1. On Friday evening I was supposed to be going out to meet friends for drinks after getting my hair cut. Haircut reasonably successful and completed early, I went home and lay down for a short nap… and woke up 9 hours later, still wearing my clothes.
That’s it. My Nana-dom is official.
2. Tim and I went canyoning again yesterday morning, and this time I took my diving camera so there is even photographic evidence of how intrepid/bedraggled/ill-equipped we both were…
Thus I am not a Nana, after all.
Above: Tim, just leaving the carpark at the start of the 2 hour hike to the entry point…
A potential entry point – you abseil off the tree down into the hole on the right…
Yours truly, in full swing. Note, if you will, the left-handed abseiling… tricky, cos I’m right-handed, but unavoidable because the anchor point at the beginning of the abseil, about 25 feet above the gap you can see at the top of the photo, is rather awkwardly positioned.
I love to be in the water.
Breathtaking views. And no people ‘cept us.
Enormous trees formed log jams at various points along the river. Thrown about like toothpicks by the mountain storms.
Looking like the wreck of the Hesperus, but enjoying myself thoroughly.
Magical grottoes where the sunlight penetrated the canyon. And given even more of an ‘other-worldly’ quality by the water drops on the camera lens.
“Come on in, the water’s lovely!”
Tiny Tim. The canyon walls sometimes looked as though they were leaning in to have a closer look at us.
This one is especially for healingmagichands, who I know adores rocks in all their natural splendour.
This is how rumours of yetis start…
Rather a lot of fun scrambling over rocks and logs.
Something in the water makes it very yellow, although mostly extremely clear.
Nearing the end of the canyon section.
Tim basks to warm up, lizard-like, before we start the 2 hour hike back uphill to the car.
3. When we arrived back in Sydney we picked up Tim’s heavily pregnant partner and a bag full of nappies and headed over to the local hospital where one of our mutual friends has just had her baby. Mother and child are well – he’s 4 weeks premature and a wee bit jaundiced but doesn’t need an incubator and is feeding and sleeping fine. She’s wiped out – she lost 2 1/2 litres of blood and was anaemic to begin with – but relieved and delighted to have a healthy son after all those weeks of worry.*
Anyway, as soon as I picked him up all my dormant nannying** instincts kicked back in. Broody? Hell, yes.
Well, at least until I remember how much more difficult doing things like canyoning, kayaking and diving are when you have small children to look after.
* This is the friend with whom I had to dash to hospital 8 weeks ago, after she began bleeding at work, and who has been pretty much hospitalised and on bed-rest since then.
** I worked as a Nanny on and off for about 10 years, through University and my first years in London, and then again about 4 years ago when I quit my stressful charity-sector job. I would probably still be a Nanny if it paid decently. Which it doesn’t.