Gypsy is back...
to her annoying self today, stealing the duck's breakfast, meowing the place down and getting underfoot. I
seriously don't know how this girl is still chugging along. She weighs about as much as a drinking straw and her body is being ravaged with old lady sores. I had made up my mind yesterday that if by Monday morning she was still not eating that we would make the journey to the vet and say our last goodbye. But while she's still eating, drinking and being somewhat merry I just can't do it. She may look like the walking dead but she still has life in her. I'm hoping that she will be the one to go peacefully in her sleep. I
hate, hate, hate having to make the final boarding call. I even cried when I had to put down the two guinea pigs - Seven and Fudge. Not fun.
Big pat on...
the back for my cool, calm and collected nocturnal mum efforts last night. Teen•M left for a party around 8pm. Come 9am
he still wasn't home. I went to bed with the preconceived idea that he most likely wouldn't come home last night and that is was likely he would crash at the party. This allowed me to sleep rather well, although I periodically woke and recognised the fact that I hadn't heard him come in. Of course when I tried ringing him several times this morning and he didn't answer I had to tell myself that he couldn't be in hospital because someone would have answered his phone for him. Finally when I reached him around midday he was in Maccas and couldn't see what the fuss was all about. Boys!
Last year at...
a women's business lunch I heard
Paula Constant speak about her trek through the Sahara desert. She was an engaging speaker and most of us who went from work agreed that her story was interesting. She mentioned that not far into the walk her husband left her high and dry in the desert.
At least that's what we remember her saying. Once back at work my cellmate googled Paula only to read that Paula had slept with one of the guides on the trek and that's why hubby left. Hmmmm. Her story intrigued me enough that I bought her first book
Slow Journey South. This story begins on the beach in Broome and even here I can see that she is somewhat dissatisfied with her relationship. Her frustration with him is apparent during the birth of the idea of walking the Sahara. I'm hooked.