It’s taken me a long while to sit and write, and I’ll be honest, it’s mainly because I am exhausted. I am writing this, it seems like three words at a time, in between questions about how to finish the comprehension activities from my primary school aged kids, while juggling a new puppy that we decided to get to support our family after the fires, amongst work and everything else thrown into this world at the moment.

I am reluctant to use the word recovery. This morning I sit here at my kitchen table, listening to the sounds of trucks driving up and down our dirt road, excavators, falling trees, chainsaws, smashing metal, amidst the lingering smell of smoke that reminds me that although a fire came to our door step six Mondays ago, it’s still not over…

I have come to the realisation that this whole bushfire experience has blurred personal and professional into one big, tangled mess. I know I am not the only one. They are so tangled in mess that I can no longer separate them.