I'm beginning to feel like a regular jetsetter, given that now I'm off again - to Tasmania this weekend. Although I'm not sure whether Hall's Gap one weekend and then Tassie the next exactly qualifies as jetsetting. Nevertheless it's fairly adventurous for me. Also adventurous is leaving my eighteen-year old in charge of hearth and home and incontinent dog. Especially as she's already informed me that she plans on having a little 'gathering'. What the hell is a gathering, little or otherwise, and how is that different from a party?
And perhaps the really sad thing is that if I had the choice, I'd probably opt for a weekend at home. Preferably all alone in my pyjamas with hot chocolate and a good book and my feet up on the coffee table. When did that become my idea of bliss?