Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's that time of the year when Tree catches the first cold going past and watches in amazement as it heads for her chest like a bad date and sets up residency there until evicted using sternly worded letters written on antibiotic tablets.

Reg helped me self-medicate with Guinness over the weekend, but unfortunately I couldn't drink the quantities required to help kill the bacteria. He was also kind enough not to comment on my new drag queen voice. Ghost, on the other hand, nearly went berserk with glee when I lost my voice entirely a couple of days later. His sympathy underwhelms me.

That's more information than you need and it's not what I'm here for. I've actually been inspired by the lovely Saint Mahone and Femme De La Creme. But before I move on, for the benefit of Shane and Loz:

Chook = chicken
Dunny = outdoor toilet

'May your chooks turn into emus and kick your dunny down' = old fashioned Australian curse which translates to 'may your domesticated fowl transform into oversized native flightless birds and deprive you of your primitive water closet facilities.'

I hope that helps.

Saint Mahone commented about my choice of musical accompaniment for my daily walks (which have been postponed due to astonishing quantities of mucus) and Femme followed this up by another of her insightful (some may say 'inciteful') blogs.

There is a very good reason why the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras Party Anthems CD remains close to my heart.

With more cheese than a stuffed crust pizza and a divine cover by the exquisite Pierre et Gilles, made all the more scandalous because one of the girls on the cover was reputed to be... GASP... a breeder, this particular CD represents one of the proudest moments in my life.

Cast your mind back to 1997. Your hostess is but a wee Tree-let who has just moved out of home into an apartment the size of a shoebox. My baby brother had taken to visiting regularly as an outlet to get away from mum for a bit and a chance for a chat over pizza and beer. He'd been seriously down for several years, prompting much worry.

Mum had gone away on holidays. One afternoon I got a deeply ominous phone call from my brother. "Tree, I need to come over. I need to talk to you about something."

Being the sensible, rational person I was, I went into full panic. He was on drugs, he was contemplating suicide, something TERRIBLE was about to happen. I had no idea how I was going to handle the situation and I dreaded his arrival.

When he did finally get there (and I'd stopped convincing myself he had a fatal illness), we chatted about this and that until finally he looked at me and asked me a very strange question.

He wanted to know what expectations mum and I had for him.

I was astonished. I spluttered out something along the lines of hoping for his health and his happiness but not really having any expectations other than him never becoming a cannibal or a Mormon.

And then he told me.

"I'm gay."

I felt like my strings were cut. I nearly collapsed onto the couch.

Not with horror. But with sheer relief.

My exact words to him?

"Oh, is THAT all! I thought something terrible had happened!"

This was not the response he was expecting.

The poor lad was totally bewildered. Despite mum having raised us to regard homosexuality as just another part of life, he was convinced that we would ostracise him, throw him out of the family and rain curses down on his head. Instead, I took him down to the local gaybourhood (just down the road from the shoebox apartment) and helped him pick out books, clothes and scrummy looking boys.

We spent the rest of the time together plotting how to tell mum. I wasn't expecting her to freak out or anything, but it's still big news and you want to get it right. And she was due back on Mother's Day and I just KNEW that was not the day to tell her.

He did tell her, and eventually the whole family. He's out at work and in all parts of his social life. He chose to not tell some friends because he felt that they would not accept him, and phased those people out of his life. He's not had a single negative response about his sexuality.

He is one of the luckiest people I know.

For his 21st birthday the following year, mum and I gave him two tickets to the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras. He asked his big sister to come along. And I proudly marched beside him as part of PFLAG's (Parents, Family & Friends of Lesbians & Gays) 'A Family Outing'.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is one of the proudest moments of my life.