Hi everyone,
Drafting this just after lunch. Waiting for Uncle plus Mrs Uncle plus their kids to arrive and possibly stay the night. It's causing me some discomfiture because, regular readers may remember, they have a set of twins (raw nerve alert) and I can never shake the feeling that my uncle thinks I'm a complete tool.
The day itself has kind of already had its high point in the form of a 5 mile run through beautiful, fragrant countryside at about 7am. Since then I've done a detailed scoping out of an old shed on the property which may be a source for a short piece of writing, and tagged along while Dad and Michael were trying to make sense of the various sheds' electrical set ups. At the age of 34 it's a little demeaning to be used as the fetch-and-carry boy, but to find you've been demoted even beyond that is disheartening. It gives me flashbacks to when I was a kid and we saw dad's close friend Alan and his family: this was especially uncomfortable as Alan never made any secret of thinking I was a useless waste of human life.
Sheesh: complexes much?
Ok - they want to head out and keep working on the shed. I kinda wish I'd stayed in Melbourne and spent the weekend reading and writing and generally getting lost in the past.
More later.
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