one better. Jeez, that's almost as bad as getting into a conversation with a footy fan over who is better between the Crows or the Power. Pointless really.

Our first family cat was Susie when I was about six. She was a tabby kitten with the most gorgeous golden belly, offspring of a wild cat and feline temper that was obviously gene-based. She was a victim of the deadly cat flu virus when she was about 5. My folks replaced her with another tabby who was named Dusty, because he literally looked like a ball of dust when he was a kitten. He soon grew out of that phase and the name was never appropriate from that point forward. As Mums sometimes get the kids names mixed up, quite often I was referred to as Dusty before being corrected. I knew my place in the household.

These days the folks have a big, fat silver tabby called Remi (named after a football player). This cat has no neck. It's like a chunk of meat with some little podgy legs sticking out it's torso.

We have three cats in our house all of which we rescued from the Animal Welfare League. The first we got within a few weeks of moving in. She's a tortoiseshell named Meg. Technically her name is Megara, named after the sultry-voiced character in Disney's Hercules cartoon, but she goes by Meg most of the time. She's a moody broad, has irritable bowel syndrome and what looks like arthritis in her hind legs. At one stage we were buying protein-free cat biscuits for her at $30 a pop. Then we managed to find a brand that didn't irritate her bowels, so she's happy, we're happy and there's no need for a second mortgage on the house.

In late 2002 we picked up our second cat, Ollie, a semi-long-haired black and white kitten. Full name Oliver Guido. Ollie seemed to suit him and Guido was after a really old black and white cat which we'd seen at the AWL once before. We fell in love with Guido, but he didn't like kids and other cats so it was an instant no-no. Ollie has never been able to meaow properly. It comes out in such a way that he sounds like he's using a voicebox and anyone else would question his sexuality. Hence, he's a poofycat. These days he's trying hard to shake the gay undertones by getting his head covered in scars, etc. But the meaow, or lack thereof, has stayed put.

Earlier this year we picked up Jezebelle, a semi-long-haired 1 year old with beautiful green eyes. Currently she likes to gnaw on any limbs that present themselves as meat, whether the owner is awake or not. She's good fun but goes completely mental for the 20 minutes leading up to using the dirt tray and usually at least 10 minutes afterwards.

So three cats, no dogs. Abbey had two goldfish but they died a slow death. The only other pets have been sea monkeys. If they had hamsters in Australia we'd probably have one or two of them as well, for the entertainment of the cats as much as being kept awake all night by the gnawing of little teeth on bars. There's talk of a beagle one day .... not for a while methinks.

Had a great day. More to come when I feel like it.

Not to disappoint Amanda, here's an entry for boobies. A long time favourite subject of mine and an entry that was going to be included anyway. I don't think they've had a mention for a few months. No wonder my site stats are down recently. Yes I am a boobs man, but I'm also a leg man, a butt man, a neck man ... heck, let's just say all-over.

There's not much I can say other than anything much more than a handful is waste. Women like Pamela Anderson do nothing for me. If it's fake, it's a waste of silicone.

Boobs. Jugs. Orbs. Elmer Fudds. Bouncing Buddhas. Sweater stretchers. Lung protectors. Beach umbrellas. Frost detectors. Scooby Snacks, Jell-o molds. High-beam lights. Humpty Dumplings. Double lattes. Hooters. Shooters. Holy grails. Flying saucers. Traffic stoppers. Double Whoppers. Pillows. Soft-serve cones. Armadillos. Midget earmuffs. Warming globes. Strobes. Probes. Frontal lobes. Knockers. Honkers. Smurfs. Jogging partners. Bambi's Thumpers. Congo bongos.

I haven't heard of a few of those terms before, so thank Robert Lund who's web site I won't link to as it keeps crashing my browser for some unknown reason. Needless to say he obviously makes a living writing songs about the most critical subjects in today's world.

No matter what you call them, you just cannot beat boobs. Squeezing on the other hand ;-)

[B] is for Belinda

While the poppy, made-for-radio tunes were what made her money it was quite often the tracks that were not released as singles that were far better. Her brand of pop, like that of the Stock-Aitken-Waterman factory, disappeared during the grunge period. The artists had to reinvent themselves, as Kylie did with success, or disappear into the woodwork. Like Belinda. In reality she took a break to raise her son and move to rural France. Her most recent album is all in French and I didn't think much of it. I still prefer to think back the late 80's and early 90's when she looked hot and sounded fantastic.

[B] is for Blues

I grew up hearing a lot of guitar music at home, mostly stuff influenced by blues such as Eric Clapton. I followed my brothers lead and got myself into the rock/metal scene from about the age of 13 and developed a love for the sounds of a blues guitar after I heard some Jeff Healey and Stevie Ray Vaughan tracks. While metal doesn't leave much to the imagination (guitar is power, guitar is evil, guitar is LOUD!), blues music defines emotions. When it's a great musician you can feel the emotion in every note played. The guitar player becomes one with their guitar and their song. Anyway, rather than go on about it, I dug out this email I received about ten years ago that tells you all you need to know about the Blues:

HOW TO SING THE BLUES
(attrib. to Memphis Earlene Gray with help from Uncle Plunky)

1. Most blues begin "woke up this morning."

2. "I got a good woman" is a bad way to begin the blues, unless you stick something nasty in the next line.

I got a good woman
with the meanest dog in town.

3. Blues are simple. After you have the first line right, repeat it. Then find something that rhymes. Sort of.

Got a good woman
with the meanest dog in town.
He got teeth like Margaret Thatcher
and he weighs about 500 pounds.

4. The blues are not about limitless choice.

5. Blues cars are Chevies and Cadillacs. Other acceptable blues transportation is Greyhound bus or a southbound train. Walkin' plays a major part in the blues lifestyle. So does fixin' to die.

6. Teenagers can't sing the blues. Adults sing the blues. Blues adulthood means old enough to get the electric chair if you shoot a man in Memphis.

7. You can have the blues in New York City, but not in Brooklyn or Queens. Hard times in Vermont or North Dakota are just a depression. Chicago, St. Louis and Kansas City are still the best places to have the blues.

8. The following colors do not belong in the blues: violet, beige, mauve.

9. You can't have the blues in an office or a shopping mall, the lighting is wrong.

10. Good places for the Blues: the highway, the jailhouse, the empty bed

11. Bad places: Ashrams, Gallery openings, weekend in the Hamptons

12. No one will believe it's the blues if you wear a suit, unless you happen to be an old black man.

13. Do you have the right to sing the blues?

Yes, if:
a. your first name is a southern state--like Georgia
b. you're blind. c. you shot a man in Memphis. d. you can't be satisfied.

No, if:
a. you were once blind but now can see.
b. you're deaf.
c. you have a trust fund.

14. Neither Julio Iglesias nor Barbra Streisand can sing the blues.

15. If you ask for water and baby gives you gasoline, it's the blues. Other blues beverages are:

a. wine
b. Irish whiskey
c. muddy water

Blues beverages are NOT:
a. Any mixed drink
b. Any wine kosher for Passover
c. Yoo Hoo (all flavors)

16. If it occurs in a cheap motel or a shotgun shack, it's a blues death. Stabbed in the back by a jealous lover is a blues way to die. So is the electric chair, substance abuse, or being denied treatment in an emergency room. It is not a blues death, if you die during a liposuction treatment.

17. Some Blues names for Women

a. Sadie
b. Big Mama
c. Bessie

18. Some Blues Names for Men

a. Joe
b. Willie
c. Little Willie
d. Lightning

19. Persons with names like Sierra or Sequoia will not be permitted to sing the blues no matter how many men they shoot in Memphis.

20. Other Blues Names (Starter Kit)

a. Name of Physical infirmity (Blind, Cripple, Asthmatic)
b. First name (see above) or name of fruit (Lemon, Lime, Kiwi)
c. Last Name of President (Jefferson, Johnson, Fillmore, etc.)

Anyone who reads this blog regularly (haha! shyeah right) will know that I am a metalhead of the pre-grunge era so naturally most of my songs will be from metal bands, but I do have a softer side and there are certain not-so-heavy tracks that can give me clarity and bring me back to the land of the living...

• AC/DC - Heatseeker
• The Almighty - I'm In Love (With Revenge), Destroyed, Move Right In
• Angus & Julia Stone - All Of Me, Mango Tree
• Bernard Fanning - Watch Over Me
• The Darkness - Growing On Me, Is It Just Me?
• Evanescence - My Immortal, Lithium, Bring Me To Life, Cloud Nine
• Girlschool - Race With The Devil
• Guns n' Roses - Sweet Child O'Mine, You're Crazy
• The Jeff Healey Band - See The Light
• Jimi Hendrix - Little Wing
• Magic Dirt - Locket, Watch Out Boys, Plastic Loveless Letters
• Megadeth - Tornado of Souls, Peace Sells, Hangar 18
• Metallica - Fade To Black, Metal Militia, The Four Horsemen
• Mindy Smith - I'm Not The Only One Asking, One Moment More, Come To Jesus
• The Offspring - Spare Me The Details
• Powderfinger - Stumblin', (Baby I've Got You) On My Mind
• The Ramones - The KKK Took My Baby Away, Psycho Therapy
• Red Hot Chili Peppers - On Mercury, Roadtrippin', Californication
• The Rolling Stones - Gimme Shelter
• Shane Nicholson - Designed To Fade
• Slayer - Angel of Death, Skeletons of Society, Dead Skin Mask
• Therapy? - Going Nowhere, Stop It You're Killing Me,
• Thin Lizzy - Chinatown, The Rocker, Bad Reputation
• Tom Petty - Free Fallin'
• Weezer - Hash Pipe
• The White Stripes - Seven Nation Army, Icky Thump
• The Wildhearts - Caffeine Bomb, Bi-Polar Baby, Sick of Drugs

I'm sure I've missed a few. So what tracks do it for you? Consider yourself tagged...

So here's one of them, Sick of Drugs by The Wildhearts. Nothing like a video with a budget of a few pounds.

• angel dark pornstars
• british bulldogs on australian idol
• bung fritz
• buy hellman's mayonnaise in adelaide
• cameron diaz legs
• cameron diaz porn
• one day we'll live forever but not in our lifetime

Good to see someone else in Adelaide has also searched high and low for Hellman's Mayo. In ten years in Australia, Coles have sold it and stopped selling it twice. The alternative to Hellman's is diabolical, even if there are shelves at the supermarket with thirty different varieties - they all taste like creamy vinegar. Saying that, I no longer need it. As of Thursday I'm down another kilo and on track to reach the first target weight.

Bung Fritz is a search term that is found in the logs every month and I think is a reference to my infamous fight with a takeaway pizza a couple of years ago where I ended up in hospital.

So today is the last day of the four-day holiday weekend. We've taken it pretty easy, got loads of stuff done around the house, spent all day shopping on the Saturday and had a few friends and family members over for some wine, cheese and nibbles (and Easter eggs for the kids) on the Sunday. We seem to do something on the Easter Sunday every year, but we're not religious in the slightest - it just works out to be the best day to fit in a few drinks with the benefit of a recovery day on Easter Monday.

Back to work tomorrow. This week is gearing up to be a very crappy one. Ho hum.

Although you can't tell from reading, there was a slight pause when I typed Manic Monday - I think that was a flashback to The Bangles, Susannah Hoffs and those very short skirts. It was great growing up in the 80's.

If you could have any music group or musician play at a party, who would you hire?

It depends entirely on the party. It could be AC/DC or it could be Sheryl Crow, but at this particular time I think it would have to be Angus & Julia Stone. It's hard to explain, but seeing and hearing A & J play transports me to a place where nothing exists but the music. If you love music, you'll know what I mean ... I'm just having trouble explaining it. I've tagged on the clip for their song Wasted below. Ok, so this particular example isn't really party music, but they are great anyway ...

Name three things to be happy about today.

It's Tuesday and that means only two more days unitl the four-day weekend. I finally feel like I'm top of a couple of issues at work. The kids are in bed and it's quiet!

How do you release frustration?

I don't, I hold it in! When it does finally get out I've been known to kick some inanimate objects. I know a printer cabinet at my last work place that still bears the mark/dent of my foot. Shock horror! Who would have thought?? I don't generally lose my cool. I do release frustration through music. There's nothing like pounding out some rock or metal at high volume to release any tension.

You're tagged if you've read this far...

Well, not since I was about 12 years old and my brief flirt with the fantasy world ended almost as quickly as it had started.

He used to read the fantasy adventure books where you could choose your own storyline. If you don't remember these, they were the books that had a question at the end of every page. For example, if you wanted to attempt to slay the big, red, nasty dragon with a spatula and a stick of celery turn to page 89 or alternatively if you wanted to dress up as a damsel in distress and run like buggery, turn to page 78.

My brother had invited me to join in one day (probably when his mates were busy) and we created a new character for me. I named him Landon after the character in the adventure book of his that I had been reading. He was an Elf and in my mind he looked somewhat like a taller version of the boy Elfling in The Dark Crystal. We set him up with his standard characteristics like strength, charisma, etc. I had my first (and my last) D&D character. And he was cool. (C'mon, an adolescent kid getting the opportunity to chat up naked deities would appeal to any male kid of that age?!).

So, over the space of a few weeks we did play a few simple dungeons and my character gradually built up from a little weakling into a slightly larger one. He collected gold, he killed nasty Orcs and learned a few magic spells that could get him out of some sticky spots. Unfortunately he didn't learn quite enough.

Somewhere along the line my brother and I must have had an argument about something. I came home from playing football one day to find out that my hero, Landon, had been playing without me. He'd gone on a quest with my brother's characters and got himself into one of those sticky spots that couldn't be unstuck.

I was mortified to find out that Landon had been banished to hell. Could he get out? Apparently, to do this, he would have to challenge Beezelbub. The devil himself. In real life I guess Landon would have to hire a nuclear arsenal, some holy water and maybe a few sticks of celery to beat the crap out of Mr. Evil. In D&D terms all he needed to do was roll a 20 on a 20-sided dice. Not once, not twice, but 20 consecutive times. This dude was utterly fucked! Landon would rot in hell for eternity. No more naked dieties or love-starved fairies for him.

In hindsight it was obviously a set up. At the time I couldn't see that.

On that day my brief flirt with 100% Geekiness died forever. I still cringe when I see 20-sided dice.

Give me a game of Perudo with standard dice any day.

If you didn't know, Adelaide is celebrating it's record-breaking 2,181st consecutive day with temperatures over 198 degrees celsius and it is freakin' hot. Tuesday is supposed to be down to a rather cool (by comparison) 30 degrees and then we're down into the twenties leading up to the Easter Weekend. I think I also heard that it hasn't rained for 50+ days.

The weekend started well on Friday night after work, downing a couple of pints of Pure Blonde (very low carbs) with some of the crew from work at the local pub.

Saturday was a lazy day. Damn Facebook and Scrabulous took up most of a completely sinful, unproductive morning. Hey, I did do the dishes albeit in the dishwasher, a little bit of grocery shopping and cooked a mighty fine Chicken Tikka Massala. Last night we sat down and watched Jumper (see the trailer here and watch out for little Billy Elliott all grown up). I had been told it was not that good, but we liked it.

Sunday was taken up by the open day at Abbey's school. Normally these are held up at the main campus, but this year they decided to split them across the main campuses. We were hoping it would have been cancelled because of the heat, but no such luck. It's usually a very yawn-worthy affair with lots of religion and singing, neither of them my cup of tea unless I've had a few beers first. The service was rushed at super-speed and the ever-stuttery principal still managed to screw up his speech five times in two minutes.

The second part of the open day was a little more interesting as we got to walk around the parts of the school we wouldn't normally see, such as the new classrooms Abbey will move to in a couple of years time and the library. The temptation to buy hot dogs was almost too great, but we managed without.

Although I haven't mentioned it here (hell, I ain't mentioned much recently) I have been trying to cut the crap out of my daily diet for the last few weeks. Bar a minor indiscretion while we were on holiday I haven't eaten chocolate since Christmas. In more recent weeks I've started watching everything else a little more closely and have dropped about 4kgs since I began doing it seriously. Once the heat wears off a bit, I'll hit the treadmill (or maybe the road) and try and burn some weight off in addition to the calorie control.

Current weight as of Thursday morning is a rather podgy 94.2kgs. First goal is 85kgs and then hopefully down to 75kgs. I think that's my ultimate goal. Gotta say goodbye to those damn love handles...

After two three-day working weeks because of the Port Lincoln trip, the Easter weekend will present two four-day working weeks. This week may see a day trip to Melbourne and it looks like I am back off to Germany for a week in April for a conference and some workshops. It doesn't seem like six months since my last overseas travel.

I am still majorly bummed out at the loss of guitar legend Jeff Healey last week. As we all do going through our most impressionable years, we become attached to the famous icons that mean the most to us. To think that such a great, inspirational guy has gone is incredibly sad. I've been listening to a lot of his music again since hearing the news. It had been a while since I'd really sat down and cranked up his music...

I'll end this post with a YouTube clip (poor VHS quality with out of sych dubbing, but still good) of Healey playing with another favourite guitar god of mine, Stevie Ray Vaughan, who also died too early back in the early 1990's. Strange to think that Eric Clapton should also have been on the helicopter that killed him.

Last night we got back from our short family holiday to Port Lincoln on the Eyre Peninsula. Short in duration, but not in kilometres. I had to hit a target amount of kilometres in the car before the end of March for tax reasons so we decided to take the trip to the Eyre Peninsula for a holiday and catch up with Jo's mate Amanda and her family. We hadn't driven too far with the kids to date with the furthest being the 100 or so km's to Victor Harbour. Abbey asked if we were nearly there about 10 minutes into the journey on that trip, so taking the three kids as far as Port Lincoln was daunting to say the least.

To help them out on the trip we bought a DVD player so they could at least occupy themselves for a few hours of the trip. We were still a little nervous as Scarlett tends to get bored of movies within 10 minutes of pressing play.

To their credit, the kids did fantastically well. The first minor argument was only 15kms outside of Port Lincoln after 615kms had already passed. On the way back there were no issues at all and we actually travelled some 750kms on the return journey taking in a different route via Amanda's house.

Leaving at 9.15am we took the more obvious route there, heading north on the Port Wakefield road through Snowtown, the discovery site of South Australia's worst murder case, up to Port Pirie and Port Augusta where we stopped for lunch for a while just under half-way into the trip. From there we headed back south down the other side of the Spencer Gulf passing through the dusty red Whyalla, stopping briefly at Cowell and then all the way down to Port Lincoln, arriving around 4.45pm.

We stayed at the Port Lincoln Tourist Park in a modern cabin that could sleep six. We were very happy with the location and the accommodation - very clean and almost everything we needed. We had taken some pita breads down to make some quick homemade pizza's when we got there, but there wasn't an oven or grill so we ended up getting takeaway pizza. After that we took the kids to the playground and then a walk along the small beach that was located within the park before getting a reasonably early night to prepare us for the next day.

On Friday we took ourselves down to the Port Lincoln foreshore. Jo had lost her voice after suffering with a cold in the earlier part of the week so a quick visit to the chemist was also in order.

After lunch we mosied on over (cos we're in the country now) to Amanda's place out at Cummins. On the drive up there we could still see the damage from the major bush fires that happened back in January 2005.

Amanda's husband Greg took us on a farm tour which was very interesting to us city folk, despite Amanda pre-warning us it would be quite the opposite. We all loved getting a closer look at everything on the farm, from hearding the sheep in the ute (with the older kids riding in the back), driving across the great expanse of fields, seeing the pesty snails that can cause alot of problems right the way through to seeing the trucks and the machinery and learning such things as how much the equipment can cost, how much fuel would be consumed and how so much of the machinery these days uses GPS to assist with navigation. (Amanda - we loved it. Really!).

We headed out for tea at a pub in Tumby Bay with A & G and their three kidlets. After a great chat over dinner and probably the best chicken schnitzel by far that I've had in the ten years I've been in Australia, we all headed out to the beach at dusk for a paddle in the sea, a walk along the jetty and then a rest for the grown ups on the grass while the kids took over the playground.

Although we thought we'd chosen a great time of year to go Adelaide has just experienced a record run of days over 35 degrees with not much change expected over the next week. Although it's apparently a little cooler on the Eyre Peninsula than in the city area, the few days we were there were an exception to the general rule and it was in the very high 30's every day. Because of this we took it easy on the Saturday, going a little off-road to visit the Glen Forest animal park in the morning. The best part of the visit was definitely the aviary where were all able to feed the birds who came to perch on our arms and peck the seeds from our palms. The kids loved it (as did the big kids), although Scarlett's cry of "arrrgh" any time any animal came near her was hilarious for us but probably quite unsettling for the animals.

We had a break back at the cabin for a few hours during the hottest part of the day and then headed out to Winters Hill lookout to take bird's eye view of Port Lincoln. The views were stunning.

After tea we headed back to the beach at the cabin park just as the sun was starting to set for the day. We all paddled in the shallow depths as the waves lapped around our ankles. Jo and I spotted a flat fish (sorry, don't know it's real name but I am sure it tastes ok) which was almost invisible. The kids couldn't see it, but shortly after we all stopped in our tracks to watch a seal swim slowly across between the two jetties either side of us. It was a great end to a good, but hot day.

On Sunday we arranged to meet Amanda and her family again out at Coffin Bay after an early lunch. We headed out to the Coffin Bay National Park and they led us to the most beautiful beach I've been fortunate enough to put foot on. Now remember I've been raised on crappy, crowded English beaches and I've never been to the Mediterranean or the Caribbean, so to see such a pristine beach with crystal clear blue waters and only having to share it with maybe 10 people is something new to me! As A & G explained to us it wasn't a great beach for swimming because of the various rips, but after a little paddle we all wandered around the corner and found a few small rock pools for the kids to explore, collect a few shells and look for some wildlife.

We headed out to Farm Beach which was much more swim-friendly and we all managed to get a good dip and escape from the beating sun for a while. The kids build sand-castles in between dips in the ocean and Scarlett did her best attempt at swimming stopping just short of drowning thanks to some intervention, but thankfully it didn't put her off playing in the water as I'd half expected.

It didn't take long to dry off in the sun and we headed out for a BBQ at A & G's friends house. (Side note, when being hosted by locals always leave enough time for goodbyes as you leave the beach because they know EVERYONE!). The food and beer was a fitting end to a great day for us. Abbey got really sad when we left. She was having so much fun that she didn't want it to end. There's nothing you can really say to a nine-year-old. We all felt the same way. For the drive home from Coffin Bay we had been warned about the Roos coming out onto the roads so we took it easy. Luckily all we saw was a wild cat which I'm sure Jo would have adopted if I had slowed enough for her to get out of the car and pick it up.

I'd heard the drive could be pretty boring (Amanda - you were right about Cummins to Kyancutta) but on the whole I found it fascinating watching the landscape change so much as the kilometres rolled by. This was the first time I've really encountered parts of the Australian outback.

I want to go back.

Abbey is currently saving her pocket money so she can move us all there.

I saw The Jeff Healey Band play twice in Cambridge during the early 90's and they are two of the best gigs I have been to. I was fortunate enough to meet Jeff at a signing session before one of the gigs where he signed my copy of the See The Light album and my old VHS copy of the Roadhouse movie in which he appeared with Patrick Swayze. I haven't met many famous people, but when I have there's always been an air of "them and us" about them. Jeff was one of the most down-to-earth dudes I've ever met and we chatted effortlessly for a few minutes before I was ushered away.

Now I fully understand that most people would never of heard of him. It's blues, it's not mainstream. The See The Light album sold a million copies in the US alone and he's done pretty well for himself. Watch the YouTube clip of the title track from that album below and you'll see what real musicianship is about. This guy was an absolute genius, a true guitar wizard.

Just one other point through all of this, not that it bothered Jeff, but he's been blind since the age of one. His eyes were the victim of the rare form of cancer that eventually ended his short life. Watch and be amazed by what he could do. RIP Jeff.