Blogging from my iPhone… This probably won’t be my best work, OK? OK.
Life here, it’s easy to get used to.
A week was all it took. I’m no longer mourning for Macca’s, a twenty four hour service station, or even a dishwasher. In fact, I’m headed back to the city this weekend…. And, already, I can’t wait to come Home.
Not that I call it HomeTown much, anymore. This place has earned itself a new name, entirely.
Welcome to Paradise.
My children, they adore it here. Why wouldn’t they, when they have grass, and lots of it, when we go to the beach or the river or the lake every afternoon, taking That Bloody Dog along for a cruise? When Mum is relaxed, and calm, and more Mum than she has been since Before?
We have kangaroos, that visit our front lawn at dusk, and a possum and family of kookaburras in a gum tree in our back yard.
People are so nice, so very friendly- the sharp edge is taken off my loneliness by a visit to the fruit shop in the main street, which is small and expensive and comfortingly familiar.
Days are long and simple here. I eat, a lot, healthy food due to blessed lack of convienance. The air smells cleaner, the stars are amazing. Even the water tastes better.
I find satisfaction in small things- washing my dishes, hanging my washing, watering my plants. Changing the sandy, wet clothes of my children multiple times a day.
Yesterday I fixed my front fence, a gap at the bottom where my dog kept escaping. I made a trip to what used to be solely the domain of my husband and son- Bunnings. For those of you not in the know, Bunnings is a hardware store… on steroids.
I chose, with no freaking idea what I was doing, pre fab wire, fencing wire, clips and pincers. I lugged forty kilos (that’s heavy) of sand to my car, to fill my children’s sandpit. They weighed almost as much as I did.
Then I drove for forty minutes, back to Paradise, with two tired children in the back seat. I lugged them into bed… then I set about fixing that damn fence.
Before we go on, you should know- I’m a princess. I don’t do shit like mending fences, taking out bins, fending off feral kangaroos or mowing lawns. Especially not after I met Tony. He was the man of the house, and most definitely happy to treat me as a princess…. and, of course, I let him.
But there’s much to be said for
living outside the manner you’re accustomed to.
As I said…. the fence needed mending. And mend it I did. It took me two and half freaking hours, and left my hands bruised and bleeding. And That Bloody Dog managed to get under it again this morning, so it looks like myself and the fencing wire will bring doing battle once more, tomorrow at high noon.
But all that is OK. I’m tougher than I ever thought I was. Tony knew- I remember him telling me I was the strongest person he knew, tough as nails- I think an unassisted birth will give blokes that impression. But I’m starting to think that maybe he was right.
I am one tough cookie.
It’s just such a pity it took breaking my heart, to prove that to me.