Outside it's wet. It's been raining for three nights and three days. Rivers run alongside roads, and across them in places. We fall asleep to the rhythmic drumming on the red tin roof, and wake up late because it's so dark it doesn't feel like morning.
Inside we sift through boxes and rearrange our stuff against a new backdrop. I'm awaiting the courier's delivery that will mean I can begin work again, and in the meantime I drink coffee, knit special orders and type up recipes that are overdue for submission.
It's true, life does roll on.