Midsummer

The wisteria is coming in the house again. There are a couple of long tendrils that have snaked their way inside through gaps in the sliding window, and they have sprouted leaves in the living room. Adult me should have cut it back, but child me wanted to see how big it would grow… which was a mistake. The window has cracked, badly, in one corner. I don’t know if it’s directly related to the wisteria, because there was a hairline crack for a year or more before this all started. But maybe it exacerbated the situation. I don’t want to mess around with the wisteria too much, because it’s currently housing a nest with eggs right outside the window.

The garden is alive and dead all at once. I neglected my roses this year and they are gearing up for a second bloom, but I doubt it will be much to write home about. Around the back, things are getting bigger all the time. We planted tomatoes and cucumbers late, and despite lots of promising growth in progress, we haven’t had anything to harvest yet (though a single cucumber is going to be part of dinner tonight). I am dying to make big jars of pickles to eat all year long. Nathan’s little chili empire is going amazingly well though – I counted sixteen flowers on one plant, and we have a bunch of cayennes almost ready to pick.

There haven’t been nearly enough beach days this summer. The weather has been so mild that it feels like spring most of the time.

I have been cooking up a storm and everything I make is “the best thing ever”, only to be knocked off its throne with the next dish that is even better. I got a special new chefs knife for Christmas and we also got a multicooker, and it has been a revelation to spend so much less time in the kitchen for so much greater reward. These are my favourites so far – Greek pork, Korean beef, coconut tandoori chicken (the only amendment I would add is that everything needs more garlic than written, but this is pretty much a mantra for life in general).

Nathan is back at work, so I’m back to work too, and the puppies and kittens are also hard at work at being adorable all day. Things are getting better there – I will breathe the biggest sigh of relief when we get to the point where everybody is not so excited by each other anymore, and we can all be in the same room at the same time and just relax. It’s a long road.

We were sick last week and over the weekend, which gave me a bad case of cabin fever and made me pretty grouchy. We are making up for it now though – we went to the movies last night, and tonight we’re going to the beach. I heard there is a carnival in town but can’t find any details about it online… we might just have to take a drive down the coast and try out luck. It’s going to be hot all week, so any night would be ideal.

Aside from all of that, these long days really are the best days. There is so much energy and possibility in a day when the sun doesn’t go down until nine o’clock. Now, if we could just get some long hot days happening, then it would really feel like summer.

Kittens, An Update

No photos, unfortunately – it’s so hard to take nice photos of them in the bathroom, and everything I have on my camera roll turned out blurry. But they are so much bigger now!

Things were a bit doom and gloom last time I talked about the kittens – it was a rough time. I was in tears almost every day, constantly fretting that we had made a terrible mistake. The simple tasks of looking after them seemed like huge burdens, and I was miserable almost every minute of the day. But…

It got better.

It’s still not back to normal, but that was always going to be impossible because normal has changed. The kittens are still living in the bathroom for now, but we are slowly letting them explore other parts of the house. We’ve had some interactions between the dogs and cats that have been short but positive, and we’ll be stepping them up over the coming weeks while Nathan is home from work. I am not filled with misery every time they spill food or litter on the floor, or every time they shred a toilet paper roll and throw it all over the bathroom. We’re getting used to each other, slowly and little by little.

My uncle said something to me about kittens being little bastards, but once they emerge from all the chaos and destruction, it doesn’t matter about how you feel about the cats, they are in charge of the relationship and they will choose their human – you have no choice in this matter. I can see already that Plato vastly prefers Nathan and Clover seems to like me more. Who knows if this will flip in the future or if they’ll both claim Nathan or me as their human, but that is the way we are heading right now. I don’t want to play favourites but Clover is so much easier to love – she is so affectionate and sweet, and always seems delighted whenever I come to see her, as opposed to Plato who likes to spear me with one of his claws and drag down my leg until it bleeds (he’s a charmer). Clover is more sedate and likes lounging and regarding action around her, whereas Plato is into everything, chewing on cords, scratching up the furniture and prowling around like a little shadow demon. I sometimes think it would have been easier to just have Clover, but then I wouldn’t have felt as comfortable leaving them alone for such a long time on Christmas and Boxing Day – they snuggle together and keep each other company, which is sweet to see.

I wrote a paragraph about how the dogs were handling things a few days ago, but things have completely flipped and now everything is the opposite. Posie is struggling. Whenever they run around, she barks. Whenever they look at her, she barks. Whenever they breathe, she barks. And barks and barks. Rupert is going great though. He and Plato are obsessed with each other. Plato will slink up against him and follow him everywhere, nuzzle him and groom him. The two of them are having a full on romance under the bathroom door, crying at each other when they are separated. It’s just a tiny bit cute! I hope that Posie will get with the program, but like I said to my sister, she’s still waiting for Rupert to go home, so this playdate with the kittens has gone on long enough for her.

So, there is still a long way to go. Our next hurdles are: installing netting between the side of the house and the fence so that they can go outside once they’ve had all their shots; figuring out a solution for Plato to stop scratching the furniture and trying to chew cords; cleaning out the spare room (read: junk room) so that we can keep them in there when we can’t directly supervise. Lots to do, and adjustments are ongoing, but it does get better, and it will get better.

What Was and What Will Be

Every year I make grand resolutions and they rarely stick, so this year I did something different. If you haven’t heard of YearCompass, you have now – do it. It’s such a cathartic exercise to celebrate what was good, let go of what was bad, and have a clear view of how you would like to approach the year ahead. Here are some excerpts from what I wrote in my booklet:

2018

This year, I…
Visited Grandma in hospital for her birthday and took her roses from my garden
Went to So Frenchy So Chic in the Park with Nathan
Rupert got pneumonia and had to stay overnight in hospital
Got a paddle pool for the backyard that was heavenly
Went to Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time with Mum
Fell through the floor of the shower and horrifically injured my leg, went to hospital a bunch of times and spent the best part of five months on the couch and going to constant physio appointments
Saw Roger Waters with Nathan’s family
Did nothing for Valentine’s Day
Celebrated Chinese New Year – Year of the Dog – with my family
Went to my first ever embroidery class
Attended Aunty Marie’s Easter curry buffet and wine making
Grandma died and it was horrible
Saw Tosca with Nathan, Mum and Dad
Saw Belle and Sebastian, my all time favourite band, with Nathan
Had Posie and Rupert be models for the rescue dogs book
Went to look at a display house that might end up being a model for our future home
Signed up for Fiona McIntosh’s masterclass next year
Went to Nobu for lunch with Nathan
Went to see Julius Caesar
Caitlin and Jennifer were in the Lombok earthquake
Went to Sydney to the RWA Conference
Celebrated 1 year of marriage, had dinner at Bistrot Plume
Went to Werribee Zoo with Nathan for our birthday and did the serval cat encounter which was amazing
Had the worst TN attack of my life and spent months either brain dead or in horrific pain
Got my first fabric mermaid tails
Dyed my hair red
Went to a wedding
Refused to give another damn ever again about people who could not give a single damn about me during the worst year of my life
Saw the neurologist and finally got some answers, but more questions to be answered in February
Went on a great trip to Bali and had a magical weekend there with Nathan
We tried to buy a block of land but missed out, but have a clearer idea of our future moves
The shower finally got repaired by Dad
Rupert had pneumonia again
Had a minor but gross surgery on my toenail
Saw La Bohème with Dad
Found out I have to go back to the eye surgeon next year
Adopted two kittens
Started work on my first novel

It’s a lot. There were exciting and wonderful things here and there, but the grand sum of my year is that I didn’t have a very good time. And by extension, neither did Nathan. It was rough and hard and mean and sad and grey most of the time, and I’m so glad to be done with it all. This year was a trial, and I’m ultimately glad that I had the strength to bear it, but it was wearing nonetheless. I feel so… rumpled by the whole thing, like I have less stamina for hope and optimism in the future, but all I can do is keep faith that it will come back. Summer is good like that – it has a way of reinvigorating you, right down to your bones.

2019

Next year, I would like to…
Make my house a joyful and cozy place to be (more fairy lights and plants!)
Grow to love the kittens and have a happy and harmonious household of six
Give Posie and Rupert the best lives they can have in their twilight years
Be a better wife in every way I can
Start yoga practice again because it makes me feel so much better when I do it
Find skype language partners for French and Chinese so I can be conversationally fluent again, and who knows, maybe start another language too (I’m considering Swedish because apparently it’s easy for English speakers)
Write this damn novel, just get it done so I can finally feel some satisfaction about it
Lose this damn weight and be able to actually wear my 150+ dresses
Consider the possibility of our little family doing some further multiplying
Do some fun runs and not sprain my ankle 50m from the start
Have as many beach days as possible
Hopefully buy some land for a future forever house
Finally get my drivers license so I can take myself to the beach any old time I please
Make my garden beautiful again, as well as be able to grow enough produce to make my own pickles, preserves and ferments
Go to the movies more often, because I love arthouse and foreign cinema but I rarely go
Knit, crochet, embroider, quilt, draw, paint, whatever – just be creative again
Learn how to use my new multi-cooker like a pro and be the queen of freezer meals so if I break my leg, I never have to live through months of takeout ever again
Finally get the gallery wall happening in my lounge room after years of dithering on the issue
Hopefully take Nathan to Taiwan in the second half of next year, so he can see where I’m from and understand why a part of my soul will always live there

That’s also a lot. I hope I have enough energy for all this stuff because I’m tired even just typing it. It’s hard to open myself up to the possibility that everything might not be disastrous and calamitous, because that’s how things have tended to go this year. I feel like I’m constantly bracing myself for the next bad thing, the next phone call, the next funeral, the next injury, the next TN flare. Life shouldn’t feel like that, and I’m hoping that next year is the year that proves to me – reminds me – why I should have faith in good things happening, why I should be optimistic about the future.

2019, I’m counting on you!

Merry Christmas 2018!

I meant to post this on Christmas Eve, but we ended up a bit busy. So here it is:

Merry Christmas from our little family of six (!) to yours, hope it was magical and full of fun, family and festive cheer. We had a wonderful four days, I am worn out beyond belief, but can’t wait to do it again next year.

Getting To Know You

It has been a week with the kittens, and the biggest thing I have learned is… unfortunately, I’m definitely, absolutely for sure, a hundred percent a dog person. The complicating factor is that one of the kittens in particular has grown on me, so giving them back is not an option either. But the good thing is that cats require play, care and affection, but they don’t seem to demand a reciprocal and complex emotional relationship like dogs do. The cats are still confined to the bathroom – sometimes I go in there and they are all over me, sometimes they act like I’m a big annoyance. This is okay. We coexist, I take care of them, we like each other most of the time, but mostly, we’re just getting to know each other.

We are going to move them to the spare room though. They won’t be able to get water from the shower everywhere, we’ll be able to set up a bigger cat tree for them, they will be able to look out of the window. But best of all, I’ll be able to have a shower in peace and won’t have to deal with the crunch of spilled kitty litter all over the floor all the time. The cats are threatening to escape the bathroom every time we go in, so it’ll be better for them to be in a lower traffic area of the house.

How do I feel? I don’t know. It’s just so complicated. I wish we had thought it over for 24 hours before actually saying yes to them, I wish Nathan hadn’t dumped them on me during a week when he was in Canberra. I wish that maybe we’d gotten an older cat, or fostered kittens before adopting. I wish that I could have enjoyed Christmas before taking on this little project. I wish that I could have enjoyed being unencumbered by my leg or by TN for a little while longer without something else to suck up all my energy. Do I regret the kittens? Maybe. I think I regret getting kittens at all, but I don’t regret them specifically because I’m growing to like them and would be sad to see them go after having had them. But if I could rewind to a place where we never got them and never met them, and none of us would know or remember the difference, I probably would.

I’m sure this is just teething pains. It won’t always be like this, things will eventually settle into some sort of normal. And maybe things will even be better than they were before, who knows. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for that, and trying to focus on enjoying Christmas despite this bit of chaos.

Introducing…

I’m feeling loads better after my last post. It helped so much just to write it all out and share it. Now that it’s mostly over, I can get on with the business of first time kitten-owning. Without further ado, I’d like to introduce my newest little companions…

Clover and Plato

They are twelve weeks old, brother and sister. Extremely cute and extremely little. Clover is hyper and ultra playful, but loves snuggling – we’re already up to headbutting, slow blinks and kneading, I think she loves me. Plato is more shy and reserved, I don’t know him quite as well yet. He has played a few times, but he’s definitely more skittish than his sister. The two of them are so bonded though, which makes me so happy that we could keep them together, and it makes my job so much easier because they are not clamouring for my attention all the time. I keep finding them spooning or snuggling with each other, and they love to wrestle each other, it’s so sweet.

Introducing them to the dogs hasn’t really happened yet and it’s going to be a long road. The cats are confined to the bathroom for now, and I think it will be the case for at least a few weeks or maybe even months. We placed the carrier in the lounge room for only a few seconds when we first got home, and while Posie was excited, Rupert was immediately in ‘stalking prey’ mode. So everything needs to be gentle, calm and most of all supervised… this is probably an introduction that is going to take months.

I was so panicky in the first few hours because they went on a series of rampages, and were throwing water and litter (like literally scooping their paws and throwing it in the air like confetti) all over the bathroom. I’ve already cleaned up in there five times. They are also pretty violent when playing, and I’ll walk in and find bowls overturned and their little lion scratching post laying on its side on the opposite side of the room. So many bangs and thumps from the bathroom, and it’s worrying Posie and Rupert a lot.

So far… I am stressed out. Two kittens is a lot, and although there are some really good benefits to having two (like they entertain each other and don’t feel lonely with each other), the concept of “I now own two kittens and will for the next 15-20 years” is really rattling me. There are loads of forum posts online about people who had horrible anxiety over adopting kittens, but most of them were cured just by time. The kittens have been home for less than 24 hours at this stage, and we are still very much getting to know each other. It has also been a crazy time because a dissipating cyclone has hit, we’ve had thunder and lightning, and it has been raining continuously since last night, so Posie and Rupert aren’t the happiest dogs in the world.

The whole thing so far has been 20% cute and fun, 70% freaking out and 10% regret. It’s horrible to say that I have any regret at all, and I’m sure it will eventually go away, but I’m haunted by this feeling of “what if we’ve made a terrible mistake? what if we’re not cat people? what if they just never love us? what if we chose the wrong ones? what if we should have gotten older cats instead of hyper kittens?” etc. It’s easier today though – they are just sleeping and requiring almost nothing from me, but last night they were total little horrors. They didn’t calm down until about 1:30am, but they did let me sleep a normal amount.

I know it will get better and easier in time, or I hope it will. It could be worse, they could be puppies or babies, which would be a lot harder.

Dread

This is going to be a sad one, fair warning.

We are getting kittens this week and next year we are planning on potentially adding some human mini-Johanna-and-Nathans to the family. These are both perfectly normal things for a 31 year old newlywed to be doing. These are even things that I should be very excited and happy about. But somehow, I’m a wreck over both things. When I look at my life with Nathan and the dogs as it is now, I would trade every unknown kitten or hypothetical baby to capture this little slice of my life forever. We have had the best time, we truly have. On weekend mornings when I wake up next to Nathan and those little wriggling pups clamber on top of us and frantically kiss our faces with their sleepy puppy breath because they missed us so much for those hours that we were asleep… that is heaven. I can’t imagine ever being happier than those mornings, I couldn’t even contain that much happiness, I’d just burst or die.

I’ve been terrified of Nathan dying for a while. A blogger I’ve followed for almost a decade lost her husband a couple of months ago to pancreatic cancer – he was healthy and young, then felt sick one day and was dead in a matter of weeks. Another blogger I used to follow lost her husband to melanoma a few years before, and her unimaginable grief has turned her life into a horror show ever since. And even before that, an uncle of mine was struck down by a brain aneurysm in his forties. It feels unfathomable that those little moments of heaven I just mentioned could be a mere hour away from one of these things, or any other number of countless ways a person can be snatched away before their time.

The dread of losing the dogs is more pressing though. Not because I love Nathan less, but because I know that statistically, all these terrible things that could befall him are unlikely. But with the dogs, it’s not an ‘if’ but a ‘when’. Posie is nine years old and Rupert just turned thirteen. I don’t even know how to describe what these little dogs mean to me and how fiercely I love them, but the knowledge that I only have a handful more years with them… I just can’t. I don’t know how I could survive losing them. They have both been so much more than I thought possible, I have loved them more than I ever dreamed I could love anybody or anything. They are so perfect and precious, and I wish more than anything I could just pause them and love them like this for the rest of my life.

I was so excited about these little kittens we are getting at first, but it feels like they are signalling this next phase of my life where at least two terrible losses are inevitable. I am trying so hard to look on the bright side and let myself be open to the possibility of more love, more joy… but again, I just keep coming back to my weekend mornings in bed with my three loves. Maybe the problem is the limits of my imagination. I just can’t conceive of anything better than that, and life feels like it would never be as bright or colourful ever again once these days are over. And one day will be the last day ever that we’ll have together as a Fab Four, and I won’t even know until it’s gone.

It’s just so stupid. I am looking at Posie and Rupert right now, snoozing away after a day of playing and treats on tap. They have such wonderful lives, and when they die, the grand sum of their existence was that they were happy, safe and loved infinitely. I read something online that makes me feel a little better – a little braver or nobler, I guess – in the midst of all this dread:

I think about it this way– it makes me much much sadder to think about myself dying before my dog (for altruistic reasons, not for “I don’t wanna die” reasons)…
I have the faculties to process the concept of death, at least more than my dog does. I know she will die, and that I will die, so we’ll someday be parted. If she were to get terminally ill, I would be able to prepare for that. To her, though… I would just be not there one day.
So I think of it as something I’m willing to do for my dog, and probably the dog after her and probably after that: I’m willing to live their respective lives — their entire lives — with them, and try to make them as happy as I can for as long as I can. After she’s gone, I’m willing to bear the burden of being sad so that she doesn’t have to. And life goes on and soon all I’ll be able to remember are the happy times. I don’t know that a dog is capable of getting over something like that, so I’m glad that it happens this way.

It’s a nice thought, to know that even if my heart breaks, at least it will be mine and not theirs.

So, about these kittens. I was excited to get them until they became a symbol of all my existential dread. It makes sense to get them. We are hoping they will be enriching for the dogs, friends for Posie when Rupert goes, and then they will be a comfort to us when we have no dogs. The cats will be lower maintenance and require less attention when we are in our busiest parenting years. They will be easier to make arrangements for when we travel. There are a lot of good reasons for bringing them into our family, but it just hurts to be kicking off this kind of succession planning, because it forces me to acknowledge what is coming next.

I’m trying to look on the bright side, I really am. I am trying to be like Posie and Rupert, and live wholeheartedly in the moment. But the dread remains, tainting all this love and joy with the possibility that it could be taken away at any moment. I’m reading the Rainbow Bridge poem over and over, trying to console myself that if there is a heaven, we’ll all be reunited and it will be those weekend mornings forever and ever. I’m thinking of Titanic where Rose ‘goes on and on’ and lives an amazing happy life, knowing that even eighty years is a relatively short time until she’ll be reunited with Jack in eternity. I’m really trying, and in the meantime, I feel like I’m so full of grief for the living that I won’t be able to enjoy the time that we do have together, or let myself love the kittens like they deserve.

Anybody out there have any tips, besides “try not to think about it”? If we have years left together as a pawsome foursome, or only a few weeks or months, I don’t want it to be poisoned by my sadness, because when I’m sad, Posie and Rupert are sad too. How can I just pull myself together for their sake?

I’m going to try harder tomorrow. I will take them for a walk. I will give them snacks and cuddles and rub their little bellies and tell them how precious and clever they are. I will take photos and videos of them so I can show my future children how lovely they were. I will read in bed after I wake up and before I go to sleep so that they can snooze curled up against me for a little longer. The time is short for me, but it’s everything for them, and I want it to be nothing but wonderful for them.

A Nice Break

A change is as good as a holiday, but a change and a holiday is a whole new me. Let’s talk about this in two parts:

Bali

Nathan came with me to Bali for a long weekend (and is an absolute hero for doing so – his work schedule was hectic but he still carved out some time for us). It was so… needed. After all the everything of this year, it was our first time to actually just enjoy each other’s company. Nathan used some points to get us a little chalet at our resort away from the hustle and bustle of the main area, and it was blissful.

And we’ve had many conversations about whether we need a twelve foot bed in our house and a pool in our backyard (answer is yes, duh).

After Nathan had to go home, I went to Ubud to stay in my favourite little bed and breakfast style hotel. The plan was that I would just write and write and write – this didn’t happen to the extent that I hoped for. First reason was that fluctuating power in Ubud meant that my laptop electrocuted me while charging, twice. Second reason – the medication I’m (still) on for trigeminal neuralgia has had two nefarious effects. It has given me a rash all over my body that has been driving me mad. The second part is that the medication is well known for turning people into bumbling zombies. We’re talking major cognitive deficits. I have struggled with things like paying for my prescriptions with a credit card or ordering from a menu, so as you can imagine, writing has been an insurmountable task*. So I didn’t get much done. But reading has been fine, swimming for about 4 hours a day (I have a tan!) and eating – I found a warung near my hotel that made the most amazing tuna curry (I know – tuna in curry? I was shocked too, but it’s really good) that was so delicious that I went back for it three times.

Here’s a story though: one night, I went out for dinner and made my first fatal mistake – I ordered beef carpaccio. In low season, in a regional area. It came out from the kitchen and I could immediately smell it. Like a toilet. I froze up, knowing that I was the only person in the restaurant, they would see if I flung it into the bushes, and I would die of shame to send something back or refuse to eat it. So I ate it. Tasted like a toilet too (I imagine). I struggled on through, diplomatically eating about two thirds of the plate before fussing with the remaining slices to make them look smaller and hiding them underneath some rocket. It was so bad, and yes, I paid for it later. Only for about thirty six hours, but still – I am so ridiculous that I will risk getting typhoid or whatever rather than hurt a stranger’s feelings.

Aside from that, my trip was calm, peaceful and uneventful. I skipped a lot of things that I usually do – no massages, no classes, no sightseeing, not a lot of shopping. Just a lot of restorative time by myself to recover from the year that was.

Home

When I got home, Dad had put in a mammoth effort and put a shower in our bathroom for us, after nine months of having to go to Mum’s every day. It took him three weekends, but I can’t even describe how much this has changed my life. Yes, seriously. The day after I got home, I just woke up, had a shower in my own house at my leisure, put on clean clothes, and it was such a revelation. There is so much self-esteem and positivity in being able to do these small rituals of self-care.

Conclusion

Both of these things together have signaled such a fresh start for me, it’s unbelievable. I came home full of hope and optimism, like I’d shrugged it all off and the year’s worth of bad things was all behind me. It was such a relief, and now I finally feel like I can get on with things. Aside from the novel, I have a bunch of upcoming projects and instead of approaching them with dread, I’m so excited. Instead of feeling tired before we’ve even begun, I can’t wait for what the future holds.

* This is slowly getting better. I am weaning off the medication because the flare seems to be over, so we’ll see how this goes. It’s really hard to be a writer who isn’t writing, and it’s especially hard when everybody is crowing about their NaNoWriMo triumphs and you are averaging 300 words a day. But it’s coming back. Maybe January will be my novel writing month.

I Write This From the Pool

Seriously.

I’m in Bali. Nathan was here for the first weekend, now I’m on my own. I’ll write more when I get home, but it’s all about sleeping*, eating**, swimming***, writing**** and reading***** right now.

* Luxuriously for as long as I want.

** Lobster rolls and dragonfruit and mahi curry.

*** Every single day, sometimes twice (part mermaid, after all).

**** Trying, mostly.

***** Medium Raw by Anthony Bourdain and Practical Magic by Alice Hoffman at the moment.

Little Bits – October Edition

Countdown is on for Bali, we’re almost single digits. I’m so ready for this. I never feel so powerful and in control of my own life as when I’m overseas. But aside from that, I’ve been listening to the song “Fascinating Rhythm” and thinking about the line – ‘Oh how I long to be the girl I used to be’. I was in Bali just over a year ago for our honeymoon, and that girl is worlds away from how I am now. This year has done a number on me, as I’ve talked about over and over. It would be so nice to be spontaneous and fun and optimistic again, maybe this is the ticket.

I love October. This morning alone has been thundery, stormy, dark and now bright and sunny. It’s kind of humid too, which I am loving. I also love how green and fresh everything is in October, how the weather is up and down, but summer beckons. It’s also a little respite from having to be places and see people every weekend, which is very welcome after the eight birthdays/anniversaries/Father’s Days that we have to get through in September.

I just realized that I haven’t posted about our birthday yet – I will get onto that very soon! This week or next. I promise it was exciting.

Also exciting is this: we have a solution to the shower issue. All year (since I fell through the floor) we’ve been going to Mum’s every day for showers. Not ideal and a huge chunk out of our days. For a bunch of reasons, including potentially knocking the house down next year and wanting just a shower rather than a whole bathroom, my dad is putting in an ugly but functional, practical but safe solution. I can’t wait to just, without thought or planning, get up in the morning and have a shower and get dressed. I can’t wait to be able to exercise and have a shower afterwards, instead of waiting around until I get to go to Mum’s. I can’t wait to be able do things like gardening or deep cleaning without having to sit around all sweaty and dirty afterwards. It’s going to be glorious. I’ll have ten showers in a row, just because I can.

So we went to a wedding last week, and I would have had full length photos but we were in such a screaming rush to get there, it just didn’t end up happening. And possibly for good reason. Not to rat anybody out, but somebody wasn’t listening when I said that I (a regular girl, not high maintenance at all) would need extra time to do my hair and makeup. Somebody didn’t listen to my constant comments that “we need to go now” and “we don’t have enough time for that, let’s go”. As a result, another somebody ended up with a total of 30 minutes total to have a shower, shave my legs, get dressed and do hair and makeup. As a further result, I ended up with scruffy hair that was still wet when we got in the car and the quickest makeup job of all time. I looked like this:

Yep. It was bad.