Facing it

We decided that little boys like to face things like bad weather full on. We had a look at Gorg Blau, which although is still very empty, had a full blown river charging into it. The picnic site was a wash out so we watched the poor lambs shletering for a while, got a bit wet and then headed back down to Sa Bassa. It had stopped raining for a whie, so I got the fire roaring in no time thanks to Isa and Pau's wood collected the other weekend and got some things frying. Just in time before the next delude filled the pan three times. We steamed off laughing and eating in the car and headed back home to dry off completely.

The next few hours were a bit hellish. The boys had been playing, and to cut a long story short, little Agu ended up with a very, very bad cut on his wrist. It still turns my stomach to think of it. Thirteen stitches later at the brilliant PAC and he is bandaged up and absoutely fine. My stomach is still churning and my brain doing somersaults at how lucky he was and how lucky we all are he didn't do anything worse. The glass is all cleared up and the last bit of Mr Gum saved from last night beckons. I will be at home with Little Agu tomorrow so we can get his wound checked out by the nurse.

I'm exhausted and trying not to think too much of what we might have had to confront.