I think we must have gone visiting relatives
in Seymour today. All I can
recall is driving through a gully past a stream, where
some Acacias were flowering. It was
raining, and my mother, ever one for categorical statements, told me “it always rains
on the first day of spring”.
Two days until my birthday, and the last day in the week. On your birthday you get off
sports, and I hate sports! Off after lunch to look for Mr. Vining to ask permission.
But I wasn't the first: in front of me
was Olivia Newton-John, asking
for the same thing. I never knew that we were born on the same day.
I claimed this for decades after, but we weren't. It was her birthday, and mine was
two days later. Not a good indication of my deduction powers.
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