Splendid work

A day of achievement, thanks to the following.

1. Keeping a low profile after joining last night's Expat Woman Divorced & Separated Drinking Group.

Really they are not called that, and I take it back immediately in case I'm due a punch in the mouth next time I'm standing on Main Street buying my island bananas.

I cannot drink like them, that's for sure. And, after hearing the story of how one of them picked a fight with two nuns, I warn you, these are not women to be messed with. They have not cultivated that weedy Passive/Aggressive nonsense like you have to do when you're married; they're more direct action, deliberate vengeance, knock-out-your-two-front-teeth types. I like them. And I hope none of them checks out this blog.

(If you are wondering where I stowed Shark, Squirrel and Tiger on Grit's boozy night out, they stayed out of it and tortured some hapless teenager with a Harry Potter quiz.)

2. Sipping fresh coconut juice to restore my electrolyte balance.

Thanks to last night, I eschew Coke Zero and Blue Girl lager for the healthy rebalancing formula of sodium, potassium and chloride made fresh from the coconut tree.

You can buy these green beauties for HK$13 outside the island 'supermarket'.

('Supermarket' my eye. They are a lock-up shed with a trolley. The only item I have ever seen in the trolley is the family's two-year old.)

Anyway, the electrolytes. All my being must be turned to educational advantage bringing benefit to the next generation. Thus, in the course of researching potassium in electrolytes on the internet to serve as a example of normal functioning liver, I became accidentally diverted by titanium hip joints. I made the children watch instructional videos about having metal rods inserted through your abdomen.

3. Asking 'When are you coming back?'

Mostly to Squirrel who excused herself from the age-inappropriate Anatomy and Physiology lesson on the grounds that she had a sleepover to arrange with her island friend.

I waved her off, this afternoon, gone until tomorrow. I now think she must be someone else's child, because the family she's going to live with tonight keep a dog - a bushy monobrowed hairy thing, but with a strangely winning smile. Delightfully, she is not afraid of it, much. Apparently it only bites children who are very irritating and under one meter tall.

4. Saying 'That's amazing!'

To Shark, who removed my empty coconut shell to paint it orange and stab holes in it with her penknife.

(Yes, Shark, Squirrel and Tiger all carry knives. That is because we can be trusted with knives. Unlike in England. There a kid with a knife is assumed to be a social horror, a deviant and a murderer out to take vengeance on their classmates. Rather than a child who wants to master correct handling of traditional tools and how to whittle wood.)

Shark has made a face in the coconut shell; this is sensible, because soon it is Hallowe'en. We need to experiment with carving up any rounded foodstuffs in lieu of pumpkins. I can buy those, but at too high a price to supply the experimental crafting needs of three enthusiastic children.

5. Congratulating everyone on not smashing up the house.

After the emotional exhaustion of yesterday, Tiger in particular has returned to her lovely semi-neurotic state. She is an oasis of calm.

Well, more precisely, a simmering lake of burning resentment. Daddy Dig on his travels is touching her precious English soil. Nevertheless, this Hong Kong house is now semi-restored to a condition that looks like it was only burgled, rather than the scene of a brutal crime involving a stuffed dragon.

So I consider the day a fine achievement! Education, socialisation, and a restored electrolyte balance. Satisfying.