Heading out this morning for a trip to Penrith, my turned key in the car ignition was greeted by inactivity. It might be more accurate to say that there was something, the muffled sound of a enfeebled asthmatic, perhaps beneath the bonnet, and a tell-tale flashing of lights on the dash. Dead battery!.

I can't complain because the current battery is the factory-install and nearing 6 years of age, which I am told is the maximum to be expected. Because we have colder winters in the Mountains, batteries are under greater pressure to perform, so going the distance is close to a miracle.

Ann and JJ have gone into town in search of food (Thai Town being the ground zero). I am up to date with all my recordings for 2RPH programs, having completed the Christmas edition of Writers from the Vault yesterday. I guess that means I am really a long way ahead but finding time to record, and the correct conditions for recording, is becoming more difficult.

But what have I to complain about? It is a privilege to do the work that I do, it always has been, and I am greatly blessed in being still able to do it.