From over here to over there: 2012

More than anything, it's the smells. Maybe because of the memories and nostalgia stimulated. In no particular order.

The Irish supermarket, local Spar or Centra
The local 'green' and fresh cut summer grass
Malahide estuary
Gibneys
Dad's chips
The Grove tennis club (that one was a real belter and incredibly difficult as Marian was simply everywhere around the place). Prob 10 years or more since I'd set foot the place.
Low rock and Malahide beach - the seaweed
It's cliche, but the air is just different. Not better or worse. Just different.
The pines in Malahide castle
Tarmac. Moreover, wet tarmac.
John Moore's house. Same as when I was 5. Emptier now and not the same without Anita.
Bank of Ireland Malahide.
Chalfont Place

There’s something about June.

Once again, a rough month in our lives. Remembering Marian, Georgia and Jen always makes the end of June that bit harder than the rest of the year (that’s not say the rest of the year is easy sometimes). This year, we had the frightening experience of finding out Alissa had a level 4 melanoma. We discovered that on June 12^th, just after our very pleasant kid free few days away in Auckland. Here’s how the stats went. At that point, Alissa has a 25% chance of recurrence within 5 years. 2 harrowing sleepless days later, we meet the consultant who takes us through next steps/options. Removal of more tissue around where the melanoma was –‘ gold-plated procedure’ he called it. The optional surgery was to go through a radiation type dye procedure to detect the lymph node the area drains to, and take it out. If the biopsy results on the lymph came back positive for melanoma cells, stats move to 40%, if negative, 10%. We chose to have that done to work with the numbers.

The consultant (Mr Smithers – yes, really) didn’t dwell too much on the surgery side of things, perhaps because of what was a much bigger issue at stake – it was no small deal. Alissa was knocked out and had an overnight in hospital – apparently if it was only the tissue removal, would have been a day surgery. Big chunk all the same.
Then the agonising wait. Surgery was on a Tuesday and we were told Friday we’d get the results. Friday came and went and of course the mind plays all sorts of games as to whether it is a good thing or bad thing not to hear. Midday Saturday we got the call and it was good news. Of course everything is relative but it was all we wanted at the time. 2 weeks of tension and stress building up to that moment. I knocked back a strong glass of rum having barely had a drop of alcohol for 2 weeks. We’d both lost 3 kilos in the process.
The kids were troopers – knew there was something going on with all the support and flowers arriving – and they had got quite clingy around operation time.
By the time the anniversaries came around, we were in a better position to think about our lost ones and reflect a bit. And rethink our own life plans. Bring a few things forward and live a little more now rather than waiting until this or that is done.

Though one of my small efforts to try help a bit by buying that robomaid (robot vacuum cleaner) was not a success. Money back guarantee utilised for the first time in my life. Emma is still disappointed that the 'toy robot' had to leave.

The new 55 inch smart TV however was and is a roaring success. Still looks small in that big room I think. Should have gone 65 inch.

Now over 1 year since we moved into the house. And so Max has turned 1. Still stomping around the place as he has done for almost 4 months now.

Concrete slabs. Order of the day. 3 of them. Little ones, but enough to be able to mount a decent sized mailbox and 2 light bollards for the driveway. I haven't connected the latter - concrete mixing is not that dangerous, underground electrical wiring a different matter.

August is upon us. Time for all of Brisbane to get sick. Time for me to head off to Ireland with Emma.