Mama has been muttering gibberish stuffs while asleep. Dad said she's having either a nightmare or fantasy. All that we could decipher were words that sound like Jetstar Sale and Christchurch.
Apparently, last night she was watching the telly and saw an advertisement by Jetstar offering $149 one-way to Christchurch in South Island, New Zealand. Mama had visited New Zealand yonks ago but that was to Wellington. She was unhappy because that was a whirlwind trip, for work not pleasure. Dad, unfortunately, hasn't crossed the Tasman Sea.
I heard her persuading Dad to surrender his credit card to her so that she can make bookings. I heard her mentioning dinner in the tram, Rita Angus exhibition at the art gallery, gondola at Mt Cavendish, punting on the Avon, skiing at Mt Butte, walkabout at the botanical garden, escargot in Akaroa....
Hmmm...if she's successful, that means Brad and I would have to find lodging at either Uncle Is' or Dr T's soon.
Punting on the river Avon, Christchurch. Mama dreams of a bloke serenading her with Italian opera....Pavarotti or Borticelli?