Since starting this blog, I have ‘met’ some amazing people. People who are struggling with something, people who just have something they need to say, people who are blogging for the greater good, hoping to make the world a better place.

People.

They are amazing, intimate, intricate beings.

When I started this blog, I felt very alone in the world. I thought of the blog as my online diary to get my thoughts out into the open, instead of keeping them tucked up inside.

I think I was about six months in when I discovered this blog, (which I still love) that had a ‘community’ and I wanted that, so I followed links to places I had never heard of and joined up.

Soon I met some Aussie bloggers and my circle started to widen.

Today I recieved a parcel… from my friend XBox. I can’t remember how I stumbled across his blog but it is one of my favourites and I have been reading for almost a year. Inside this parcel was a heartfelt card, so simple but so meaningful and it made me feel so wonderfully good to know that I had a friend.

There have been others too,

Kim sent me some beautiful ceramic pieces to make mobiles with the kids. I had a post ready to go up but the mobiles did not get done in the school holidays because Ivy was unwell.  They are gorgeous, handmade butterflies, hearts, doves and stars. Her note, and how she saw each piece representing one of my children was so touching and I cried when I received it because I felt as though I had someone walking along with me as I travelled.

We can’t forget my gorgeous Lou and the Tootsie Rolls. A day that will go down in history for our family and be remembered always.

Kate and Suze have offered to pimp my blog.

Veronica checks up on us to see how things are going, makes sure we are fairing ok and there are others too, some have been where I am, some just want to let me know they are with me in spirit, new friends and old… all of you.

Amazing.

 Ivy is so very unwell again. She has not recovered well from the last bout of sickness, both she and Noah now  have  croup and we think Thursday’s visit with the paed (yes, Jayne in his lunch hour) will bring with it a hospital admission. He thinks she will not be able to kick this infection without IV antibiotics. He said to pack a bag and we all know what that means.

The croup is just a little viral kick in the teeth, an upping of the evil Prednisone, when all we want to do is reduce it. Noah is certainly enjoying his superkid powers whilst on it.

And of course, we have blisters.

When I went to Uni to study Psychology,(fresh out of school) one of the first things I learnt about was tangentiality. Something I am very good at it seems…

Anyway, back to the point of my post.

Thank you.

Each and every one of you.

You help me through all the terrible days, you make me laugh and cry, you help me to feel human.

My community is not big but to me it means the world.

Take one Mummy, confine her to the laundry.

Get into her ribbon stash (that another chef has neglected to pack away) and pull Every. Single. Ribbon from its roll and call it ‘pasta’.

Take scrapbooking cardboard flowers (hundreds of the little suckers) from the back room, sprinkle a few into the ‘bowl’ you have aquired from the plastics cupboard and the rest (read majority) onto the floor for creative effect(an important part of being a successful chef).

Shred rediscovered tissue paper, from birthdays past, into tiny little pieces and declare them ‘lettuce’. Place a handful into the bowl and the rest can go on the floor.

Mix heartily.

Present to Mummy in the laundry.

For added effect, try to stuff some of the ribbon ‘pasta’ right to the back of her craw, until she gags.

Proceed to sing The Wiggles ‘Fruit Salad’ (yummy, yummy) song at the top of your lungs (to drown out the tears when the Mummy discovers the aftermath) and ask innocently ‘What’s wrong, Mummy?’ when she falls to the floor sobbing.

After pretending to feed the Mummy the concoction for a large part of the morning, proceed to fight over lengths of  ‘pasta’ that you want made into tails, because you are now horses. (Of course it is vitally important that you both have the same piece of ribbon).

In true executive chef style, throw a hissyfit when asked to clean up your ‘creative’ mess.

This is how you make “house salad”.