If you live in our neighbourhood, and you happen to be going for an evening stroll, you may hear the weak clanging of a bell, followed by four strained voices crying ‘Unclean, unclean…’ We are all exhibiting varying degrees of plague, ranging from listlessness to dayglo noses. Fortunately we haven’t reached the suppurating sores bit yet, but it is probably a matter of time.

Last night, after I had worked until 10 pm (stupid new night shift that I have to do once a week) I came home, and collapsed into my son’s uncomfortable bed, as he was wheezing and snoring on my side of my bed. In the middle of the night, Neen attempted to wake me, saying that there was a dripping sound in our ceiling. I mumbled that we had no torch with batteries, and my stumbling around in the dark wouldn’t solve anything.

An explorative climb this morning proved that yes, our water geyser is leaking, and requires the services of a plumber. We have still to pay the plumber who charged 10% of my salary to change a washer, so we’ll have to wait. The bathroom ceiling is starting to crack and sag like failed silicon implants. I don’t really react to any more crummy things, as the year has presented so many of them already. Compared to a broken pressure valve, there have been far more serious things.

Like who is signing the Kyoto Protocol, and learning how to male mini garlic bread on a barbecue.

How do children manage to do the whole tiny-Tim-on-his-deathbed thing, causing you to dash to the emergency room/visit your very expensive paediatrician and then wake up the following day jumping around like Richard Branson on a caffeine high?

So. The list of Challenges and Possible Threats to Blood Pressure grows and grows. In two weeks, I have had to change jobs, been burgled, had a sick family, a broken water geyser, a dying computer, and…and…

Oh yes, even as I speak I am covered in blood.

Green blood. First, I had to fulfill my (unwanted) role as cockroach killer when a skanky beast the size of my index finger was browsing in our groceries cupboard, and then, before the tiny screams had even had a chance to die away, Neen pointed to a huge cricket not much smaller than said roach. Because of the heat, there has been a plague of the things. They sing, and not like Michael Buble, and chirrup, and have an unnerving way of leaping out at you as you walk past.

Plagues of insects, illness, loss of all personally valuable things, a drought which has killed my garden and is likely to push up the price of wine… Seeing a pattern?

Despite all these things, I am grateful that my family is with me, that we are all alive. I am not regretting another year. I am almost getting to the stage when I am learning things about myself through all these challenges. Fear not! I am on a journey, and although I may be camping next to a dumpsite, I believe that a beautiful wilderness awaits. Why do they say ‘untamed wilderness’ like it’s a good thing? I prefer tamed wilderness, thank you.