Dad called up last night asking for money.
'What for?' I asked.
'I've got a family to feed. You've got money haven't you?'
I said I didn't, which was not quite true - I got paid last night - but I kind of owe Scott $130 from the start of the year when Centrelink cut my allowence because Dad wouldn't pay his tax. Also, I have to buy a concession card so that I don't have to pay the full fare on the bus. And I have to buy some shoes and some warm clothes because it's getting cold and wet now. I definitely need some shoes before it starts snowing.
Then he said that another family member had broken a leg, this time Uncle David. He's the father of Alex, my cousin whose wedding I'm not allowed to go to because I'm not a Mormon and thus don't know the Secret Handshake. Uncle David was apparently playing table tennis (he's in the same team as my dad) and dove for the ball. He managed to reach it but also managed to break his leg, so they had to get an ambulance and send him to Box Hill Hospital.
Also, my dad now has nine pigeons in the backyard. He found them at a factory in North Melbourne where he had to do a job*, and their wings were all covered in tallow**, so they couldn't fly and they were really underweight. He took them home and has been looking after them. Now they can fly again, but they're still hanging around my parents' house.

*He's a quarantine inspector, looks at stuff that's being imported and exported to check there's no diseases or pests being carried.
**Animal fat.