The world shifted over the weekend. Not metaphorically, but literally. And like so many others, I have watched the news with disbelief. The images are incredible in their ferocity, and in some way all the more terrifying because this is what happened.
It was real.
And I do what I always do when the horror of it all is overwhelming.
I scrub.
Not because I don't care, but because I care too much and fear the horror of it all will overwhelm me.
So I fill a bucket with soap and bleach and really hot water. And I get down on my hands and knees and scrub.
And then I go through room by room, systematically cleaning and polishing my house.
The offspring are like a line of worker ants, all on stand by ready to help out.
Husband takes off outside, and is seen sweeping up leaves and dusting off the cobwebs.
The music is cranked loud and occasionally we conga line the rubbish bags outside.
And for a while at least, order in my universe is restored.
I take comfort in the frangipani scented candles burning in the house and the liberal sprays of cleaning polish throughout.
It's beautiful and safe.
And then we all go out together.
We did so this weekend. We went on a glorious school picnic, we visited animal refuges and we tasted sushi and pasta. We laughed and played together.
And now the offspring are running round the garden as husband sprays them with the hose.
It's safe and beautiful here.
I know elsewhere it isn't.
The world shifted irrevocably on the weekend.
But I was so lucky. This weekend was our oasis. Our time away from it all.
My heart is with those who had no such escape.