Not Feeling Very Well

I was reading Miss Smith's blog the other day - and you should, too, because she's rather special and good - and her post was about her smaller poppet, who'd been in hospital with chicken pox complications. When I read it, I thought to myself "if only Sweeney would get chicken pox, and just get it over with".
Oh, and a whole bunch of get well wishes for the littl'un, Miss Smith. That goes without saying ...

But it is not to be. He's been in close quarters with kids who've caught it on two occasions this winter, but it's not taken hold of him.

What he has got, though, is a rattly, horrid cough for the last few weeks, and his eating's tailed right off and his ears feel like they're on fire, so he's been home with his Grandad this week. A visit to Dr Carla yesterday was remarkably helpful - it's a chest infection. He's all rumbly breathing.

Before we went to the doctor, whenever I asked him if/where he felt sore or uncomfortable, he said "my heart, Mum" and pointed to his appendix in a resolute fashion. Dr Carla confirmed that his heart and appendix are in fine form.

Long story short, he's still not eating at a four-year-old level, and there are big dips in his vim from time to time.
But he's stayed chirpy and consistently galooty as usual. And he loves his medicine and always hustles for an extra dose. The cough sounds less tubercular today.

In other news, lovely things have been happening. Arthur next door turned 3 - hurrah!! Sweeney's friend Jackson came for a play on Saturday. Sweeney went to Blessing's for a sleepover, then we had Blessing over for still more playing on Sunday. The weather here over the weekend was wicked. Our auntie Lesley came for dinner before heading back to Nimbin. Sweeney's cousin Victoria had a birthday, but Sweeney's mother forgot to even send a text. I hear she's a terrible person for remembering birthdays. So I'll finish with ...

Happy birthday, Victoria!!

A Little (K)night Music

Sweeney dressed up as a knight for his teacher Mo's last day party at preschool the other day. She took a photo of him in his outfit. He loved thrashing about with that inflatable sword so much, it had several slow leaks by the end of the day.

In other news, last week I went to a work event, drank about 10,000 drinks and felt bad for four days. Yoga and good eating went out the window. This week, I resumed my regime, but I still feel like this ...

Maybe not so much in the nose department, but you know, unwieldy and enormous.

And that's us pretty much up to date.

That Day is Done

My horoscope today said a whole bunch of stuff about rubbing against the world instead of flowing along with it. It so turned out that way.

Spooky.

I felt a vague sense of annoyance at just about everyone I dealt with at work. Some people at work made me feel less vague about my annoyance, but there you go.

I found out the hard way that my bean sprouts last six days, but not seven. Yuk.

I went to the yoga class that I look forward to more than any other yoga class, and I was so out of sorts with it that I left and stood in the foyer for a few minutes just to make myself less out of sorts. Then I went back in and felt better.

It is the best yoga class ever. Really.

As I walked home I contemplated buying a KFC burger and scarfing it in the street. So glad I didn't.

Because dinner was delicious and Sweeney was chuffed to see me and I had a lovely shower and read him The Snail and the Whale and Dad brought out delicious pudding and now I'm watching a Poirot on telly.

In other news, Harper was at our place for a few days last week, while Kimberley spent some time in Christchurch with Mum. Okay, I know - they're little boys - and little boys like to pick their nose. But somehow two of them going at it got to me and I introduced a horror regime - timeout for anyone caught picking their nose.

It's turned out effective as all get-out, but the crowning moment was when they caught me - ME - idly wiggling a finger up my own nose, and they thought it was great gas to put me - ME - into timeout.

This is the view from timeout. Not so bad, is it?? I'm coming to think that timeout's rather lovely, after all.

The prospect of 44 minutes being left completely alone was quite appealing, but Sweeney told me I could come out after five minutes, because he and Harper needed juice.

Time in a Bottle

Of course everyone knows about the earthquake. It's all over the news here. My mum - Sweeney's Nana - is fine and the house is okay. Her neighbours are okay. Everyone I know there is okay.

Elsewhere, beautiful buildings and gorgeous roads are broken. I got all choked up watching a video of some demolition today. Part of Christchurch's appeal for me has been all the things that have stayed the same since ... forever.

So I've made a list of the bits that if I had my way, would stay in a little capsule for all time. Some are in bits now, I know, but whatever ...

1. Avonside Drive. Fantastic stretch of road for riding your black, one-speed bike with a basket on the front;
2. the Staff Club. Now a private, shattered home. I walked past it at least twice a day every day of my first year at varsity;
3. 151 Fitzgerald Ave. Mum and Dad brought me here when I was brand spanking new. I don't remember living there, but I like that it's been there for me to drive past. It's one of the few places I lived in in Christchurch that hasn't been turned into a carpark or infill housing;
4. Kosta's Souvlaki Bar. I've never liked any other souvlaki ever.
5. the Museum. Still love that same street scene they've had since ... forever. And the mummy;
6. the Botanic Gardens. The fountain. The cactus house. The beds of yarrow. The ancient trees. The duck pond;
7. Dux De Lux. Last time I went there, the Sports channel was playing in one bar and there was a queue of teenagers to get in. But I remember long summer evenings in the courtyard, the crush on Saturday nights, the delicious cafe. And the first time I met Martin was at the Dux, after he and my boyfriend had got themselves into a horrible state and needed rescuing;
8. the Gladstone. A great band on every Friday night, or a rubbish one that one of your friends played in. Rheineck-squelchy carpet. It got pulled down years ago;
9. the beaches - Taylor's Mistake, Sumner and Brighton. Christchurch beaches are the awesomest beaches in the world;
10. 377 Marine Parade. Best house I've ever lived in. Across the road from the beach. Crazy terraced garden. Fold-out table and chairs in the kitchen. I got my first bike the Christmas we lived there, and I spent most of the summer riding up and down the coastline.

Anyhoo, there is no time capsule, and a good part of my list is changed forever. But the main thing is that Mum's okay. Love you, Mum!! Love you, Nana!!