like a wet rag

The last week has wrung me out like a wet rag.  Some weeks are like that.  But somewhere inside comes the strength to keep going, to smile and be one more second patient than your children can nag.

I have had two funerals - one a work colleague and one lady I knew who was beloved.

I have traveled to Armidale and back to Brisbane in 24 hours.

I have camped with my small group from church, who are a diverse bunch of people with Christ in common.  A small camping trip involving a lot of packing for one night.  But worth it.

I have traveled to Pomona and back to sing with choir. The beauty of a team of voices and the hotness of a theatre in country Queensland with no air-con dressed in concert blacks with the sweat pooling in your shoes.

I have cried with a friend.

I have continued planning my trip to Krygyzstan and China next year.

I have worked and taught RE and cooked and made sure some clothes were clean.  I have helped write a speech for leadership positions in grade seven and I have driven daughters to piano.  I have made sure a daughter is ready for a ballet exam next week with new stockings and three dancing lessons.

I have played with children at a funeral, and tried to answer their questions about the absence of someone.

I have held my husband and dreaded the day when we may be parted by death.

I have laughed with my girls and fed them cereal for dinner.  Because some weeks are like that.

I have continued to read Les Miserables and reflect upon the grace that can transform a life.

I have ......

alto buddies in choir

Pines in Armidale

camping set up at Boreen Point

This is how you flatten a tent to fit back into the bag - use a handy 9 year old.

friends