Got rapped on the knuckles by quite a few folk for being so depressing in Morning Mirror last week.

Even He Who Must Be Obeyed was non plussed by his normally exuberant wife's depression....We were standing at the car saying goodbye in the morning and just as I was about to defend myself and my depression, I looked up and saw four giant purple florets grinning at me from the nearest jacaranda tree !!

Now that was spooky, normally that particular jacaranda tree does now flower early, I always keep my eye on that early flowering one on the corner of seventh street and Clark Road, but there it was purple and proud and defying me to be depressed.

So back to one's old self again and now to let you into the real secrets of life in suburbia.

It all started when He Who Must Be Obeyed bought one of those dual view decoders, you know those very family oriented decoders where you sit in one room watching one programme, and he sits in another room watching...yes...you guessed it....sport. !!

Now as far as I was concerned this was the end. This qualified as total destruction of family togetherness, and despite the fact that I absolutely forbade the importation of this evil machine into our lives, it arrived under George's (alias Mr Satellite himself) arm one sunny morning.

And so the rot began, he sits in the lounge watching cricket and I sit (sulking) in the bedroom watching tennis. He sits in the lounge watching Grand Prix on Sunday afternoon and I sit in the bedroom watching Idols.

HEY...SUDDENLY THIS ISN'T ALL THAT BAD !!

Telly watching suddenly takes on a whole new hue, all these wonderful mysteries of the little black box are unfolding before me, programmes that I have never been allowed to watch before.....the cooking channel, National geographic, that dreadful lady who runs the quiz show whose name escapes me......and more.....

Luckily it was actually not the end of all conversation in the family, because we both have cell phones so he does sometimes does call me during the commercial breaks, and when the Boks are not winning (which is fairly often these days) he even phones me and asks for a cup of tea sometimes, so all is NOT lost after all !!

But it was then that Charles of the Ritz, Maitre d'hotel, Jeeves the Butler of Pauling Road, faithful retainer Par Excellence, mastermind of the magnificent macaroni cheeses, superlative chocolate cake baker, the most important man in my life, got in on the action.

Charlie, whose every whim is my command because I could not possibly live without him, decided that his life too should be so endowed with something other than ZBC and he asked for a satellite link too !! Absolutely nothing is too much for Charlie and so in came George again with coils of wire and proceeded to introduce Charlie and his family of four girls, to the wonderful world of satellite TV.

And because rank has its privileges, it was my part of the dual decoder that went shooting through to Charlie's Telly....and that was when the crunch came. Household chores done, shopping trip successfully undertaken, various paltry wifely duties adequately accomplished and I furtively, guiltily head for the bedroom where on the telly, is the promise of my favourite tennis player Andy Roddick playing in the US Open.

BUT HOLD ON>>>WHAT IS THIS? My telly, my very own telly is showing cartoons !! Oh yes, and when it is not showing cartoons for Charlie's daughter Girlie (aged four) it is showing music on Channel O for Charlie's daughter Pretty (aged fifteen) or possibly it is showing Angela Anaconda for Charlie's daughter (aged 11) .....

Back to the drawing board, I think I shall phone George and ask him if he has a three way satellite decoder......