The dreaded lurgy visited us last week. Resulting in a week off work for me and a couple of days for Ian, the kids were relatively lucky and came through it unscathed, though they were also confined to the house because I felt like doing not much at all. Playing doctors and nurses only lasted so long...
So on the weekend, we got out of the house for the afternoon, and headed to the dairy across the road from my grandparents home. The Anderson brothers run the farm, a family business passed through the generations.
When my sisters and I were younger, we would go over to their dairy with Dad, and spend the afternoon with the new calfs, attempting to ride the motorbikes and scaling the silo's in search of eggs from the birds that nested at the top.
Seeing Grace and Tom run through their farm gave me a lump in my throat. Their faces, filled with wonder and excitement. Grace was knee deep in cow-poo, calling to the girls as they slowly made their way to farm for milking.
It is only now that I feel blessed and thankful for the childhood I had. And I feel like it is repeating itself now Grace and Tom are here. Unreal.