little memory -
we're at Clareville it's night, we're talking about the bilby, it's been rustling down the side of the house, maybe L saw it come inside. we make sad jokes about the neighbour with the leafblower. late at night. sounds or the thought of sounds, neighbour's dog barking or it's ours, a doorbell, thought of a halloween party, a fake moustache. actually I recall we made a moustache out of fine black (chow-chow) dog-hair. I think we taped it by the door to wear in case of strange visitors.

sounds of the boat masts clinking in the inlet. you move at the wrong moment and a baby possum freaks out and falls out off the trunk of a gum tree onto the verandah, onto its head.