Monday, 7 November 2011

Away and back

I had a couple of days away, and got back this afternoon. I feel somewhat whacked, and thoughts swirl around my head. They won't stay still, or let me focus on any one theme or strand.

So be it.

I drove to Canberra, stayed with a friend and spent most of my time with my son and his boys. That went well. The little boys seemed pleased to see me, and I did lots of cuddling, and conversed with wildly fluctuating levels of competence on subjects such as the calendar, the planets orbiting the sun, the occurrence of leap years, but skilfully managed to avoid string theory. (I have no idea what string theory is, not having been blessed by a scientific mind, nor do I understand parsecs.) However, thanks to being keen on history and various other significant events and developments in the history of civilisation, not to mention having done some languages, I was able to dissertate with sufficient expertise on how the months were named, and the various changes made to the calendar. It was all rather exhausting and challenging, though. Fortunately, at this stage, although I remain relatively ignorant, I still know more than your slightly above average eight year old boy. I don't know how much he took in, of course.

I also did a bit of housework for my son, and then we went to the park, where the little one flung himself intrepidly onto all the equipment  and the older one freaked out - but kept trying it - going down a rather large slide, panicking all the way down. Eek!

We did some grocery shopping, and I had to catch the little one and put him in the shopping trolley, rather than chasing him around the whole supermarket. The idea flashed into my head that perhaps I am not fit enough to do all this. My back got a bit sore.

My son kindly checked the pressure in my tyres. I blush to admit I have never learned to do this, and will do all I can to avoid learning for the foreseeable future. He is doing a good job with his boys, who are progressing well.

I saw another friend and former colleague, and it turned out to be the 30th anniversary of the death of her seven year old son. We remembered Jonathan together. He'd been born with a heart defect, and eventually had open heart surgery, but he died shortly after the operation. She later tried to have another baby, but the shock and grief caused her reproductive system to totally pack up. The surviving child, a daughter, now has two children. I often think of those of us who have lost children, such as this friend, and another, whose daughter died at 18 from undiagnosed leukaemia. We pick ourselves up when we can, and get on with life, as we must, but those wounds never completely heal.

Now that I am back home, I must turn again to replying to and refuting the affidavits. It is a case of girding the loins and gritting the teeth, and getting it all done. I am staggered by their combination of inaccuracy, lack of veracity, malice and prejudice. As Truth is my middle name, and I have the documentation to counter their false assertions and prejudices, they should wind up looking less than lily white. The things that they say do not invalidate the strength of my case.


Stomper Girl said...

Boo hiss to them and their evil affidavits. I think their legal advice ought to have explained to them that these statements are meant to be truthful

persiflage said...

Yes, well, it seems that the advice must have been to all sing from the same page, rather than to have actually read my affidavit, and to either check on the facts, or to avoid saying the opposite of what can be verified. The idea seems to be that if I said X,Y and Z, and they all say the opposite, there is safely in numbers.

Zenom said...

Presumably we should rejoin with some additional statments to afix to your affidavit, and help balance the numbers.