I know weather-related blogging is boring, but weather is CONSUMING me. Most years in Wellington, the unsettled spring weather sails on right through Christmas Day. (Because Wellington weather is crap.)
But SURPRISE this year scorching hot summer weather and hay fever have arrived early. And we all have been miserable.
In the morning we have been waking up to sore throats, sore heads, and stuffy noses. Last week I kept Five home from school. Because I thought he had a cold. And I am soft and gooey inside.
“No, it’s hay fever,” said Adam as he popped another antihistamine tablet.
Of course it is.
Every year Adam is crippled by hay fever when the grass begins to bloom.
I really don't like this stupid flowering grass. Because along with the man flu, it's Adam's Kyptonite.
On my first visit to New Zealand, at the very onset of summer, Adam and I tried to go camping. (Or if you prefer, tramping.)
Anyway, we hiked in to a place that Adam couldn't find on a little goat trail with enormous packs. (Because Adam insists on bringing everything and the kitchen sink with us.) But after the first night, we had to turn back. Because Adam was defeated by hay fever.
This year Five and I also are suffering. But it’s churlish to complain. Especially when many of you in the Northern Hemisphere are cold, and there is snow. LA LA LA. Look, the pohutukawa is flowering.
In other news I forgot today was the last day of school. I thought it was tomorrow. As it clearly should be.
I also forgot the school was letting the kids out at midday. I am that mother. Who forgets to pick up her kid.
I'd like to blame the school because they suck at communicating. But if all the other parents are on top of things, the problem must be me. Confirming that I am indeed getting stupider as I get older.
Hello, early onset dementia.
And no school for SIX WEEKS. For the duration of the long summer holidays. Which will cause me to unravel even more. OMG. (Hold me.)
Maybe I should think about going back to paid work. Because I am unqualified for work as housekeeper and nanny. And financial storms are causing us anxiety, which paid work would help to alleviate.
That is, if I can find paid work. It seems rather daunting. Especially since I have no discernible skills, and I'd prefer a job where nobody expects me to do anything. Are there jobs like that?
If I do have a paid job, and it's the NANNY who forgets to pick up Five, I can rant. As it is now, if I forget to pick up Five, all I can do is feel guilty.
Whilst on the topic of dementia, I’m going to be over at my friend Neil’s blog for his holiday concert. You are not going to want to miss this. Neil is so smart and funny, and he is kind of famous. But he still talks to me on IM and Twitter, and sometimes he even comments here.
Please stop by Neil’s blog, Citizen of the Month, and be wowed by my sounds of summer in the South Pacific, with ukulele (that I just learned to play) and special musical stylings by Five.
Unmagical thinking - I know people talk about the transformative power of grief, and I know that there’s supposed to be some alchemy whereby you internalize the person you lost...