Gradually we get back to work. After a morning of errands and bill-paying, we went down to our site after lunch. Miss Phillips greeted us with a call of 'I've got a beating for y'all!' from her porch. 'I'm gonna get y'all a beating, you've been away too long!'

We stripped off the cardboard sonotubes, knocking off the lumps of excess concrete around the outside with a hammer, to reveal our concrete piers. Thankfully, all intact, none cracked despite pouring on the coldest day of the year, not the prettiest of sights but solid - as Andrew put it when he came by, a row of elephant's feet. Our house should not be going anywhere.

Then we sat around on the stumps chatting about our holidays and our plans for the coming months. Everyone seems to have the same conversation over the holidays: what they might do next year and how their boyfriends might fit into it. I guess it's that typical Christmas conversation, though thinking this far in advance to me is very alien. But still, I've had that conversation and am thinking those thoughts, trying to balance up what and where I might be after my visa expires out here.