Dancing Wombat Blog



All smashed up

Well, I got it all smashed up last night. No, not from hitting a glass ceiling or doing fancy things with avocados. The passenger mirror on our family van. And I did it with an audience – not just two of my boys in the back of the car, but the six or so workmen in the...

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Guinea pig rescue!

One of our guinea pigs ran away this afternoon. Guinea pig rescue ops swung into action and the escapee was eventually retrieved, thank goodness. Later reflecting on the search and rescue effort, I realised that it was the perfect metaphor for what one of my children...

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There is a certain sort of lonely

There is a certain sort of lonely There is a certain sort of lonely – of the quiet house with the sleeping child the silent child the sick child. The lonely of “if only”…. There is a certain sort of noise – of unspoken questions with angry looks hurt upon...

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When the going gets tough check the toolbox

I’ve been rummaging around toolboxes of all kinds this past month as I help my family prepare our beloved old family home for sale. Everyone has a toolbox of sorts, right? Maybe a very organised, multi-layered affair loaded with all sorts of spanners,...

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