Day Thirteen of the holiday.

Ah, a night in our own bed.
You all know what it feels like and so you know the pleasure of which I speak.

The real estate sent around a fella today to look at the latch on our rear fly screen door.
Like I already knew there was no fix for this old door so the owner will have to decide if we get a new door?

Tracy and I are back down to manageable levels of mail and our little dog has returned from her holiday at the kennels.

So all should be good with the world except for the weather here now in Sydney.
Damn, must have brought some of the chill up with us from Hobart.

Be careful out there and I'll see you at the Big One.

Taz