It's a magic number

Things do come in threes.

First my laptop crashed, literally (and has fortunately been restored to near perfection after a hard drive replacement from the very generous Apple guys), then the brand new one that Jorge brought back for himself went on the blink almost immediately (it too has now been fully restored to its shiny-new goodness) and then our less-than-one-year-old printer died (planned obsolescence and a low price tag destined it for the dump.)

Jorge, in his infinite kindness, brought home a new printer to allow me to continue working on the tennis club sponsorship letters without interruption, and a wireless modem so we don't all have to huddle around the one tiny table next to the plug anytime someone has to get online. Did I look forward to trying to set up a wireless network on three different operating systems (OSX, Vista, and Sarabelle's XP), knowing that Australia has the reputation as a dumping ground for outdated, defective Asian electronics? Oh, no, I did not. But it went smoothly and I am now ensconced on the couch while Grice huddles at the table with her Sims. Woo hoo, welcome to the twenty-first century.

Three other things that have kept me busy these past three weeks:

1) We are now two-thirds of the way through another junior tennis tournament

2) I've been invited to express my interest in participating on a committee to advise the director-general of Queensland's education department on homeschooling concerns and have replied in the affirmative

3) The tennis club president and I successfully staged a coup, or rather, a sort of mutually beneficial merging, of the district's sporting club (we needed an umbrella organization to cover our incorporation status to go for the big grants and provide the physical property for our efforts to build an additional tennis court; they needed a secretary to keep their incorporation alive. I am now, in effect, writing letters to myself: The tennis club requesting the merge, the sports club welcoming the tennis club onboard, the tennis club thanking the sporting club...

Must practice saying "No."

No, no, no.


Baa, baa, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes, sir, yes, sir,
Three bags full:
One for my master,
And one for my dame,
And one for the little boy
Who lives down the lane.

-- Anonymous