Holidays are well and truly over. Back at work and the tears have started already. God I'm a sook. You would be too if your only competent colleague was running away when Children's Book Week is on. Can't blame her - it's through bad news, not any fault or intention of her own.
Came back from the wee 'end of holidays' jaunt up north to find my love has 'blitzed' our home. Turf and paving has been laid, new plants planted, furniture repaired varnished and oiled, and he's even done a gorgeous huge painting for the bedroom. I'm flabbergasted!
Zen pup was pretty pleased to see me. Which was cute. All lovey and cuddly and snuggly. Until I tackled her to stop her digging up the new turf. She didn't speak to me for a while after that.
Some of Brisvegas was fun. Miss A and myself frocked up and headed to Greazefest. We needed a bit of eye-candy to heal our tired eyes. While the weather was wonderful up north, Brisvegas didn't hold too much in the way of people-visuals. So a footy field full of greaser boys and girls dolled was terribly appealing.
There was still a dag element there though *sighs*.
We are so terribly spoilt by the gloriousness of the beautiful people and friends in our queer ghetto here.
But we bought pretty things for less money than expected. And nearly got sunburnt. And drank coopers (warm from the walk there and smuggled in) on a hillside overlooking all the beautiful shiny colourful cars.
The day before this bustle of cherryprint dresses and tattoos and sunshine, was a mostly horrific day that only made it to 'anxiety neutral' status due to the delight of seeing my Gran and her wonderful mood (my visit happily coincided with her first day of release from her nursing home room in 2 weeks because of a gastro-lockdown of the whole village).
This is to say that it was such a delight to see her that it just made up for the near panic attacks at trying to get out of the apartment we were staying at and walking to the city and negotiating the buses to a distant suburb I've only seen once before (it didn't exist when I lived in Brisbane), and then later being stuck there for over an hour at a deserted bustop watching the gorgeous day disappear on me because the scheduled bus never showed, and then later arguing with a taxi driver that pretended to not know where my rather-cental-and-easy-to-find destination was, or the existance of any suitable change in his cab for me so I'd have to use my credit card, and then magically finding the perfect change in notes and coins when I denied having a card.
Oh. My. God.
Before that I spent a delightful 30 hours with my sister and her new puppy. She has a gorgeous house in a valley surrounded by cow paddocks and a creek. Sooo nice. Even if I was woken often by the sound of cow stomachs in the night. Weird.
My darling sis' and her farmhouse:
Here's a picture of my morning cow:
And of the puppy of cheeky-cuteness:
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