This post is long overdue and to be honest, I’d almost forgotten I even had a blog. This is partly because life is so busy and full that I’ve stopped noting the significant, novel things about New Zealand, and just enjoy them in the moment. The other reason is that I was one of the unlucky Titirangi residents to catch the whooping cough doing the rounds in January 2011.
The hills of Titirangi
Instead of sipping a glass of champagne to celebrate our milestone of two years in New Zealand on 24 January, I was swigging cough medicine. A lot of it.
And let me tell you, whooping cough isn’t called the 100-day cough for nothing. I didn’t just cough, but felt as though I had a fever for four months. Looking after two young children, trying to work and keep the house clean had to fit around long naps, or just periods of exhausted lying about for weeks on end.
Being a hard worker, this was an interesting experience of being forced, for the first time in my life, to stop the treadmill and convalesce. It's been a time for deep reflection. The result? I have walked away from the past few months with a new, exhilarating question playing around in my head: ‘What am I waiting for?’
