Sapphire's at her friend's 10th birthday sleepover party and Love Chunks left a few hours ago for Melbourne leaving me as the only human being at home for the second time since Sapphire entered this world purply-blue, too exhausted to cry and with a slight red mark across her face due to the doctor's rather rough and ready use of the forceps.
It's a lovely summer night here in South Australia. Calm, quiet, warm and the ants - bless their busy little bodies - have finally stopped working and gone to bed.
I figured this out because, as the lone human in the house tonight, I sat outside on our lush green lawn* drinking our leftover Rose and trying to soak in the peaceful atmosphere despite being bitten on the earlobe by a mischievious mosquito. No ants came to attack my glass or my person which is unusual here - normally they're all over the dog's crunchies before I've finished placing her dish on the pavers.
Milly is gnawing away on a lamb bone; the one with the weird circular knob at the end which presumably means it's a thigh that fits into a hip bone. Skipper the rabbit is nibbling at the grass and occasionally standing on his back legs to dramatically sniff the air and the chooks (Hermoine, Luna and Ginny) are gleefully pecking at the fresh handfuls of grapevine leaves I've thrown into their coop.
The Rose tastes especially fruity and sweet this evening and I have another. I lie back, spilling a bit down my front but who cares I'm not out to impress anyone with my table manners, smoking hot body or witty banter this evening, and I look up at the sky. No stars out yet, just a few streaks left from some stray Qantas carriers and some tardy rosellas heading back to the hills, squawking their version of the days' events to each other.
I sit up awkwardly to keep sipping the wine. No house sale yet, just three interested buyers who are either:
a) trying to figure out if they can lose our clothesline, vege beds and chook house and put an in-ground pool in there instead;
b) still grappling with the bank to work out how they can arrange finance between themselves and their grown son who will live here; and
c) nervously awaiting a contract of offer on their own house and for the two days 'cooling off' period to have been and gone before doing anything about ours.
Did I say already how truly excellent, really excellent this stuff is to drink? No? Well it is, believe me, I'll find out the brand and maker and get back to you. Anyhow, as for the house sale, I'll believe it all when I see some names on a goodamn contract and the completion of the stupid cooling off days...... Bugger, my ear is really starting to itch and it's hard to do so with these pesky gold hoops in.
I might jusht go inshide and get another glassh of thish wonderful roshe.....
Oops, dropped the glassh. It'ss out here shomewhere...... Maybe I'll jusht go back inshide and shtart doing that inventory thingy that the removalishts want ush to do. It'sh the perfect time and I feel jusht ssssho alert and organished for shuch a reshponshible tashk......
*Calm down: it's watered by an underground dripper system via the rainwater tanks.
UPDATE - there's an upside to being old, at home alone and a ridiculously cheap drunk - the 'hangover' was over and done with way before my 10:30pm bedtime!