I've been quiet.
Work started again yesterday.
We smile at work and cry at home.
It wasn't bad being back, but certainly daunting.
Something will be required of me again.
Scary.
I can only take it one day at a time.
Monday took us to Antwerp.
Just the husband and I.
We went to a beautiful Art Deco neighbourhood, Zurenborg.
Beautiful houses.
Espresso at a funky cafe.
Then Lunch at the Groote Witte Arend.
Wine.
Walk through the city.
We sat inside the St Carolus-Borromeus listening to music and thinking about the fragility of life.
A mini-holiday, that's what it felt like.
My dad fell last night, hurt his back and pelvis.
A fall is not a good thing if your bones are brittle.
Luckily he didn't break anything.
Just 3 more days and he can hopefully go home again.
My parents are getting a carer to help.
These are strange times we live in.
Here at home, Son#2 is hysterical.
School is all a bit too much for him - the change, a new class, a new teacher, and then of course the expectations he thinks will be required of him.
Poor bunny.
Son#1 is stoically quiet, happy enough if he can play computer games and not deal with his younger brothers.
Sigh.
Today home, tomorrow my birthday.
Think I might sneak off to the movies on my own.
Just for the hell of it.
A bit of escapism never hurt anybody.
.
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