2010 was a shocker. As we've written before, for our little family it had threads of grey and black, stress and death. I wondered if we could regain anything of the innocent pleasures with which we have been blessed. No, the scars remain. Yes, there are washes of colour.
In the early months of the year I was nervous, stepping tentatively through the weeks, hoping nothing major would go wrong, but expecting it would. In recent months I have felt surges in my spirit. Little things. Getting excited about a recipe. Seeing Heidi move into Mario. (Mario is the nickname we've given to the Roma caravan resplendent with 70s Italian decor that sits in our driveway and is her new room.)
And this afternoon as I sat down to get my head around work commitments over the next few weeks while we live in the yurt, I felt the surge of anticipation that comes ahead of another excursion out of town. It's a few days early but I couldn't help myself; I drove the old Patrol down to the servo and checked the tyres, water, oil etc just so I could feel like I was getting ready.