she rode to work on the new speedster.
She went to the races.
She even managed to see a horse.
Drew spent yesterday morning at a coffee shop reading the paper and trying to work out how he/we can take advantage of the FTA between China and Australia taking into consideration the recent opening of a new airport within 45 minutes drive of us (being flagged in some quarters as The New Gateway to Asia).
His vege growing attempts are progressing well.
My little brother has always been the one in the family to suffer injury after injury; if anything is going to happen to one of us, it will be Andrew who suffers. From being bitten by a redback spider and spending several days in hospital - "am I going to die Mum?" (I handed him the beanie that the spider was in on our way out the door to visit my dog that had just had 7 pups) to dropping a bowie knife on the top of his foot and taking a big chunk of flesh off to being shot in the head by Peter while playing War in the machinery shed (wow, didn't that one cause a ruckus, especially when they ran home from the shed with Peter saying, "Don't Tell Mum What Happened"; duh) it's always been poor Andrew. Therefore, I wasn't surprised to wake up to these images earlier in the week; through my bleary 5am eyes (no glasses) I thought he'd chopped the top off one of his fingers. In fact, it's his big toe - a horse stood on it. Ouch. He cleaned it up in the shower, pushed it back into shape and wrapped it in gauze and bandaids. As you do. (When I re-read the above it sounds like Peter and I were trying to get rid of our baby brother all those years ago; it wasn't really like that - we really were quite fond of him. Even when I bent his little finger backwards I wasn't really trying to break it....anyway, I paid for it when the surcingle strap from the saddle (deftly wielded by Mum) connected with my legs).
No comments:
Post a Comment