I seem to have misplaced my sarcasm somewhere amongst the mistletoe. It's shooting ducks in a barrel. It's also terribly unproductive. I am actually proud of myself that so far I haven't started any fights (well hardly any).
Of course, my live without alcohol this year resolve is looking a little bit sunk and it's only January 3rd. I blame the children.
And so blog, I apologise. I thought I could carpe diem and write more. I was wrong. Firstly, I am being social. Secondly, if not being social I am being incredibly organised and Ikeaing the entire family. Some mothers knit. I build furniture, pack trucks, find replacement pieces for precious broken things and sort like some kind of turbobot. I also take out the rubbish. Tons of it.
In the break from facilitating my parent's (still not finished!) move to Sydney, I have done the children's annual clean and sort. I think an amazing garage sale is coming up as I've exhausted the capacity of relatives (in distant lands), under the stairs and I'm tired of packing things up to donate them to the school or childcare centre or cat protection society.
Finally, we're about to go off again to place without internet. Which has caused some damned angst I can tell you. Not to mention the cats. I trust my eldest will utilise the opportunity to hang out here watching wide screen tv while feeding the little buggers and give them some attention.