10 August. I never stopped laughing yesterday. I am grateful for a friend who is as mad as me, as cheeky as me, as full of shit as me. As sweetly irreverent as me. Who speaks her mind just like me. And is the perfect plus one.
I love a good cup of hot tea. Its comforting. It feels like home. It stills me as it warms me. It is such a simple pleasure that I don’t always ponder. And that I definitely take for granted. Tonight I am grateful for a cup of tea, for the realisation of how therapeutic it actually is. And because it means it’s nearly bedtime.
I’m not enjoying Kate being away. It’s day 4 now. Yes, it’s fabulous for her and what an opportunity and wow she has become so independent and shoo wee how proud of her we are. Yadda yadda yadda. I bloody miss her. I’d be cool if I could just text, you ok? and get yip back with a smiley face. I really do hope she is having a fabulous time. But it’s just weird not having her home, especially knowing its for one whole month. And that I can’t talk to her or text her or message her. I’ve always been prone to instant gratification. Now has always worked for me. Ask B. And I miss my nightly teeaaaa please. And bloody little shit should have written a letter by now surely. I mean the australian postal system is so fabulous, isn’t it. I just want to know she’s ok. And that she has all she needs, that she’s sleeping ok, that she’s eating ok, that her friends are being kind, that the camp leaders are ok, that she’s not too cold, that she’s not too hot, that she gets to have her tea at night, how the cooking’s going, where the bathroom is, has she cleaned out the long drop loos yet, when does she go on her solo, are her torches working ok, is her sleeping bag cosy, is her throat still sore. Ok, so my control issues are still a little out of control. Do you think its a bit much if I ask the post office again how often they clear the post daily. I mean the lady I asked yesterday could have been a temp?
B has always had odd yet strangely perfect nicknames for the girls, often to do with whatever was dominating his life or theirs at any given time. I remember Jem being Lampard for a long while, a chelsea footballer. There is no significance as B is actually an arsenal supporter. B’s current nickname for Kate is KinKin. Also no significance. Anyway, we are under strict instructions to write to Kate daily, and B’s offering today was mostly a logo design. With a small paragraph. And a shot of Usain Bolt. Kate will love it. I am grateful our daughters have grown up with creativity every single day. It is part of who they are. Damn that it hasn’t rubbed off on me, I wrote three very long pages. Full of love and daily shit, but not much creativity. It is part of who I am. And anyway Kate would never forgive me if I just sent her a logo.
I am grateful for choices. Today I chose to spend an exquisite weekday morning on the beach. Because I was in awe of the beauty of the day and because I could. I am grateful that I get to choose. And I will never take that for granted. Ever.
Today I am grateful for a huge big smile.
I have mentioned B fondly refers to me as Cleese. I tend to be a tad of a dork and am often the butt of jokes in our family. In a nice way. Today I was grateful to play that role as it had the girls in absolute hysterics at lunch as Kate was updating Jem on my most recent attempt at joining in with B and Kate’s witty repartee. In my mind my comment was so funny I was already giggling, but somehow it didn’t sound the same outside of my mind. They could have at least been nice about it. Instead of rolling on the floor. Oh well. I am very grateful for a fun moment on Kate’s last day with us. I will be the butt of any joke if it helps to keep the mood light just before our baby leaves us for a month. I love how excited she is. I am grateful for her newfound fearlessness. Her readiness now to embrace a new adventure. To find the fun. Even if it is sometimes at my expense.
I have met some fabulous women here. Inspiring, interesting, capable, creative, nothing is too much for them women. I am grateful for the time spent today, alongside some of them, at the worlds best ever homemade lemonade stall. You women really do rock and are inspiring in your selflessness. And even if there had been vodka in the lemon slushy machine I couldn’t have had a better time.
After my lemon drizzle disaster I am grateful for my new go to never fail easy as chocolate vegan cake discovered only a short while ago. I made one quickly this am but forgot the baking soda so it tasted fab but looked flat. Very flat. So another. Third time lucky, I sent a cake off to school. Even Jem thought I was completely mad. I’m just a tad obsessive, and I’m grateful that I’ve finally made peace with that. And anyway, as you know, I love chocolate cake for lunch. And I shudder to think what a disaster our fair would have been if I hadn’t sent in a cake.
I am grateful for a sense of humour. Jem, who truly spends too much time smelling those roses, hadn’t given me the plate I had to fill for her school annual fete so I was under a little pressure to bake something late this afternoon. (Never mind I knew well what had to be done but had been otherwise occupied). Anyway felt suitably pleased with myself as did a quick grocery shop, booked a flight, made chicken satay for dinner, one of Kate’s faves as she’s away for a month from monday and baked a cake. I was basking in my super mother glory (see I can be this) when I opened the oven. Fuck. I hate cooking, I hate the kitchen and I’ll never not. I might just pretend from time to time. But, I do love a laugh, especially when its at myself. Just make sure if you’re at the fair you pay a premium for the squonky lemon drizzle, it’s one of a kind.
grace and dignity 