"Honey - the neighbours are burning tyres again, come look!"

I know it's time for a break when I no longer regard the sight/smell of the neighbours burning old tyres as an amusing little PNG ancedote, but simply as an act of terrorism. The noxious chemicals drifted into my sacred safe space this morning and I was woken in a burnt-rubber fueled daze. I thought Port Moresby must have been on fire again (although this is generally more common on Fridays), and pulled the curtains open in a panic to see the old familiar sight of the fire under the mango tree and a few people standing around ... watching the fire. Cue image of frustrated housewife peering out window from the third story before slamming windows closed and walking off in a huff.

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I saw Julia G interviewed this week with Kerry O ... (I am just trying out hip-hop names for them - I don't think it works). Look - I'll be honest. The first thing I thought was 'Julia - do your roots!'. I tried listening to the inty, but I was too distracted. Ordinarily - I am a strong advocate for not focusing on the girly things of our female political leaders and have in the past been outraged by callous and bitchy remarks in this context. But then I thought about it some more. And concluded thus: In order not get people talking, just do your roots. No shame in getting a stylist. Lots of people in public life do it, it means you are probably going to be less susceptible to criticism and maybe even end up on some Best Dressed lists (every girl's dream!). Would that be so bad? And yes - I agree the argument remains that it is the policy detail and leadership attributes that go to the core of the person and why they are there. It's just that I'm not really getting that either at the moment. Come on Julia - please make a comeback!

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Our baby is walking. It is bringing me a lot of joy and warm fuzzies to watch her launch into free space from the lounge, across the shagpile to the other lounge. One leg in front of the other, hands in the air, and occasional announcement that declares simply "walk!" and eventual squeals of victory when reaching the destination (or a big heavy thump on the ground in less successful missions). It is so much fun to watch her excitement at this new way of getting around, and just a little bit amazing to think that a small red wrinkly being can morph into this excitable moving squealing little person in such a relatively short amount of time. Sigh. I heart this period with her a lot. The end of baby and the beginning of little person.