We had been at the show for about 15 minutes when it started to drizzle. The Tamborine Mountain showgrounds are small, with one pavilion building and one arena; a nice size for making your way around slowly with kids. We had come prepared with a motley collection of raincoats and toddler sized snow jacket, and the rain did little to dampen our enthusiasm as we bought a jar of finger lime marmalade, and a packet of sweets, and watched a snake handler casually display a number of poisonous snakes, and talk about how he goes into anaphylactic shock when bitten. It has been so dry recently that any rain is an exciting novelty, even when it’s dripping down the back of your shirt.

I really love going to little country shows, even the expensive rides and the ridiculous games where you’re guaranteed to win a terrible prize which will fall apart 5 minutes after you receive it. I like walking around and looking at the exhibits, reading names and wondering about the identity of the people who have carefully put together the plate of French jellies (what on earth are French jellies) or a decorated set of commercial biscuits. The artwork is always an enjoyable mixture of the quite good and the rather terrible.

As it rained, a mist descended – the mountain no doubt covered in cloud from the perspective of the lowlands. We sat on wet seats and watched a car-pulling competition, with a good-natured selection of motley teams doing their best to haul a car the fastest over 20 metres, the wet ground causing its fair share of slips and falls.

The kids wanted to go on a deserted and soaking-wet bouncing castle, and they jumped around gleefully shrieking, clambering up the slippery ladder and hurtling down the slide into a puddle of water that had gathered at the bottom. They came off as thoroughly wet as if they’d jumped into a pool, hair dripping in their eyes, both talking at the same time. “Did you see me…” “Did you see when I…”

We drove home on the winding road, through thick patches of cloud, trees looming up dark and imposing on each side of the road against the whiteness, the occasional car’s headlights gleaming up through the mist. The rain had stopped, and the kids were damp and silent in the back seat, listening to the tyres swishing on the wet road.

As the office closed early on Friday, we went and played golf. In hindsight I’m not entirely sure why I agreed to go, as I have very rarely played, and it’s not the most fascinating of games. Thankfully, playing with a bunch of lunatics (ie. my workmates) makes it a little more interesting.

I am not so masochistic as to post a photo of what my golf swing looks like, but in the interest of amusement, I will link to it. I’m not quite sure how my wrist bends like that.

In order to recover from the ordeal of golfing, I went and stole a baby and tickled its feet. Very rejuvenating.

And then after I returned the stolen baby, I thought I’d take a couple of family portraits, while everyone else all leapt around like lunatics trying to coax some smiles out of the subject – with some success.

I think I’m improving at portraiture, although I took way too many shots today trying to get those fleeting smiles – editing down from 600 photos is a lot more painful than snapping them off.

I went to visit the Asia Pacific Triennial at the Gallery of Modern Art on the weekend. This was one of my favourite exhibits, a stuffed elk, completely covered in glass globes.

I also loved this huge mushroom-cloud-shaped sculpture of discarded metal – there’s even a trumpet stuck in there near the top.

I’m pretty sure I don’t appreciate art as it’s supposed to be appreciated – for example, this installation comments on Chinese history and conformity and so on, but I just think it looks cool.

Also in the it-looks-cool basket – this wallpaper. I think I may need to paper an entire room in the house in lurid blue paper.

I went down to Thumm Estate this afternoon to celebrate part of Kat’s hen’s weekend – we lunched on bruschetta and smoked salmon terrine, with a sparkling shiraz, then headed over to have a tour of the port barrels.

There was much hilarity.

I bought some coffee liqueur which was just divine, and a sparkling rose which tasted of summertime and honey (and which I am plotting to drink outside, preferably while picnicking).