Frozen

Brrr. I really mean it. The temperature's dropped, it's raining and grey. Inside preschool, it's gorgeous and warm and impossible to convince Sweeney that he should wear his rainjacket for outside. Sigh.

Yesterday was my Nana's birthday. If she was still alive, she'd be 106. Five things about Nana (not comprehensive at all):

• she taught me to embroider when I was nine;
• she was 4'10", and her husband, my Grandad, was over 6';
• she used Oil of Ulan on her face, and smoked Cameo cigarettes;
• I don't recall her ever calling Kimberley anything other than Kimp, or my mum, Vanya, Van; and
• she only ever stroked her cat, Noddy, with her foot, with an Anton slipper on.

Today Sweeney's Granny's house was handed over to its new owners. Sad, really, but I'm sure the new people will love that house and garden, and that's what counts.

It used to drive me nuts that Mum wanted to drive past houses that had belonged to dead relatives, but I'm more understanding of it now. There's always a pang at going past Nana's house in Greymouth.

In other news, we're going to combat the cold blast by buying sunglasses tomorrow. Yes. We may even rug up and take the bus into town, because I bet there'll be a grillion people looking for a spot to park their car.

Oh, and the interview went okay. Impossible to tell until they offer me the contract or tell me I'm a loser. Can't wait ...