19 January 2018
I love grandchildren. I mean, don't get me wrong. I just couldn't eat a whole one.
My six week sentence, sorry, vacation, has just about been served. With time off for good behaviour we should be back on the boat by Wednesday.
It's been a busy time and a bit of Deja Vu. (That well known '70's album).
Back in 2011 when, without a lot of warning, like unsuspecting sparrows who had been enjoying the company of a new feathered friend in the nest, we found ourselves fluttering to the ground, out the nest, out of work, out of home, sitting on Time Bandit wandering what the heck just happened to our lives, the "cuckoo", (our eldest) having taken the reins of both.
Undeterred, or more likely, plain unprepared, we just stocked the boat and sailed off. No emptying the house. No realtors. No renting. Just stand aside as the cuckoos move in, pack a rucksack, catch a train and bingo, we were outta there.
It was therefore a bit odd during our sentence/vacation at home, our kids all now in their own homes all having had their turn at using our rent, rates and apparently maintenance free house and leaving us, well Anne, to pack up, completely empty the house and walk away. Leaving with a capital L. A sensation we missed first time around. And it did have a real sense of finality.
But I'm sure we'll get over it.
Three more days at the soft play centre then back to our reality.
(No offence kids)