My ill feelings and premonitions of Monday have fortunately proved to be unfounded. On Tuesday morning, after 24 hours to think it through, I reached the conclusion that I was overtired and suffered an anxiety attack on the Monday, a reaction to the workload and events of the last few weeks. Mondayitis by another name.
Since Lib fell and broke her wrist I've had an busy time at work. Added to that I've attended a carreer expo one Tuesday night with Gordon in Holmesglen (his TAFE course finishes this year and we have to find something) and then taken Lyle to Berwick the next day for xrays. The next week was Lib's appointment with the surgeon at the Dandy Hospital which ended up a three hour wait in outpatients. The heat had hit the temperature reaching the the mid thirties Celsius with a fierce north wind and I learned that Melbourne Water had put a ban on diverting water out of our little stream into the dam at the farm. This was brought in in early September, because of unprecedented low flows in all streams and creeks in the Woori Yallock creek catchment. So we pay for a water diverting licence but cannot use the water, not to mention the cost of capital in our pump and equipment. On top of all that policians and the media have discovered the drought and have hammered it relentlessly lately. So with one weekend busy working pruning and burning off at home, and the next travelling to visit Lib's mum in Wangaratta ( who is 87, in constant pain despite slow release morphine, with an osteoporosis related bad back, and who only just moves around with the aid of a walking frame), and attend a 50th party, I was exhausted. I need a rest.
The good news is that Robbie had his last day of secondary school yesterday. He now has a couple of weeks swotvac before year 12 exams. I will get a break from performing the morning taxi service.
More good news - our resident Eastern whipbird pair have had a baby and the female and the young'n have been easily seen this last week flitting about the woodshed and the stachyurus and prostratheras. Nature at its best. I'm so glad I didn't scare them off with my pruning. This morning also I saw baby grey strike thrushes playing in the poplars at the end of Quinn Rd. Fanstastic!
I think I have regained my equilibrium after a shaky week.
