After all the flying back and forth from Sweden I’m not afraid to say I both hate and am afraid of flying. But, given my grandparents are millennia old, and I hadn’t seen them since my brother died, I felt duty bound to defy the laws of nature, and my own sense of self preservation, and get on another plane. I’m happy to report that I survived and didn’t embarass myself. Also, Sydney airport is far less intimidating on the domestic side, but still as near to Sydney as I hope I’ll ever get. I stayed two nights on the Gold Coast and flew straight back home… or as near to straight as a layover in Melbourne can accomplish. The flight from Melbourne to Hobart was amusingly brief; we went up, got our peanuts, and went back down again. It was nice to catch up with that side of the family, though. Only the week before I caught up with my step mum, Gloria, who is as awesome and delightful as I remember. My aunt Cheryl also proved an invaluable resource of insights into the family and I hope we keep in touch, because she is also quite awesome… …but…