The horror attic clean-out has begun. Husband started the job while I was transporting the chooks to Port Stephens. He sent me a photograph of a little gem that he unearthed: the youngest's first report card, from her New York Montessori school days. The message he attached said: "Recognise this little girl? I do." The... Continue Reading →
Isn’t it ironic? Don’t you think?
Confession: I might have been a teensy bit weepy last night. OK, my mum and sister - who fielded phone calls from me as I trailed the frigid streets of Sydney's CBD to my bus stop - would regard that as a slight understatement. There was something unexpectedly confronting about finishing my first day at... Continue Reading →