Thursday, 20 March 2014

Hey Ducky!



 
I am one big duck right now.
 
Beneath this smooth exterior (created by neatly plastering over the cracks), I am paddling like hell.
 
Wedding is in EIGHT WEEKS.
 
We are still having catering dramas that may make me throw my hands in the air and order twenty gigantic pizzas on the day because that's as much patience as I have left. And I better find some picnic rugs because I have yet to find time to go and visit the hire place for some actual chairs and stuff. 
 
I miss my cousin. I want to talk to her. I want her frustrating ability to piss me off when I ask a simple question and get one hundred ridiculous answers in reply. I want my phone to beep until I scream. Because it would mean she was still here. Shit. 
 
The house that dust built is slowly being brought into line but I fear we are creating more mess in the process of taming it, and I want it to be done already. The roses are driving me nuts because we are a high frost area and I have to wait until it is almost bloody Spring before it's safe to prune the poor bedraggled darlings.
 
On a happier note - a lot of plants that I vaguely recognised have been popping up all over the garden and my friend tells me they are violets and I stinking LOVE violets. So much that I want to give my garden a big squishy hug. Can you hug a garden? I think I will try. Although maybe out the back or behind the hedge where passing motorists can't see me.
 
The only reason I've managed to sit still long enough to write a blog post is that I am chained to my desk in my office catching up on Paperwork Mountain, and I needed to not be looking at bills for five minutes.
 
I haven't run since the Great Fall of Natalie on the main road. Not because I haven't wanted to, but because I seem to be stuck in a land where my gentleman friend only pops in occasionally and doesn't seem to live here even though I'm sure he does. Obviously we hit autumn and everyone wants to build a hundred roads and he has to take them all their rocks in a big hurry. Smushed up rocks to be technical. But all the same it would be nice if I saw him for five minutes where I wasn't still waking up over my bowl of coffee, or putting myself to bed. Or when he was snoring and I have insomnia. I'm over that.
 
It's all fine though. I'm calm, see? Just don't look at my legs. They are paddling like hell.