Once upon a time I knew a Greek gentleman who owned a 'fish and chip shop'. Some people thought of it as more of a 'hamburger joint' or 'steak house', while others referred to it lovingly as a 'greasy spoon'. The owner was a humble and kindly fellow, who worked hard, loved to philosophise, and was proud of the food and beverages that he served in what he referred to as his 'coffee lounge'. 

This year's harvest of Australian macadamias is almost finished and the season has been a cracker, so make sure you pop some Aussie macadamias into the market basket when you go shopping this weekend.

In the 1960s when I was in primary school, my friends and I would pop over to the milk bar at the village shopping centre that was right next door to our school. This was in the good old days when a kid could buy a decent-sized bag of mixed lollies with around twenty cents. Looking back, I don't really know how the owner of the store stayed sane, with a gaggle of little children standing at his counter for what seemed like ages, eyes wide, umming and ahing, and doing their best to choose a good selection of sweeties. I do know that my dentist was a happy man, that I can tell you for certain.

As the marketing and events manager of a fresh produce market (in a former lifetime), one of the initiatives I implemented was market tours for school groups. I felt a little bit like the Pied Piper of Hamelin, leading groups of 60 children or more, and their teachers, through the centre. With the help of the store owners, the tours became quite an adventure and the children were always delighted, awestruck and fascinated. 

There comes a time in a person's life when they find themselves morphing into one (or both) of their parents. It may be in mannerisms, appearance, body shape, health (both good and bad), habits (yes, good and bad), or things that one thinks to themselves or (heaven forbid) speaks out aloud. It may be just one, or all, of the above (ouch, was that I shudder I heard coming from your direction?).

Many years ago, in a former lifetime, I worked with a lady named Thelma who had a pet cockatoo. The bird spent much of it's time sitting on a perch which was stationed in a little alcove just outside the bathroom. It was an old but nonetheless lively fellow that talked and danced. One of its favourite sayings, much to the dismay and embarrassment of my friend, was 'Watchya doing now darling', which it would repeat over and over anytime anybody entered or exited the area. Clearly the man of the house had a sense of humour that didn't quite match with that of his wife!