On Monday last, my pet died. His name was William Butler Yeats the guinea pig and he was seven years of age. His teeth got too big for his mouth, and the vet told me he wouldn’t survive the surgery to fix them. 760 more words
The first part of this saga was actually Day 2 of back-to-back madcap improbability, dealing with the good and the bad of my job as a paratransit driver whisking veterans all over this half of the state and beyond. 1,636 more words
My oh my, we’ve done it. We have moved. We are now entrenched in the beautiful Bega Valley.
We have had no time to explore, no time to blog and no time to do much except unpack boxes, start a new school and get other half away to new job. 382 more words