A Slow Long weekend

The first long weekend of the new term, and we let it pass quietly.

On Anzac Day, when most shops stay closed until 1pm, we stayed in for a slow morning. A pot of warm soup, and the crusty ends of last week's lunchbox bread — the bits I'd frozen — toasted golden in butter. By late morning we headed out to Westgate. I'd spotted a sale on Threads the night before, and the children's feet, as they always do, had grown again.

Westgate's row of permanent outlet stores were running another 30 to 40 per cent — sometimes 50 — off the already-marked-down tags. Running shoes for $30 a pair. We picked up a pair or two for everyone, hoodies for the girls, shorts for PeNnY. By the time we'd finished, the children were declaring starvation, so we ducked into an Italian place nearby for dinner. On the way back to the car, fairy lights had been strung between the buildings, glowing like small stars over Westgate at dusk.

On Sunday, Jin's friend's family came over. The children disappeared into their own world for hours; the adults eventually drifted into ours, and we shared a long dinner together. We hadn't all sat down like this in a while — everyone had been busy in their own corners — and the conversation moved easily, the way it does when there's no rush.

Just one extra day of rest, and yet the last day moved gently. It wasn't until afternoon that I finally went out for groceries. Ham and cheese for the lunchboxes, morning tea snacks, milk, a little meat — that sort of shopping. Somewhere between the aisles, PeNnY — recently obsessed with putting basil on his pizzas — turned up holding a small basil plant. I'm not someone who keeps plants alive. The only thing I've managed to grow is spring onion, which more or less raises itself. But I took the pot anyway. On the drive home, I named her YuBaba, after the first character of my name. I looked up how to look after a basil plant — it'll need repotting, and pinching back the tips. Welcome home, Baba. Let's stay together a long time.

Dinner was the baked pizza with basil — separately bought — on for Penny, a croissant sandwich for the others. For dessert, dense little lava cakes. Three palm-sized cakes for $5, which we shared between us, all of us regretting that I hadn't bought another box.

That night, all five of us slept in the same room. Each child had picked a book, and I read them in turn. Jin's picture book all the way to the end; the first chapter of Hyun's Korean junior novel; the first chapter of Min's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. When the next night comes, we'll read the second chapters.