My bestie told me recently that I would be a shit grandma if I didn’t knit our impending first grandchild a baby rug.

We laughed and laughed.

And then I duly went to Spotlight and bought a load of wool, pattern and needles to confirm that I was indeed NOT a shit grandma.

That was in February.

Bub is due in one week.

Of the 16 squares called for, I have knitted 4.

Life apparently gets in the way of sitting down of an evening and taking up some therapeutic knitting.

As I fly into Melbourne with a ‘diagnosed’ viral infection, it seems I might have plenty of Easter time to finish those remaining 12 squares. (And yes I did take precautions on the plane with other passengers in mind).

It’s not like I can do a lot of socialising, it wouldn’t really be fair to bring my Chch based virus across the ditch to my friends and family.

I may have to put myself into self induced isolation.

I am sure my workmates would be pleased, or not, to hear that.

After a challenging weekend struggling with sickness, something I haven’t had for at least 8 years, I dragged myself into work on Monday and proceeded to cough my way through a 12 hour day.

What a martyr.

So I am told.

In my defence, given the flexible job I have (i.e a week off to come home every 6-7 weeks), I feel a great responsibility to give it my best shot when I am actually in the office.

And whilst I wouldn’t say my position is irreplaceable, after all no position is, the support I offer my irreplaceable boss hopefully helps.

A boss whose workload is huge at the best of times, more so with the incident management of the recent terrorist mosque attack in Christchurch, hopefully gets some benefit from that help.

After a number of weeks of managing this event for the community, and managing very well (dare I quote one high level official who said her management was ‘stunning for the Christchurch community’), ‘business as usual’ takes a bit of catch up.

Let’s just hope that over Easter when she winds down she doesn’t get any bugs that might be directly related to me.

For me, Good Friday may revert back to what it used to be so many years ago, pre children. Perched in front of the TV, watching the Good Friday Appeal.

And knitting.

For my work colleagues, I hope Good Friday is full of activity and not the beginnings of ‘anything’.

12 squares to go.