1 week ago
6
“Friday’s Herald ran a photograph of dog owner Jodie Humphries, and described her as a ‘Central Coast woman’,” notes Bruce Hyland of Woy Woy. “However, looking closely at the photograph, I cannot see a single pothole in the street, so it can’t be the Central Coast.”
Remaining on four legs, Katrina Watts of Murwillumbah writes: “On my way home, I noticed one of my neighbour’s cattle on the road, but on driving up to the house, found nobody home. Out back, only a border collie in a kennel and a Cavalier King Charles spaniel sleeping under a car observed my arrival. Giving up and getting back in the car, I felt a tug on my trouser leg, the spaniel. As I bent to pat it, there was the owner’s phone number on the collar and contact was made.”
Exercising his right of reply (to Rob Watson), Herman Beyersdorf (C8) of Bangalee confirms, “I have read Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. But Lewis Carroll didn’t seem to know much about the domicile of rabbits. After all, why call it a rabbit hole if the correct terminology is rabbit burrow or warren?”
“As 12-year-olds in the ’60s, lifelong friend Laurie Green and me absconded from Lithgow to the Big Smoke, with monies made from sales of blackberries, scrap metal, mushrooms and cowpats, to visit Luna Park (C8),” says Wolf Kempa, who still resides in the Seven Valleys. “After the mad Tea Cups and Ghost Train, I was right not to get on the Ferris Wheel. Laurie got stuck at the top when it broke down, leaving me squealing with laughter for a couple of hours until he was brought to ground. Had to catch the Mudgee Mail home and even though it arrived at around 1am, neither of our parents were at all concerned. Different times.”
Bruce Moxon of Toongabbie is “interested to see that the cybercrime investigator representing people whose speculative investments in GIM Trading went badly is named Gamble.”
While John Weir of Bigga thinks we should “explain to younger readers that a party line (C8) was not a piece of political punditry,” Viv Mackenzie of Port Hacking recalls that “On December 7, 1941, my aunt (then 17) was working as a telephonist when two important messages had to be relayed: The bombing of Pearl Harbour and the birth of her nephew. The momentous birth took precedence, of course.”
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