I was still a bit croooooook yesterday, but I struggled out of bed to attend a travel brekkie function: Royal Caribbean’s relaunch of the Voyager of The Seas.
(I’m spending a night on the ship on December 8. Theme for my story: How much fun can you cram into a 12-hour cruise? OK, more like: How many cocktails can you cram into a 12-hour cruise?)
My plans went pear shaped when the youngest wobbled into the kitchen, started crying and said she felt siiiiiiiick …
Cue sagging shoulders. I tried jollying her along and suggested she might struggle through school to recess, but she was having none of it. So I called Husband in a panic and asked if he could take parental leave, but he had a meeting in the city.
It hadn’t occurred to me to set up remote access for myself to my new job, which meant I didn’t have the PR’s number to let her know I couldn’t make it. I HATE letting people down. So I parked the youngest in front of the tellie, asked Husband to check on her in 20 minutes, whizzed to Aqua Dining to pop my head in the door … and scoffed this rather delish plate of food …
While admiring at this fabulous view …
Then I bolted back home to stroke the little one’s fevered brow … well, to be entirely accurate, to put another DVD on (Ferris Bueller’s Day off – Matthew Broderick was sooooo cute, I was quite transfixed by his shower scene).
Panicked about falling behind at work, I decided to head to the office in the late arvo, when Husband could finally collect the sick sproglette (via dropping my home loan application to my awesome bank manager, Pauline Barton – she’s at St George’s Pitt & Market Street branch and she’s a marvel. Give her a buzz if you need a loan and tell her I sent you).
With a few hours to kill/maximise until then, I reluctantly dragged myself away from Ferris to cook curried sausages for the kids’ dinner tonight (get the recipe by clicking here).
Then I sat down at the computer to ponder today’s blog topic and drew a complete blank. So I searched to see what I’d written this time last year and got a bit spooked – I’d forgotten it was the anniversary of my nan passing away. Curried sausages and my nan went together like a horse and carriage. Every school holidays she’d have a pot waiting when I arrived. The Gravox lumps got progressively bigger and more numerous as the years passed, but it was the thought that counted.
Nan could never remember that I didn’t drink tea or coffee, she asked me if I wanted a cup every single time I visited, but she never forgot my affection for curried sausages.
I miss my Nan. Cue leaky eyes.
Here’s what I wrote last year about it: Thinking of days that are no more
And to read about what it’s like to accidentally spill your relative’s ashes all over yourself read: So many tears
Hug the ones you love. And then hug them some more.
Song of the day: Everything But The Girl “Missing”