Love at the Tower

Heavens. After the dullest election campaign ever, the result turned out to be quite the opposite. There may or may not be a change of government. We don't know, and we won't know until at least tomorrow, maybe longer. So that's a bit of fun. It's an interesting change, with a swing to the left in the House, a swing to the feral in the Senate and the beginnings of the two-party system breaking down. Cue the outraged bleatings of the Murdoch commentariat.

I have thoughts about our embattled Prime Minister, Malcolm Bligh Turnbull. Born to be President, but, sadly, also born in a constitutional monarchy. He'd have been a good President, I think. Less successful as a party politician, and I think part of his problem is that he isn't the man we all thought he could be. But we should have known how it would turn out. Look at his middle name. He's named — seriously — after William "Mutiny on the Bounty" Bligh. Doomed by nominative determinism.

I forgot to take my weekly knitting photo yesterday, so here it is from this morning:
( in weirdly saturated colour )

I saw the end of Masterchef tonight and it apparently involved a meat lamington? I may have misheard that.