In Sydney there was plenty of hanging out with Tom's relatives and friends (he's from there), lots of reading, sometimes in lovely spots like Balmoral beach, below (by the way, like the foot I'm growing out of my nose?)
some posing with landmarks
the odd bit of walking (Blue Mountains, below)
and a train ride up to Newcastle.
Then, thank goodness, no more driving or training, a flight home.
Home sweet home, where you could be forgiven for thinking I had chosen a handmade rug in the sophisticated shade of 'dirty clothes', where aphids and caterpillars took advantage of my absence to ravage the cabbages, something else damaged the flowers in the backyard, and where I now have to actually look at a calendar and realise there are some deadlines creeping closer than might be comfortable.
Oi. You were so close. Can't believe you didn't call? You would have passed me on the way to Newcastle. A squizz across the water after pulling out of Woy Woy and there I was - waving madly, running, trying to rein the dog in. Hope you had a fabulous time.
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