PAIGE 35 - FOOD FOR THOUGHT

- Des was talking a fair bit about the competition today, and so I thought well I better get this referee thing figured out too I guess. And I asked him, do you have any idea what events I might be asked to adjudicate? He said well the first of March is a public holiday, but it's only the opening celebrations, so there's nothing much for you to do but enjoy the day off and have fun. Quite a few of the main events were on Saturdays, because people weren't working, so probably I should check with the organizers what things were on those days. Food for thought, he said. Before I left, I bought six different types of yoghurt. That's a lot of yoghurt, he said. Food for thought, I said.

As the unfro-yos underwent their metamorphosis into froyos (you see, I'm a scientist now), I decided to call around and have a crack at finding out more about this Triathlon business. Since Dylan was the first one who got me into it, he was the first one I called.

"Sparrow Auto," he said. "Microwave laboratory," I said. "What?" he said. "Never mind. I was wondering about me being a referee. I mean, what days and where exactly is this all at? You know I don't know anything about sports." "Oh, it's ok. Elle and I will be there with you on the days to help. Although we're partipating in a few events. But it'll be a great time to get to know Sparrow Falls, mostly Saturdays if you're free." "Ok," I said, "what does this referee business look like anyway? I'm not even sure what a referee does besides blow a whistle." "Just decide who wins. If its a race, you'll see who crosses the finish line first. If its archery, who hits the target. It's more just to stop contestants fighting." "Oh, I see. Um, are you and L coming to the opening day? Des says I have the day off." "Yep, we'll be there. Free food and everything." "Yoghurt?" "What?" "No honey, in anything, at least?" "Um, I'm not sure. The Robertsons make pretty good baklava." "Where do they get their honey from?" "Uh sorry Livi, I don't know. It's a secret recipe, so I don't think they can say."

Aha! My infallible intuition found a clue. Why were the Robertsons hiding honey? Why couldn't we know where they got their honey from? It all seemed mighty suspicious to me if I could say, and my spacetime-continuum senses were tingling. And it wasn't a bee.

"Sounds tasty. Do you know these Robertsons?" "Oh, not very well." "Kind of well?" "Somewhat well."

He was playing subterfuge. One of my only friends in the Falls was caught up in this spacetime business. His answers were vague. Did he know the other Livi?

"Olivia, are you alright? Are you still there?" "Huh? Oh yeah, I'm still here. Are you still there?" "Uh, yes." "Oh good. Well, thanks for letting me call you during business hours. I hope I'm not keeping you from other customers. Ah, well, I should go. Thanks." "Ok, thanks, see you later."

The plot thickens. Like my yoghurt.

- Livi