Robin Hood

It is not my typical Sunday to be surrounded by gun fire, but since I was at the International Shooting Complex, this would explain why. However it was not the modern day firearms I was welding, but the more classical shot, the bow and arrow.

As every English child has dreamt of being Robin Hood, an opportunity to do archery was not going to slip me by. I have had a couple of goes using professional equipment previously (something like 10 years ago) but never pursued it further aside from personal rudimentary hand made bows fashioned from sticks and string (the best sort). My efforts I’d say were average for a novice, however Fr Zygga (polish priest accompanying our parish youth group) who’s first time it was, scored close to our demonstrators own highest score on the range…which leads one to conclude, never mess with a religious.

War wounds

This is the result of inept bow skills, not because I got in a fight… honest. My elbow for some reason rotates when I straighten my arm (funny bone points downwards, rather than to the side), thus the bowstring kept on hitting my skin… you can see the result. Pain aside, it was still fun, but I’m sticking to ball sports.

After this we had a barbeque at the nearby Whiteman Park, where the concept of chicken sausages was introduced, and actually I rather enjoyed them, more so than the beef sausages that are readily available. What the British know as sausages, pork based, are actually harder to find than the beef counterparts, a crying shame I know.

On Saturday, it was Jon and Nina’s moving day from their rented apartment (common accommodation for people of my age) to their own house. Good news as it makes the baby situation (Nina is due to give birth in July) more manageable, as now they have a permanent residence. We had a good team of guy and girls and a tin of freshly baked Anzac biscuits (traditionally used for the national army food rations). So shifting of furniture from A to B (5 minutes down the road) went smoothly and efficiently, so by evening a lot of the stuff was already unboxed in the new house. The night before when they got the keys, we had champagne and fish n’ chips in the back garden (a new house tradition of this family) and one I rather enjoyed!

An eventful weekend indeed, which left this person rather tired. So as the fish loving Japanese people would say...

Sayonara.