A wild Friday night (and Christmas decoration photos)

We don't have wild Friday nights. We never have, even in our younger years before we met each other. I think there was a six month  period when I was aged 15 - 16 when I went to parties that had a tiny flavour of 'wild' (i.e., there were boys and girls and alcohol), but that was about it.

These days we are an old married couple in every sense of the word, even if we have only been married 3.5 months and are not so very old really. I love it, truth be told. Our Friday night routine includes going home from work together, the one day of the week when that is possible, and I may then do some cleaning (I know! the thrill!) while Mr Bite makes dinner (that is a thrill) and we then eat in front of the TV and watch a movie.

I'm sure you're overwhelmed with excitement for us.


Our house is not suited to large-scale Christmas decorations, so we have a bite-sized tree. Please don't laugh.

Two Friday's ago, we watched Tomorrow When the War Began, adapted from John Marsden's book of the same name. Those of you who grew up in Australia in the 1990s will likely remember the series that followed from that first book. They were always out of my high school library and I devoured them with great enthusiasm, as did most people my age.

The movie is no where near as good as the book (of course), and had a certain teenager vibe to it. Still, it was worth watching. It was also mildly suspenseful and I think that led to Mr Bite making knocking sounds on the inside of our front door when the movie was over. He does this sometimes, playing on my anxious, easily startled nature. I wasn't taken in though, not for a second.

Except, an hour and a half later, there really was a knock on the door. At 11pm. And Mr Bite was upstairs, so I knew it wasn't him.

Our wreathed front door.

I frantically called out "don't answer the door!" as Mr Bite trotted downstairs to do so.

"It's okay", he said, "there's a police car out the front".

For the record, that isn't a statement that tends to make me think that things are okay.

From bed, I eavesdropped on the conversation that resulted when Mr Bite did open the door.

(Very young) policeman: "Good evening mate, we're just following up on a complaint about loud music in the area. It sounded like it was coming from your place, but now we see it isn't."

Mr B: "No, we can hear it too but it isn't from here."

Policeman: "We actually can't find the source of the music. We drove behind your place and in front of your place, and it sounded like it was coming from within. Now we're here it sounds like it's coming from elsewhere."

Mr B: "Yes, we have that problem too! We have tried to find the source of the music in the past but haven't been able to do so."

I like to think that the tree looks bigger up close.

To give you some context, we semi-regularly hear loud-ish music coming from a house in our vicinity. When we're inside, it sounds like it's coming from just behind us. But when we go outside, it sounds like it's coming from somewhere in front of us. We once went for an evening walk to try and find the house in question, but failed.

The policeman apologised for disturbing us and left with his car-bound colleague to continue searching for the mysterious music, whilst we went to bed after being visited by police for the first time in our respective lives.



Another wreath - this one in the kitchen

And that, dear readers, is my definition of a wild Friday night: a teenage movie watched on the sofa, followed by a spark of adrenalin by a genuine front door knock at a late hour, followed by a visit from the police that wasn't really intended for us. It was perfect.

What does your Friday night look like? Any wild moments of late?

And did you enjoy the Tomorrow When the War Began books?

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