It's all about Darwin, Darling

As one who generally discovers fashion at the precise moment when the leaders of the pack declare that particular look is passé, there is a certain sweet triumph in being a trendsetter, so the news that Lonely Planet had voted Darwin as one of the top 10 cities to visit in 2012 was a vindication of our ravings about what a fabulous holiday we had in Darwin and the Northern Territory, and I am taking particular pleasure in saying “Darwin, oh yes, just been there. Fabulous, Darling, Absolutely Fabulous” in best Joanna Lumley style.

The dog and builder are making a slow and steady recovery. The builder did take on a Scarlet Pimpernel quality last week in terms of a “they seek him here, they seek him there” feel and I increasingly nervous that we were creeping dangerously close to December where based on my experience all good, and most of the shonky tradesmen disappear for the start of summer and the lure of the surf and sand. However the good news is that like buses, you wait for two weeks for a single tradesman to show and then suddenly as with yesterday, you wake up to find the place is overrun with burly men working in five different places in what one can only hope is a smoothly choreographed manoeuvre.

A friend’s corgi was run over yesterday in dramatic fashion in front of owner, friend and small child. Fortunately he survived going under front and back wheels of a car, though his owner nearly succumbed to a heart attack . Apparently part of the miraculous cheating death experience, can be attributed to lots of thick hair, a build that can only be described as padded and short, big bones – this is all sounding dangerously close to home but at least it is making me feel good about my chances if squashed by something.

Am slightly concerned that the recent birthday heralds the start of my loosing my marbles –I realised with horror this week that I had transferred the payment for the combined gas and electricity bill into Drama Queen No.1’s bank account. Given the lavish way the Drama Queens splash the hot water around in the shower and the household tendency to flick the heating on when the Sydney temperature drops below a level where shorts are a preferred option, we would obviously be one of the energy company’s favourite customers and had DQ No.1 checked her bank account she would have discovered that she was wealthy beyond her wildest dreams (bear in mind normal balance hovers around zero apart from the nano second when her monthly allowance gets paid in). Discovery of the error was enough to have me scuttling down to the bank to remedy the situation in a race against time before she inserted her card into an ATM and discovered the Gods had smiled and coffees were on her.