Acting like normal
Today was all about acting like normal, at work, at Fionn's school, at Brighid's kindy. Mostly, it worked. When a call came through to our office at work to say that the names had been released mid morning, spirits took a plummet.
So things like normal. Things to like and be proud of. I am extremely proud of the young people who have been part of the Red Cross response team.
A feature of our tragedy in Wetville is how little we can 'do'. I felt like doing something for someone and our beloved elderly relative, Mary K, is always a great choice. Brighid and I took her shopping and are planning something special for her birthday next week.
At school pickup, every single dad there was a particular blessing. Every single one, I thought when I saw them "there's a kid with a dad who is alive'. Despite the media hamming up the presure to go down the mine with dangerous gases and very poor safety indications, I don't actually think anyone in our town (that will be the m-e-d-i-a excepted; they are welcome to go back to their own home towns) wants to jeopardise more lives.
Back home, two treasures in the garden: artichoke hearts just beginning to show. I squeezed in a little weeding around the garlic before the story-fest which marks a rather too slow descent into sleeping silence in the children's bedroom each evening.
I've gone back to working on the dress I started sewing in January. Now it has sleeves and the skirt has a skirt-like form to it. I'm up to the part where I make the midriff pieces into the waist and ties. I think it is all going to be rather too big but given I didn't pay for the material, it takes the pressure off and gives me a chance to just learn to sew. I've been reading about adjusting patterns for fit recently. I definitely need to learn to sew with a straightforward unadjusted pattern first, which is what, I tell myself, I am doing at the moment.
So things like normal. Things to like and be proud of. I am extremely proud of the young people who have been part of the Red Cross response team.
A feature of our tragedy in Wetville is how little we can 'do'. I felt like doing something for someone and our beloved elderly relative, Mary K, is always a great choice. Brighid and I took her shopping and are planning something special for her birthday next week.
At school pickup, every single dad there was a particular blessing. Every single one, I thought when I saw them "there's a kid with a dad who is alive'. Despite the media hamming up the presure to go down the mine with dangerous gases and very poor safety indications, I don't actually think anyone in our town (that will be the m-e-d-i-a excepted; they are welcome to go back to their own home towns) wants to jeopardise more lives.
Back home, two treasures in the garden: artichoke hearts just beginning to show. I squeezed in a little weeding around the garlic before the story-fest which marks a rather too slow descent into sleeping silence in the children's bedroom each evening.
I've gone back to working on the dress I started sewing in January. Now it has sleeves and the skirt has a skirt-like form to it. I'm up to the part where I make the midriff pieces into the waist and ties. I think it is all going to be rather too big but given I didn't pay for the material, it takes the pressure off and gives me a chance to just learn to sew. I've been reading about adjusting patterns for fit recently. I definitely need to learn to sew with a straightforward unadjusted pattern first, which is what, I tell myself, I am doing at the moment.
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