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Cup Day Barbecue
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gemsling
"The race that stops a nation," they call it. What an odd notion, that everyone (well, a goodly portion) would stop and watch horses run around a track for a few minutes. Or that they'd organise events around it. Not that I'm knocking the latter.

Today: Cup Day barbecue at Pat's, doubling as an engagement celebration for Jenny and Richard. All Hartwell people. Lots of kids for Jesara and Joshua to play with. At least, two hours after arrival once they finally got used to the dogs: I thought I was going to spend the whole day with Jesara climbing up my neck and Joshua screaming out "I'm scared! Daddy, I'm scared!"

The nation-stopping race interrupted a lovely conversation with Bob about music halls and melodramas. We would have continued, but others insist we come and watch the television.

I would be a lousy jockey. Or any sportsman, really. As soon as I realise that there's no chance of winning, I'd be out of there. Why keep chasing other horses around the track, or other players on the football field, if you're going to lose anyway? Seriously, if you toss a coin in a "best out of three" contest and one player wins the first two tosses, you don't toss the coin a third time just for the sake of it!

But, as I said, I'll accept the excuse for a public holiday. It's nice not having to miss out on a good day. When doing shift work, I didn't mind working on Cup Day if there was nothing on, but there were occasions where I had to miss a barbecue, or leave early to start work.

Now what do I do?
- Type up a list of product features for tomorrow's meeting?
- See what photos the kids shot when they took control of my camera? (It survived again, happily.)
- Go to bed?

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