One of those delightful reading sundays : did a Stephen Fry, and before that Sex and The City.

I wasnt sure about "The Stars Tennis Balls" at first, but had picked SF up purely from seeing him on Parkinson, and the name : Fry. Christopher Fry's oft-quoted verse from "Sleep of Prisoners" i used in a little showlet i did as a teenager in Stanley Palmers' Culture Palace in Darlinghurst. When i opened the book i was pleasantly surprised by the big type, suggesting it wasnt that long a read. Moralistically, i think the change in the book came when Babe noticed a change in Ned. Word-wise, the only phrase i didn't understand was "his own mephitic fug"

By the evening, after a day which was pregnant with a quiet anticipation : would the tigers win; i settled down with the match on, sound down, my book firmly open. I would put my glasses on periodically to check the score, and at one stage i thought the clock had stopped and then realised that there was only minutes left. I dont know the game (as like horse-racing before it i have spent most of my life here deriding it) but nearing the end the Cowboys got a chance for a goal which could have changed the scoreboard. But this morning when my shoulder, which had started hurting on satday night, was actually making me feel sick with pain, i noticed the 'tiger' on the linament packet. Today's main perogative is to ease the pain caused by the temp assignment of copy/pasting all day holding the mouse stationery to ensure the speediest workflow. Now for a speedy recovery before duty calls tomorrow. Go the Tigers!!! LOL