I have not written about P before.
That is partly because I’m not confident that my words can do him justice.
But it’s also because loss can do funny things to people. It can make you claim a closeness that others don’t recognise, as you grapple with your own emotions and try to make sense of them.
I don’t want to do that.
There are others who knew P better than I did, so I’ve waited, because I didn’t want to speak on their behalf.
But he was my friend too, and now the time feels right.
February already!
It’s not my favourite month, to be honest. It’s such a tease.
One day you can walk through the park without even a jacket, admiring the snowdrops and daffodils that are poking their heads through the earth, and lifting your face to feel the warmth of the sun. It can really feel like spring is within touching distance. The next day it’s back to hat, gloves and scarf, and you walk through that same park cursing the slap of wind and rain on your cheeks. As I type this morning, there are several inches of snow on the ground, and those poor daffodils must be wishing they could tuck back down into the soil. Continue reading
What a lovely thing I found yesterday!
When one of my great aunts died, at least ten years ago, but probably closer to fifteen, I remember spending some time helping my mum sort through her belongings. I picked up two very old autograph books, which had belonged to my great uncle as a boy, and asked if I could keep them.
I came across them again yesterday when I was sorting through boxes, and I had forgotten how absolutely beautiful they are. Both are leather-bound, with ‘Album; embossed on the outside in gold lettering. One is dated 1918, and the other seems to have entries dating from 1924-1926.
I mentioned in a post last week that we’d done our application for DorkySon’s reception place. With that task out of the way, I’ve had to turn my attention to the other big thing that I knew this year would bring.
Job-hunting.
*weeps quietly*
As the start of school will mean that DorkySon will be in someone else’s care for five full days a week, rather than just the three mornings that he currently spends in nursery, the time has come for me to find some kind of gainful employment. Continue reading
Every so often, something unexpected will really take my breath away as it reminds me how much DorkySon is growing up.
It’s not usually something big or significant that startles me into that realisation. We have dispensed with naps and nappies, with a minimum of fuss. Sippy cups and sleep suits are a thing of the past, and I haven’t shed a tear over either. But this weekend I had one of those moments where I stopped and looked at my boy, shaking my head in disbelief. Wow.
DorkySon needed new shoes. Continue reading
Dorkymum | Stories from Tasmania 