The weekend started much the same way it finished: with constant gossip about the Disneyland murder. Nothing gets the chattering classes going more than something so horrid on their (our?) own doorstep. This story will run for weeks now because these kind of things just don't happen to gweilos in this town. Sure there are plenty of domestic disputes each week and some end up in similarly tragic circumstances, but that's for the great masses, not the gweilos.

Anyway, enough of that. Friday night had dinner at home with Mrs M catching up on the myriad of events and rumours swirling around the complex. Our helper, as expected, knew more than the newspapers and radio anyway.

Saturday turned into one of those rare beasts: a (practically) kid-free day. I slept in. Well, sleeping in after a manner. Sleeping in meant having JC come and join us in bed about 6am for an hour while she watches videos, gulps down her milk disturbingly fast and plays hide and seek under the covers, inevitably letting any remanants of warm air being careless fluffed away for her entertainment. After that I admit it became a blur as I dozed and next I knew it was 9am. Still I'll take it. JC had another birthday party to attend so Mrs M took her. It being a miserable and dreary Hong Kong day I did what any sane parent would do. I asked Jackie to take PB to the playroom. Suddenly I experienced that very rarest of feelings: complete silence. I stared at Misti for a minute and she at me. Niether of us were quite sure what to do. She realised there were likely to be no food scraps on offer for a while so she promptly settled into her bed for a nap. That left me. I took my time doing not very much at all. I will not lie: I did sneak a glance at the Survivor website to see if I had made the cut, but nothing.

Saturday also saw the start of the fog. Being a little way up in altitude in Hong Kong means you spend a large amount of time mired in fog. Thick fog. This weekend's was only mild as you could see about 100 metres (look it up my non-metric friends). When it's bad you can see a metre or two. Windows become like mirrors. It's all very odd because everyone still drives like there's perfect visibility. Saturday afternoon I donned my Wallaby jersey and joined some friends at the Hong Kong Cricket Club for an afternoon of rugby. There were about 100 people in the bar of the HKCC and the only Chinese were the bar staff. The place feels like a typical English pub which the weather helped in setting the atmosphere. Only thing was the beer was cold, which helped matters immesurably. The results went the right way and I returned home to join Mrs M in a chick flick called Sweet Home Alambama. Very silly movie with poor plot and character development, but Mrs M enjoyed it and I hadn't spent more than 10 minutes with the kids all day so who was I to complain? To be honest the whole day virtually felt like I was back in bachelorhood. To be even more honest I did not enjoy it as much as I thought I would. I missed the girls and the noise and mayhem that is daily life with kids. Strange.

Sunday the weather was still dreary and wet, which in HK for families means there's not much to do. Breakfast was pancakes, prepared by JC with a little help from Mrs M. JC and PB both decided they didn't want them, leaving plenty for us to enjoy. Next we headed to the indoor swimming pool for an hour of trying not to drown the girls and then we hit the supermarket. By then it was lunchtime and schluff time, which I participated in eagerly. Doing nothing makes one very tired. JC woke first and Mrs M got her painting with new water based paints. The results were superb examples of what one day will be called her "blue mixed with every colour in the palette" period. Once PB woke we made popcorn and mooched around for a while. We were joined by some friends for an early dinner where we gave the new BBQ another whirl. An excellent festival of dead animals resulted. For some reason JC decided she wanted to eat dinner in the complete nude, in front of our guests. Why is it that kids decide to act all weird only when other adults are around. PB, whom normally giggles her way around the flat, spent most of the evening before dinner demonstrating her dark side. It turns out she was hungry, which is amazing given she had polished off a whole batch of popcorn less than an hour before. Girls in bed we enjoyed a pleasant meal and conversation. Our guests had come to take back the fish we had been minding, so suddenly the house has 3 fewer living creatures in it.

Of course the Sunday night dinner conversation again revolved around the murder, as did Saturday's conversation at the HKCC. It must be big because no-one has been talking about the Rolling Stones performances to close out the taxpayer hole known as Harbour Fest. Perhaps it is best that the whole sorry episode merely fades out, with people distracted by something else.

This week will be interesting at work. Everyone senior manager in the region is descending on HK because the ultra big boss from New York is in town for a day or two. This allows everyone to come and pay appropriate homeage and means us worker drones need to be seen to be busy at all times. So if blogging this week suddenly diverts into deep analysis of currency trends or potential interest rate movements, you've been warned.