There are moments when I'd kill to have a camera easily to hand.

Such a moment occurred yesterday, when my mum and I were on our way back to the car, after a day spent doing touristy things around Sydney (we are united in our general disdain for modern art). We'd parked Ethel near my old house, thanks to my old parking permit, which saved us five dollars and one bus ride.

As we were walking down the street where Ethel was parked, mum - small town girl that she is - pointed out a car that had a smashed rear window. The next one down had a smashed front window. So'd the next one, and the next. Most gloveboxes were hanging open; one passenger seat had been slashed. The look on mum's face - and, I imagine, on mine - as we walked towards Ethel was priceless; this slowly burgeoning expression of horror. We could see broken glass in the gutter all the way down to the end of the street, well past where Ethel was parked.

And yet my baby is fine. Completely untouched. Clearly she is protected by supernatural powers beyond human ken. Or something.

Happy days, at any rate.

PS - On Saturday, I think I will be getting a copy of HP6 without giving money to my favourite bookstore, as a result of having given so very much money to my favourite bookstore over the last year. Whee!