Who knows if it’s my dad’s fast-failing health, my dear sister’s life on the other side of the globe, or maddening encounters with M (and soon to be F’s) primary school and the education system as a whole - but all I think about at the moment is the five of us fleeing our lovely new house and raising ourselves on boats and beaches and abandoned castles and leafy hillsides as we work our way around the globe with eight languages between us (current number: one and a half and a few words) and a chance to learn some *really* useful skills (because I just can’t shake the zombie/apocalypse terrors that films like this just don’t help, and obviously we must raise the kids to know animal husbandry, basic botany, midwifery & medical care, engineering, and weaponry & self-defense). 

But we have no money to do it, and we have no guts. Best just wait until the sea levels rise and we’re all forced into stilted abodes and savage battles for the last pack of antibiotics.