Lazuli Green Island Mama

Lazuli Green Island Mama

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Chaos on Adventure Island

(Ruby Tuesday Nandos: the chook to back-up Mama's madness)

All is not well in my head this week.

Firstly, it's way too hot to drink tea. That may be the crux of the problem right there, in point #1. It's well over 30 degrees C, has been for at least a week, and doesn't cool down at night. The particular dilution of Scottish blood in my veins does not take kindly to heat and humidity. I was much happier with a delicious 26-27 degrees.

Then there's the chooks. You may remember that we began with 6: Charlotte, Mercedes, Ruby Tuesday Nandos, Chalky, Fumee and Crayon. About 10 days ago, Fumee was eaten by a not-so-friendly, neighbourhood dog. A week later Mercedes and Charlotte went missing. And last night Chalkey joined the awol list. I'm quite confident that the above dog is responsible. He's now seen quite regularly at our back fence, licking his chops and grinning an evil grin. I know this is a terrible state of affairs in the chook yard, but I'm afraid it's taken a back seat this week. It's just kind of adding to the heaviness of my heart.

And thirdly, there's the debacle that went on here last week. My fears became reality when my little Chooch slipped whilst preparing for another jetty-pole jump, falling 3-4 metres onto jetty steps below. I think his head hit first, resulting in a large gash on his forehead - which needed 8 stitches - and a small bruise on his brain. I can't, and don't wish to, begin to describe the anguish of the following 24 hours. Suffice to say, it was a terrible time. Chooch is fine. He IS FINE. He's now home again and running around, jumping, playing, telling stories etc as if nothing has happened. So why can't I behave as if nothing has happened?? (Perhaps because he does still have 8 stitches and a bruise on the brain!)

I'm sure this feeling will fade. To attempt to slow this boy down is as futile as trying to hold back the tide. He's a lively little jumper. Always has been. I sold his change table when he was about 18 months old because he liked to dance on top of it before a big jump down. He was moved out of a cot and into a single bed before he was 2 years old because he would climb to the top of the cot-end, to jump down. At his first swimming lesson, age 3, he dived straight in and immediately began his version of free-style.

So I was really quite silly to think that he might wait a few years before trying those jetty pole jumps. It's just not that easy to accept after such a fall.

Anyway... calm will surely return. A sense that the world is fun and adventurous and all ok... will surely return. In the meantime, I've baked a beetroot chocolate cake (Lenka has taught me this : when in doubt, bake a cake). I have beloved friends from afar coming for dinner, a sleep over and breakfast in the morning (hello Gen, Luke and Harper!). Our fruit and veg have been delivered this morning. There's freshly made yoghurt in the fridge and ice-blocks in the freezer. The water around our island still whispers my name when I'm near it, a zoom across the water still puts a smile on my dial, and I'm about to make granola to share in the morning.

All shall be well
and all shall be well
and all manner of thing shall be well.

Now if only it would cool down enough for a cup o' tea. O tea, come back to me.

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