Ducking to the side, I narrowly avoid a seagull flying directly at me. There are lots of them about in Circular Quay. I sit down in a restaurant. The waiter brings me the menu. The footnote on the bottom gives a warning to look out for seagulls. Smugly, I think to myself, that doesn’t apply to me. I eat some of my average caesar salad, . I take out my phone to read my book. I don’t even see the gull, the lady on the next table tells me it snatched a piece of chicken off my plate. I recover quickly, ” It’s ok. The seagull can have it – it’s full of gristle.”
I learn later that they have a dog on patrol to chase the seagulls. Could have done with him.
“What’s that?” my Mum asks pointing to a bottle opener on a shelf in a souvenir shop. We take a closer look. Mum picks it up and we look at the label. Kangaroo Scrotum! She quickly drops it and we start giggling.
“I think I’d better wash my hands! Ugh.”
Journeys with my pencil 