St George and the silver fox

You will be relieved to hear that St George (Hospital) did not defeat the silver fox and he has come through the surgery with his vocal chords and sense of humour intact. As I write, it is early the morning after and we have not yet heard from the surgeon about what they found and what happens next.  But the important thing is that David is awake and smiling. Here's the trip.

 Called in at Hornsby to see Peter and Marjory, and found the road gang there, doing the kerb and guttering thing. Always entertaining to watch a road gang. This one was a well oiled machine. I suppose they have to be quick, considering how many kilometres of ground in Sydney is covered with kerbs and gutters.

 Here is our destination, the centre of the Emerald City, gleaming on the horizon as the rain clouds loomed in. We ignored that omen. Stupid superstitious rubbish.

 I prefer the symbolism of light at the end of the tunnel. The Lane Cove Tunnel as it happens. I am rather proud of this shot. David was driving by this time as I had driven the rest of the way. Nigel the navigator took us a new and interesting route to Linda's house in Surry Hills. Never a dull moment with Nigel. But at least we didn't have to do George Street again.

Went by train to the scene of the forthcoming encounter with St George (in Kogarah)

St George Private Hospital is a rather 5 star sort of establishment. Here we are in our personal waiting room, ready for the admission process to happen. There was a very Vaucluse elderly couple in the next cubicle, she in patent leather heels and a pashmina, talking all the time in a nervous bray; he in Gucci loafers and white socks, and a Prince Valiant haircut, not saying much. I suspect he was the patient.

And here he is, the survivor of the battle after 3 hours of surgery and two hours in recovery, doing his impersonation of being an angry boy from Dunt.  Linda and I were both there when he came back from surgery and did our best to look like two wives. I could see the staff were a bit confused, didn't know who to look at to give their reassurances that all was wonderfully well.