Steve reckons Australia must be very Catholic cos just about everything is closed on Good Friday. He tells the story of going to Ireland over Easter and not being able to buy a beer...my god what a sad old tour that must have been.
So today, I think there is some sort of logical ruling that if a shop sells perishables and they WANT to open they can, but all the interesting shops are just not allowed. I could very possibly have made all that up.
The Sorrento IGA was open so I could get some mushrooms to make a big flash French dinner for Belly and Zig for tomorrow. Yeh, really it is just meat and mushrooms and lashings of red wine, but it's pretty nice to eat. No morning coffee though cos Avril was closed.
So I pottered around all day with this and that and measured the height of my grass crop. Madness set in and I cleaned out the fridge cos even though it's good friday, friday is my rubbish day and I figured there was an off chance they might be by. Then I forgot about it. Bin duty is not usually on my list. I was watering the grass and saw Elizabeth from across the street and she was bringing her bins IN. It quickly transpired that they were indeed empty and I might have missed the truck.
Dib and I ran down the road and looked in neighbours bins to find that they were get to be hoisted onto the truck, so in a flurry, I dragged both bins out just in time to see the trucks dancing towards us.
How lucky can a gal be.
But how does it happen on a day, in a country where no newspapers are printed, and pubs are closed, that the rubbish trucks are out and about. Sure they are collecting stuff that is or at least was perishable - now well passed its use - by date, but it could wait.
I guess they are on triple or fiffple or sixle time and the work is probably pretty quick cos people are away and idiots like me forget, but still it strikes me as very odd.
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