Why I Love Small Towns
byIt’s simple really.
It’s simple really.
Why on earth are we back in Gympie when we have a bus decked out with beds? Well, I’ll tell you…
We’ve been – I want to say trapped – at Tracey’s parents’ place for months now waiting for Tracey to feel up to travelling and working again. Then Master12’s appendix had to be expelled from his body and that’s slowed us down some more. The good news is the bus is looking and running fantastic, and we’re going to do a walkthrough to show everyone our set up shortly.
“I can’t find her!” she said, the worry in her voice increasing and engaging the interest of mine.
My team won the debate! For anyone who’s interested or conflicted about the idea that art is actually sexier than chocolate, here’s my speech.
I am such a good father I sometimes make the ultimate Daddy sacrifice for my kids. Take today…
“Send me a photo?” I asked my wife on Thursday night. “No,” she said. “You’ll have to use your imagination.”
Floody photos from around my Facebook
One of the things I love about small towns is how everyone knows who you are. It’s not for some people, I know, but I like the sense of belonging. There is a flip side, however: You can’t get away with anything.
“That was fantastic!” Tracey slurred at me as we pulled into our driveway, home from her 20th School Reunion. How fantastic? Let’s just say I’m glad I wore undies…
A photo journal of the January 2013 flood in Gympie. We weren’t the worst hit in Queensland. As usual, the local community spirit, with people helping others, was heartwarming.
Given Miss9’s broken leg we’ve been stuck on Home Detention, but yesterday the kids get out on parole. Briefly.