Campground

Well, several weeks ago I was sitting in church when they announced that there was to be a Father/son camp at the Wilson's home.

That's nice, I thought. Andrew will have to take the boys to that.

Then I realised that we were the Wilson's and it was going to be in our yard.

Andrew is generous, if not a little forgetful and I didn't consider it a problem really, because being the Father, Andrew could take care of it.

Several days later Andrew announced that he would not be there as his work trip coincided with the camp.

So, on Friday night a bunch of boys and their Dads pitched tents down below. I was mildly concerned when the Bishop, (whose wife proudly proclaimed is a pyromaniac) came earlier in the day to set up a wire from the tallest tree down on an angle to the bonfire 50m below with the intentions of having a blazing fireball travel down the wire to ignite the bonfire with a combination of diesel fuel and kerosene.

To calm my nerves, Steve Krix, the ward's resident fire fighter, came by and hooked up a portable pump to our pool...just in case. Fortunately I am qualified in 'remaining calm' as my years of experience with my own brazen boys has given me adequate training.

I am happy to report that all went well. We had to leave for football at 7.15am and everyone was still there cooking breakfast on the campfire. By all accounts everyone had a good time.

A little weary

It has been a busy week and I have struggled a bit with Andrew away again. I think writing is therapeutic for me and this poem is reflective of how I was feeling.
I am sure as Mothers, you have all been there!

I am a little weary
from making all the meals;
I am a little weary
from all the boisterous squeals;
I am so very weary
from driving to the games,
with fighting in the car,
with teasing and calling names.

I'm just so very weary
with smells that shouldn't be;
with dirty socks and undies
and toilet seats with pee!
I'm sick of feeling weary
and of being a grumpy Mum;
I need a quick solution
before I come undone.

I know I could be happy
if the house was always clean;
if jobs were done with vigor
and they were never heard, but seen.
I'm sure I could be happy
if I had the weekends free;
No football, mud or washing
Just all the time for me.

But this life is a test
to see how well we do;
to raise our kids with love
and a little patience too.
So when I'm feeling weary
please let me always know
the mess, the noise and chaos
are there to help me grow.

Seeing red

I have told a few of you about getting our glass splashback up in the kitchen and promised to post pictures. Well here it is. It is hard to tell the true colour of the glass, as the reflection of the flash keeps on altering it. This picture also makes the cupboards look light pink which they are not. We love the glass though, as most of the house is in neutral colours and we really needed a splash of colour. This deep red really livens things up. We just need to get stainless steel covers for our power points and we will be all finished.