91 days….

Back at work today, and although I got blindsided by a letter from your employer and fell in a sobbing heap, today wasn’t so bad.  Something about working with kids calms me.  Even working with my most challenging “red group” for 2 hours this morning was good…. despite D patting every part of my body he could reach, R being inches away from a meltdown the whole time …. and a new girl thrown into the mix of beautiful that forms red group.

My Year 5 lessons were *bang on* and the kids really enjoyed themselves.  I love it when *my* lessons work out better than the prescribed lessons.

I finished at 1pm and actually got away from school at 1:05pm.  Unheard of!

And then I bought a new washing machine.
As you do.
I know you would have been yelling that the old one was fine as I parted with the cash….. but let me point out that while the Hoover has been an awesome machine (given that you found it dumped by the side of the road 10 years ago, and repaired it for the princely sum of $18)  it broke down often and leaked all over the floor quite frequently.  AND  if you recall the conversation we had on the morning of the accident, you were to come home and fix it again that evening.
In fact that when T drove me home to collect some clothes and toiletries that first night, I stupidly started sobbing over the washing machine and lamenting that you couldn’t fix it now.  So T set about fixing it for me (I swear you and he were twin separated at birth … and by a few years … but anyway…)  The upshot is that *I* can’t fix the leaky, belt-throwing thing anymore and every time it chucks a wobbly (and I do mean that literally). I break down in a sobbing heap whenever the stupid things breaks because it’s yet another sign that you aren’t *here* to fix stuff for me.  So…. I bought a new one.

Which brings me to the memory of the day….

How I used to joke that I only married you because a) you picked me and b) you could fix stuff.  Your sisters never got the joke , but you did.  It turned into a running joke whenever anything would break down.  You were my Mr Fixit!

Oh how we loved each other!  We really were connected on such a deep level.  Kindred spirits.

I love you, my Mr Fixit.