WEATHER: Six degrees at dawn Monday. Still no rain. The ground on Saturday was hard as conviction and nobody complained, which tells you something about what kind of town this is in winter.

STEVE-O MITCHELL STOPS PLAYING WITHIN HIMSELF: DISTRICT REVISES ACCORDINGLY

This newspaper reported last edition that Steve-o Mitchell was "playing within himself." We reported it with appropriate editorial caution. We were wrong, and we are delighted to be wrong, and we are treating this correction as the story it deserves to be.

Three goals against Currawong Flats. Relentless in a manner the north bank has not witnessed since before the rough patch that this paper will not relitigate. The result was decisive by nineteen points. The post-match exchange with Keith Mulroney — "that's more like it" and "yeah," witnessed by twelve people — is now considered the definitive text of the occasion. Four words. Correct amount.

By nine o'clock the formulation at the Royal was "he saved it for today," said with satisfaction. Eighty-plus in attendance, the fullest since Easter. Macca ran out of nothing. This detail is being noted approvingly by the right people.

Clarrie Burton was at the ground, which he is not always. He stood near the old scoreboard. He left without speaking to anyone. He came to see is how the pub has described this, and this newspaper considers it the highest available tribute.

THE CLIPBOARD DROPS: DEB FORSYTHE AND WHAT THE SIDELINE RECORDED

Deb Forsythe was present at the Currawong Flats fixture in her CWA committee capacity. She had a clipboard. The clipboard dropped when Steve-o kicked the first goal. "She felt that one" was circulating by Saturday evening and this newspaper sees no reason to dispute the formulation.

Bruce Patterson intercepted her at the pub door that evening. Deb Forsythe said "bring something useful, Bruce," and did not say no. Bruce Patterson is understood to be preparing something useful. This paper will be watching.

Meanwhile: Tash and her mother Carol were on the north bank together. After the third goal, Carol said something and Tash said nothing. Three people noticed the nothing. We are noting the nothing now, and leaving it exactly there.

THE SESSION ACQUIRES A DOCTOR: PRIYA SHARMA COMES IN FOR A GLASS

The second fortnightly planning session ran Tuesday at the Royal — soup, ninety minutes, same format as established. Dr Priya Sharma arrived for the last forty minutes, having, in the widely circulated description, "come in for a glass and ended up at the table."

Nobody can quite explain why having a doctor at the table matters, but everyone is mentioning it. This newspaper has a theory — about droughts, festivals, and what a town signals to itself when a doctor stops being a visitor and becomes a participant — but will wait one more edition before printing it.

On Saturday evening, Dr Sharma was at the Royal again, near the bingo corner, in conversation with Des Hartley. Des Hartley this week mentioned he remembered Frank Dooley. "Man kept to himself, which was normal then." This has made a small circuit. The Dooley story, whatever it finally is, now has a living witness. The bingo corner is doing work this newspaper did not originally anticipate.

AROUND THE DISTRICT

— Tash Briggs's rolls debuted Thursday, cleared before eleven, repeated Friday, cleared again. "She's not stopping at bread" is the district read. Correct.

— Lorraine Apps has been notably silent on the subject of Tash's rolls. Noted.

— Ray Connelly was at the General Store at 4 p.m. Saturday — flour, a few things. He was not at the game. "Man has his own rhythm" is the current formulation, said now with more respect than reproach. Progress of a kind.

LETTERS TO THE EDITOR

From Des Hartley, via the bingo corner:
Marge, I did know Frank Dooley. Not well. Nobody did, which was the whole point. He was there and then he wasn't and people had things on. I'm not saying it was wrong. I'm saying it was normal. There's a difference. — D. Hartley

From Bruce Patterson:
Marge — I am preparing something useful. — B. Patterson

From an unsigned correspondent, believed local:
The rolls were exceptional. Two mornings is not enough mornings.

The Redgum Hollow Gazette is written, edited, typeset, and distributed by Marge Holloway. Corrections issued with full ceremony. Subscriptions by arrangement.