By the end of last week I was a bit of a wreck. Keith caught a terrible death flu-gastro-tonsillitis combo that had him vomiting, feverish, bloodshot and confined to bed. Ted (or Trixie-Jeff, as he now insists on being addressed. Trixie-Jeff, dog save us) came down with a bad case of the night-naughties. Flying visits to Sydney, weekend guests. Many good things along with the bad, but just too many things. The tank ran dry by last night. I felt exhausted.
Today Keith is better and back out to his caravan. I decided to slow things down and get some happy house-time happening. I made it to hydrotherapy to warm the old bones early this morning, and then I put my crafty hat on. Ivy has been talking about volcanoes for a few days and the Internet read my mind and made clever Jean from The Artful Parent post about a volcano-making project she did with her daughter.
So we mixed up some green play-dough, put the gum boots on over the PJs and went on a nature walk with the collecting bags to find some volcano props.