Nicole-less

Nicole has been away for a few days on a conference to New Zealand, which was nice for her, but of course we missed her.

She left me to deal with the Birthday Party at Stafford Skate City, which of course was dead easy. I went roller-skating. Eloise was less interested in having me help her than other more experienced practitioners, which was fine by me.

I ferried her out to the middle of the rink for the Birdie Dance. I drew the line at dancing. It would have been too, um, dangerous. Seriously.

That was Saturday... after dropping Nicole off at the Airport we'd been to the market in the morning and seen some friends there who live just around the corner. We bagged an invitation to use their swimming pool.

So on Sunday in the afternoon we toddled around there and Eloise had a swim for about thirty seconds in the frigid waters. After that much play was had and we ended up being invited to supper, so that turned out to be a little more major than expected.

On Monday Eloise had the day off school for a pupil-free day so we went for our constitutional up to Mount Coot-tha and did walk number two which works its way past a pond, up the side of a creek before hanging a right over a hill, round the top and back down.

It was round the top that Matilda went missing; we called her for a while but no answer so, having a five-year-old in tow and the priority being on progress, we pressed on.

After a while Matilda caught up, and starting walking along with us. That's pretty suspicious behaviour. She seemed to be limping a bit too, so I thought she's probably twisted her ankle or something, and didn't think too much of it.

After a while she was still with us, and my curiosity got the better of me. I checked that leg out and there were no apparent problems. When I checked a little bit higher up I noticed a little blood on my hand so we looked underneath her torso to be confronted by the mother of all gashes, the subcutaneous fat red and bursting out from the flensed skin, pulled an inch wide and probably five inches long.

So quickly down the mountain, Eloise commendably cool in the crisis, and quickly to the vet, who as it happens is having surgery monday anyway and can get her in within half and hour.

And Matilda picked up at six o'clock, dazed, confused, stitched up, and on no-walking orders with various parts of her body shaved and her chest looking like a furry Frankenstein's monster.

On Tuesday Eloise was back at school for Wilston State School's 90th birthday. I went along for the morning celebration and heard her/them sing the song they've been practicing for for ages. Think Wind Beneath Your Wings. It wasn't that ghastly thing, but it was in the ballpark.

On Wednesday, unencumbered by such commitments, I drove up to the Glass House Mountains and climbed Mount Ngungun. It was steep, but dry.

From the top I saw the approach of rain. I descended, hastily.