Slothing around in uggies

Last week was a l-o-o-o-ng week.

There was all that marking (I just managed to get things finalised before my deadline … give or take a bit), there were meetings and classes and emails and other work-related things (the usual litany, but it just felt denser this week), there was Scouts* on Thursday night (with first aid and hike planning), I got roped into helping at a Scout Leader training course this weekend (with not much notice, just to add to the chaos), I was doing work in between sessions at the training course (as I am preparing some professional development sessions for the coming week), I ran a campfire on Saturday night (I enjoyed this bit amongst all the franticness of everything else, as there was plenty of singing and skits and general silliness), I was up early this morning (to find a kookaburra on the veranda of our cabin), I raced back to Melbourne to pick up my** Garrulous German Grandmothers whom I take to Church (detouring on the way back to check out a couple of locations for a cache), and I played various keyboardy instruments at Church in the main meeting and in Primary (“Primary” is for the kids under 12 and today I was trying to lead the singing as well (normally I conduct and teach the music and someone else plays the piano, but today the regular pianist was away so I was doing both)).

It was nice to come home this afternoon and put on my comfortable ugg boots and sloth around for a bit.

* “Scouts” in the sense of “the kids who are Scouts” is plural, I know, but here I mean “Scouts” as an activity (or even an organisation), which I am sure is singular … and if it isn’t really then it should be.

** They are grandmothers (well, at least one of them is, and if the other one isn’t she’s old enough to be), and mine in the sense that I pick them up and notice their garrulousness and their Germanness, but not in the sense of actually being related to me.