‘The Day an Avocado Drove Us Dotty’ Rubbish Day

The boychild woke up this morning with one thing on his mind. Avocados. He needed, yes needed, an avocado before school. More accurately, he needed its pip for school, for Natural Science. For today! This meant that we needed to be ready faster than normal, on a morning that we had woken later than normal, because we had not slept as well as normal, because the midnight storm had made our Chinese-crested Powder Puff jump in and out of our bedroom window with much clattering of silverware and crystal ball displays, which is entirely normal. As you can imagine, by the time I was ready to take out the rubbish, I felt a little…well…dotty. Then Dotty led to Dorothy and Dorothy went to Oz and the next thing you know, I was skipping in the street, disturbing the peace with my very own Chinese-crested Powder Puff Toto.

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There is definitely no place like our home!

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Toto, of the cupboard-ransacking, cereal-eating, housebreaking-in ways.

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We are a menace to society, I tell you. Well, we are at least a menace to our neighbourhood.

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Follow the middle-class brick road…follow, follow, follow, follow….

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Back-to-school Parade Day Rubbish Day

Today the charming, funny, entirely wonderful boy-child went back to school and I’m not going to lie, Internet, I am beside myself with joy. Working from home with wildlings is not easy. To celebrate this day of high-fiving boyish reunions and parental giddiness, I donned a party frock (it’s creased because, frankly, it’s all I’ve been able to do to keep up with the constant picking up of scattered yoghurt tubs this past 6 weeks), I put on a party fascinator (we’re all out of party hats. December does that to one’s supply), I ribboned up, and marched to the parade-beat of my own drummer.

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And imagine my excitement at discovering that today there was even a “crowd” in the street with whom to celebrate!

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Happy Wednesday everybody. May it never rain on your parade (unless you live in Jo’burg and your lawn is as crispy as mine)

All Things Must End Rubbish Day

So, the summer holidays are nearly over. We are limping, dragging ourselves bodily towards back-to-school day. I love my children with the chest-popping, growling, big Love but it is time for them to spend some time more than a metre away from me. It is time!

This is the way the holiday ends. This is the way the holiday ends. Not with a bang but a whimper (apologies to Mr Eliot)

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This morning’s Rubbish Day photos were taken by the madly talented, extremely wonderful friend, Germaine DeLarch. She came for tea and we forced her out into the road with only an iPad and a vision of our discontent and dustbins. Thank you 🙂