That Time of the Year

Well it's that time of the year again. Where will we be?
Will we stay here or will I be making lists, looking at schools, websites, asking advice.
I tell myself, there's no point in worrying. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.
Besides, change is good. So I tell myself. So I tell myself.

Dreams

I dreamt of my granpa this morning. I was laying in bed. Too lazy to pull up my wellies. I could feel the bulk of my sweater and fleece jacket. I could see the pine trees and grass through the mirror's reflection. I finally got up. Facing the window, I was surprised to find the scandinavian landscape gone. In it's place was the garden in my granpa's house in Manila. I saw the papaya trees and cherry tomatoe bushes that he cultivated and the huge star apple tree in the corner. Then granpa was there. The thing was, he was standing on the roof and I was overlooking the garden from the second floor bedroom. I nearly ran out. Terrified really. But I stopped myself. This moment may never come and he was there. He looked young. His hair almost black. He had put on weight. He was wearing white bermuda shorts. He walked to the window and said, "Michelle I missed you. I have always missed you." Two nights ago, I prayed for an ally for Francesca and myself. Granpa answered my prayer. Somebody hears me.

In the twelve years that my granpa has passed away. I have dreamt of him only once before.
This was about three or four years ago. He brought my bito into this dream. Ammends were made. I need not say more.

Time To Get Ready

School will be opening in two weeks. We've done the rounds of doctors and checks. Tuition paid. Lunch for the term arranged. School uniforms have been purchased. All that's left is to enjoy the remaining weeks and get a haircut. That goes for both Seba and myself.