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at sixes and sevens in the eleventh

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It’s that time of the year. Not quite Christmas. Not quite holidays. Not quite summer.

Life at Chez EllaDee & the G.O. and Sydney’s November weather have been dancing to the same discordant tune, akin to the noise of my recorder playing in second class at school.

Weather-wise it’s been four seasons-plus in one day. Plus being torrential rain, fierce winds, hail and tornadoes. November the month of my birth & my sister’s and associated celebrations has long been infamous for heterogeneous weather.

Likewise, the everyday of this eleventh month has been a mixed bag. It’s been an eye-opener to the comfort I find in being a creature of somewhat boring habit.

The G.O. was finally released from the project that’s been the bane of his existence since Easter the year before last. He was headed for a new project on the South Coast, near Kiama where we like to steal infrequent weekends away, involving an extra couple of hours driving each day on top of his usual 7 am to whenever workdays.

Inclement weather, a project fast heading to disaster and deadline diverted his efforts locally for a couple of weeks although he was working 4 am, 6 am, 7 am to whenever and 6 days.

Meanwhile, it was quiet, sometimes very quiet, on the solo home front unless of course I opened the door to the soundtrack of the train line. But, that was my only respite. My mostly peaceful work days at my desk overlooking the harbour became unexpectedly but not unpleasantly hectic. It’s just the timing wasn’t great; home comforts depend on one of us having capacity to attend to them.

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