Another one nearly over. Just the fireworks hooley at the harbour to go before we usher in 2016. I cannot in honesty say that 2015 was a great year, what with all the mayhem and misery emanating from the Middle East Muslims - religious zealots we can well do without - and exported to all corners of our spherical home. The Anglosphere seems to be a prime target.
But again being honest, it has been a year of continued prosperity for many and a lifting out of poverty for many more. So, not all bad. And the Tavern has shifted a record amount of the good stuff.
Oz has done its bit for global whatevers, despite the gloom that the Global Warming Religious zealots say. We can do without them too. Australia, far from adding to the CO2 production in fact sequestered at a rate of three to one. Something Al Gore won't tell you. Oz has 30 hectares of forest and 74 hectares of grassland for every Ozman woman and child. On their behalf our entire Industry produced 20 tonnes per capita. And each hectare on average sequesters one tonne of CO2. That is far more than the amount of the life-giving gas than we emit. The world should be paying us a bonus.
A bonus is something I awarded m'self today. After my almost daily chat with the Southern Gal, I went to the beach.
It was crowded in Tasmanian terms. There must have been 250 people there, if you count the dogs.
I have never seen a really crowded beach in Tasmania. Odd spots, like the river mouth at Kingston just might attract 15 people a hectare (if you count in the dogs)
Even the dogs prefer plenty of space to cavort.
Me? I am a very old and Knackered Knight. A stroll along the sands; a toe or ten dipped in the surf; and a table outside the cafe, in the shade, with a nice bonus-topper.
One more day to go in Paradise before the New Year.
It's tough being a King, but someone has to do it.