The joy of the weather was that we weren't fighting crowds, even within the confines of the Tasmanian Museum - a blend of natural history and art museum.
It was at the museum we saw our first Tasmanian Devils. Can't understand why they are called that, as they look nothing like the Looney Tunes character; you'd think the guys that named the thing didn't bother watching cartoons before taking on the labeling task.
These devils didn't spin either; but then again they were stuffed, so who knows.
The evening was truly my idea of holiday - sitting by a warm fire reading books. I am currently working my way through a book my mom suggested, a treatise suggesting that we should be living more sacrificial lives for our G-d. Perhaps not the most conducive reading for an extravagant vacation.
My other book is less convicting - a sic-fi novel written by my niece. Of course the blend makes for awkward dreams. I'm haunted by a man who travels back in time to ask me if I really needed to eat all that chocolate.
(The answer is a resounding yes, for religious reasons. In my faith tradition, the response to "man can not live on bread alone" is "that's why chocolate was invented.")
Cath is reworking her way through the Auralia series in anticipation of her first crack at The Ale Boy's Feast. Ros (our hostess) started in on the first book of the series; I think Cath enjoyed that as much as reading herself.
Tomorrow, we venture out of Hobart.
Just my thoughts,