Once again this morning has posed some creatively difficult challenges. I am learning how easy it is to get to the wall and how difficult it can be to push on through it. I have a far better understanding that I too am a brilliant procrastinator!! And yet I have no excuse, I have even had a morning surf. Speaking about my morning surf, I am trying a new technique – immersion, or at least this is what I am calling it. We sent my youngest son for swimming lessons in December for a solid two weeks. The difference in his confidence and abilities was remarkable. From a child that could not swim we suddenly had a child that could swim lengths unassisted at the age of three. My theory is if I could surf for two solid weeks, I too will have a step change in my abilities and confidence. I will keep you posted and you can count on my immersion being somewhat fun!

Another reason why the wall is so surprising is that we had a lovely weekend away. We went camping together with three other couples. Perhaps I am far too relaxed this morning and that I why I am unable to string any words together!

We camped at this beautiful little place outside of a town called Rawsonville. This is an area where the principle activity is the growing of grapes and pears. Imagine a countryside covered in vines. This is the time of year when the vines are dark green in colour and adorned with leaves. Our campsite was nestled in the mountains that crowd this part of the world. Access is by a picture skew dirt road that follows a lovely clear mountain stream up a ravine. We passed the wine farm and continued up into the mountains. At times the dirt road was only one lane wide with a steep fall off on the one side. I wondered who would need to give way if I encountered anyone else on the road, but did not get to find out. Further into the mountains, we discovered our campsite. It was rather not what we were expecting. To our pleasant surprise the camping area was covered in beautiful green grass. It had a little embankment which flattened out on the way to the river. The river was perfectly clear with a tinge of sepia. And it was all ours, not another camper in site.

With the gurgle of the stream and the shouts of playful children, I dozed off not once but twice! There is a certain peacefulness about camping. Time seems far more languid than normal and there seems to be so much more of it. I suppose it is because one is forced to rest, there is not much else to do. Much to my children’s chagrin, we departed on Sunday evening, certainly ready to return again!

Now with my procrastination at bay for the time being, I am about to charge back into my life!