Australia

Phoebe has been at a drama/horse-riding camp for four days this week, the lucky creature. Her unlucky mother has wasted three hours per day on the driving back and forth. Grit teeth. Think of child. I love how these camps are supposed to relieve the working parent of the burden of children at home on school holidays, but actually do nothing of the sort. If she'd been home, I could have said 'sure, watch telly, eat peanut butter sandwiches till you're sick, I'm in the office if you need me'. Instead I drove and drove and drove. And paid ridiculously for the privilege.


Last weekend we drove down to Our Nation's Capital (thus lazy blog title) and Andrew ran the marathon. Sadly, he didn't make his goal of a sub-3hr, but he did run a PB and we were very proud of him. He hasn't bought a photo yet, but I think he's going to choose this one, with Parliament House in the background.

I don't run but I feel like I SHOULD. I was reading one of my preferred blogs where there was some talk of running and motivation, and it made me WISH for motivation. Surely wishing is the first step? Fact is, I am lazy and asthmatic, which makes running doubly challenging. At least I made it to yoga today, where my teacher was almost nice to me.