Three cripples and a siren

Let me start with the SIREN Wailing, eating and sleeping with an occasional toothless grin, turning the world upside down for the two of the cripples – her back-broken dad and her tummy-sliced mum :-) . The third one has yet to recover from an inevitable date with the dentist. And the setting couldn’t be more accurate. Winter in Perth.
So it’s been two weeks since I flew over here to practice the art of being a good auntie. I reckon I’m doing pretty well considering any future chances of throwing myself into the chasm of maternity – nappies, cuddles, silly talks, silly lullabies, swings and twists with little Sofia yet to be put to sleep…and I think I’m more than happy to wait a bit longer for my turn…
So it was somewhat a rapid change from a solitary backpacking cyclope into a domesticated one. It’s nice to have your own room, a kitchen and a bathtub. But the price is high – a routine that reminds you of a daily life, no laughing kookaburras over your head, a feeling of lying at anchor, same faces same places, and the biggest enemy of all – your own very private boredom that creeps behind.
I’m still trying to be on the move though. I’m swimming again, doing my little ‘exploration’ runs and rides, making my mind up as to what I’m going to do next, when I get back home…and I still believe that if you really want something, you will get it. And if it still seems to be too high to reach, you just have to work a bit harder…