Yes? Well, last night as I wearily plodded through the blogosphere, commenting on your blogs through a Guinness-tinged haze, Kim sent me a brief but endearing email that went something along the lines of:
And I said (verbatim):
Saturday: Son #3’s soccer Goalkick, at oval 9am sharp. Son #1’s final soccer match for season (different suburb and oval to Son #3’s of course). Then, Son#1’s violin lesson in afternoon on other side of town. Son #2 dragged along to these events, whining and complaining was bored. Rest of day filled in with laundry, vacuuming, making fish curry (sensational but too hot for littles, recipe available on request) and eating it around (new! Built by children!) outdoor firepit (inaugural firelighting ceremony! Much smoke. Retreat indoors). Stay up until midnight cruising blogland and cursing stupid crashing computer. Restart computer four times. Cry a little at lack of funds for new computer. And new car. And bathroom with tiles not cracked and mouldy and taps not faux (and tarnished) gold.
Sunday: Son #2’s final soccer match for season, 8.30am. Followed by special 'team break up brunch' held at, wait for it, McDonalds. Husband and Son #2 attend this, while #1, #3 and I stay home and do laundry, bake cake, bake bread, vacuum bathroom, place vacuum cleaner hopefully in bedroom with vague notion someone might take hint, no one does, blog briefly about knitting projects and plans for glorious musical sunny relaxed and wholesome day with beautiful talented family. Return to kitchen. Scrub stove. Go back to computer and empty camera memorycard onto computer so can take camera to artistically photodocument goldpanning and concert playing, children frollicking in Spring sunshine etc. Pack car with picnic rug, basket with thermos (forget mugs but remember camera), two children, incredibly expensive violin and now cooling cake for fundraiser afternoon tea later at concert, and head to goldpanning event at river. Attend goldpanning with Son #3’s class and their families (this class big on community family outings). Lie on picnic rug drinking tea in sunshine (out of lid of thermos) and
[end of email]
And I didn’t take a single photo.