I'm aware that I haven't posted much on here in the last few days. I've been rushing around like the proverbial fly for the last week. At last today I've had a little more time to reflect and catch up on stuff and I'm trying to use that productively too. As I'm...read more
We went to Footscray Meadow today and I tried taking some action shorts.read more
There’s something not quite right about these glasses.read more
Are you more Raffles or more Lola?read more
I was at the Downing Street #MuslimBanProtest in London last night.read more
In which love can build a bridgeread more
Not just a dog.read more
Catching up our weekread more
Found this quote. Liked it.read more
Every Time We Say Goodbye
This afternoon my lovely Boywonder flies back to Montreal for his new university semester and, because he is required to take extra elective subjects, he won't be back until June. It's the longest he's been away from home and I shall miss him hugely. I've been trying to put this to the back of my mind all through his 18 days with us and I'm not taking him to the airport but I am finding it almost impossible to cope with at the moment.
When I was the Boywonder's age - he'll celebrate his 21st birthday in Canada in a few weeks' time - I was never homesick. To my subsequent shame, I didn't ever look back, and when I was at home, I longed to be away but he is much more of a homebody and I think he's finding it hard too. I'm wondering whether my parents missed me this much when I went away.
My friend Ann, who sits next to me in choir, reminds me that this feeling never goes away. One of her grown-up sons lives with his family in Australia. He came back for a family reunion this Christmas and she hadn't seen him for 2 years. Even before he arrived, poor Ann was fretting and upset about parting from him again and I understood perfectly well what she meant. I suppose we all move on, we have to, but the feelings remain the same.
Colds are miserable
A picture of grief
When I’m out with the boys, they often run to this lady to beg her for treats. She and her elderly German Shepherd bitch sit and enjoy the sunshine, dispensing biscuits to friendly local dogs. They are well-suited, the 14 year old rescue dog and her owner. They’ve both seen a lot of life, and they’re devoted to each other.
Oscar and I were waiting for wandering Raffles on Crab Hill Field this morning at the end of our walk and spied the lady trundling towards us, slowly, slowly leaning heavily on her sticks. No dog. The dog died on Monday.
“I’m so sorry. You must be devastated.”
“I am. It’s like losing a child. I feel lost.”