1. I am not at all stressed about Christmas this year. I am under orders from David not to be. It's working ... so far. Previous years have seen me making cards, making decorations making gifts, making wrapping paper, cooking feasts and wondering why no-one else in the house was getting into it while I wallied about like a banshee. Mind you, I fancy making a few wee birdy-type decorations for this year's tree on the weekend, and I'll make the cake because that is fun.
2. The blokes are back from down south, having completed firebreaks and mowing down all he winter grass. As I write this, Will is watching an ancient game of footy on the telly with the sound off and David is at a meeting.
3. I am about to try to invent something nourishing and tasty for dinner with two chicken breasts and a mango.
I shall leave you with a pic of St George's Terrace, the main thoroughfare in this mining town of ours, which, like the foolish virgin I am, I imagined would be a quicker route home. Wrong. It looked nice in the low sunshine, though.
1. Mum's home after a month in New Zealand – a trek and a half for her at 83, considering she's terrified of flying and very shaky on her pins. She had tricky stopovers in Melbourne going both ways, that were almost as long as the flying time. But it was lovely for her and my brother to see each other and, we hope, the first of many.
2. The blokes in my household are away down south doing the firebreaks and mowing the bush block in readiness for the fire season. And while I'd rather they were here, I am enjoying the lack of cricket commentary and bass rhythms.
3. A bit of sewing, above. I made this:
from this pile of Liberty offcuts from my best friend, Shelley:
and a bit I had lying around.
