I haven’t forgotten again. just doing lots of things. it was the school holidays so that kind of took a lot of my time. I have been using the time when I am waiting in the afternoons for Abigail and Kristian to come out of school to write these entries. (one might think that would be just a few minutes, but one would be wrong. it’s usually at least 15 or 20 minutes once you take into account how early you have to get to school to be able to get a decent park.)
the school holidays went quite smoothly overall. the first week we had a few things to do and the second week my mum was away (at the grands again) which I was kind of dreading since I would have no one to talk to. no one adult, that is. but we managed. we had wanted to try putting together my mum’s new pool during the holidays but for whatever reason we didn’t really get a chance to start until Thursday of the first week. then it turned out that the new one is quite a bit bigger than the old one so we couldn’t just put it on top of where the old one was. then it started looking like rain and we rushed to get all the sand moved and covered up before it got washed away. I didn’t feel brave enough to attempt doing anything on it with only myself and three small persons so we just left it alone. today is the first chance we have had to get back to it. my mum and I dismantled about half of the brick ‘retaining wall’ that surrounds the bed of sand that the pool sits on so that we can make it bigger. some of the bricks we could just pull out but some of them we had to whack at with a hammer and chisel to loosen the mortar holding them together. dora thought it was very interesting and sat a lot closer to the swinging hammer than she really should have but no one hit her. the chickens also decided to watch once they realised that sometimes when we move a brick, there are bugs under it which we will throw at them to swallow whole. (seriously, they do. I don’t know what the point of eating something is if you aren’t even gonna let it touch the inside of your mouth. beak. whatever.)
daniel started a new job last week. it is a lot (a LOT) closer to home and he finishes half an hour earlier than he did at the previous job so he is getting home a lot earlier now which is awesome. on Friday evening we went out to dinner with several other of his new colleagues and their other halves. (the email about the dinner said ‘partners‘ but you know I keep thinking the wrong thing when I hear that. turns out none of them are gay.)
This entry has been a casualty of blogus interruptus, which is an ancient Latin term meaning 'life got in the way.'
But. Now that I am uploading this later it seems like a good link into this article I read recently. Why I Refer to My Husband, My Romantic Partner, and My Life Companion as My Mate. The reason the author did that was because basically a lesbian friend of hers asked her to not say “my husband” until she (and everyone else) was legally able to say “my wife.” (There is a lot more amusing stuff in the article about the confusion all these different labels caused, you should read it.) So that’s a fair enough request I suppose but the reason that I found it interesting is because I have always been much more inclined to go the other way. I recall talking to one specific friend during school about it, about my mother’s wife.
“But they’re not really married…”
“Yes, they are,” I would say. “They had a wedding.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t REAL…”
No, of course, it was all in my imagination.
My friend eventually agreed but I think that was more to humour me and shut me up than me actually having changed her mind. But even her choosing to stop arguing against my point is a step in the right direction.