Last night we felt like celebrating. We had nibbles for dinner: nachos, rice crackers and dip, marinated chicken wings, chilli-fried chicken giblets and chocolate icecream. The girls had orange juice in champagne flutes, I bought a bottle of better-than-usual red, because life really is too short to drink bad wine, Bill had a jug of water, and we toasted each other and our esteemed invisible guest. Lolek came over and we emptied the bottle of red while screen printing peace flags, and the kids stayed up way too late for a school night.

This morning I was interested to learn that Bill believes Douglas MacArthur had no choice but to bomb Japan. I told him I thought there was always a choice. For instance, they could have all agreed to call it a day, and gone home to be nice to their kids. He refused to discuss it further with me until I'd read up on it. He said "There's no point having an uninformed discussion."

Well.

So, at the exact time that the other people in Perth who believe that everyone should really make a bit of an effort to be nicer to each other are waving their homemade peace flags at:

Forest Place
5-6:30pm

because they saw it advertised here,

Bill and I will be resuming our own peace talks, under the watchful eye of the Dalai Maharishi.