No longer can I say to new visitors. It's the big red brick monstrosity.
As of this morning I can say: It's the big grey brick house.
Because with the new colour and the fancy pants new front window, it looks quite nice.
In fact, to me, it's amazing and beautiful. I keep going outside and looking at it.
Of course, there is still a great deal of scaffold but you can get the gist.
At the back, the large conifer crazy hedge that has dominated our back garden since we've owned the house and who knows how long before that, has been ruthlessly trimmed.
|It's hard to explain, but to see our neighbours roof and that much sky, is amazing.|
They're gone. Well mostly gone. My back deck is a new place entirely.
Transformed I tell you.
And finally. On a less cheerful note.
Last night I got the much dreaded, come and pick your wounded child up from gym phone call. Sarah had taken a nasty fall off the balance beam and landed on her straight arm. She was in SO MUCH pain. Every bump in the road to the hospital was torture for my poor baby girl.
|Still smiling. She did like the wheelchair.|
Can I just say, Royal North Shore's new emergency department is fabulous.
Apparently due to swelling or growth plates or fluid in the joints, breaks don't always show up clearly, especially on elbows. And you don't mess with elbows. The relief she felt once the plaster was on and the joint immobilised was massive.
We left hospital, were home just after 11pm and put her to bed. She...wait for it...went to school today! Talk about your stoic.
All in all, to someone who was having nasty visions of pins and surgery, getting away with a wrist to shoulder cast was almost a reprieve.
Maybe that is a transformation? From potential disaster, to not so bad? I certainly feel like we've been let off lightly, although the poor chick is missing her State gym comp, swimming, tennis, touch football, and numerous things I've probably forgotten...talent quest?
She may not see things quite the same way as I do. After all, I'm not the one with the cast.