Poppet, laughing with her Aunty on a boat on a canal in Amsterdam.
Sprocket, in a favourite pub in London, a double decker bus passing.
Poppet. My Joy. Somewhere in Europe.
We're home now, having journeyed from Paris to Brisbane in the space of forty-eight hours, in my in-laws place in Queensland, where we'll be until we find or build our own place. Sick. Jetlagged. So completely bone weary it doesn't bear thinking about.
The kids are pulling the house apart. We got home at 11pm last night and by 7am this morning Sprocket hadn't managed to sleep for more than an hour but had found four cane toads (that I know of) and dozens of skinks. One of which lost it's tail in the living room. There was also talk of a brown snake sighting but when we traipsed out after him to the stand of bananas he claimed to have made the sighting I became a little suspicious.
"How many snakes were there, Sprocket?"
"Forty! Forty king brown snakes and forty taipans." Wordless return (coughing) to the house.
"It was real. Really really real." A-ha.
Joining with for Jodie for a portrait of my little ones once a week, every week, in 2015.