Ah, g’day! Well as you’ve probably heard by now I’ve emigrated to Australia. I’m missing my family but it seems like a great place, full of sea, sand, snakes, and venomous spiders, one of which bit me on the buttock when I stooped beside a barbecue at the weekend. I’m missing my family but they’ll be coming over before too long, provided we sell the house back in Macclesfield (please buy it! One careful owner! Etc.) Once everyone is over here I doubt I’ll miss England at all. Australia seems quite idyllic in a far away, utterly terrifying, and slightly barren way.
Well the other day we had special visitors down here in Australia: the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, also known as William and Kate. They were coming to where I work as we’re the premier IT company in Australia, us having seven computers, a Lexmark printer, and a flip-chart. They seemed really lovely and the press were out in force, taking photos of Wills and Kate, not to mention me as I’m something of a local celebrity being a new arrival from England - the last new arrival from England before me was bird flu. As is traditional with these events some local children were there to hand posies of flowers to the Duchess, and she spent some time chatting with each of them, especially one little girl who had a plastic tube running up her nose, clearly feeding her with oxygen or something, and it was obvious that she was a sickly child. After a few moments Kate started to weep, and as the closest adult I reached into my pocket to produce a handkerchief, but the one I’d brought was a novelty one from a honey manufacturer I’d once visited back in England and it had a silly picture of a happy bee wearing a crown printed on it. I passed it to Kate, she smiled and said thank you, and dabbed at her eyes, mopping the tears away. The photographers went wild, and I could hear the cameras clicking away, and in the background a TV or radio reporter talking twenty to the dozen.
“Aw, won’t you look at that. There’s Kate, having a cry, dabbing her eyes with some kind of a regal bee hanky.”
Arighi Bianchi. That overpriced, snooty furniture vendor by Macclesfield station. How I despised that shop, but oh, how I miss thee, sweet Macclesfield. Why did I leave you for this God-forsaken desolate scab of a place? I’ve been such a fool.
(Note - If you didn't work for Xpertise Training and regularly read "The Mushroom Factory" you'll have no idea what the heck this all means. If on the other hand you did, you may enjoy it. The idea just came to me this morning as I drove to an onsite course in Stafford and I liked it, so ner.)
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