I love getting out in the garden and tending to my plants. There’s a simple joy that goes hand in hand with watering them and watching them grow, and it is amazing how they respond to a little fertiliser.
“Getting to know me. Getting to know all about me.” Sounds like a line from a very old song. Oh, hang on a minute, that’s not right. The correct words are: “Getting to know YOU! Getting to know all about YOU! Getting to like you. Getting to hope you like me.” Aka – that wonderful song from Rodgers and Hammerstein’s, The King and I.
I’ll let you do the singing because this post is all about you getting to know me, allowing you to understand a little more about the crazy lady who owns this bog and, perhaps along the way, I might even learn a thing or two about myself.
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For almost six months, Dean and I have been house sitting in and around the Sunshine Coast, close to Caloundra (where our new home is being built) and although this has been a godsend, and may even seem adventurous, minding someone else’s house does have its drawbacks. Some can lead to occasions of hilarity like the time we had a carpet snake enter the house and I had a full-scale nuclear meltdown. But there have also been many occasions of utmost frustration.
In order to immortalise these moments of exasperation, I’ve compiled the following to demonstrate exactly what house sitting is not.
Is Emma Swan taking time out in Australia?