Children difficult (or is it me?)… house unfinished… father staying to paint and comment on my life… school holidays looming… crisis of parenting confidence… surprise party in Sydney to prepare for that is no longer a surprise… a gazillion photographs to scan and turn into Powerpoint presentation for aforementioned party… arranging for builder to come back… trying to get house removers to respond to emails and phone calls... tired… grumpy… cynical… 15 minutes of writing over two days…
Weather delightful… house at least getting painted… friend reading the post about Batavia and bringing a pile of Dutch East Indies literature for me (who’d have thought that I’d be reading Dutch colonial fiction?)… my father coming 800 kilometres to help me paint… a neighbour realising that I didn’t sound cheerful… a few new readers… children… well let’s not go there.
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2 comments:
Hey Ms. Blithe:
As my pappy used to say as he drove me to a hated job working second shift at a foundry: 'Buck up, buckaroo'.
No, it didn't really help me, either.
Thanks Ms Absurdbeats (or should that be Ms Beats?).
I am feeling a little less low, but slightly more panicky (see today's post). I love the way parents feel that you just need a bit of "bucking up" as if you can just shake yourself mentally and get on with things. Sometimes you can and sometimes you can't. I usually just need a little time and some quietness both of which are often in short supply here.
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