The voices that travel across the alleyway from the BnB apartment at drink-o'clock are hilarious. One week a bunch of man-childs "rargh rarghing" to the footy finals, another week a bunch of women-childs (wives of man-childs maybe?) speaking a language I simply don't understand. God we're pests when we gather in our flock.

If twtxt is for micro-blogging, what would be the macro-blogging solution that best fits the twtxt philosophy? Something not quite a static site generator or gopher hole? A folder of txts?

Back in the city for a few days, staying again with family. Glebe markets. Think I'm over markets. Junk I don't need. Used to like a proper farmers market where I could get a good load of veg, bread and meat. I got a gozleme. Overpriced but somewhat filling. They're always so hot, straight off the cast iron metal cooking plates, but I don't have the patience to let it cool when hunger is taking over. Went across the road into Sapho's second hand bookshop, a place I can spend hours on any given day, and bought two books I also don't need - one a book on books, The Gutenberg Elegies by Sven Birkerts, and the other, an expected slide into depravity, Snuff by Chuck Palahniuk. Happy to kick my feet up now in the cool of these four walls as the after rains sun starts to make it a little uncomfortable outside. There's a restlessness in me though, maybe a hint of homesickness, or a guilt of not travelling a bit more abroad with my time I've made for myself. Nevermind, a small trip west next week is on the cards, and a loose date for my return to NZ is approaching.

Re-familiarising myself with childhood trails. Overreaching with back to back 15k runs coming off being sick, but I'm having too much fun.

Daylight savings tripping me up again. Even had the date in my calendar. I'm in the wrong country though! Australia is a week after NZ damnit.

Back onto the omelettes. So versatile! Throw in anything. Chives, spinach, mint, mushroom, ham, chorizo, silverbeet, tomato, cheese. Whatever's at hand. Fluff it up with milk, or don't. Salt and pepper. Nom nom.

Identified the Little Wattlebird as the early riser with the big voice.

Couldn't help myself. Made a personal HTML twtxt stream. Respects light/dark mode, shows images, filters out threaded posts.

Haul from the local Lifeline bookfair.

Moved from Bitwarden to KeePassXC for better keyboard shortcuts and cloudless device syncing. So far so good.

Morning observations (back in the city for a night, noticable differences): Birdsong awakenings replaced by alleyway echoes of a tormented man crashing into steel roller doors, wailing through toothless gums bang bang boom boom, fck off fck off. Helicopter hovering above almost directly, scouting something. Miners and magpies still squarking occasionally between mankind.

Reading mojo back in full force. Locking it in with Will Self's "Why Read".

Miners coming in for breakfast, and the ever so serious and mysterious Frank the Tank being a creep.

I think I'm finally getting over this cold. Hoorah.

Visitors this morn: A friendly, collared, orange/black/white cat. Saw the tail of a blue-tongued lizard, stood over that part of the garden it disappeared into until a magpie started swooping and snapping at it.

I wonder if belching randomly into a microblogging medium has any healthy benefits. Or maybe unhealthy? Then again, if it's just writing like this, it already existed in my head, so no harm right?

A neighbouring house has a hum, like a bathroom fan, that I cannot un-hear.

Visitors this morn: A Grey Butcherbird picking up some treats on the lawn, and a Noisy Miner enjoying a drink of nectar from the Bird of Paradise.

I have nothing to do. It's great.

Here I go again... micro writing. Twtxting is quirky as.