There's only so much time I can handle a photo of myself sulking in a fedora at the top of this page. So enough already.
Actually, it could well have stayed there for eternity if some bright spark from a Channel 10 production company hadn't suggested that I appear on some god forsaken insightful reality show to discuss infidelity. It took me all of a heartbeat to decide that I would prefer to stab myself in the eye repeatedly with a pointy stick before doing that. Also not so keen on the placement of ads for marriage counselling here at chez rummage. Lord knows I am most certainly no expert.
The one thing I am rock solid on is a very large feeling of gratitude to the people who responded to that last post without prejudice or judgement. Thank you for your kindness and giving me the benefit of the doubt. I want to pass on thanks from the French as well - he read through each comment and I know it helped him too.
I want you to know that we are good here at the house of rummage, my little family and I. Life is a curious and colourful beastie and I never seem to be able to take the easy road in anything, the french says that's why he married me, I can't quite believe that he hasn't changed his mind. But he hasn't and I am finally beginning to understand the meaning of unconditional love when I look in those gentle brown eyes.
The knowledge that I am surrounded by people with grace and big hearts is an unexpected kindness that I treasure. I have a friend in Adelaide who I've never met but have known now for years and her emails during this time I have read and reread as a kind of sustenance. I don't know why I woke up a month ago and had to write about what happened and I don't want to dwell on this but releasing it out into the ether has helped me in a profound way. There is a Ruth Park novel titled Dear Hearts and Gentle People and that's how I often think of the people who read this blog. You've helped me through a dark time and for that I am grateful.