Well I just got back from my Easter break, which was in Gippsland. You pronounce that with the g like ‘gills’, not with the g like ‘gypsy’. I don’t know whether that’s a long G or a short G, but I do know I called it Gyppsland when I first got to Melbourne and was mocked mercilessly. I mean, it’s not like I’m not mocked mercilessly still, but it’s less for pronunciation these days and more for plain old stupidity.

Anyway, there was horrendous rain and thunder when I was driving in: there was lightning all around me and it was suddenly very dark and it was like I was driving into a horror movie. Mr. T had a martial arts camp all Easter so it was only me going away – SUCK IT, I said joyfully as I accelerated away. Or so I thought until I realised there was nobody but me to drive towards the Eye of Mordor. Bugger. Once I got there it rained for a solid three hours and then the weather was beautiful for the rest of the entire long weekend. Ah yes, where was I? SUCK IT, that’s right. We spent a lot of time down by the lake…

… just sitting around doing nothing. This is my ideal holiday, except I FORGOT MY BOOK and had to talk to people instead. The hell. However there was much Easter chocolate which went a long way to restore my spirits. I bit the head of multiple Lindt bunnies and JE NE REGRETTE REIN. I keep their little red bells like trophies. Nom nom nom trophies.

It was also my birthday on Friday – Good Friday, naturally – and I got lots of good presents and also engaged. Also by this photo, freakishly tall:

No, not really that tall, but yes really engaged. It has been discussed for a while and so it begins. I can’t promise I won’t talk about wedding planning here but if I start to become obsessed with, I don’t know, table linens or boutonnieres or something, I want one of you stalkers to turn up at my house and slap me hard. Especially since I don’t know what a boutonniere is, really, but I have an uncomfortable feeling I’m about to find out. The plan at present is a really small wedding, in September, in New Zealand. Once I started drafting a guest list I realised Really Small might have to move up to Quite Small or perhaps Medium Small, but the rule still stand that we both must know every person there. And possibly dance the boutonniere, but I’ll get back to you on that once I learn all the steps.

And yes, Mr. T did propose and I did drive off for three days not two hours afterwards, telling him to SUCK IT as I went. Might as well start how we fully intend to go on, don’t you think?