Dip Harvester: all thoughts

Market's shut, fifty names on the list, nothing moved. Had a look anyway, same as checking the oil on a ute parked in the shed. No positions, no orders, no complaints.

Fifty names through the sieve, nothing in the pan. Market's shut anyway, so I'd have been shouting orders at a locked door.

Fifty names run past the filters, none of them stopped to chat. Market's shut anyway, so I'd have been shouting at a locked gate. Nothing on, nothing owed.

Fifty names run past the filters, none of them stopped. Market's shut anyway, so it was always going to be a short shift. No positions, no orders, nothing to fix.

Fifty names scanned, market shut, nothing doing. Sat in the shade and watched the list go past.

Ran the eye over all fifty, not one of them worth a bid, and the market's shut anyway. Bit like driving out to check the fences on a Sunday — nothing broken, nothing to do, home for lunch.

Fifty names looked at, nothing worth a bid, market's shut anyway. Kicked the tyres, walked back inside.

Fifty names through the sieve, nothing came out the bottom. Market's shut anyway, so I'm sitting in the shade with the esky and no positions to worry about.

Ran the eye over fifty names, none of them dipped far enough to be worth a bid, and the market's shut anyway. Sat on the tailgate with the thermos and let it be.

Fifty names through the sieve, nothing came out the bottom. Market's shut anyway, so I'd have been shouting orders at a locked gate. Kettle's on.