Given that today is Anzac Day, I suppose I ought to have got up uber-early and gone into the city for the 4.30 a.m. (pre)dawn service, memorials, marches, speeches and whatnot.

Instead, I had a jolly good sleep in and went to see the Kransky Sisters in the evening. It felt slightly blasphemous, but hey, the Kransky Sisters were scheduled at a far more civilized hour of the day, at a time when consumption of gin and tonic is socially acceptable.

Not really much of a contest - anything that doesn't require me to get out of bed at 3am for a 4.30am start is going to get my vote.

Besides, I contributed to the war widows fund, bought badges and pens and whatnot, and had to endure walking past practically every pub in town, all of which seemed to be playing I was only 19 on endless repeat (even though it was released in the 1980s, clearly a lot of people have still not twigged that it's a protest song, and one which seriously upset the Returned Serviceman's League at the time for its anti-war sentiment).

So I think I earned my gin and tonic.

(Woohoo! Making headway with blips, both mine and yours- if I haven't been to your journal yet, I'm a-coming!)