It may be odd, posting a photo of the kids when the blog thinks we're still near Avignon, which is a long way from where they can be found, but a lot of water has gone over the aqueduc since last we had time to post. If "busyness" consumes us when we are on the road, it's nothing to the tsunami that envelopes us on our return.
It starts as a dull roar in the distance, the one that sounds exactly like a jet spinning down, then there is a lull, we alight and are engulfed in heat, humidity, children, happiness and some sadness too. Hours turn into days and then into a month, and one starts to hope that the notes one made of those final weeks away do not get lost in the wash before the stories can be converted to electrons.
It matters little if they do, as they will be replaced by other very noisy ones in the blink of an eye. Having been run a teensy bit ragged by a touch of solo grandparenting last week, it wasn't my most patient voice that called back to the ten year old straggler on one of our adventures, to enquire as to why he was lagging.
"I have a gum nut in my sandal" came the reply.
"Well it could be worse it could be a prickle" I sympathetically urged, hoping to enthuse him sufficiently to have us home before midnight.
"Oh no Papa! It could be a LOT worse" interrupted the voice attached to my left hand, as Miss Six began to explain why: "He COULD," she started, "be bleeding out. Then, there'd be no blood getting to his brain, and his brain would have no oxygen, and then….."
OK, I'll give her that, it could be a lot worse. He could have a travel diary incomplete as well..