Who is this strange man in my house?

No, not my husband. I knew about him, and I even see him around from time to time. 

This is an older guy who seems to think he has some sort of relationship to me... I think I recognise him. It's coming back to me... Doug? Darren? Dan? Daaaa... Dad? That's it. Dad. 

My dad is home. Aside from a couple of days over Christmas last year, I haven't really seen him since this time last year, so it's not surprising if I'm a bit hazy. Mum and I went and picked him up from the airport on Monday morning at 5-bloody-a.-sodding-m., which meant I had to get up at 4:30. AM. In the morning. But it was worth it, just to see the tender way he glared at us as we walked into the airport and saw him sitting on a bench, whereupon he grunted 'I've been waiting for twenty minutes.' I'm misting up just thinking about it. To be fair, we were running a bit late, but I figure that after a fifteen hour flight, waiting twenty minutes in the arrivals lounge is not that bad. 

We stopped at the beach on the way home, and were just in time to see the sunrise over South Curl Curl;

Maybe I need to start getting up earlier in the morning;

Then we went out for breakfast, which was nice. But it's going to be a funny period of readjustment for all of us. Dad's been away for a year, and it's going to be interesting seeing how we all learn to live together again. Added to that is the fact that my brother is due home in a month, and then my sister comes home at Christmas, so over the next couple of months it's going to get a bit crowded in here. I suppose Jo and I could move out, but I think that's more than we can really afford just at the minute. So, fingers crossed. This could be about to get messy.