packing my briefcase

Or I would be, if I had one. Luckily I'm not that kind of girl.

Off to Joburg tomorrow, to spend the night with dear friends - yay! - and do some business, then on a 06h50 flight to Swaziland on Monday morning. And yes, apparently as it's an international flight, I have to be at the airport 2h beforehand. Plus a minimum 45min drive to Jhb International and I'll let you do the math - it ain't pretty.

Monday - Wednesday in SZ prepping for the job, meeting the team, scoping out some venues and meeting some bigwigs in the Swazi Health Ministry. Hopefully staying in a very nice B'nB with a big bath, the availability of broadband doubtful, and I'm not getting my hopes up about riveting TV, but it'll be quite something to have some quiet time to myself. However there's always a chance the MSF office there are a rowdy lot and we'll be out clubbing 'til dawn....I wonder if the Why Not? is still there? And I wonder if they still won't let you in without a man in case you're soliciting? 

What I can't believe is how much prep work has had to go into this 4 day trip! Never-mind familiarising myself with the ins and outs of the organisation and the (sketchy) brief I've received from them, never-mind the 2 other smaller jobs I've done some work on this week, never-mind the shopping and ironing and planning to get together a decent working wardrobe (it's been a while ok), or even booking flights and airport shuttles etc - I've been very very busy sorting out logistics for a certain young madam of my acquaintance.

Frieda will be in the infinitely capable hands of Husband and my Mum, plus one day with her beloved nanny, but still, as her primary care-giver for the last oh, nearly 18 months (shock gasp), I've had a million little details swimming through my brain the last week or so. A million what-ifs? and how-will-they's? and... ok, so it's not a million, but a very high number, all of which boil down to one thing: the slow-dawning of the realisation that she's of an age where she doesn't need ME to be the person who provides her with everything. She can be just as capably cared for by others who love her, just as happy and well-nourished and warm/cool in those hands.

It's wonderfully liberating, a little like stopping breast-feeding all over again, but it's paired with the lovely thought that all she really needs from me, is to be her Mum. Which I'll always be ....as well as Internationally Respected Consultant!

It's going to be a fun few days. But I will miss the little widget something terrible!

Last thing, this weekend's been the annual Obs Fest - a weekend of music, stalls, performance and general whackiness in Observatory. The Fest has a reputation for being somewhat grimy, and we're fairly jaded about it by now, but we took a walk through this afternoon and were pleasantly surprised by the much higher than usual standard of organisation. The whackiness remains however (and thank goodness for that), as illustrated by this - the Love Goddess, stark naked, being paraded through the festival to promote peace and love. And have a zillion (and this time I'm not exaggerating) photos taken of her gold-painted breasts!