The puppies are flying from Melbourne to Sydney as we speak blog tribe. I’m pretty sure this is the part when I start throwing up all over myself.

I realize there is a special sort of insanity in flying two furry creatures over 10,000 miles back to my loving arms… but they’re my babies. I don’t reckon they’d abandon me for the opposite side of the planet, hence I never intended to bring such upon them.

… Get on the plane!

Timothy and I were stewing over the puppies Friday arrival earlier and the conversation sounded something like, “The legs on the table need to be strengthened.”

“Wah. I’m writing, leave it.”

“It needs screws.”

“Is it strong enough in case Henry dances on it?”

“Is he going to?”

“No. He might. But…”

“It’s not strong enough for Henry to dance on.”

“That’s cool, whatever. He probably won’t anyways.”

Three more sleeps until they arrive. It’s a long trip and my poor husband is copping a serious beating of nervous breakdown over it.

But he can’t wait to meet them…

I’m off to eat pumpkin feta lasagna in my backyard with Timothy. Then back to book. And puppy preparing.

Three sleeps!