Just when I thought it was safe to talk to people again, I was loosing sight of my deep despair, and my Dad has to have surgery again. “No problem”, says our plucky heroine, “he’ll be right as rain in no time, and it surely won’t be cancer”. I was given flowers by a lovely man, good Aussie “Premium Non Vintage Cuvée” by a lovely woman. I asked my boss if I could work part time (so far so good), Custard bunny seems to be keeping up his weight (if not actually gaining a whole lot), and life in general doesn’t suck as much as it could. I am even making good progress on another Swallowtail Shawl for someone who could possibly read this blog, so I have to be a little ‘neaky.

And now two more crappy things have happened to my nearest and dearest. My great aunt Patsy (George‘s sister, is dying. And Marguerite, my mother’s sister broke her pelvis in a cycling incident. I told her that knitting is a much less risky sport, but she has this thing about keeping fit.

Mag is in surgery now, and I waiting to hear if she is up for visitors tonight.

P.S. I have pictures of the bears face, but they aren’t pretty. I have sent them to the local koala rescue service, along with details about where I saw him, but his eyes were in a pretty sad state – not for the weak of stomach. I will get around to posting holiday pics very soon, there are some wildlife shots that I can show people who have delicate digestion.

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