Welcome back

I bought myself some clothes and accessories on line these last couple of weeks. Just some swingy-hide-the-gunt long tops, some leggings, which I fully intend to wear as pants, a pair of ankle boots and a couple of rings and necklaces. Such events are very rare indeed and these new purchases will likely go the way of old, worn steadfastly day in and day out as a uniform until desperation requires another round of purchases. I do not buy clothes or accessories “just because”, ever.

The rings were cheap and cheerful, even the delicious black resin disc from Elk. They feel heavy on my fingers, making we want to swing my hands around when I talk even more than usual. In a few short days I’ve developed a new ritual of putting them on, flicking my fingers here and there, then trying to type with them on, only to fail, removing them, then starting the process all over again. See also: not sane.

The weather has turned here with the days abruptly shorter and a biting wind. I’ve wondered why my allergies have been off the charts until it dawned on me that the scarves and jacket I’ve pulled from the cupboard are merely dust strung together with a few threads. Still, I’m typing this wearing one of my new tops, my chunky yellow ring (on and off it goes) and the most outrageously warm possum wool scarf gifted to me by M. Gas prices are set to increase by up to 25% this winter so there shall be a lot of scarf wearing and doona shawls.

We had two rounds of rugby this weekend, Grover insisted on wearing his mouthguard even though he lost his two front teeth the night before and the morning of his game. It feels like the end of early childhood here with those baby teeth gone. We’re well and truly in the subsector of society called “getting the kids through school” now. He still wants me to lie with him when he’s going to sleep and while many a night it shits me to tears I force myself to remember this time will soon be over.

Last week featured a gathering of some of us from the blogging old days. There was so much laughter but also confiding and confessions. Since we got together we’ve shared some photos from years ago which have simultaneously made us wistful and horrified at the swiftness with which time passes. Those ladies know me inside and out. Their love and concern for me through periods of hardship and heartache has meant so so much to me and our stupidly infrequent get togethers fuels my soul.

Last night I admitted defeat and made dinner using a store-bought jar of a curry sauce. Every single child ate it. All of them. Ate all parts of it. The cursor is blinking at me as I try to find something to say about that.

 

Onward.

 

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  • trash

    Kids are bastards. *sigh*

    • They truly are! A friend of mine has a great story about how one time, when she was away, she rang home and the kids excitedly exclaimed dad had made them a dinner of rice and bacon. As she got off the phone she said, “I think I’m doing this wrong”. Bacon. And rice.

      • Linda

        The legendary Dad Dinner in our house is a fry up of bacon, eggs, sausages, baked beans and (gag) creamed corn. Kids are bastards.

  • Paola

    Makes you question: WHY?

    And I mean: why in the world have I wasted so many years trying to cook proper food, hours adn hours bent in the kitchen, preparing, cooking, washing all the piles of pots and pans when a single bloody can could solve all my problems in 5 minutes?

    I am also sure you’ll go back to that crazy cooking right away, aren’t you.

    • I know, it’s madness. I did cook from scratch tonight and Jasper, the air eater, flatly refused it. Until he was hungry and there was literally nothing else for him to eat. Guess who I found scraping the bowl?

  • Lea, rhymes with h&b

    I just wanna know who you hung with? 😉

    And yes, kids are bastards :p

    • Lea – the old crew – Mary (Blue Mountains), Eleanor (from the comment box) and Duyvken. Such beautiful souls.

  • blackbird of Tuvalu

    I like this post.
    Buy fucking jarred curry sauce. See if I care.

    • I could almost hear Joke recoiling as I opened it.

  • This is a beautiful post and you are a beautiful writer. My fingers are purposely ringless right now. I quite like the emptiness of it. xx

  • LOL ” Last night I admitted defeat and made dinner using a store-bought jar of a curry sauce. Every single child ate it. ” Makes me laugh

  • Robin

    jarred sauce aside….POSSUM WOOL????

    • YES – from NZ where they’re allowed to skin the blighters. I think it’s mixed with sheeps wool. It is insanely soft and warm. Divine.

  • I love ELK. It is the one thing that people now buy me, every birthday and Christmas I get a new piece from someone. They can afford it, they know I like it. It’s nice to wear everyday, if you lose it or it breaks it does not stress anyone out. Elk is as good as a jar of curry.