It’s spring and I’m grumpy. Why? Because it’s warm and, much as I love warmth, it’s more stifling than warm when one only has merino woollies on hand. See, all my short-sleeved tops and non-merino clothes are up in the loft.
The loft. (Theme-music from Jaws.) Enter who dares.
Well, I’m going to have to dare, because I don’t fancy spending the next six months feeling like a sauna-on-feet. I did enough of that when I was pregnant. Read More…
Twelve days on and we’re struggling to re-boot normality here in Christchurch, NZ.
It’s not that we can’t function: we can, and very well. Our infrastructures have withstood this crisis amazingly. Our civil defence emergency response teams have been excellent. Our community has come together to help each other through – I’m proud to live here. And, miraculously, no lives were lost.
But it doesn’t feel normal. The shops are open. School’s back in. People, if their job still exists, are back to work. But there’s a nervous edge to it. I avoid large shopping malls. I constantly check where my kids are. I startle at every low rumble. I quiz my son daily on what he should do in an earthquake.
We’ve had 611 quakes in twelve days. There’s nothing normal about that.
On the odd occasion – you know, like 90% of the time – when things seem as if they’re going from bad to worse, or from worse to desperate, it’s good to know I’ve got friends who’ll help get me through.
Take this week, for example. It wasn’t enough that my Beloved was working out of town. Little Miss 13-month-old (aka The Destroyer) decided this was a good week to come down with Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease.
No, our ancestry does not include any cloven-hooved beasts. (Though I do have a devilish Read More…
So off we went. Our first tropical holiday in years. Our first ever as a family of four.
We coped with the 5am start. We mostly coped with the first six hours of our seven-and-a-half hour journey, thanks to drugs (for the baby, not us), an in-flight bassinette, and individual in-flight screens which Master Six loved.
Then the baby woke.
If you’re a parent, imagine your child at their very worst. Then imagine holding them in your Read More…
We could all do with a holiday; I know that. But I needed one urgently. I started obsessing about it. If I didn’t get a holiday I’d . . . what? Throw tantrums? (already doing that) Go mad? (already there) Turn axe-murderess? (hmm, now, there’s a thought . . . )
Would it be murder or a holiday? I took the holiday option and booked flights quickly, before my partner or bank manager could disagree. Hell, I didn’t want to be responsible for any wayward axes.
Besides, I’d seen the magic words. CHEAP AIRFARES. I couldn’t resist. It sounded too good Read More…
