Carole’s back from Lisbon today. So cue endless tales of trams, stairs, strange thin buildings and custard tarts. And, if it’s anything like Barcelona, a gazillion photographs of which Facebook and Instagram have been treated to the best 200 or so!
It’s a happy day. I’ve missed her a lot. Worried about her a fair bit and marvelled at the fact that she even had a custard tart at all!
But it’s also a sad day.
As I left for work this afternoon, I gave a fond farewell to the calm order that the house is currently enjoying. Everything in its place, neat and tidy and calm.
All the chaos – when I left – contained to the back bedroom. Carole’s sanctuary. Her study hole and place of calm(!) where she reads peacefully and learns things.
But Carole is like a hurricane. She can blow through a room and leave a trail of destruction in her path. And it’s adorable. But also amazing that one woman can do so much in so little time.
I’ll get home and there’ll be two or three glasses or orange juice dotted about. Her unopened post, that I left in a pile, scattered to the winds. But she’ll appear like she’s not moved – just come in, dropped off her bags and slumped on the couch.
She’s a marvel. It’s some sort of super power.
I’m bloody happy she’s home!