Avoiding jobs was working until the raffle win

SEVERAL months ago Long Suffering Wife demanded I address some urgent jobs around the yard, but my old wheelbarrow was called to the Great Shed in the Sky so they got put on hold.

Lucky me.

Last weekend the topic was raised again, so we sailed off to buy a new wheelbarrow, but I somehow took a wrong turn, and we ended up in Yarwun where the Model Aeroplane Club was holding an exhibition.

We checked out the numerous models on display, then watched the little planes spinning and twisting through the sky quicker than a politician dodging tricky questions.

While I gained an encyclopedic knowledge of miniature flight, Long Suffering Wife bought some raffle tickets, then started stabbing at her watch and nodding towards the car.

Unfortunately, the wheelbarrow shops had closed by the time we got to town.

Our next stop was a night of high culture with the ladies of the Gladstone Roller Derby Club.

Once we'd worked out the basic "rules", it was a hoot!

After witnessing a roller brawl that ended with half the squad being sent off for crimes against humanity, I said to Long Suffering Wife, "You should do this!"

Apparently she will, but only if I start playing rugby league.

On Sunday morning, after scoffing down the breakfast of champions (toast smothered with bacon), we did the Botanic to Bridge fun run, and carved a large space in the tightly packed crowd around us with some moves we'd learned at the roller derby.

Afterwards, while opening a post-fun run beer, the phone rang.

"Congratulations," said the chap from the model aero club.

"You've won a wheelbarrow full of groceries."

My whispered pleas to give me the food while they kept the barrow were ignored, and they thoughtfully dropped everything off early enough in the day for me to start tackling those urgent jobs.

Just my luck.