No More Bad News, Thank You.

My week of bad news is over. It has now been exactly a week since it started with the first in the chain of break-up texts [not MY idea - the texting bit, anyhow].

Since then I have had a chain of unexpected bad news. It has, at times, reached comical heights. The fellow I had lined up as a very convenient rebound-guy suddenly had a family crisis and had to leave town, with an unambiguous 'See ya'. When even your rebound guy falls through you know it's not going your way.

And then, when trying to retrieve $350 from a flatmate who's moved out I get a text that begins 'Get f***ed...'. That seemed to fit the tone of the week.

All I could say was, 'Oh well - it's nothing too bad. Nobody's died or anything......'

UNTIL....

10.15pm last night, the phone rings at Dad's house (where I'm staying). It's my mum's mum ringing in a rather desperate sounding voice to say her husband's been rushed to hospital. She rang back at 7am today to say he'd passed away suddenly.

I didn't particularly like the guy, bit of a grumpy old bugger. But he had taken me to his family farm and sat me up on the top of a race-horse as a wee lass. And he sent us pictures of his truck, which we thought looked like Optimus Prime.

And my grandma will be beside herself. She was fairly lonely and terminally grief striken over various things even before this. So we'll be sending a family posse down to bowels of Westport for the funeral, and possibly to help her sort out what she wants to do now. I think a move to the North Island where the sparse remnants of her living family are scattered might be a good first step.

* * *

So, the week is now over. There will be no more bad news. Anything of that nature can wait til January.

* * *

I had a nice family christmas in Levin with my Dad's wife's clan. 16 of us there. Little bubbies! Pavlova, ham, bubbly. Songs on the guitar around the new brazier.

I had proudly driven from Wellington to Levin for the first time, again all by myself. I even passed some cars on the motorway for the first time ever. I said to my dad when I walked in, 'I managed to not kill myself!' and he said, 'Jolly good - you seem to be doing that a lot lately.'

There's certainly something calming about sitting with a big chubby baby in your lap who's playing with your fingers and kicking their little feet. Good old Ruby-Roo and Pree-pree. I love how they have their favourite stuffed toys too - Ruby has Leppy (see bottom corner of bottom photo) and Kapree has the Pink Lady (Ma-whero Wahine).