Hours in a Day . . .

Five. Four. Less than the number of fingers on one hand. The fingers that are ticking off the things that have yet-to-be-done in any given hour of each day.

Absolute insanity to think we could accomplish all that we set out to do in just 3 short months. There are too many details to think of and I know we'll arrive in Hobart and discover some major issue/item/legal document has been forgotten. That's Murphy's law. Or maybe just the 'law of the move'.

We are so very fortunate to have the good friends we do. Friends who feed us, ply us with drink, look after our kids, house our 'treasures'. These people are the threads that weave together and bind us to this country, this city, this community. People say "Maybe you'll love it so much you'll never want to come back". Anything is possible.

But that one's not likely.

Musings of the Sleep-Deprived

Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. As quick as it is to read those words, the days have flown just as quickly. We are going flat out to complete all the tasks on our respective lists but instead of getting smaller, my list just keeps getting bigger!

So I flew off to Toronto to visit a friend I've known since kindergarten. We had 30 quality hours together before I headed back home this morning. Seems a bit selfish and irresponsible of me in the midst of everything, but it felt more like a much-needed coffee break from the chaos that has become our lives.

I like to think I'm learning to 'live life while I still can'. We never know what lies around the next corner, or just over the next hill. All we know is what's in front of us right now. And if we're always wondering about what lies ahead, we may trip over (or worse, stepover and miss) what is right before us.

Like the opportunity to spend 30 hours laughing, eating and drinking with someone who once coveted my purple-striped bell bottoms and remembers what my natural hair colour is (even if I don't!)

These are the moments we need to grab more of and yet we find excuses why we can't until fate or a long-distance move makes us realize that life is precious and short. Friends, really good friends, are never far from our thoughts. And though time and sometimes distance, great distance, provide convenient excuses for our absenteeism, all that really matters is that in the end we live with no regrets.

Countdown Begins

Ten. This is a good number to start with. Don't all the most important countdowns begin with this number? Rocket launches, bungee jumps, New Year's Eve, you know, all the really big things.


Like moving your family to the other side of the planet.


One of Martin's former co-workers said to him "Man, you must be brave or crazy".


How about some of both. I'm brave he's crazy. Although most days I think I must be half crazy to be feeling so calm about all this. He says to me tonight "I'm so stressed right now I can only imagine how stressed you must be". Strangely, I'm not doing half bad. So that's it; half crazy and half bad.


What does that really mean????


Yesterday Patrick said "I can't wait to get on that plane"! I'm sure he'll feel different after 15 hours in the air.


And so it begins . . . countdown to take-off. Or should that be lift-off . . . as in reaching for the stars??