Be Careful What You Wish For

This paragraph was brought to you by the letter W.

The weather has been terrible, with the three W’s featuring prominently – Wet, Windy and Wild. We had a solitary day of sunshine and blue skies over the weekend but for the most part I’ve listened as the waves have crashed and the wind has whistled and wuthered around us. I loved it for the first few weeks, coming from temps where an egg white can be fried on a car bonnet in minutes, to boots and jeans was wonderful. The warmth of hot chocolates and red wine on a winters night rekindled my love of Port Willunga without the wrathful summer heat.

This paragraph was brought to you by the letter F.

Fat and fed up with single parenting I am desperate to get these flabby arms moving again. Australian school holidays have had me fleeing the local pool. Flawed in my logic of missing the crowd, I tell myself I’ll return to the solace of fins on my feet – next week. I’m missing those twice weekly visits to the pool in Qatar with friends who are faster, thinner and far more foxy – our measuring of how far we’ve swam, our floundering tumble turns and flawed efforts to perform the perfect breaststroke. Fake tan mocks my winter holiday from the bathroom cupboard.

This paragraph was brought to you by the letter M.

I miss my mate in matrimony. I miss the mutuality of raising children together, our merger currently managed by FaceTime which somehow never matches our mishmash of schedules. He in Milan, me in Myer in Rundle Mall. Minecraft maintains the children’s interest while the rain falls and the wind blows. Meanwhile my mind wanders back to a melting hot sun in the Middle East.

The wind continues to whisper; be careful what you wish for.


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