One, two, three, four, five, (blow).... One, two, three, four, five, (blow)...
Ah, there you are. You just caught me trying to resuscitate this blog. Seems to have got washed out to sea for a fortnight after only regaining consciousness briefly, and the prospects are grim. Never say die, though, eh. How about an adrenaline shot... now what can I think of...
Last night we had a freak incident when a gang of possums chewed through the window netting, got into the house at night and trashed the kitchen. The fire-brigade was out here at 3 a.m. and we ended up on the third page of the local newspaper.
Nah, just kidding. Artistic license. Slept like logs after falling comatose at 9:30 (probably earlier in my case but that's when I glanced at the clock).
In the run-up to Christmas, our days are more routine than ever. Monday – Ruby and Indiah came to play (that's yesterday and two weeks ago – last week I had an end-of-term chat with Mr Harris so we had a quiet day). T
Tuesdays – Non's swimming lesson. She's been loving it but just last Saturday she decided to do her 'I'm going to totally not try and do anything you suggest, in fact I'm going to do the opposite as possible and love it as I watch your face silently going puce with irritation over the next half hour as you freeze your arse off in the pool” so who knows where it'll go. Eventually, surely, she must come to her senses – all the kids are so gung-ho about it and swim so well peer pressure's got to settle in. I'm hoping.
Wednesdays. Ah, the quiet day. Ooh, the kinder-hell days have finished, they are no more! We don't have to go in for reading groups any more. In fact, I don't think the kids are learning anything for these last two weeks, they just seem to be sitting there gently colouring in, watching videos and making up dance routines for 'Elf Yourself' – don't ask me 'cause I don't know.
Thursdays – Lillian comes to play after school. I'm trying to break the habit they have to 'making houses' in the sitting room which consists of them dragging down everything from Lara's room, dumping it in two piles all over the sitting room and leaving it there after rolling on it. They definitely need so help with their construction, looks like the Big Bad Wolf got there and blew it down before they ever started. You can imagine how attractive it is for me to clear that lot up once they've finished and I've cooked two separate dinners, one for the Non and one for us. Still, they have a good time.
Fridays – gym. Ah, Lara loves this. Finally now she can more or less do a forward roll without endangering her spinal cord too much. Great stuff. It's also always marvellous to see her collapsed on the floor while waiting for dinner to cook in the evening, watching telly like a zombie and groaning 'I'm so so tired....' Ah, bliss.
Saturdays. There's almost always a house or so to see. We were wondering what the 'best' one we've seen so far is, in realistic terms that is, and we decided it's been the 3-bed un-reclaimed granny-house on Bershire that went at auction for 499. Quiet location, cheap enough to be able to do serious renovation, no stupid stuff done to it already, and nicely-done swish stuff just puts it up out of our price range. Talking of which the UK lawyers sent through a paper for us to sign this morning to give them power to sign on our behalf – really looks as if the sale might go through before Christmas. Who knows though, I'm not holding my breath. … Er, where was I on the Saturday. Ah yes, then I take the Non to the pool for free swim. That is, just swimming practice without the lesson. She's been enjoying it hugely up till last time – once we did almost exclusive diving practice with a lot of her holding onto me so she could go deep and stay underwater for longer, once she was practising jumping in, once it was breathing and blowing underwater... all with the greatest glee. As aforementioned, we'll see how it goes.
On Sundays, of course, there's Nippers. 9:30 sharp at Merewether Beach, hordes of kids, sun sand and chaos. God she loves it. Running round and round in the surf with a cordon of parents in the shallows to make sure none get washed out to sea, swimming round in the Baths and then standing on their surfboards, running paddling races (or paddling them, should one say), playing tag of various kinds in the sand, tug-o-rope, a sort of musical sticks race... we get back at nearly noon and devour lunch with more than a little gusto. In the afternoons we've been going to Blackbutt regularly, to say hello to the wombats and practice Frisbee (she's finally given up throwing it like a discus and sometimes it even reaches its target). Followed invariably by nice early dinner and speedy bed all round.
Well there you go, that's what you've been missing. Week after week.
For myself I'm not sure what's happened to the last week. All the way to the end of November I was frantically sending out pieces for competitions and the like – fourteen pieces in twelve days, I think – but it's now the 7th so I must have had a whole week and nothing much has happened since. Where does it go? The summer holidays are bearing down on us with the speed of a bullet train and of course we haven't got a thing sorted. There was the kindergarten mums (well OK parents) night out the other night, and later in the week Ian's got all sorts of dos at his place so Christmas really must be nearly here but I'm reckoning if I stick my head far down into the sand, I mean really far, it won't notice I'm there. Waddaya reckon?
Right, nearly getting up time for the Littles. Best get those sarnies going. Do you know I had spinach and tofu lasagne for breakfast the other day? Damn fine, I'd recommend it any day. Well, tally ho and tweek you later.
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