You know the drill. As soon as I get a whiff of the change of season, I feel the need to report on my blog. This is compelling diarising, my friends. Sadly, I've got no seasonal decor / seasonal decor picture for you (cracking out a string of lights at Christmas time is about the extent of it), so you'll just have to imagine this morning's damp, chill moments; the rain that's misting past my window and the three rainbows I saw before 9am.
Last night was the second birthday party of our youngest nephew. Suddenly, he's a little boy. You can still see the infant chub on his arms (almost ringlet-y at the wrists), but he's solidified and no longer wobbles when turning corners. I wistfully remarked on the passage of time to his mother who looked a little relieved yet surprised that infancy was over. The days are long but the years are short, I believe.
You may recall he and his family spent some time with us last year when renovating their house. Last night's visit to their lovely home made me sigh wistfully for kitchen space and a dishwasher, for open plan living. I can wait, though. We have to wait in all honesty; the lavender loveshack cleaned us out financially last year; it'll be a while before we've sunk enough equity into it to justify spending horrendous amounts on a do-up. I spent quite a few minutes this morning hovering in my online banking account, counting pennies and considering interest rates and consigning dreams of a wobble-free loo to a hazy future.
Well yes, the wedding was just lovely. On the scale of emosh, I hit 'slight dampness around the eyes', which I think is just the right amount for happy celebrations.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Tell me your deepest secrets. Or your opinion on the Oxford comma. Or your favourite pre-dinner drink. Anything really, as long as it's not mean.