316 days

I spent today feeling paralysed.

I glued myself to tv news and twitter updates.

I read some twit’s comment about how the dam was failing and could let go and completely wipe us off the map.

Then I got angry that someone could post such a worrying remark without being able to find any evidence that it was remotely true.

Then I read the fantastic updates from the police who also debunked myths along the way …. including the fact that the dam is fine thank you very much.

Then I found flood maps and confirmed that we would be OK here….

but those images from Toowoomba and Grantham are etched into my mind and I couldn’t concentrate on anything.


The River will peak on Thursday. … but will have smaller peaks tonight and tomorrow with each high tide. No problem so long as I don’t decide to take a drive.


I think to myself that life is SO unfair that I have to deal with this by  myself before I’ve even been able to find my feet since your death.

Every time I start getting my act together, some new load will land on my shoulders:

does H have Aspergers? (no, but dipshits managed to make me worry unnecessarily about it),

will my contract at work be extended? (yes and yes and I bloody well hope so),

why is there water coming into my house?,

where is it getting in?,

why is it that I fix one leak and then have to STILL put up with water coming in?,

will our house flood?

why won’t it stop raining?

Obviously the answer for each question is the same: God hates me.

or … maybe it’s just that widowhood doesn’t actually ward off all other evils like some sort of magic talisman.

Bad things happen to good people.

and then more bad things happen.

and that’s just the way it is.

So I have to learn to look beside the bad things to see the good things.

and I need to learn to be thankful for those.


I miss you.

I NEED you.

I love you.