DD and I are feeling a bit buffeted by life – it’s moving at such a crazy pace at the moment.
So we wound down yesterday by throwing a few steaks on the barbie, clinking cider bottles, then hopping on a ferry to Ettalong for some water therapy.
DD loves a ferry ride and the one between Palm Beach and Ettalong traverses a pretty gorgeous part of the world. We didn’t even get off, just cruised there and back, soaking up the sun and sea spray.
We both felt much more zen afterwards and joined one of DD’s soccer mates for a bevvy at the local bar before I headed home.
(All my spectacles are broken bar my prescription sunnies, so I had to get back by dark. Old age is a terrible thing.)
DD has some great mates living on the Northern Beaches, it’s one of the main reasons I’ll never entice him south of Narrabeen Lake.
The three of us sat sipping Uber Blanc riesling and shooting the breeze about everything from RSVP to some of DD’s more eye-widening experiences in the ER.
DD’s chitter chat skills were also discussed. According to his mate, DD is a champion talker for a bloke. DD looked very smug.
DD might be a champion talker for a Northern Beaches male, but I come from a journalistic background. Male journalists barely take a breath on the conversational front.
I’m getting used to the quiet though, it unsettles me less as time goes on … Or perhaps he’s learned to talk more.
Either way, we’ve found a nice groove.
And my Sunday afternoon was such a lovely one. Here are some happy snaps:
My soothed soul won’t stay that way for long, however. The week from hell is about to begin.
Two looooong days in Luna Park function rooms for work, followed by two days on the road for work. Two dogs and two kids to try and juggle at the same time.
Blardy hell. Stop the world, I want to get off.
Good luck with your week: is it looking crazy like mine?
Song of the day: Rod Stewart “Sailing”