Sweeney and I are in Christchurch, enjoying the hot, hot weather and the flat, flat terrain and the cooked breakfasts. Sweeney's also very much enjoying the neighbouring kids' skateboarding, footballing, tennis playing etc in the street. Whoo, and indeed, hoo.
We're in Christchurch because things in Wellington have gone doolally and I need some r'n'r. It's been a week now, time to engage with real life again, so I'm leaving Sweeney down here with the doting-est grandparents, and heading back on Tuesday to see a man about a job on Wednesday.
Then begin on the Everest job - packing up our house and finding someone to pay us to live in it for a while. And hopefully somewhere in the middle of that, find out where Martin is and tell him that we don't live there anymore. Yes, it's gone that doolally, and we're now into the third week of it. Have been immersing myself in knitting and reading an Edward de Bono book about teaching your child thinking skills since I've been down here. Oh, and devouring a lot of biscuits.
So there are no pictures or jokes on this post, sorry. A bit glum, but not as glum as I thought I'd feel about this. Not the end of the world ...
