One entire new blog and two whole years after the traffic sign that said
I still haven't had my eyes checked. It's just not the kind of errand that seems urgent, not when your house is full of cat-hair tumbleweeds, your winter doona is still at the dry cleaners' after being left there more than a month ago, and the feral bougainvillea is about to pull the fence down.
So, like the master of avoidance behaviour I have been for so long, I was tending this morning to my FaceBook Farm, which shows you what a plant, animal or building is called whenever you happen to hover the cursor over it. My understanding was that that golden tree is called a Flourishing Birch.
But instead, in a moment worthy of a horror novel involving computers, the text popped up on the screen saying FLOURISHING BITCH.
In which the pond turns to the Caterists and Dame Groan ... - The pond is never sure whether the reptiles are mocking the Donald, or mocking themselves for admitting that they're the Donalds of down under journalism...
9 minutes ago