My Friend Stella

My daughter - blood daughter as opposed to step-daughter - flitted in & out this weekend, as is her wont. She rolled up 8:00pm Friday night with a six-pack of Stella Artois, introducing me to "my friend Stella" and wishing me a happy birthday. Nice thought. I love foreign beers.

I didn't see the kids a lot this weekend. They both had things to see, places to go, people to do. That was fine and we've both become comfortable with the idea that 'our' kids - hers and mine - have grown up. They are all adults now. Even Ashley, my youngest. A young man 1 month away from legal adulthood, who can drive, has worked in one form or another since age 14, and is currently studying structural engineering. Loving it too. It's one thing I'm grateful for. Two of my three children are on paths to successful, professional careers which they will enjoy and be comfortable within. My eldest, actually my second by two minutes, child Matthew, baled from University because he suddently realised, much like his father did, that his path wasn't all that defined. He needed to define it and has sought to do so since leaving school and dropping out of Uni. He currently works for Hutchison Telecommunications in a responsible capacity earning some $35k/annum. Damn good money for a 20 year old in anyone's language.

My wife's daughter - my step-daughter - is already a woman in every sense of the the word. She's is a mother, a wife and lover to Daniel, my son-in-law. Daniel is Danish by birth and British by citizenship. He's a geek. An I.T. oriented, talented and authoritative geek. He's also a gamer. For those of your who, like me, don't ken that lingo.....his hobby is playing computer games. A very, very niched and cliched occupation. Suffice to say we rarely mesh on any level. Nice guy.........but a geek.

My Mate Stella

So, here I am at 1900 hours on a Sunday evening, having 'eaten' my friend Stella six times (eat your hearts out, ladies) and left her exhausted & discarded, having moved on to a local 'lady' who is more robust, writing to you all about the life and times of an ageing Aussie male who'd love to share his photo with you all but isn't quite sure you're ready for the adamantine beauty of such a chiselled physique. Que?? Am I pissed?  How rude!!!!

Yes....I believe I might be approaching that point, but gee whiz.......isn't it fun?