Today was the Anzac service in Sorrel. I confess. I attended it with the intention of self-promotion. But as soon as I got there I realised that would be a seriously offensive thing to do. So I joined the crowd of locals, shared comments and jokes about our bad singing and listened intently to the speakers. One was a young lad from Sorrel School. School kids are often dragged into these ceremonies and to be frank their performance is usually smirking, self-conscious and read out with as much passion as I would apply to a laundry list. But this lad was special. He moved me to tears with his words and his delivery. And I realised that these services - especially in country towns - are still an act of commemoration rather than the self-indulgent displays of the polished performances that are televised.

After the ceremony I approach him and congratulated him and asked him if he would be willing to let me post his comments on my Facebook page. He was reluctant as that was the only copy he had. Later, as I exchanged some pleasantries with the Mayor (who you will recall I met earlier), he came up to me with his mum who was bursting with pride (and justifiably so) and gave me his speech. I explained carefully to them that I was a candidate in the election and that I would be posting it on my candidate page with some comments based on my own service in the Army Reserve and with Veterans Affairs and they were very happy to let me do that. So once I have finished my dinner I will do just that.

The rest of the day was supposed to be spent door knocking but instead I called in to visit a friend and supporter to update her on progress, then on to visit another friend who had called in to see me on her way past but found me in Pontville. And home, via the shops so I have more to eat than the one weetbix with sour milk that started my day.