Being a grown up.

Mijal threatened to drag me off to the produce markets at Flemington at 7am this morning. Apparently it wasn’t a threat – and she arrived before 7am, and I was still in the shower. Off to the markets (I can heartily recommend the coffee at the Flower Market Cafe), we got loads of veggies (a green bag FULL of fresh herbs for $5 – very happy bunnies!), and 2 bunches of tulips for $4.

After that my parents picked me up for a swim – swam not quite twice as far as last time, but I’m calling it double because they had the wave machine on for part of my swim, and it was hard work.

Now I’m home, and have started to bake some veggies, make a frittata and I have 2 kilos of swiss brown mushrooms to get creative with.

Hmm… I wonder if I can find a recipe for mushroom pate?

And that thing about being grown up ? Well I’ve decided not to let my brother shit me any more. He won’t change, he won’t bend, and he won’t empathise. That is just the way it is, and I have fuck all control over it. What I can control is my reactions to things, and I can be a grown up and take control of the things I do have a hold on.

And my great aunt Patsy (Patricia) died this morning. She had been sick for a long time, and we had been expecting this news for a few weeks. She lived a full life, was the matriach of a big catholic family (grandchildren and great grandchildren up the wazoo), and a much loved sister to my grandfather George.

The picture above is George and his two sisters, Patsy and Maree (Patsy is in the middle) at our wedding in April 2004. He died less than six months after this picture was taken, two years ago today. Patsy followed him two years later, to the day.

I still miss George every day.

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