Father’s Day, weekend redux

Had an odd Saturday, on the one hand – excellent as I got to meet one of my favourite humans; on the other sh!t-house because of a poorly managed night out that left me in the middle of a room on my own staving off anxiety. C’est la vie.

On Friday night Osher Gunsberg shared on Instagram he was whizzing into the Melbourne Writer’s Festival, and was doing a signing in the Atrium at 12:30pm on Saturday. I told Hubs I wanted to head into the city to get my book (re) signed, as I’d brought a signed copy from Booktopia.

We headed into the city to watch Archie play hockey, his last session of the season, which means no more running by the Yarra for me on a Saturday for a few months. But I  spent a half an hour there doing the VA thing, supporting a project I’m passionate about. We drove into the CBD proper from South Yarra; driving past Melbourne Football Club training in a park, watched by fans from the sidelines. No extra security in sight, you can’t imagine any club in the Premiere League doing that.

We parked up, and went to get coffees from one of the coffee shops in the Atrium. I ordered a croissant for the boys to share, and a pear and almond friend for me. Both came out cold, which we weren’t expecting (#brrrr), but they were tasty. The boys headed off into the city to a model shop, I sat on a chair and started to read Osher’s book. I’d been saving it since I knew I’d inhale it, and I must say it’s been a PITA having to go to work and do stuff.

Then suddenly there he was. I’ve got an odd relationship with him, he’s a major party of my life, even if he has no idea who I am. I’ve been listening to his podcast since he was still living in the USA, so we worked it out that was five years. I think I was also the only person in the queue who doesn’t watch the Bachelor(ette), if anyone tries to get anything other than sport or cartoons on our TV at home – good luck.

Osher was as sweet and as gracious as he is to his guests on the podcast; he came round the other side of the table to meet us, when I got my phone out to take a photo, whoever was with him (his manager Lauren maybe?), offered to take a picture. For a nanosecond, I hesitated, then put my arms right round him and leant my head against his. We talked some more, he signed more in my book and after saying ‘Give my love to the girls’, I kissed him and left so other people could get a chance to spend some time with him.

I would so love to talk to him for hours though. It’s not like my schwarm for Tom Hardy or George Clooney; it’s more like how I feel about Stephen Fry, Oprah, Cmdr Hadfield, Brené Brown or Mel Robbins.


In the evening, I’d been invited to an 80s night at the RSL with some of the school mums. I brought my ticket from someone I’d never met and arranged to meet people in the foyer at 7:30pm. I arrived to find no-one waiting, and when I posted in the event on Facebook, I then found out that two separate dinners had been organised without anyone asking if I wanted to join either of them.


One school mum rescued me, introduced me to a friend of hers who arrived shortly after me and went back to finish her meal. We made small talk, two more people arrived that this lady knew, but I don’t follow the VFL so a lot of the conversation I watched. We went upstairs, I stood there while we tried to work out where to sit or stand, as there was nowhere free.

Texting my running buddy that as it was Father’s Day, I wouldn’t be able to meet with her as we normally do on Sunday mornings; having said that I then messaged ‘I’m not sure how long I’ll be out for. I’m standing here like a lemon with no one talking to me‘ As I typed it, my anxiety bubbled up and within three minutes over the text conversation, I was out the door and heading back to my car.

I wouldn’t mind, but I’d been updating Instagram stories with my exploits as I was so excited about going out with new people. Sigh. Bless her heart, she checked in on me first thing in the morning to make sure I was ok.

I was ok once I got home and talked it through with Hubs. We sat up in bed and read together like the old married couple that we are; I’m currently on American Wife, which is frickin amazing.

Sunday morning we were up and at ’em, outside of bacon and eggs and on the road to Werribee Zoo, we got there early, arriving in time to hop on the first bus heading off on the safari at 9:50. Archie wanted to show Hubs around as Hubs had never been there before. We got up close to the animals, walked round the African part, had a coffee and were out the door in two hours flat. Perfect timing as it was getting busy as we left, we had parts of the zoo to ourselves, talking the whole way round. We saw so many birds too it was wonderful. From Superb Fairy Wrens, to honeyeaters, eagles, kites and little Red-browed finches who look like they’re wearing superhero masks.

I also have perfected poached eggs, I think I’d done them once or twice before this weekend, but Archie and I did some serious YouTube research, cracking the eggs into a tea cup is the way to go folks. It’s amazing how you can learn stuff online so easily now.

Bring out your dead (again)

Hubs and I had a new experience today, we both went to the GP together. He’s been off sick with a chest infection since Tuesday last week and was not getting any better. I had to go back for some blood and a CT scan results. I’d booked my appointment late last week after I called the surgery for my results; but when Hubs was still in bed after Peanut and I got back after being out for six hours, I hopped online and made him an appointment at the same time. Best laid plans, he was in and out on-time, I was over half an hour late going in.

This was after waking up late too. Talk about a Monday :)

Hubs first, he’s had a chest x-ray today, and changed antibiotics. He’s also been signed off until Wednesday this week, back to work on Thursday morning. Officially the longest time he’s had off sick since I’ve known him. Proper man flu.

Me, I’ve got no structural issues thank goodness, however when I got my bloods done my white blood cell count was raised and then CT scan (which was the following week) also showed inflammation and congestion. My ears are also crackling, so I’ve still got sinusitis.

Peanut, thankfully is cruising along, no coughs or sniffles, which considering the amount of infections going around this winter is amazing. I’m aware that I’ve just hexed us now.

In other news, in no particular order:

  • I had an RDO on Friday, took myself off for a float, which was blissful. Then to the Richmond IKEA which was less so, aside from the bunfight it is to get in, the café was really short staffed, only one coffee machine was working and it was chaotic as a result. I should have driven down to the Springvale one, but thought that was crazy as I was already half-way into the city. After getting stuck on Hoddle Street (new and improved and widened, natch) I might as well have…
  • We had our Mothers’ Group ‘we have turned seven’ party yesterday (Sunday). All but one family were there, which was amazing. Instead of presents, we all chipped in for a trip to a massive play centre, and a good time was had by all.
  • I’m back to bullet journaling.
  • Peanut gravely told me that he doesn’t want Ickle Baby Bot bath bombs from Lush any more, he’s too old for them now. We brought Big Blue, Yellow Submarine and an orange one I can’t remember the name of. instead. He walked round the whole store, sniffing and investigating everything.
  • With Hubs in bed, Peanut and I have been to the cinema, zoo, the party and round the shops to give Hubs the time and space to sleep. Like most seven year old boys, if he’s cooped up for too long he gets cranky. It’s been a busy weekend, but we’ve had the best time. I love hanging out with him. We did 5.75km round the zoo, chatting away. He leant over to me in the movie (Incredibles 2) and said ‘I think we ought to get an ice cream Mama’ I agreed with him so we snuck out, snuck back in again and I wiped his face afterwards crying with laughter.

I am going to blog more often, I’ve missed you guys!

Lifetime ambitions of equality

It’s funny, you make these sweeping statements about what you want to do with your life. Most of the time, they will come to nothing, but sometimes you get to check said sweeping statements off the list:

  1. Watch Dame Judi Dench in an RSC Shakespeare play. Check, and in my favourite play, All’s Well That Ends Well to boot.
  2. Watch Nathan Lane in a musical. Check, opening week of The Producers in London.
  3. Watch Lance Armstrong in a professional bike race. Check, this year in Adelaide on the Tour Down Under.
  4. Watch Sir Ian McKellen in a play. Check, last night we saw the opening night of Waiting For Godot. Somehow, we’d managed to get front row seats. We then waited patiently in the cold for him to come out.
  5. Tell Sir Ian McKellen how wonderful he is. Check.

The beard is for the play by the way. I am wrapped up in my pashmina as it was chilly, and dithering with excitement. He was sweet, kind and lovely to all the people who waited for his autograph afterwards. The boy in the right hand side of his picture was doing well until his mum said to Mr McKellen, ‘We’ve watched all the Harry Potter films’. He said, ‘I’m not in Harry Potter!’ I will laugh about that for a long time, the indignation in his voice sounded like he obviously gets that a lot.

I don’t think I will ever run a marathon. I don’t think I will ever learn Russian. But last night, I met someone who has contributed greatly to the world we live in. Co-founding Stonewall, Mr McKellen is a staunch supporter of gay and lesbian rights, simply believing that we are all equal, and should be treated as such. Sadly, Propisition 8 shows that we have a long way to go on that score, the hideous legislation that was recently passed in Arizona, and that Australia consistently tops “One of the most racist countries” lists, highlights that scare-mongering and fear are rife still.

On this Mother’s Day, I hope that one thing we can all pass on, up, forward and sideways is that we are members of the Human Family.

Do unto others as you would do unto you.

It is amazing to me how many ‘Christians’ gloss over that simple phrase in the bible. God is inclusive, not exclusive. God is love. God is not hatred, or victimising others because their path to Him is different to yours. I was brought up a Methodist, but lost that faith when I couldn’t reconcile in my mind how the Church elders would treat other people outside the Church. I now make my own way in the spiritual world, but everyone walks beside me.

Actors and celebrities get a lot of stick for standing up for the wrong things, but every so often, you’ll get one or two who do the right thing. Being able to watch someone in their 70s who is still in demand and as busy as ever, at the top of their game, in a play that revolutionised the world of theatre, was one thing. But to be able to thank him for Stonewall?  That was the true lifetime’s amibition fulfilled.

Technology fail

I am truly sorry I haven’t been updating you. My lap top fell off the Internet last week, so my access to the www is limited to squinting at my iPhone and hopping on at work and feeling guilty for hopping on a work.
I will hopefully be sorted out over the weekend or early next week.

Long Weekend

Today is ANZAC day, so the TV is on and we’re watching the Melbourne march.  Veterans, returned service men, families who’ve lost loved ones, all congregate in groups through Melbourne’s city centre in a carefully thought out plan, they then wind their way up along St Kilda Road to the War Memorial in date order of battles.  They are cheered and applauded all the way by people lining the route.  The vets that can’t walk the whole way are proudly ferried along in open top cars and even on flat-bed lorries.  Banners are made, children walk carrying photos of their relatives that have now passed while others hold their grandparents hands.  Marching bands play them along, including school bands, people take picnics (it’s a long day), wave flags and wave and cheer when they see people they know, some even dart out and kiss and hug relatives as they march past.  Then the city shuts down to watch the traditional Essendon v Collingwood AFL match. 

This year we have Monday off as a public holiday as ANZAC day has fallen on a Sunday, offices will be shut, shops open for reduced hours and the whole of Australia remembers their fallen in wars from the Boer through to Afghanistan.  (I interrupt as a Monk has just walked along the TV with medals on his robe, pause for mind-bogglement).

Yesterday we went to the Queen Victoria Markets where they were doing a roaring trade in sprigs of rosemary for remembrance, this year the commentators have said that people have been asked dress up, they don’t want people marching in jeans and t-shirts.  For me it drives me crazy when you get teenagers shuffling along (don’t people get taught to walk properly by lifting their feet up any more), some on mobile phones, baseball caps on ‘just so’ and jeans halfway down their arse.  Yes this is how some were marching last year, and infuriates me for a couple of reasons:

  1. It is disrespectful to the veterans and returned servicemen who have pressed their suits and shined their medals;
  2. It is disrespectful to the families that are their supporting their loved ones that have also pressed their suits and shined their relatives’ medals;

I wish those who organise it specify a dress code, and while you probably can’t stop people from marching, I wish they would haul the kids that are sullen, pouting and wearing totally inappropriate things out the parade, cover them in shrouds then shove them back in again.  We’ve seen several with baseball caps on, hoodies, t-shirts and so on.  This may just be something you have been asked to do by your parents, but there are reasons why this march is repeated all over Australia today.  We owe them so much.  If you can’t respect what they have given up, what they have lost, the courage they have shown, just by wearing smart clothes.  Don’t march.

It is hard to watch sometimes, we’ve been told that 5 veterans have already been taken to hospital as they are poorly, some of the men walking along are in their 80s, even 90s, one signed up in 1934 and saw active duty in the Second World War.  Some you know will be marching for the last time, but they are damn well going to march to honour their comrades.

I am grateful for the long weekend, not because it is a day off.  But because we need to remember those who have fallen, every year their numbers get fewer and fewer, it is up to us to honour and remember them. 

Last night we went to the MCG for the Brisbane Lions v Melbourne FC match.  Matt and Lachy came with us, both Lions fans.  Dan had organised passes for the Long Room and we went into the carvery for dinner.  We’d planned to leave our house at 5:00, so we could have a nice long leisurely dinner.  In the end we left at nearly 6:00, got stuck in traffic and while we had nice food, our table was nearly cleared by mistake as we squashed time wise right up to the first bounce.  Lachy then Matt left the table to watch the first quarter, leaving Dan and I finishing off the bottle of wine.  So not quite the relaxed evening we’d planned, although this had been predicted.

Our housemate Andrew, and his girlfriend Tam who’s down from Canberra, did The Centurion last night.  100 shots of beer, in 100 minutes, or about 13 stubby bottles in just over an hour.  As to be predicted also, they are now in bed with raging hangovers.  While I am as guilty as the next person for playing drinking games, chase the ace, the name game and so on, this one smacks of sheer stupidity; and one I am glad I’ve not done, watched or cleared up after.  After the march, we will be doing housework, Dan and I will tiptoe around for so long, but we’ve got things we need to do today, hangovers in the house or no.

Lazy days and Sundays

Apologies for the lack of updates this week, I wanted to let y’all know how I was doing at my new role, but the past few days have been busy so I didn’t get a chance to.  Not good enough, and I apologise.

Wednesday was a good day, information overload as to be expected, Catherine the lady who has been temping there part-time is lovely and showing me the ropes.  The biggest hurdle was taking minutes for a committee meeting, an hour and a half after I started the job.  I took copious notes as I had no idea what they were talking about, but when I’d typed them up over the afternoon and Thursday and sent them off to be approved, I was complimented on what I had delivered – hurrah!

Thursday was another busy day, I drove a different route in as I needed to check the post box (empty, so waste of time), and drove past the gym I’d stopped going to as it was miles out of my way from where we now live!  In between tidying and cleaning my desk, (the cleaners evidently have a loose idea of the definition of clean, and not one that matches mine), taking notes and nodding ‘yes’ a lot, the day again, passed quickly.  On the way home, I had to go to the supermarkdo, by the time I’d done shopping, unpacked it and we’d cooked dinner, it was nearly time to pack a lunch, lay some clothes out and go to bed.

Friday, again busy, we didn’t cover as much as we’d planned as work got in the way of handover, but we’ve kicked a lot of goals.  I whizzed home, had a bird bath, reapplied some make-up and we whizzed into the city to meet Andrew’s parents who are over from NZ.  We had a great evening, despite me having verbal diarrhea in the car as I was so excited about life.

Lachy came over with Hurricane Piper and Cyclone Oakley, Ney is on nights at the moment, to let her get some sleep they were taken out the house, they’d been to the park and fed the ducks by the time they got to us.  Piper peered at the fish tank and announced that Jess (her fish) and Bullseye (Oakley’s fish) we still at the hospital.  Guilty looks by Aunt and Uncle who have flushed Bullseye 1 & 2, and several orange comets that should have passed for Jess down the porcelain express.  The three that we have left seem to be fairly sturdy, and piggy, they barge each other out the way to get to the food, and stare out the tank at us hopefully if one of us walks past.  They also like watching sport on TV, which is just as well as The Masters is on, followed by AFL, followed by whatever else is on at the moment.

We went back into the city late on Saturday to watch Carlton v Essendon at the MCG, which was preceded by a cricket presentation, free bar and canapes for a couple of hours.  I proceeded to get squiffy on champagne, and became Sir-Text-A-Lot, the game passed in a blur, Dan ended up having to buy me a coffee to sober me up a little, but we had a good time. 

Today we’ve pottered about the house, Dan has put his shorts away, summer is officially over – we’ve had the heating on today!  It has been windy and rainy for most of the day, so washing is draped over any available surface, I will start ironing when I’ve finished this.  I’ve been burning some new CDs for the car, we’ve rearranged the study as we’re going to take ownership of Ross & Leonie’s single bed and Dan has caught up on some filing.  (Which was so old, it’s nearly all been filed in file 13!)  His cold is still hanging round him, I am still snuffly too, although my throat is better, and the pair of us would quite like whatever we’ve got to either appear with a vengence so we can get over it, or clear off altogether.

Matt is coming over for dinner tonight, so I’ve cooked a chicken, we’ve been to The Glen to collect the post, interesting National Geographic on water this month, I’ve flicked through the papers and am now going to have a quick sandwich for lunch.

Consider yourself updated!

“Enlightenment means accepting what is”

This quote greets me daily as it is on a bookmark I collected when Dan and I went to see Eckhart Tolle speak last year at the Melbourne Convention Centre.  I stuck the bookmark immediately underneath my vision board, and as I sleep curled up in a ball on my right hand side, the pictures and wise words I’ve chosen to help me are the first thing I see when I get up in the morning, stuck at pillow height right by the bed.

For me the biggest shift in my life has been accepting that there are things I cannot change.  However, there are also things that I don’t need to tolerate.  So while I have accepted them, I have also moved on, knowing that despite my best intentions, I can’t do anything about them.  

De-cluttering and letting go isn’t just about ‘stuff’, it’s also about psychological baggage.  While my past life is there, ready for me to access straight away in terms of memories, because I all I have to do is think about things and I am right back there.  If I chose to not think about them, they have no power over me.  Learning to live in the here and now is hard, there is always the voice telling you that you failed before, you won’t succeed because of x or y, why do you want to do it that way for?  And so on.

If all you have is now, why waste it thinking about something that has happened that you have no control over?  Why project yourself into the next meeting you have in your diary, when you are supposed to be concentrating on this one?  Why worry about something that has happened, or something that hasn’t yet happened.  All you will miss out on is the here and now, when you actually have control over what can happen, because you are fully in the moment you are in?

Easier said than done, as it does take a conscious effort to stay here.  My mind is running ahead of me as I am typing, I am thinking with part of my brain about what I want to tell you.  I was re-reading some of my writing exercises that I used to scribble out when I was commuting back and forth to London.  I found one about a ‘Life in the day of…’, talking about the difference between having a shower and having a shower.  You know, where you step out of it feeling like a whole new person, instead of just doing the washing thing?  It is because when you concentrate on washing your hair, and what the water feels like on your skin, you are in the moment, you are in the shower.  If you are thinking about what emails will be waiting for you when you open your computer at work, you’re not concentrating on where you are.  You’re already playing catch-up projecting forward the day, before you’re even in it.  Before you’ve even registered you are standing under running water, you’re out of it and you’ve missed it.  Which considering how many people in this world don’t have access to showers, is pretty selfish.  So next time you are there, make the most of it!

Didah my counsellor told me that if I did start to worry about things again, I was to write everything down, taking no more than 20 minutes to get everything onto paper.  The chances are, I wouldn’t get to 20 minutes, and it would only be one thing, but forcing yourself to actually think about what is worrying and niggling at you, gets it out your system.  Not that I have had any cause to do that lately, I seem to have stopped worrying about things.  I’m letting the road rise up to meet me as I walk along it.  So far, I’m doing pretty well.  The past 3 weeks have been a revelation, my mind is clear, my heart is clear, I am excited about my life.

I find time to meditate every day, I am trying to get to Bikram Yoga every day, although starting a new job next week may mean shuffling around what class I go to.  I am not beating myself up about what has happened in the past, I can’t predict the future, I can plan for it, but as all the plans we made over Christmas are now on hold, so you also need to learn to be flexible.  And accept that what life gives you is enough.  You are enough.  You don’t need any more.  All you need is within you.

Embracing my foibles

For some reason, this weekend seems to have lasted longer than normal.  I am not sure why; I still finished work on Friday, will go back on Monday – but today, Sunday, seems to be ages away from Friday night.  Maybe it’s because we went into the city on Saturday?  Who knows.

This weekend was also Earth Hour, where we’re asked to turn our lights out for just an hour to remind ourselves that electricity is not a finite resource, and that we need to be aware of our usage.  I am forever going around and turning lights and switches off anyway, we only have coal-fired power stations in Australia, so every watt we use is produced by burning coal.  I can get apoplectic at Christmas with people draping lights all over their houses.  DG and I even turned the light out on the fish tank as we sat and watched Iron Chef by candlelight.  The theme ingredient was shark fin, which was revolting.  Talking about a finite resource, extinct is forever and the way the Chinese and Japanese are going, pillaging the oceans to satisfy their taste buds we are going to lose a whole host of fish species in the next few years. 

 Anyhoo, regular readers will notice I have changed my theme again.  I am sorry to do this to you, while I loved the green yoga girl, I wanted to add more pages onto here, and she wasn’t very co-operative, so have found this one instead.  The photo at the top is of Byron Bay, I stood there in January 2007, crying at how far I had come, both mileage and emotionally.  For a long time it was my desktop on my computer, while I now have a nice picture of Ewan McGregor, I never get tired of looking at the picture.  A little version of it is also on my vision board.  So I do look at it repeatedly throughout the day.

I’ve written frankly on here about my recent struggle with clinical depression, and being pretty much on my own company for a while, one of things I’ve learnt about myself over the past couple of weeks is I have some pretty bizarre quirks, but then I think we all do.  Here are some I am willing to share, let me know if you have any you want to share too!

  • While I am more comfortable flat on my back (or front), I can only fall asleep on my side.  With both ears covered up;
  • I make 2 cups of tea at a time, which everyone still finds hilarious at work;
  • I always put my left contact lens in first;
  • My books and DVDs have to be stored alphabetically.  One Aussie magazine article said group books by colour, they look nicer, be that as it may, I like being able to find things!
  • I struggle to walk past a stationery shop without buying something.  A new pad, a new pen, something;
  • If you want to annoy me, send me a badly written email, or text using words like ‘l8r’ in;
  • Don’t do my ironing.  Ever.  I will only wash it and re-do it.  Even if you think you are being helpful, I will sit there twitching in pain, as you won’t get it how I like it.
  • If you have sideburns, make sure they are of equal length, otherwise I will stare at you while sitting on my hands, trying not to pluck out the longer side;

I could probably go on and on, but then you would think I was downright weird, so I will leave it for now.  Have a good week, I am hoping the next couple of weeks will bring glad tidings and resolution.  I’ll keep y’all updated…

Making the most of it

I’ve come into the city to celebrate my last day off before I go back to work on Monday. Autumn is in the air, despite the temperatures due to get to 28c on Sunday. There was a heavy dew this morning, my breath was visible and I wore a scarf. Now it is warming up, I am wondering why I didn’t shiver for a few minutes, instead of me having to carry it around for the rest of the day?
The world is my lobster, I may go to the galleries, I may have lunch by the river, I may do whatever I want. I’ve already had my traditional Starbucks and raised a toast to Wiz.
At the moment, I am people watching over a coffee. I have a good book, I have my health (mostly), we have the house to our selves for the weekend, we’ve plans on Saturday and Sunday. Life is good.

Stormy weather

At last the muggy spell has broken.  I sit in my study with rain hammering on the windows, after watching hailstones the size of golf balls hurtle down from the sky.  I should have been walking to yoga, I would have got soaked, and probably collate a few more bruises had any hailstone hit me.  As it was they smashed into the house, onto the roof and bounced off the windows.

I was walking as DG took the car to play cricket, now rained off, but I felt like walking.  The rain was predicted, but it doesn’t bother me walking in the rain, I am in English – you spend most of your life damp.  I packed up my bag, swung it over my shoulder and plugged Eckhart Tolle in to talk me to the studio.  I was wearing sunglasses, then realised I couldn’t see where I was walking, I took them off, it was nearly dark.  I looked at the weather front moving in, turned around and went back home.  I dropped my bag off, grabbed the bread that we had been saving for the ducks and walked down to the pond instead to feed the ducks and birds.

The ducks were happy to see me, very happy.  Some days they are fed full to bursting and won’t come near you, this afternoon when I stopped by the bank, they zoomed over the pond, bumping each other out the way to get to me.  One brave female mallard stood by my trainers, catching the crumbs as I broke the bread up for the others.

Feeding ducks is such a simple thing to do, but when you are truly there, not listening to the voice in your head, but truly present – it brought me such joy.  I couldn’t believe how close they got to me when I was feeding them, I was crouched down and rummaging around in a collection of bread bags, yet they knew I had food and so were so trusting.  I looked at their feathers, the rainbow of colours that go to make up brown and black, the smoothness and sleek bodies that are so graceful on the water.  They were so patient too, yes they were squabbling over the bread when it was thrown in, but they knew I had to break it up and throw it out to them.  Even the sparrows got in on the crumbs, looking at me with heads on one side saying ‘Come on!’ 

On my walk around the football fields this Wednesday I kept walking past 4 magpies, it is disconcerting when they make eye contact with you.  I am sure they wondered what I was doing, circling round in loops, they were watching the grounds man roll and prepare the pitch, no doubt waiting for him to get out the way so they could get in there for worms.  But quite happily sitting on a fence, watching and waiting for the right moment to get what they needed. 

I keep thinking about what I need at the moment, I thought I knew, but the deeper I look the more I see that things are changing.  I hope that with the break in the weather I sleep better tonight, as the next two days are days of preparation.  I have to collate paperwork ready for a meeting on Tuesday morning, I need to be ready, I need to be strong.  I also need the storm of words and emotions in my head to clear.  So I will be offline and ignoring my phone, regrouping as I go into battle.  Because that is what is has become.