Well, that was a doozy of a weekend! Happy tears one minute. Sad ones the next. Cranky tears the next minute. Embarrassing ones the next.
It started on Friday night, when I not only wept quietly at my gorgeous daughter Allie's singing performance at her end-of-year concert, but every other act as well. Kids trying their best - they just kill me!
Saturday saw the storms - and the loss of all power at our place. Not to worry, we thought, everyone must be in the same boat. Oh how wrong can you be? Lol again.
Then after finishing up my
Highpoint Christmas gig on Saturday arvo - where my daughters saw this sign with my name on it and laughed so much that they were crying. I'm talking paroxysms of laughter. Supportive, huh? Well, they were eventually lovely and supportive. Once they stopped laughing.
Home to still no power, and the bad news from the power company. The rain had somehow killed some piece of equipment or something (I was searching for a cold champagne by that point) and they would have to disconnect our power for safety reasons. Overnight. Sad face.
Cue to an extremely Amish evening of take-away by candlelight, and trying to convince two teenagers and a twelve year old that the internet was overrated, and that we could enjoy an evening together actually, you know, speaking. Cue to more hysterical laughter. But you know what? We ended up actually talking, and as lame as it sounds, starting playing an ironic game of charades and ended up - you guessed it - laughing 'til we cried. Well I was crying, but it could have been champagne related.
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| before and after the spray job - in Dulux's Pink Sherbet Spraypak |
Sunday - I was having some serious blog reading withdrawals. What was baby-mac up to? What about Pottymouthmama, and oeke? I didn't admit this to anyone though. Instead I spray-painted the pool chairs that had become extremely grubby after winter. And sobbed through the end of my book (Caroline Overington's haunting 'I Came To Say Goodbye').
By 5 o'clock last night we finally had our power reconnected - but if I tell you how many thousands of dollars it cost I may start crying over again. There goes my dream of a little something to hang on the wall by
Arite Kannavos for Christmas, or maybe this divine ride from
Papillionaire.
We rounded off the weekend with a lovely dinner for Jem's mum's birthday. Happy birthday Jude. We're back on track now. No more tears. Sniff.
hx