Dear Diary

Had a wonderful night; caught up with a bunch of wonderful people. Getting a bus to North Adelaide for the do meant a fairly good walk to catch one that would land right out the front of the Royal Oak. Therein it was happy birthday to you Sarah Martinelli so glad to see you, and you too Chris and Ashley,  Matt , Kristy and Drew. At nearly ten, after a lovely time and lots of food and a handful of trendy craft pints, a quick check of the very smart phone shows that an infrequent bus home goes past the door in three minutes. Quick kisses and handshakes and the bus is on time, and the speedster at the wheel is in my distant northern suburb in a flash. And just as I get off the bus all the lights in my suburb go out.

With a heavily overcast sky I can't see the footpath or the fences or the gutter.  The lights from approaching cars shine in my face preventing any chance of my eyes adjusting to the dark. It's a strained walk home. At my front door a kilometre and a half later, that very smart little phone provides a torch to find the lock and get inside and to start lighting candles. I can still light the gas and boil the kettle but I can't watch TV. The wifi is out, so here's a chance to turn on the very smart phone hotspot to connect 3G to the smart iPad, and start composing a first world whinge blog after this spooky end to my rare saturday night out . The candles are throwing all the light I need, Facebook is fired up, cup of hot tea at hand - and the lights come back on.

And now my house pongs with that rank smell that comes from blowing out candles.