It would be wrong to suggest it was the end of the line but certainly one of those mornings where I was at the end of my rope (defined by some highly authoritative online source as "the limit of one's patience, when one is so frustrated or annoyed that one can no longer take it"). A weekend jam filled with the excitement of marking and a teen with a vast pile of Year 12 final assessment might be enough to do it. Throw in a husband heading off to Sri Lanka "for work" and the stakes rise. And then the deal breaker, the flat tyre on the way to the airport. Yee haa. The happy in this Happy Little Vegemite starts to be spread very, very thin. Given that all work and no play will give both Susan and Drama Teen dull brains, it was decided in the late afternoon to get out of the house and walk to Woolloongabba for a festival. Given that the festival is called The End of the Line Festival is seemed only fitting. OK, it's not exactly elephants in Colombo but it sure beats assessment in any form. Certainly it was just the fun and colour needed on a grey dull afternoon.