I’ve been spending the day at my parents’ place, while Rick’s been looking after the boys at home. I guess you could call it a ‘day off’ for me.
It’s been drizzling a bit, and it’s been cold. Despite the thick socks I’d brought with me, I’ve needed to borrow my mum’s Ug boots for extra warmth.
It’s been rather surreal, sitting here in my old bedroom. None of my old furniture remains, yet the room still seems strangely familiar. It’s like we’re old friends.
I’ve brought along my scrapbooking and my computer. The plan is to sort through some 6,000 photos from the last few months, as well as finish some scrapbooking that I’ve been working on in the past month.
I’ve been drinking cups of tea and eating lots of food from my parents’ pantry. I’m looking forward to my mum’s cooking tonight – it’s been too long since I last had a meal here.
I’ve been walking around in mum’s garden, admiring her many pots and plants. She’s a hard worker, my mum. You can tell by how well the garden is maintained. Every day of the year.
I’ve been thinking of my friends who lost their baby girl early this morning. My heart is heavy, knowing the hard times they have ahead.
I’ve been missing my little boys. Looking through their photos reminds me of how precious they are, and how they grow up all too quickly.
Most of all, I’ve been taking it slowly. Coming home to my old home has been exactly what I’ve needed, without even knowing it.
(More creative spaces over here!)