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People have been asking me if I've had a good holiday. I'm not sure I can describe it as that. I certainly didn't sit on the beach with a bucket and spade! Neither was it all plain sailing. It was hard to turn up at someone's funeral when your friend has just jumped off the twelfth floor that morning. It was hard making sense of all the things that happened and the things people said. But it was worthwhile.
Many thanks to everyone who put me up for the night, fed me, hugged me and mended my trousers. I'll get round to thanking you individually eventually. Thanks to Eng Guan and Priscilla for the night and the day I spent in Singapore - we've been playing a vastly simplified version of Mah Jongg (I'll introduce the rest of the rules in stages, once I've deciphered the instructions) and we're enjoying the biscuits and pineapple tarts.
I made it home in one piece, but was pretty shattered. I managed to work at home on Tuesday, and went into the office on Wednesday, but I went home early, and had Thursday off. The doctor couldn't pin it down to anything apart from a possible allergic reaction and lack of sleep. I managed to get some work done on Friday. This week my nose is on strike, but at least my head is clear.
Rachael's sleepover went smoothly, although the lounge needs a shovel and a large rubbish sack. Bronwyn organised a treasure hunt in the dark, slightly hampered by a significant downpour that afternoon. At least the girls appeared to appreciate it. Sarah spent the night with Nanna, and got some sleep at least.
It was Sarah's last day at Kindy today, so Bronwyn made a cake, and bought a box of Marlborough sauvignon that was on special. It's been the end of an era - Rachael used to go there for a couple of years before Rachael. Sarah starts school on Thursday. She's just beginning to learn to read, so hopefully she'll be OK.
It's wet. Very wet. Bronwyn's a bit concerned about one particular sheep that's got arthritis (we named him Arthur) and has hardly moved for a few days. She's going to try moving him tomorrow, with Dad's help.
Bronwyn's foot is a lot better, but still a long way to go. The nerves aren't all wired up right, and her toes don't move properly, so she's been given a lot of exercises to do to teach them how to move again. But she's out of crutches (mostly) and more or less ready to do some part time work. She's coped really well considering all that's happened, and has become quite independent while I've been away. She uses a hostess trolley to carry firewood from the back door to the fire, as well as everything else, including dinner.
We've now got a new bed (Bronwyn ditched the old one) and I carried home an old brass coal box which my parents bought when I was very small. We're using it for the paper and kindling by the fire. Took us ages to polish off all the dirt from the previous fireplace!
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