Not the root of all evil but the root of the root. Love finds a root then roots find love then make love, then give birth to love and eventually love to root again.
Can’t remember where I was going with this but I do love my children and I missed them a little bit but it was only a few days, so I loved the wine as well. And honestly, I wouldn’t have been able to do this
or look at this
or merely walk here
rather than running and screaming.
Just to clarify.
I won’t say it’s a rare opportunity because I’ve done it in consecutive years, and sometimes more than once in the same year, but compared to Husband fucking off everywhere for work, it is an opportunity afforded to me not very often, that I can be the one fucking off for a while by myself.
My Nanna turned 80 and Husband suggested I fuck off over there and spend time with my peeps- besides the ones I made myself – so that is what I did.
I hung out in the airport by myself and decided that if push came to shove, I could very easily take up residence in the nice new restroom in the new concourse near the 60s gates at SFO, because it’s that nice and I have standards.
I went and had lunch with my peeps at the beach and the peeps that they had made themselves. I gorged myself on the first real meal of unnecessary carbs and fats in weeks, and washed it all down with some earl grey and a glass of I’m on holidays.
Had an emotional lunch with my Nanna who is losing some of her marbles which is sad to witness, especially if you haven’t seen her for years and she was mostly fine before you packed your ass and family to move overseas. The upside was watching my other peeps and the peeps that they had made, run around like adorable cherubs and get in trouble with their parents who weren’t me. We also had some serious aussie tucker.
I saw some weekend cricket,
had some aussie bevvies,
a childhood throwback for breakfast,
finally made it to the footy club of my childhood,
kicked back under some gum trees,
caught the train over the Harbour Bridge,
thumbed my nose at the old office where I used to work with a few nice people and a few assholes as well,
went window shopping in expensive malls with breakables everywhere,
and generally waltzed through town taking in the sights until I ended up with a nice cup with scones etc at the delightful Queen Victoria Building.
The hotel was another chapter in a story of child-free adventures. Mum and I demolished a bottle of wine (and I thought we would have to take it upstairs if we didn’t finish it, who was I kidding) which was served to us in a super tall ice bucket by wait staff in suits with nary a child in sight. I introduced her to the Outlander tv show and she knows all about men in kilts because she’s read the books, and she confirmed that she does have a few books which I thought I gave her a while back which she denies, and I knew it all along.
Breakfast was a lot of things but also
Hot Cross buns.
eating the destruction of your lord and saviour in delicious cinnamon and raisin form.
Home again, home again jiggedy jog.
What a great weekend! What did I miss out on doing while I was back in oz? I can’t think of a thing! Wait until 2am and I might think of something, but I did plenty of drinking
Love this
and saw most of my peeps, ahem Nicole, got a bit of aussie sunburn (bbq chicken wings, anyone?) and saw some Kookaburras, parakeets and magpies. It was great, but also red wine and slippers are cool, too.
Usually I schedule my days from dawn til dusk, but today, on my day off (all the boys are in school today) I have nothing to do and no idea how to do it.
I should be catching up on housework, or enjoying time in the garden. I could have gone to a movie. But I did none of those things and have instead, done an errand or two, but mostly twiddled my thumbs.
I could say I’ve wasted my day, but really, having nothing to do is a nice change. No bums to wipe except my own; no arguments to quieten except the one in my head about what to do with myself. Of course, there’s always shopping, but the vintage shops are closed Mondays as are most of the antique stores.
I will have to come up with a plan for my next day off so I don’t waste the day again. Let me mull it over in this peace and quiet.
I was trying to get a photo of my big cheesy smile to show how silly I look grinning at everyone for no apparent reason (but I looked sillier – or worse – sitting in the car snapping pics of my choppers. So) Not apparent to those who don’t have young kids, that is. Even in the gym class, I was grinning like a fool with every step up and power step touch and all that. Walking out in the carpark, meandering because I could, before I found where I parked the car, no cheeky monkeys hanging off me and arguing about seat belts already. Driving up the driveway at home, I couldn’t quite figure out what I had forgotten, but I think it was merely a feeling of quiet in the car, and no drawn out discussions about whose turn it is to check the mail.
And now the house is quiet and still; I’m going to have some tea and do a spot of sewing, and perhaps spend a minute or two in the bathroom with no probability of being interrupted. If the doorbell rings I will be bloody annoyed.
4 Princes and Me 