Hello dear friends
Our holiday at the beach is fast coming to a close. We pack up and leave on Thursday. It helps that we are only a 35 minute drive up the freeway from home. In fact, we popped home this very morning as the weather forecast was predicting incredible storms with high wind and hail.
Geoff had a lot of loose sheeting lying around and was concerned about it flying though the air and harming someone. It was strange going home for 40 minutes and then leaving again! Still, we were amazed to walk into our backyard and see our cactus garden blooming with fifteen beautiful pink flowers. Another cactus (which rarely blooms) had pretty little yellow flowers on it also.
Now, what were the chances of this happening? I knew when we left home that we might miss the blooms that were forming. As the flowers only last for 24 hours, I resigned myself to this fate … and then thanks to a storm warning, we appeared at home on the right day to enjoy their delights. How wonderful!
The funny thing is, the storm fizzled out and left us wondering what the whole dire warning was all about. On the way back here we popped in for a visit and a cuppa with our daughter-in-law at her mother’s place and enjoyed some time with out smallest granddaughter Maddie (11months) who promptly cried when she saw us.
Oh dear, such tears! We hadn’t seen her for a few weeks and she looked at us as if we were strangers. Things were better by the time we left though and we were pleased we’d come home because of a storm warning that did not deliver the predicted outcome, in order to be surprised by such joyful events.
Arriving back at the van we felt as if we were another world away from home and tried to slip back into our holiday mode without battering an eyelid. The truth is though, that life here at The Broadwater has not been the same since our granddaughters headed for home in their school uniforms early Monday morning.
Yes, it is different without Alice (12) and Violet (7) to watch on the jumping pillow or in the pool, or have the girls wanting to play card games with you when you first open your eyes at 7am! Everything seems too quiet now.
“We’ve been ruined” I tell Geoff as I bunker down in the van from the wind to read the incredible story of Agnes Magnnusdottir, the last woman beheaded for murder in Iceland in 1828 (Burial Rites by Hannah Smith, a great read).
You would think this grim tale would keep me occupied but I feel restless without the girls and the caravan park is eerily quiet since a large number of people packed up yesterday and went home. It’s just not the same! It didn’t help that there has been the noise of car racing around the streets of Surfers Paradise (nearby) all weekend and now the streets are silent.
Geoff and I have very little to say to one another and we get into a rhythm of me reading and Geoff snoozing (with an occasional chat with a man in a nearby van). It’s as if we have a ‘let-down’ feeling and don’t know what to do with ourselves now.
We decide we may leave a day early as the weather isn’t exactly wonderful and besides … things just aren’t the same anymore. This place has lost its shine and we yearn for the things of home. Oh how fickle we are! We said we wanted time after the girls left to ‘recover’ and now we can’t bear the silence …