BRONWEN HEALY PHOTOGRAPHY

Welcome to the Blog for Bronwen Healy Photography. The Benchmark in photographic excellence. Full Website: www.bronwenhealy.com.au

31 December 2013

5: Sore Heads...

Last night was a rough night.  When I was finally falling asleep, at close to 5am, I was beginning to hear those special bird sounds that you only hear just before dawn, when I am often getting up to chase a pony through a lens.  Jessica woke me only about 2 hours later, with a spikey fever of 39.5 degrees after that, and her tummy feeling sick.  Thankfully there has been no more vomiting and I've managed to get the fever down again.  Heath got up, saw the bucket with Jessica by the lounge, and asked me with genuine fear in his voice what was wrong with Jessica.  I swiftly reassured my diabetic son, who like me is so frightened of him being laid low with a vomiting attack, that it was just due to the fever and that I was sure the vomiting was viral.  He circled warily, like a suspicious cat, and went and sat at the table instead.

I've just cleaned my bathroom, and emptied everything out of it.  Of course the bath and vanity will need cleaning again, as will the shower.  I'm not feeling like I've made much progress this morning in the end, and I feel myself paddling all of a sudden.  My tummy is sore, and I feel miserable, although I know at this point it's not viral, and I'm tripping over boxes every way I turn.  I checked my bank account through my fingers last night, and groaned when I did the calculations in my head of the removalist truck, etc..  There is a hole in my bucket...  

Incidentally, have a look at the 3rd photo.  It's a little sad and sorry putting this on your car, which is pretty outrageous anyway, and making such a mistake with the spelling.  I hope it makes you smile and laugh, and not scowl.  I have in the past tried to gently point spelling errors out and help them correct it, but sometimes it's misinterpreted as implying you don't think the individual in question is smart enough.  People can be inclined to feel a bit shouty and offended, and deliberately whack my head clean off in retaliation.. As a general rule I would never suggest as person isn't smart just because they can't spell.  A couple of my friends, including VERY close ones, can't spell to save their life.  And I fear my son will be a poor speller, even though he's blazingly smart in his own way, so I'd never necessarily equate spelling with intellect. And I have always done my best to never deliberately hurt or upset people (although I guess speaking bluntly and saying what I think can get me into trouble at times).  Of course there are people you I think are incurably stupid (or insensitive), just because they are..  

Postscript:

The 2 hours sleep catches up with me, and I've begun to feel terribly tired.  I popped down to the Post Office to bank some cheques (so that I can pay for the removalist on Saturday).  They said I looked tired.  I asked worriedly if they thought I looked terrible?  And they said they would never say that, but that I looked distinctly more worn out than I did 2 days ago when I collected the last set of boxes.  Rob gave me some more boxes, including some more larger ones, which was good, because I am down to teeny tiny ones.  I'm tired of shouty messages, and don't want the removalist men to shout at me for too many small boxes.  My back aches, as it gets sorer and sorer.  The linen and towels are packed, aside from the ones we're using, and I'm trying to have things washed by the end of the week so that we start with clean sheets.  Jessica's fever spiked again, back up to almost 39 degrees, and we realised that she'd forgotten to take her Panadol.  That's a relief, because I'd begun wringing my hands in despair, thinking her fever had spiked despite her being at the limit of what I could reasonably give her to relieve her discomfort.  

We are on our own for New Year's Eve.  Just like last year.....  Jessica's sick, and I'm so tired, both physically and emotionally, and I hope I'll be asleep earlier tonight.  I am doing what my friends and family have said.  I'm focusing on tomorrow, being New Year's Day which I hope will be a better year, not New Year's Eve...

Surely this means that 2014 is going to be a better year for me. 
 
This is a classic.  

6: Freelance Departs

I started the morning, as I often do lately, with a cup of tea in my kitchen stool. When I say down my eyes glanced over and immediately spotted the missing item Jessica and I were hunting high and low for last night. Tucked up against my aging oven, and only visible when I was sitting on my little stool.  I am finding myself there too often at the moment. 

I guess I feel like today I achieved a bit, and that's a good thing.  I packed up most of the contents of my tiny and annoying bathroom.  And slipped out to get more boxes.  Evan was going to come and take my bed apart (he made it) on Thursday, but in a change of plans, he came today with Fenella, so that saw me finishing off my room in a hurry.  I only have my dresses to pack now.  I've hardly been going out lately, and recently seem to only wear something pretty at the track.  Magic Millions will be hot, and standard attire seems to be shorts and tshirts, so I doubt I have much call for fancy clothes between now and when we arrive.

It's after midnight, but sleep seems a million miles away. Jessica is running a savage fever.  It appears to be going up, not down, despite the Nurofen before bed, so I've just given her some panadol too.  I hope it will come down a little bit now, and that she can settle.  I'm worried about the health of a couple of people right now.  Suddenly I feel like I've reached the triple of a huge whammy, because I can feel my cheek stinging from what feels like a very hard slap, and I can feel my heart racing in my chest all of a sudden.  I shiver slightly and wonder are all the others right???  Perhaps I really am not a good judge of character.  I wanted to be right..  I really did... 

These are the images of Freelance going 'home' to Wyndarra this afternoon.  Fenella and I got her onto the float without too much drama.  She's such a good girl.

Postscript:

It's 4am.  Jessica has just thrown up.  I'm sure it is the fever, this is how she reacts to them, so I am not panicking, especially after taking her temperature.  She is still feverish, but it's dropped from being close to 40 degrees to 37.5.  I've found sleep impossible since I finally attempted to go to bed at 2am.  I find myself suddenly missing Freelance, even though she's only just left, once I realise that there is no light brown mare to visit this morning. 

I realise that it is already New Year's Eve.  Last year New Year's  Eve wasn't any fun at all.  They apparently say that New Year's Day is far more important, and indicative of how the year will be.  New Year's Day was really nice last year.  I realise that there have been some real triumphs and good parts to 2013, but to be perfectly honest, I cannot wait to say goodbye to 2013 because it's a year that on the whole has made me sad. 

I begin to worry about a virus sweeping through us.  The kids I can manage, but I simply cannot afford to go down myself..

Packing...
 

It's a COMPLETE obstacle course...  And looks a bit disastrous.  I'm getting tired, and my neck and back are sore.
Trying to have the essential left out for the last few days.  I have to finish packing the kitchen tomorrow.
My plant..  Perhaps I should throw it out?  Do I have the heart?
The beautiful bed comes apart.  Sleeping on a mattress on the floor reminds me of grim times..
 

This 'blockey' bit comes out..  It's called a Tenon???  The holey bit it goes into is called a Mortice??  I forget...  Evan didn't like my descriptions
Picking up supplies for dinner.  Freelance waits patiently.
and turns when she hears my voice
Home coming...  Unfortunately none of the horses she grew up with at Wyndarra are alive anymore.
 




My mare...  Like Bridget, she also has a Bottom The Size of Brazil....
Eyes on a stick...  Alpacas are strange and frightening beasts..
 

Told you she's not much of a jumper!
The other horses were too frightening..











Running away from strange horses
"Wait for Me" shouts Pirate
 




Prima Donna...