Mother’s Day

My beloved Mum and Dad have been away for about two and a half months. We moved to the farm, into a loft next to their house, then they left on a big trip, four days later.

We've been doing our own thing but using their lovely big kitchen. And kind of house sitting. 

They came home today, due home for a Mother's Day afternoon tea. 

Can you imagine how we were? Just a little bit of running around sweeping floors, moving great piles of baking tubs out of the kitchen and into the garage, picking up the chaos of three smallies, with them circling us dropping more things (or in Tilly's case, creating some massive piece of welcome-home installation art on the front doorstep with six metre long pieces of bamboo. Thanks Tilds.)

And they arrived early. Just as we were jumping on top of the garbage bin and wiping the texta off the coffee table. 

We made tea. We're so truly happy to have them home. Dad did a round of the sheds and animals with Adam before he even sat down.

While I made a few confessions to Mum…


I'm sorry about the microfibre cloth. I, er, grabbed it to pick up a hot saucepan. I'm also sorry about the saucepan. Which still has pink microfibre cloth permanently stuck to it. 


Ah yes, the massive blackboard which has been installed on your back verandah. Hope that's OK. The school was giving them away for free. Not too obvious?



I've kind of stuck a whole lot of herb pots out there too. I'm sure we won't fall over them?


Oh that? Your loungeroom doubled as a Bikkie packaging room. It was perfect, thanks. 


I know that this planter box, right on your front doorstep, was full of green loveliness before you left. Somehow, we managed to almost kill it before we noticed and started tending it with worm water and care. Might just take longer than the four days we've tended it to come good again. I'm sure it'll come good again.


I seem to have undertaken a colonisation of your pantry. Hope that's OK.


And I believe I may have killed or permanently maimed the majority of your houseplants. 

Love you, Mum.

So glad you're home. 

And that you have a wonderful sense of humour.

P.S Some kid, not actually mine, apparently swung on the clothesline and it's a bit buggered. Adam's going to fix it. Love you.



P.P.S For my sisters: I did not, for the record, leave either the loungeroom or the pantry like that. For the record. They were tidy. Love you. 



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