On ANZAC Day we were back in Port Lincoln. Franklin was privileged to be asked to lay a wreath at the Dawn Service, in honour of those who served in East Timor. There were several hundred present.
I was standing up the back, under a tree, and Franklin was down the front with the VIPs. As we waited for the ceremony to begin I was chatting to the woman next to me - as you do. I remarked that my husband had stood up and was maybe trying to phone me.
"He's probably checking his text messages", she said.
"That may well be so", I said. "He's lining up for an appendicectomy at 7.30" (it was then 6 am).
"He's cutting it fine!" said she. "Is he fasting??"
"Oh! No, No, No!" I said, "I didn't explain myself! He's the surgeon, not the patient!"
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