Monday. Well at least I got a post in before a week had passed by.
Fathers Day yesterday and what a cock up it was.
My Dear Old Dad came down to Melbourne from his home in Brisbane last Friday for a funeral, as happens with unfortunate frequency as you get older. When you're 80 as it is in Dad's case, it's a bit like hail, banging away all around you and every one reminding you sooner or later one is gonna hit you on the head.
Sad duties but Dad's a Tough Old Coot and he gets though these necessary reminders of one's mortality with some aplomb.
Unlike me. I've got a funeral tomorrow, a former workmate who was sideswiped by leukemia last week. Not looking forward to it.
Anyway, back to Old Coot's and Cock Ups.
Because of all sorts of miscommunications, assumptions and plain wrong headedness on my part, Dad got the wrong idea and, thinking I had a full weekend with kids and stuff, 'made other plans' while down here, which meant I thought I had a free Sunday morning, ....which meant I went for a splash, ...and afterwards I took some snaps, ...and after that I had a yap with some mates in the carpark, ...and then I took some more snaps, ...and then I got in the car ...and realised I'd just missed a call from him, ...and then he turned his phone off.
For the rest of the day.
So the Roast Lamb Dinner for Father's Day was just us and I felt like a selfish dick head because if I had just called him earlier the whole thing wouldn't have happened.
We caught up finally this morning and managed to have a coffee at the airport and hold hands for a bit.
Sounds silly maybe but I love The Old Coot.
Surfwise, very nice, fairly uncrowded Bells because the unselfish ones were at home with their families, whereas my family's present to Their Old Coot was a surf and I wasn't yelled at by anyone except my conscience.
Pics are, as ever lately, the venerable Bells, a guy about to get shacked at Winki, and the road out from Bells heading to Southside, with a clear indication as to why Australia's colours are green and gold. It's spring, and the wattle is out.