The Return Of Normality (Or What Passes For Normality)

This has felt like the longest Easter holiday ever and although I enjoy our little days out and the entertainment that the Hobbits bring with them I am so glad Monday is back to school. Trying to get anything done while they are at home is impossible and I have oh so much to do. Such is life when so many people are relying on me.

Hopefully the fug will lift and I can get some kind of organisation going.
I'm still working my way through my father's papers and it stops me, every time I find a memento he has kept. A poem I wrote in Primary 4; a Christmas card I drew in 1980 (says so on the back in his hand writing); little notes he wrote; my Spelling and Dictation jotter from Primary 3; a photograph my mother took of me in very trendy 70s gear (hey I was three, give me a break.) I need to get things done, there are still assurance policies to find, but so far I have had no time to grieve. With each little piece I find, things he has kept neatly folded in amongst his papers, it brings back the feeling that I had things perhaps I should have said and didn't. But what is most important is that we knew how much we meant to each other.

Oh well this is turning morose for a Saturday evening. My life is so exciting, tv and 'puter - woohoo, don't hold me back.